Chapter 18
Rhett
I pushed the door open, scanning the living room for Aimee. The space was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. I noticed a coffee mug on the counter, a faint lipstick mark on the rim, and a half-eaten bagel sandwich beside it. She’d been up, but where was she now?
An orange blur shot across the floor, followed by a gray streak that darted under the coffee table. Cheeto and Olive.
“Where’s Aimee?” Troy asked. I met Troy’s wide eyes. “She wouldn’t leave the kittens loose while she went out. She knows they’re not ready to be unsupervised.”
Troy’s expression darkened as he closed and locked the door behind us. “Her stalker—”
“Don’t.” I didn’t want to hear the words or acknowledge the possibility that someone had gotten to her, that the snake sender had escalated to something worse.
I bent down, scooping up Cheeto as he dashed across the floor. Olive peeked out from under the coffee table, her green eyes wide and curious. “Hey, buddy.” I scratched the wriggling orange kitten behind his ears. “Where’d she go?”
Troy moved through the apartment with the same careful efficiency he used during search and rescues. “Bathroom’s empty.” His voice was tight from the hallway. “So are the bedrooms.”
“Where is she?” My voice cracked with panic as I carried Cheeto to the kitten enclosure and deposited him inside, just in case we had to leave.
Olive darted between my legs, nearly tripping me as I reached for her. I caught her and gently set her in the enclosure with her brother as Troy followed me into my room. “Check her purse. It’s on the dresser. If she took her wallet and keys, we’ll know if she left on her own.”
“Her keys and wallet are inside, but no sign of—”
“Can you two please keep it down?” Aimee’s muffled but unmistakable voice came from somewhere in my bedroom. “I’m trying to record in here.”
“Aimee?”
The closet door creaked open, and Aimee’s face appeared in the gap. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun, reading glasses on her nose, and noise-canceling headphones around her neck. “Seriously, guys, I need to get this intro right.”
Relief flooded through me so forcefully I nearly staggered. “What the fuck, Aims? We thought you’d been kidnapped.”
She blinked, finally registering our expressions, and her face softened. “Oh. I didn’t think—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you doing in Rhett’s closet?” Troy asked.
“Recording.” She pushed the door open to reveal her makeshift studio. She’d brought a chair and a little table into the closet, and her laptop and mic were balanced on it. “The clothes dampen the sound, and the kittens can’t get in to interrupt.”
“You’re recording?” My brain was still catching up. “Here?”
Aimee’s cheeks flushed as she looked down at her hands. “I didn’t want to be alone at my place. Not yet. Not until they catch that sicko. But I am not going to let some asshole intimidate me out of producing my podcast, so I created a makeshift sound studio.”
Warmth spread through my chest. She was staying because she understood the risk. Because she trusted us to protect her. It was the first time she’d admitted she needed our help.
“Of course you can work here,” Troy said, the tension leaving his shoulders. “We were worried when we couldn’t find you.”
Aimee nodded, her eyes softening as they met mine. “I appreciate you making me feel safe. I know I haven’t been the easiest houseguest.”
“Are you kidding?” Troy’s ease returned. “You’re no trouble at all. Except when you leave all of the kitchen cabinets open and I hit my head.”
She laughed. “Even my ADHD medicine doesn’t stop that one from happening.”
I sat on the bed, my heart rate returning to normal. “We don’t mind at all. Oh! And we were looking for you to share the good news. Troy was promoted to lieutenant! We’ll be at different stations now, eliminating the possibility of HR violations.”
Aimee’s eyes widened, and she squealed, launching herself at Troy in a flying tackle-hug that he caught with a surprised laugh. “Lieutenant Matthews! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”
She kissed his cheek, and her arms looped around his neck for a moment before she turned and extended an arm to me, inviting me into their circle.
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I stepped into their arms, cuddling close. For a moment, we held each other, and I felt something click into place—a sense of rightness and belonging I hadn’t known I was missing.
“We should celebrate,” Aimee said when we finally broke apart.
A slow grin spread across my face as my brain immediately went to the perfect celebration. “I prepped for Troy to fuck me. Perfect for the occasion.” I gestured toward my ass with a flourish.
Aimee snorted. “What?”
“Troy accidentally activated my slut mode earlier today, and it’s not going away on it’s own.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“The longer you remain in slut mode, the greater the risk that it becomes permanent, if we don’t hurry. And it can only be deactivated by precise dick placement inside me.” I pointed to my ass again, in case there was any confusion about where I wanted the dick.
Troy’s exasperated head shake couldn’t hide his fond smile. “How do you know? You’ve never had any dick placements at all.”
I was tugging my shirt over my head, and my voice was muffled by fabric. “It’s a medical condition. Don’t tell me you’re arguing with science.” I tossed the shirt aside and beamed at them.
Aimee rolled her eyes. She was pretending to be annoyed, but I saw her gaze lingering on my bare chest. “Is it fatal?”
“Absolutely,” I said, nodding gravely as I unbuckled my belt. “Terminal horniness. Very serious. Could die any minute.” I let my jeans drop to the floor and kicked them across the room.
“Fuck, you’re impossible to resist in slut mode,” Aimee muttered, shaking her head.
I beamed at her. “That’s a known side effect.”
She burst out laughing.
“Come on… please?” I did my best puppy dog look. “I really want to be fucked.”
Troy and Aimee exchanged a loaded glance. Something heated passed between them, and then Troy’s expression shifted, darkening as he looked at me.
“Boxers off. We need to examine your, er… condition. In the bed.” His voice dropped to that commanding register that made my cock twitch. “Now.”
I scrambled out of my boxer briefs and tossed them aside, my cock springing free, already hard and leaking, proving my point.
Aimee stepped forward, pushing me onto my back and straddling my hips.
She was still fully clothed in leggings and a tank top, the fabric creating delicious friction against my hardening cock.
“Such a brat.” She grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head. “Always teasing us until we fuck you.”
My breath caught in my throat as she leaned down and captured my mouth in a kiss that was all dominance and heat. Troy moved behind her, his hands sliding under her tank top to cup her breasts, his mouth finding the sensitive spot on her neck that made her moan into my kiss.
Aimee released my wrists as Troy yanked her tank top and bra up and over her head. She arched back into Troy’s touch as he cupped her bare breasts, fingers teasing her nipples while she ground her hips against my straining cock. The pressure was perfect, but it wasn’t what I was craving.
“Fuck,” I gasped against her lips, bucking up to meet her movements. “Please—”
“What do you need, slut?” She pulled back to look down at me, hunger sparkling in her eyes.
“Both of you,” I said. “Any way I can have you.”
“I think that can be arranged. Don’t you, Lieutenant?”
“Let’s see your hole, little slut.” Troy’s voice was a low rumble.
Aimee climbed off me, her eyes dark with desire as she helped me roll over, then settled beside me.
I braced myself on my hands and knees, ass in the air, face burning with a heady mix of embarrassment and arousal.
She ran her palm over my exposed cock, fingers wrapping around the shaft as she cupped my ass with her other hand.
“Fuck, look at him.” Troy’s gaze swept over me. “So eager to show off.”
I watched them kiss, her hand idle on my cock as she moaned into his mouth, and his hands roamed over her bare breasts.
“Get the lube,” Troy said.
I whimpered at the loss of contact as she released me and moved away. I heard her rummaging in my nightstand drawer, the familiar snap of the cap opening.
“Here.” A moment later, cold liquid drizzled between my ass cheeks, and I squirmed at the cold. “Get ready, Rhett. Finger that virgin hole while we watch.”
I reached back, circling my entrance with slick fingers, teasing myself the way Troy had taught me—gently at first, then with more pressure. I pressed one finger inside, the burn and stretch making my breath catch.
“That’s it.” Troy’s breath was rough. “Show us how you like to be opened up. Bet you were thinking about me fucking you all morning, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” I admitted, pushing a second finger inside my hole, gasping at the stretch. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t focus.”
“What do you need?” Troy asked. “Say it.”
“Your cock. Need you inside me, Troy. Need you to fill me up.”
Aimee caressed my ass, dipping her fingers between my cheeks to brush against my stretched rim where my fingers were working. “Let me.” She nudged my hand away. Before I could process the loss, her slender finger pressed into me, the intrusion making me moan and drop my head between my shoulders.
“Fuck.” I pushed back against her probing finger. “That feels so good, Aims.”
“You’re so hot inside.” She worked her finger deeper. “So tight around me.”
I felt another splash of cold lube, and then Aimee was pushing a second finger inside me, her other hand working my cock with torturous slowness. Behind us, I heard the rustle of clothing and the hiss of a zipper being lowered. Troy was undressing.
“Get a condom, he’s eager,” Aimee said.