Chapter 13
Mila
After we clean up, the boys wrap themselves around me and are out cold almost immediately. Despite the multiple mind-blowing orgasms I’ve experienced today, I lay awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain fall and Frankie and Sam breathing, none of which calm my racing thoughts.
My mind is in absolute turmoil, and I’m struggling to focus on a single solution to what my future may potentially involve.
I have so many questions.
How long has Logan been planning on divorcing me?
Why?
Has he been having his affair with Alice our entire marriage?
Why didn’t he just marry her instead?
Is he going to marry her after he divorces me?
Why does he go to a sex club with her and save his boring, lack lustre three pumps for me?
Where’s Ella?
Is she safe?
Am I safe?
What’s going to happen to my mum if I come out of the divorce with nothing?
Can I trust Frankie?
And Scott! What. The Actual. Fuck? I don’t even want to attempt getting my brain around that scenario.
I begin to feel sick as I circle around and around, and when I attempt to answer each question, my brain goes off on a tangent, leading to nine hundred and seventy-nine others being raised.
My skin feels too hot, my heart like it’s about to beat out of my chest, and my head like it’s on the verge of exploding.
As stealthily as I can, I slide out from between the two sleeping men. I find a T-shirt on the floor and pull it on. I’m pretty tall for a woman, but it still covers my bare arse and smells distinctly of Frankie.
The double doors to the hallway are open, so I exit the bedroom quietly and head up to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. Without the heat of the boys’ bodies surrounding me, I’m suddenly cold, so once my tea’s made—which takes about ten seconds with Sam’s fancy tap—I curl up in the corner of the sofa under the knit throw I’m seriously considering taking home with me.
Drawing in a long deep breath of the berry-scented tea, I wrap my hands around my cup, and contemplate what an unmitigated disaster my life has become.
I need to calm myself down and come up with a plan. I know Frankie’s said he’s working on something, but what if he’s not? What if he’s still on the side of Team Logan and just using me for sex?
Sam’s said that he’s got me covered with somewhere to live and to look after my mum if everything goes to shit, and I do like him… a lot. But do I, once again, want to be so reliant on men for my financial security?
I’m well aware that this is karma coming to bite me on the arse after all the scheming I did to get Logan to marry me, but if you’d experienced the childhood poverty I did, you might be inclined to give me a fucking break.
I let out a loud breath/sigh/huff of frustration but instantly pause when I hear a sound from the hallway downstairs. A few moments later, Frankie enters the kitchen, looks around, then leaves. I hear doors open, then he comes back to the kitchen. Silently, and wearing just his boxers, he passes me as he moves through the family room and looks out the sliding doors to the deck. Raking his fingers through his dark hair, he lets out his own loud sigh before turning to face the room. That’s when he sees me.
“Fuck, Mils! You scared the fucking life out of me. I thought you’d taken off in the rain somewhere.”
“Why would I?” I question, watching on as he laces his fingers together at the back of his head, his very fine, almost naked body on full display.
I blow on the steam rising from my tea, even though it’s already cool enough to drink.
“Today’s been a lot. I thought maybe…” He pauses and sighs. “Is that one of your girly teas?”
“Yep.”
“Can I have one?”
“Go for it.”
“Which flavour do you recommend?”
“If you’re having trouble sleeping, the night-time berry.”
I watch on as he moves to the kitchen, performing the same tea making routine I did. Mug in hand, he returns to the sofa, sits in the opposite corner to me, takes the throw placed up his end, and covers himself with it.
“Why can’t you sleep?” I ask once he’s settled.
I can feel rather than see his eyes on me for a long moment before he answers. “Something woke me. I noticed you weren’t there, waited, realised it had been a while and you hadn’t returned, so decided to come looking for you.”
“Why?”
“Because I feel bad, Mils,” he says on another loud huff. “I feel like shit that I was willing to set you up, that I believed Logan, and that even when I found out the truth, I was still willing to use you. I’ve explained all of that, but also because of everything else I told you today.”
“About Logan and Alice?”
“About all of it. You didn’t need to hear it all today. I could’ve waited for you to get over one shock before I delivered the next.”
“What difference does it make?” I ask with a shrug. “I’d much rather have the Band-Aid ripped off in one go. Plus, it would mean you were still keeping secrets from me.”
“But now you can’t sleep because of everything I told you.”
“I can’t sleep for lots of reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Where’s Ella? Is she safe? If this all goes wrong, and if Logan finds out I know everything, am I safe? If I’m not, and if something happens to me, what’s going to happen to my mum?”
My nose tingles, and tears burn my eyes. I suddenly feel incredibly tired, or maybe I’m just overwhelmed, but right now, I have very little left in my tank.
“I’ve told you I’d work something out—we’d work it out. I’m going to start looking for somewhere new to move your mum tomorrow. As for your safety, if you honestly think you’re in danger, then I don’t want you going back to Yira, back to him.”
“I’ll be fine. As long as I know my mum will be looked after, I’ll be fine.”
“Mils, it’s okay to admit you’re scared, worried, whatever it is you’re feeling.”
“I’m fine,” I snap.
“Don’t fucking lie. If you were fine, you wouldn’t be sitting down here at two in the morning.”
“You are.”
“Because I’m worried about you.”
“Because you feel guilty.”
“That, too,” he admits with a shrug.
“You hurt me.” I hate admitting that to him, but my mouth has decided I need to confess my inner most secrets. “I thought… I felt…” And now I’m gonna cry. “Last weekend was the first time in a very long fucking time I’ve been shown any kind of affection, and I just thought…” My tears are coming so fast. I can’t see, and I can barely breathe through the sobs heaving out of me.
Frankie moves, leans towards me, grabs my good arm, and pulls me into his lap. “Let it out, Mils. I’ve got you.”
“Have you, though? Or are you still lying? Are you still going to fuck me over?”
“I’m not lying, baby girl. I’m gonna make this right, and I’m gonna make them pay. Please believe me. I know it’s hard. You and me, we’re so much alike. We’ve both built the walls around our real selves so high, even we’ve lost sight of who we really are. We’ve had to barricade our hearts and cover our true personalities with armour to protect them from situations out of our control, from the hand life dealt us, but mostly, from Scott and Logan Walsh.”
I still haven’t quite managed to get my crying under control, and my voice shakes so badly, I don’t even recognise it as my own when I speak. “But it’s my own fault, my own doing. I planned it all. I flirted with him, led him on… anything to get him away from Alice. I knew what I was doing. I didn’t love him.”
“It’s called survival, Mils. You did what you had to do to escape the poverty you were born into.”
“But Logan and Alice, they might’ve been happy together if I?—”
“He was never going to marry Alice. She’s wealthy in her own right. That would’ve given her too much independence, him not enough control. And if there’s one thing Logan Walsh thrives on, it’s control.”
I slow my breathing while I consider this. “Is that why he married me?”
“Absolutely. The fact that you’re fucking gorgeous was an added bonus. But, yeah, the biggest attraction for him was your financial reliance on him and the way he could control you with it.”
My eyes and limbs feel heavy, and I add that latest piece of info to the ‘deal with later’ pile.
“I’ve kept repeating myself all day, but please trust me, and I promise I’ll put this right.” He pulls me in tighter, and for the first time ever, Frankie Walsh has made me feel safe.
I close my eyes, and this time, nothing can force them open.
I waketo the sound of banging and warm skin pressed against my chest. When I open my eyes, I’m staring across Frankie’s bare chest into the kitchen where Sam is slamming things about on the bench.
“You wanna make a bit more noise while you’re at it, dickhead?” Frankie’s voice rumbles through him and across the space as I start to lift myself up.
“Sorry, mate. Shall I just fuck off back to bed and leave you to slither your way in a bit deeper, you fucking snake?” Sam replies.
I blink a couple of times and look between them, then down at Frankie and me. Our bare legs are tangled together. One throw is on the floor, the other partially covering us. I’m wearing Frankie’s tee and no undies, while he’s wearing nothing but his undies.
“Are you mad at us?” I ask.
“You? I’m disappointed. Him? Pissed off, but not surprised,” Sam replies over the sound of the fancy coffee machine.
“Why are you disappointed and pissed off? What did we do?” I ask through a yawn.
“He thinks we slipped out here in the night to fuck without him,” Frankie informs me.
I rub at my eyes as I process how it must look to Sam., how waking up alone in bed and coming out here to find us like this must’ve made him feel.
“Babe?” I call out.
Sam ignores me as he swirls milk around in the frother, steamer jug thing.
“Babe?” I call again.
This time he looks up.
“I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you two, so I came up here and had a cup of tea. Me getting up disturbed Frankie, so he came looking for me. We had a tea, sat here talking, I had a good cry, and must’ve fallen asleep, because here we are.”
He’s staring across the island bench, jug in hand, eyes darting between us.
“Why’d you cry?”
I have an internal ‘naw’ moment because of his concern.
Damn this man.
Damn both of them.
“I hurt her.” Frankie jumps in while I’m having my moment. “She couldn’t sleep because I hurt her. She didn’t know if she could trust me. Plus, I unloaded a shit ton of other stuff on her yesterday, and it was too much. I couldn’t sleep because that was all on me. I’d done that to her.”
Sam looks down, and I notice he has three coffee cups out, which he pours milk into. He’s making us coffee, so he can’t be that mad.
Frankie’s hand is resting on my hip, and he gives it a squeeze. “You okay?” he asks with a slight head tilt in my direction.
I shrug. “No. He’s upset.”
“Sam?” Frankie says his name so gently, it causes a visceral reaction in me. My stomach knots, and a lump forms in my throat. “What we’ve got, the three of us, I know it’s new, but it’s good. Really good, and I was worried I’d fucked it all up.”
“You haven’t,” I interject. “I know I gave you shit all day yesterday, but you haven’t fucked things up. I like what we have, but…” I look up, then between them. “We haven’t talked about this, but do we need to lay down some ground rules about what we can and can’t do when one of us isn’t around?”
“Well, we don’t fuck each other unless you’re involved,” Sam says with a shrug. “So, no rules needed there.”
“And like we told you on the weekend, we won’t be fucking anyone else, either,” Frankie adds.
“But what about you two when I’m with just one of you?” I question as Sam makes his way over carrying three cups.
The boys are quiet as they sip their coffees, neither of them responding.
“What, no one got anything to say? No one want to admit to getting their knickers in a knot? So, you’re both happy for me to fuck whichever one of you I’m with? Or should that only be happening when we’re all together, because I’m not having this pissing contest every time either of you think something might’ve happened with the other.”
“I don’t like it,” Frankie states. “But I get it. If I’m not around, I don’t expect you to wait.”
We both look at Sam. “I just thought you’d both slipped off and left me out when I woke up this morning,” he mumbles.
I reach out and tuck his bed-messed hair behind his ear, thinking how young and vulnerable they both look this morning. Despite both being practically naked—Sam’s wearing standard hot bloke, grey trackies, and no top. Frankie’s still basically naked. The stubble on their jaws, their insecurities over what we—the three of us—are, and our dynamics, makes them appear young, and it’s doing things to my insides.
“I’m sorry we hurt you,” I tell Sam. “It was never our intention. Now, if you’ve finished your tantrum, can we all kiss and make up?”
“I think he should be punished for calling me a snake and you a disappointment,” Frankie chimes in like a child.
“Fuck you!” Sam responds, sounding like a bigger child.
“How should we punish him?” I grin over the top of my mug, giving Frankie a Sammie style wink.
“Make him watch while I fuck you?” Frankie suggests.
“Mila’s the cause of all this. She’s the one who should be punished,” Sam states, and, weirdly, I like that idea.
“And how you gonna do that?” I ask.
“You can watch me fuck Frankie, but you can’t touch us, you can’t touch yourself, and you can’t join in.”
Desire unfurls inside me so rapidly it makes my head spin with the speed at which it courses through my veins.
I finish my coffee, and the boys do the same. We all remain silent as they put their cups on the floor then lean across me and kiss. No one took my cup from me, and I’m glad. It gives me something to hold on to as I watch these two beautiful men’s mouths assault each other. Sam is holding either side of Frankie’s neck, while Frankie obviously doesn’t want to hang around and instantly slides his hand inside Sam’s trackies.
They’re both up on their knees on the sofa until Sam begins to slide down to the floor, with Frankie following.
“Knees up, Mils. Legs apart,” Sam orders.
As I watch them kiss, Frankie slides Sam’s trackies down his hips before reaching for his cock and stroking it. I slide back into the deep cushions of the sofa, pull my feet up to the edge, spread my legs wide, and expose myself to them.
My clit throbs, and I’m already desperate to touch myself. Instead, I grip my cup tighter and watch as Frankie moves his kisses to Sam’s chest and down his tight abs, not stopping until he flicks his tongue over the tip of his cock. He strokes, then licks. When he eventually takes him fully into his mouth, Sam’s eyes come to mine, which I can barely keep open.
Frankie makes a noise in the back of his throat as Sam grips the hair at the back of his head and forces his mouth onto him harder. My stomach cramps, my internal muscles pulling so tight.
Leaning down, Sam says something I don’t catch into Frankie’s ear. He pulls his head back and frees Sam’s cock before turning to face me, then drops to all fours.
Both of them have their eyes on me as Sam grips Frankie’s hips and thrusts forwards. Frankie’s mouth drops open. Sam bites down on his bottom lip, and both their eyes flare when I let out a groan.
“Again,” Frankie hisses, and I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or Sam, but we both oblige.
With every thrust of Sam’s, Frankie and I groan.
“Look at her cunt,” Sam says. “You ready to come, Mila?” he asks.
I nod.
“Need your words, baby!”
“Yeah.”
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
“You wanna touch yourself?”
“Yeah,” I sigh as my tongue flicks out to lick my dry lips.
“Want us to touch you?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
“She’s convulsing. Look at her pussy contract,” Frankie says.
“Fuck, you’re fucking beautiful. Slide down. Give yourself to Frankie,” Sam orders.
So I do. And when his mouth hits my clit and his fingers push inside me, I fall apart. When he adds another finger, groans against my clit, and Sam moans out a “Fuck, fuck,” I fall some more, lost, floating somewhere I’ve never been before—somewhere I didn’t even know existed—as my orgasm rolls on and on.
“I’ll letyou know if he heads your way. Just keep that backup phone near you all the time,” Frankie orders.
I nod. The cold morning? My nerves? My earlier orgasms? A combination of all three? I don’t know what it is, but I’m feeling jittery.
“Is it wise sending her home with her backup phone? If he finds it…” Sam trails off, obviously not wanting to verbalise what’ll happen if Logan finds my second phone.
“How else are we going to contact her?”
Sam pulls Frankie’s usual move and rakes his fingers through his hair before puffing his cheeks and blowing out a long sigh. The vapour from his warm breath clouding the cold air around us is loaded with frustration.
“How about we just don’t send her back to those fuckers? We keep her with us, keep her safe. We collect her mum and just sort shit out from there?”
“You don’t know him. That family. They won’t just let her go that easily, especially if they find out I’m involved.”
“I can keep the phone hidden. I keep my contraceptive pills and secret bank account card hidden all the time. I’m sure I can manage one more thing.” I reassure them with a smile and a shrug while not feeling in the least bit reassured.
“You hide your pills?” Frankie asks, stepping away from his car and back towards where Sam and I are standing next to his.
“He wants a baby. I don’t,” I explain with another shrug.
“Ever?” Sam questions.
“I was abandoned by my mother shortly after my birth. My father was an alcoholic. I’ve married a man who has descended from a long line of narcistic sociopaths and is one himself, so why would I?”
“I don’t mean with him. I mean with anyone. Someone else?”
“Are we really having this fucking conversation now?” Frankie interrupts. “Mils knows what she’s doing. I’ve every faith in her ability to stay safe. I’ll have eyes on Walsh and the building where she’s staying. If he so much as farts in her direction, we’ll know about it.” He takes another step towards me, wraps me in his arms, and in an unusual display of affection, Frankie kisses my temple. “You’ve got this, and we’ve got you. Trust me, we’ll find a way to get you away safely and permanently.” Looking down at me, he nods.
Unsure how else to respond, I nod back.
“I’ll see you at the office,” he says to Sam before turning towards his Merc.