Chapter 13
COLLIN
For the first time ever, I’m woken up by… a rooster.
The sound feels like it’s directly next to my ear, and like a petulant child, I go to wrap my pillow around my head and pray to whatever god may take pity on me that I’m relieved of my suffering soon.
God, when did Miles fucking get roosters?
The sound continues and pretty much claws at the inside of my brain.
I pause.
Miles.
His name bounces around my head on repeat, and after a moment, my eyes snap wide open. I drop the pillow to sit upright and survey my surroundings—and sure enough, Miles Thompson is snuggled up to my right side while Kayla cuddles to my left.
It wasn’t a dream.
As my brain fully wakes up, everything from the previous night hits me on repeat.
The barn. The shower. His bed.
How sore my fucking dick is from a bullshit piercing that is gonna leave me cockblocked for six weeks.
How sore my ass is from… my boss having his way with me.
The glory hole.
As I turn toward Miles, my eyes catch on the cell-phone laying on his nightstand—displaying the image of an alarm. But that’s not what makes my head quirk to the side.
His phone is playing morning rooster sounds.
Miles alarm is a fucking rooster.
A deep laugh bellows out of me before I can help it. Both Kayla and Miles groan at me, and Kayla is the first to speak. “What the fuck is that? A rooster?”
The smartass-ery flows out of me, and my laugh comes out choked. “Kayla, babe. The old-man cowboy has a fucking rooster alarm.”
Kayla’s giggles are immediate.
“Fucking brats,” Miles says, his voice hoarse from sleep. Before either of us can blink, Miles’ hands cover both of our mouths, effectively shutting up our giggles.
I resist the urge to lick it.
God, I want to.
But as my eyes trace every inch of him, I have the deep urge to lick everything I see.
Yeah, no. Not a single regret for the night prior.
Miles’ eyes snap to mine. “Nuh-uh. Chore time.”
My eyes widen. I didn’t even talk and he knew what I was thinking.
He rolls his eyes, then rolls out of bed. As naked as the day he was born, he strides to his closet, not saying another word. My eyes trail after him hungrily before I turn to Kayla. “God day-um.”
She snorts. “Dude, I know.”
I can’t help myself. “Did you see his ass? Holy shit. I can’t wait until my cock heals up…”
Miles’ laugh sounds from in his closet. “I can hear both of you.”
I blush deeply, and I know without even looking in the mirror that I could transform into a fire truck. “If you have such good hearing for an old man, why the fuck do you have a rooster as your alarm?”
He exits his walk-in closet, somehow already fully dressed and ready for the day.
The fuck? Houdini cowboy.
He nods his head to Kayla as he reaches for one of his hats hanging on a mounted wall rack. “What do you call it? Uhhh… for the aesthetician? Yeah. Anyways, morning chores. We’ll talk later then, yeah?”
My mouth falls. “Uhhh… yeah, sure. You don’t wanna talk now?”
Miles is already halfway out the door as he says, “Nope. If I talk to either of you right now, it’s going to end up with my cock buried in something. I’m in the timeout corner. Be back in a bit!”
Now my mouth falls wide open.
Kayla laughs nervously. “Well, I guess we’re not homeless.”
“Never say never,” I muse, and then pause. I turn to her with a raised brow. “Aesthetician?”
“Aesthetic,” she corrects.
And that dumbass, sarcastic laugh falls out of me yet again.
If this were a sitcom, I just know the viewers would have their noses pressed to the screen to enjoy the potential shit show that this discussion may be. Shit, I’d be treating this like some queer porno that has the occasional lovey-dovey moment.
Too bad I’m far more anxious over the potential of lovey-dovey.
I sigh.
I’m a whore.
Kayla and I sit at the kitchen island and watch as a very dirty Miles walks toward us, and I swallow the saliva building in my mouth before it can turn into drool.
When Miles makes it to the island, he removes his black cowboy hat and moves to sit across from us.
“So…” he starts.
Kayla cuts him off. “Next time you tell someone ‘we need to talk,’ maybe start the discussion right there.”
I smirk at the attitude lining her voice.
And here I thought she was calm, collected, and composed all morning.
Wrong.
Miles’ eyes go wide. “I was only gone three hours? If that.”
She huffs. “I said what I said.”
I interrupt them before a bratty world war starts. “No more beating around the bush. Where does this put us?”
Miles sighs and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “You guys… can’t remain employees.”
My stomach drops.
Kayla’s face falls entirely.
I nod. “Okay. When do we need to be out? We’ll pay you for any days we can stay extra to make sure we have something lined up.”
Miles’ eyebrows pinch together. “What? Why? I’m not kicking you out.”
Kayla’s voice is timid. “You’re not?”
Miles’ head swivels back and forth between us, and then he sighs and places his head in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve already fucked this up.”
Sure felt like he knew what he was doing.
I keep that comment to myself, though.
He continues. “Listen, I don’t even know if either of you are wanting something romantic.
I’ve gone years being alone, and simply put, I’m done.
But I know myself too. And I know I’m not comfortable just being a dildo, or whatever.
So… it’s either we do this entirely, or we ignore it and go back to how it was before. ”
I look at Kayla.
Kayla looks at me.
Whatever witchcraft powers we have solidify it without us even talking.
Kayla speaks first. “I’m open to trying.”
Miles looks at both of us—first me, then her, and then me again. “Yeah? A-uhm… perpetual threesome? I guess?”
I choke on my own laughter. “Miles, sweetheart…”
Kayla shakes her head. “It’s called polyamory.”
“Poly… am…” Miles starts. “Huh?”
My shoulders shake with laughter. “A throuple also works.”
He bites his bottom lip and stands up slowly. “How about, no labels, other than I’m yours and you both belong to me.”
My cock stirs behind my zipper. “I like that.”
Kayla pauses. “What about our jobs? We need money to survive, ya know.”
Miles rounds the table and bends down to press a kiss to her cheek. “What did I say yesterday?”
She almost glares at him. “A lot.”
He rolls his eyes, and turns to me, where he places a kiss on my cheek next. “I take care of my women, and now, my men. Do whatever you want. You still have a home.”
A home.
Those words alone make me want to cry.
Miles’ phone lets out a chirping sound, breaking us all out of the tense moment.
What is it with this man and bird sounds?
His head lowers and a deep sigh escapes him. “Now, for the hardest part…”
“What’s that?” Kayla asks, head quirking to the side.
He pulls his phone out, and the name Birdie is flashing over his screen. “I have to tell my daughter I’m in a throuple with two people who are closer to her age than mine.”
I hiss a breath through my teeth.
Yikes.
But also…
Fuck yes.
DILFs for the win—as long as Birdie doesn’t kill us, or him.
THE END.