Chapter 12
Mila
The drive back to Sam’s is quiet. Even the music’s turned down so low I can barely hear it, and I spend the ten-minute journey trying to work out exactly what songs are playing as a way of avoiding all I have to think about.
Since my experience with Sam this morning, which I’m still not ready to deal with, sex has been the last thing on my mind, but as we approach the electric gates to Sam’s property, I’m wondering whether the boys are going to expect it tonight.
Do I want intimacy with Frankie after the way he’s made me feel?
Maybe getting fucked roughly is exactly what I need to get out of my own head. Perhaps I need to let them use and abuse me—tear me apart to the point of exhaustion so I can actually sleep tonight.
But then I remember the way I look right now. I know it didn’t deter Sam earlier, but I think we got caught up in some kind of moment—me, just grateful for the human contact, him, the release of adrenaline created by his anger at the state of my face—and now I’m thinking about Sam and me, and I don’t want to when I have so much else to consider.
I’m out of the car before it even comes to a stop. Once I reach the front door, though, I realise I don’t know the code to the PIN pad. Turning to look back towards the car, I watch on as the boys appear to be having a heated conversation, still in their seats. When they finally exit the car, Frankie calls out, “I’m gonna head home, Mils. We’ll speak tomorrow or as soon?—”
I make a split-second decision. “Why? Why are you going?”
Sam stops moving towards me. Frankie stops heading towards his car. I look at Sam, whose hands go his hips, but I don’t know him well enough to know whether I’ve pissed him off. The set of his face is giving me nothing.
“I thought you—” Frankie starts to say.
“No, stop! Stop assuming. Stop thinking for me, making decisions for me. I’m a big girl. I can make my own choices, and right now, I’d like you to stay.”
His eyes dart to Sam, then back to me. I miss whatever it is that passes between them, but he nods anyway.
“Okay. I’ll stay. Tha?—”
“Don’t dare say thank you. If you do, I’ll kick you in the nuts and send you away.”
I swear I hear the rise of their eyebrows.
“I want bossy, frowny, scowly, moody Frankie back. So, stop being a sook and stay.”
The door bleeps as Sam unlocks it. Without looking back, I follow him in, head straight to the bedroom I was in with Sam earlier, and through to the ensuite.
There’s a huge, round, sunken tub with my name on it in the corner. I flip the lever that activates the plug and turn on the taps. When I head back out to the bedroom, both boys are standing in the doorway, and it hits me how the dynamics have changed between us today. Right now, it’s them looking unsure and uncertain of what to do, so I decide that must mean they’re waiting for me to take charge.
“I’m gonna have a bath. You’re both welcome to join me if you want.”
“Only if you promise not to laugh,” Frankie says.
Sam and I, both wearing frowns, look at him.
“Laugh?” I question.
“At my lack of nuts. They’ve gone into hiding since you threatened to kick them.”
“Yeah, they’re hiding somewhere inside your vagina,” Sam quips.
“Fuck you. She’s fucking scary when she’s pissed off.”
“I’m aware. I’ve been hard all day watching her rip the shit out of you. All the years I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you so fucking humbled.”
Frankie rakes his hand through his hair and lets out a long breath.
“What the fuck is it about the little witch that has me standing there and taking it?”
“Let me know when you work it out because she’s got me so tied up in knots, I can’t fucking see straight.”
“Hellooo! I’m right here.” I circle a finger at my own chest. “You.” I point at Sam. “Driving in the dark when you can’t see straight is dangerous. Get your shit together, come help me undress, then undress yourself. You!” I turn to Frankie. “I don’t need your balls for what I have planned, so shut up, get naked, and bring your ball-less dick to the bathroom.”
I turn my back on the pair of them and start to take Sam’s jacket of. He’s by my side in an instant, helping me. Next, he pulls my hoodie over my head. I kick off my Nikes and stand facing both of them in my trackies and a sports bra.
“Fucking hell, Mila,” Frankie says as he takes in my bruised body. “Did he kick you while you were down?”
“No, I think I hit the corner of the cupboard with my ribs before or after I hit it with my head. It all happened so quickly; I can’t even remember.”
“They’re gonna pay… in the worst possible way. I’m gonna make them both fucking pay.”
I nod as Sam pulls off my sports bra, and I pull down my trackies. I didn’t bother with undies this morning, as it’s so much easier when you only have one fully functioning hand. Sam steps back, leaving me to turn and head towards the bathroom.
“Just so you know,” Frankie calls out.
I turn back to look between them. Sam’s twisted towards me, still holding my bra,
Frankie’s in the process of pulling off his hoodie, and his tee comes with it. “Bruises, broken wrist, you’re still fucking gorgeous.”
I turn away, smiling, and I have to fight not to skip to the bathroom.
You haveto step up four tiled steps before stepping down into the bath. The area around it is tiled and sits adjacent to a floor to ceiling window overlooking the pool outside. There are three chunky, wooden candle holders in the corner of the room, with the clicker to light the candles hidden behind. In front of those sits a ceramic bowl containing bath salts and a scoop.
I sprinkle a couple of scoops under the still-running taps, test and adjust the temperature, light the candles, and climb in. There is a set of controls on the side, and when I press the first button, the lights dim. The next button activates jets around the edges of the bath, which bubble with just enough pressure against my back.
I’ve kept my cast on—it’s waterproof—but I rest my broken wrist on the edge and sink down into the water. I’m not sure what fragrance the bath salts are, but a citrusy smell fills the room along with the steam. Resting my head back against the edge, I close my eyes.
“High For This” by The Weeknd starts playing over a hidden sound system, and I’m instantly horny. Sensing movement, I open my eyes to see Sam leaning across to turn off the taps I’d forgotten were still running.
Naked and already hard, he sets down an ice bucket containing a bottle of something, then steps down into the tub. Frankie’s right behind him carrying three stemless champagne flutes, his dick even more erect, and I wonder how exactly we’re going to navigate this in a bath full of water and with my broken wrist.
“Fucking hell, Mils. I think my balls just shrivelled up and joined Frankie’s. How can you stand it so hot?” Sam asks, while Frankie pulls faces and makes noises, which I think are meant to express his discomfort at the water temperature.
“I thought it might help thaw your cold black soul,” I reply to Frankie as I accept the glass of bubbly liquid and take a sip.
As the boys lower themselves to the shelved seating that runs around the inside of the bath, the water rises up to my shoulders. For the boys, it sits just below their armpits. Frankie’s to my left, Sam to my right. Our legs meet and tangle in the middle as they continue to make noises of discomfort.
“Bloody hell, you two are a pair of pussies.” I tilt my head back and close my eyes again. “And I don’t know why you’re pulling faces and making noises, Walsh. I thought your balls were long gone.”
“They reappeared when I saw you naked.”
A thought crosses my mind, and because the Prosecco has gone straight to my head, I sit up straight, open my eyes, and ask the one thing I’ve been dying to know the answer to since I met these two.
“Can I ask you a question?” I look from Frankie to Sam.
“Me?” Frankie asks, tilting his glass towards his chest.
“Both of you, really.”
“Go for it,” Sam says.
“What exactly is your relationship? I mean, I know you’re mates and business partners, but what else? Are you lovers? Are you bi? What? I’m curious.”
They’re silent for a long moment. Zayne sings about steaming up the windows over the sound system, and I shift slightly as the words to the song have my vagina clenching in anticipation of what’s to come tonight. Me, hopefully.
“I fuck him, he doesn’t fuck me,” Sam finally says. “And that only happens when we’re sharing a woman.”
My eyes move from Sam to Frankie, who’s sitting closest to the candles, the light from which dances across his face, catching the green of his eyes, making them shine like emeralds. They’re fixed on Sam, and the way he’s looking at him causes a visceral reaction inside me, but I don’t know why.
“I used to think I was bi,” he finally says, eyes still on Sam. “I’d always been into girls, but then when I met Sam, I crushed hard, and it totally confused me.” He lets out a long sigh, his gaze hits mine, and he shakes his head. “It took me a little while to realise it was him.” He shrugs, and for the second time tonight, he shows me he’s vulnerable, and I again feel a shift in my opinion of Frankie Walsh. “I didn’t know what to do with that, and I avoided him for a little while.”
“Which was hard because we were sharing an apartment at the time. But I noticed and wondered what I’d done to piss him off, so I asked him.” Sam nods towards Frankie and lets him continue the story.
“I poured us both a drink—I chugged three to his one—and told him I fancied him. He was quiet for a bit, shrugged, and said ‘what’s not to fancy’. We laughed, he apologised, told me he loved me, but he liked women, though we should never say never.”
“So, what happened? How did you eventually hook up?”
“I came home pretty drunk one night, and he was eating some girl out on our couch. He hadn’t even noticed me, but she did and beckoned me over.” Frankie’s eyes are back on Sam, and it hits me then what that look is. He’s in love with Sam. I’m pretty sure Sam loves him back, but not in that way. Sam loves Frankie, but he’s not in love with him, and again I feel a shift inside me.
“When I looked up from between the girl’s legs—Beth, I think her name was—she was undoing his jeans and pulling out his cock. I fingered her as she sucked him off. We’d both been drinking, were a little bit high, and I decided to shoot my shot.” He shrugs again, still looking at Sam. “I slid up her body, fumbled around for the condom I’d left on the arm of the sofa, slid it on, buried myself inside her, then pulled Sam’s cock out of her mouth and into mine.”
“You didn’t stop him? What were you thinking right at that moment?” I ask Sam, wanting to squeeze my legs together as their story unfolds, but worried they’ll notice and laugh at me.
Sam reaches for the ice bucket, retrieves the bottle, and tops up our glasses.
“Is this turning you on, us talking about this?” he asks.
“Answer my question first.”
“I don’t know. I was dizzy at first, my head spinning because it was the best blow job I’d ever had. Then the girl started squeezing my balls and groaning, and I just came right in his mouth. He swallowed, and I was hard again. My dick didn’t even go down a little bit. We took Beth up to Frankie’s bed, shared her, then he fucked her while I fucked him.”
They’re quiet again, both staring at each other.
“Then it became a thing. We’d go out looking for girls who were only interested in coming home with both of us. Then we started going to clubs where it was easier to do that kind of thing. Then we decided to open our own club,” Frankie explains. “And here we are.”
“Now, answer my question. Is it turning you on, us talking about this?” Sam asks, not letting me off the hook. My cheeks are already burning from the heat of the water so hopefully they don’t notice how my flush deepens.
“Yes,” I admit.
“Does it turn you on when we touch each other while we’re fucking you?”
I nod.
“When we kiss? When I fuck him? What part turns you on most?”
“All of it, but I think it’s the kissing. You’re both so male, but still so beautiful in your own very individual ways. Watching that masculinity collide…” I shrug this time. “That turns me on, but also, when Frankie sucks your cock, the way you look, so lost in the moment, in the sensation, and the same when you fuck him. The expression on both your faces means I’m not sure if you’re experiencing pleasure or pain.”
“Both,” they say in unison.
“It’s like neither of us are sure if we’re supposed to like it, but we do, and then doing it in front of you, and until now, not knowing how you felt, just heightened our arousal,” Sam explains.
“Does it matter what I thought? What I think?” My heart is racing as we have this conversation, and I don’t know why. Am I that aroused I wonder?
“It didn’t—it never has with anyone before—but then after that first time with you, I think we both knew it was different. We both felt different,” Frankie says.
“How was it different? Why?”
“I’ve never felt so accepted, Mils,” Frankie admits. “You know me, know me from my old life, but you accepted everything we sent your way last weekend. You were open and honest, you trusted us with your secrets and with your body, and I just felt a connection. I knew Sam did, too. I watched it happen. I watched the fucking ice man melt.”
Sam’s brows rise as he looks my way. “Gorgeous girl, we all know who the cold, heartless fucker is around here.”
“I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.” I don’t want to embarrass Frankie and call him out on his feelings for Sam in front of him, so I leave it at that.
“So, you like watching Frankie suck my cock?” Sam turns the conversation right around, and I’m here for it.
“When he sucks your cock, you suck his, when you bury yourself inside him, when you kiss. I like all your interactions, sexual or otherwise.”
As I talk, Sam stands, and Frankie moves towards him on his knees. They’re just centimetres from my face when Sam begins to stroke himself, eventually guiding his long, thick dick into Frankie’s mouth.
Frankie’s hands go to Sam’s hips, and he grips them as he moves his head backwards and forwards. Sam grips the back of his head and forces his face into him harder.
“Sit up on the edge, Mils. Spread your legs and play with your clit. I wanna see your cunt,” Sam orders.
I set my glass down, then realise I can’t get up safely without putting my weight on both wrists, which is impossible right now.
“I can’t. I can’t get up there with one hand. You two carry on and let me enjoy the show. I think I’ve earned it after the week I’ve had.”
Frankie stares at me wide eyed, his mouth still full of Sam’s cock, while Sam just grins, grips the back of Frankie’s head tighter, and fucks his face.
Half an hour later,I’m on my back in Sam’s bed. After witnessing my very up close and personal male on male blow job, we all made a quick exit when Sam blew in Frankie’s mouth, and Frankie blew in the bath.
Thankfully, both boys were gentleman and helped me out, towelled me dry, slathered me in lotion, and brushed my wet hair, which is now spread out all around me.
I thought I was going to be out of luck with the way the pair of them exploded earlier, and left to supply my own happy ending, but until the boys are ready to go again, Sam has his head buried between my legs, his tongue and fingers pushing inside me. Frankie has a middle finger circling my clit, and his tongue, mouth and teeth, lapping, licking, and biting at my nipple.
Sam kisses the inside of each of my thighs, then my belly.
“What do you need from us, Mils? Tonight’s all about you,” he asks while looking up at me.
“Both of you. I want both of you inside me.”
“We can do that,” he says as he makes his way up my body.
The three of us share a kiss before he turns me on my side to face him. He drapes my broken wrist over his shoulder as Frankie moves in behind me. Sam bends my leg until my knee is almost touching my chest. Frankie holds it in place as Sam guides himself inside me. The only sounds in the room are a raspy-voiced female singing about seeing red and my arousal. I’m wet, but unsure if I’m wet enough to fit two of them inside me without lube.
Frankie spreads my arse cheeks, opening me up, and I must flinch or give some tell because Sam instantly pauses.
“You okay?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I know I’m wet, but I think we’ll need lube for me to fit both of you without it hurting.”
Sam’s eyes look over my shoulder, and I feel Frankie move away. The bathroom light goes on and I hear drawers and cupboards opening.
“You okay?” Sam asks again with a frown, and I nod.
“I’m fine. Stop worrying.”
“Can’t help it. You worry me.”
“Why?”
“Aha!” Frankie calls from the bathroom.
“I dread to think what he’s found,” Sam states before kissing my nose.
“I’m not done with this conversation,” I tell him.
Frankie reappears behind Sam with a jar of something white.
“Coconut oil,” he states as he scoops a handful from the jar. “It’ll turn back to liquid if I warm it up.”
I don’t question where it came from or why it’s here, I’m just grateful he found something, and I can see the word organic on the jar. Why that matters, I don’t know, but it makes me feel better.
He moves around the bed, rubbing his hands together, the smell of coconut filling the room, and then he’s behind me. Sam pushes my knee back up and holds it in place, and Frankie presses into me.
He slides in easier this time, but it still feels like I’m being ripped in half. Sam kisses me and squeezes my nipple while Frankie bites along my shoulder, all to distract me, and then he’s in, and I’m full and stretched. I don’t even attempt to move, leaving that to the boys. With Sam’s hand holding my leg in place, Frankie grips my hip. After they push into me, they move me back down onto them. My head spins, and I know I’m not going to last long.
Wrapping his hand around my hair, Sam turns my head as Frankie covers my mouth with his, then pulling away, he kisses Sam. Somebody’s thumb is pressing at my clit. Fingers pinch and pull at my nipples, and when both of their mouths descend on mine, our tongues probing and exploring, I feel my orgasm begin to roll through me.
There’s no explosion. This is slow and languorous. I feel boneless, but this time it’s in a good way. I arch my back as fingers continue to press at my clit and a mouth sucks at my breasts.
Letting out a long groan, I hear Sam say, “Fuck me, you are so fucking gorgeous. Look at you. Just fucking look at you.”
I remember the mirror against the wall. Looking over Sam’s shoulder, I watch the muscles in his arse cheeks work as he pushes into me. Then my eyes meet Frankie over my shoulder, but he’s not looking at me. He’s biting down on his bottom lip, watching Sam.
Sam lets out a loud, “Fuck, fuck!” as he thrusts into me.
Frankie stills, arches his back, and tilts his face to the ceiling as another orgasm climbs through me before the last has even finished its descent.