Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
TWO WEEKS LATER
TROY
The growls coming from Alisa’s side of the couch are becoming a bit concerning. I can hear her over my headphones as I watch game tape beside her. She’s been furiously typing on the laptop, and I have a feeling it’s not going so well.
What do I know about writing though? Maybe it’s part of her process? She’s been trying to write on the laptop a couple of hours a day, because she read somewhere that keeping a schedule is important.
Lyle told her he bought a new computer for himself, but as I glance at her, I know this has to be a lie.
I can see this is a new model, and there aren't any signs of wear and tear on it. He’s a softie, and this alone shows how much he adores her.
I don’t plan to share his secret. It was difficult enough for Alisa to accept a present this large to begin with.
Huffing out a groan, she snaps the laptop closed and drops it beside her on the couch.
“Want to talk about it?” I can’t laugh. Nope, absolutely not.
Yet, her pout is so damn cute.
“I wanted to write a happy story and this is not happy,” she sighs.
I pull out my ear buds and pause the video I’m watching before turning toward her.
“But do you think it’s good?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “It could be shit.”
“Doubtful!” Silas yells from somewhere in the house. “Don’t make me come in there and spank the negativity out of you.”
I find myself shivering, and Alisa perfumes as she gasps with wide eyes. Ugh, this shouldn’t be this hot.
“Did we know he was home?”
“He got back a half an hour ago,” I grin. He was quiet coming in and Alisa has been in a writing groove.
A couple of days ago, Lyle sat us down and asked how we’d feel if he ran for mayor. He’d appoint Easton as police commissioner and start cleaning up shit in Savannah from the inside. The current mayor is apparently an idiot and the police commissioner is a bully.
My only question was if my possible media shitstorm would be an issue. Sex photos are a liability, right?
Lyle just shrugged and said he’d figure it out. In the meantime, Silas is garnering positive public support for him. Life is so odd, but I think the city needs this.
Since that conversation, things continue on with a normalcy I’m beginning to depend on. Well, as normal as it can be for us. Shifting carefully on the couch, I wince as the toy in my ass makes its existence known.
It’s a constant ache as it stretches my asshole. It was put inside me at breakfast, and I’ve been trying to ignore how hard my dick is ever since.
Our alphas were very serious about Alisa and I wearing butt plugs regularly.
It continued with them teasing us with a reminder about the plugs this morning.
I’ve had a couple of away games over the past two weeks and wear the plug whenever I’m not actively playing.
It keeps my mind sharp, and I video chatted with them when I got really horny.
I’m a bit superstitious, and now I think I’m going to have to wear a butt plug before every game, even if it’s just during my nap. Ugh, it would figure my brain would need to make this part of my game ritual. At least it’s something I can control instead of something I can’t have while on the road.
I stayed in a room alone which helped with spicy phone calls, and I found out Alisa is really into telling me what to do. I played with the plug and fucked my cock with my hand until I came all over myself, and she looked very proud of herself.
Every day, we find out new things about each other and she appears happier. It would be silly to believe our pack can fix everything for her, but we’re both still against therapy. I am desperately scared it’s going to get leaked somehow.
“Not every story needs to be a happy one,” I say slowly.
“I hate that I’m doing so many awful things to my characters,” she groans. “They’ll be happy eventually, but in the meantime I think they need to be bubble wrapped.”
Silas steps into the room and raises his brow, watching her.
“The best stories are ones where they fight like hell to get their happy ending,” he drawls.
“Those are the books I enjoy picking up. Get everything out on the page, and then go through and reread it. We can publish it under a pseudonym so no one knows it’s you if you want. The sky is the limit, Alisa.”
“I didn’t even think about anyone else seeing this.” She seems genuinely surprised at the thought.
“The world is on fire, baby. People need something to hope for,” Silas says. “I was looking for ways I could help you stay motivated, and I saw there are websites that will link you to other writers to body double with.”
“Maybe that’ll keep me from getting so frustrated,” she mutters. “I just need to detach and write.”
“Maybe,” Silas says, his lips curling in a way that has my cock bouncing up in my joggers. “In the meantime, I have something that may help your frustration.”
“Oh?” she asks, her arousal heightening.
“I mentioned spanking, but what if we did it to settle the jumble of emotions you’re feeling?”
“Fuck,” I breathe. He’s not even talking to me and my ass is already flexing around the plug.
“Troy thinks it’s a good idea,” Silas grins. “Do you want an attitude adjustment, Little Fighter?”
Silas looks like a fucking dream in a pair of dark cream trousers, bare feet, and nothing else.
His arms cross over his chest and his erection is thick down the side of his leg.
I swear, sometimes they leave the house in their slutty suits without boxers in an effort to get the world to agree to whatever they want.
It’s wild behavior for Lyle to go to court while free knotting with his cock bouncing in his pants, but I know he’s done it before.
Inevitably, Silas or Easton end up with his dick down their throat on their knees at his office, despite Lyle telling me they’re not supposed to go there since they distract him from working.
Sometimes, distractions are fun.
“What do you think?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she breathes, her lips parted as she thinks about it. Fuck yes.
Pushing off the wall, he walks toward us, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.
“Color,” he growls. Alisa whimpers as her eyes land on the fabric in his hands. “It all ends when you say it does, baby.”
“Yellow,” she whispers.
Silas drops to his knees in front of her, and his fingers cup her chin as he pushes her eyes up to meet his.
“Are you worried about having your hands tied?” he asks her. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she nods slowly. “Can you try?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, pulling her into a hug. He pulls her hair from the haphazard bun she had it in, and begins to drop kisses on her temple, cheek and lips.
His hands massage her shoulders, down her arms, and her wrists, relaxing her before he lifts her up to sit on his lap.
“Arms behind your back, please,” he says. Silas keeps his voice nice and low as she does as he asks, and he turns her body to tie her wrists securely. “Is that too tight?”
“No, I’m good.”
Silas hugs her against his chest, and his eyes move toward me.
Taking the hint, I rub her legs over her pajama pants.
We are both bumming it today, and I grin at her before kissing her lips.
Her moan is sweet as I tease her mouth open, and my tongue pushes inside as my hands ghost up her body until my thumbs rub over her pants covered pussy.
She whimpers as I soothe her, and Silas slides his hands underneath her tank top.
I’m quick to move all of our devices out of the way, my eyes on her as soon as they are.
His hands span her stomach, and I grin as his thumbs tease the undersides of her breasts.
She doesn’t love to wear a bra, and I see nothing wrong with her letting her girls go free.
“Can I take your shirt off?” Silas asks, kisses up her jaw. Her little sounds are driving me wild, and I swallow hard as he makes sure she knows she’s in control the entire way.
“Mmhmm.”
I push her tank top up and off, making sure my thumbs graze her nipples. They pebble quickly as I blow on them, and Silas pulls the top down to where her wrists are bound at the small of her back.
“Lay on your stomach for me, Alisa.”
Silas and I help her move until her cheek is pressed against my thigh and she’s kneeling on the couch.
“Mmm. Just a second, baby.”
This entire couch pulls apart and Silas shoves part of it away until Alisa can place her feet on the ground. Now, she’s laying across Silas and my laps, and her feet are planted properly.
His hands continue to massage her body until her eyes grow heavy and then he’s peeling the waistband of her joggers and panties over her ass down to her thighs.
“Silas.” Her voice is soft and sleepy as she shivers, half naked, and his hand begins to squeeze her ass.
“Color, Little Fighter?”
“Green.”
His fingers move over her pussy lips and she sighs as she lets him do whatever he wants.
“I want to spank these lips,” he breathes. “You’ll squirm, moan, and come when I say you can. If it gets to be too much, you can suck on Troy’s dick for comfort.”
The last couple of nights, Alisa has been having trouble winding down for sleep. She says there’s too much going on in her mind, and she can see entire scenes moving in her imagination. This wouldn’t be a problem, but it keeps her brain too busy to slip off to sleep.
At first, Easton tried playing with her hair, massaging her scalp the way she likes, yet it didn’t help.
Lyle jokingly asked if she needed an orgasm, and Alisa asked if she could suck on the tip of his cock.
It came out of nowhere and his jaw practically unhinged itself, while Silas rescued him.
He figured out exactly what she wanted, and Lyle pushed down his sweatpants to allow her access.
Last night, she used Silas to suck on, and she was asleep in minutes. I can’t explain the little quirk, but I have been enjoying the way their eyes cross as they force themselves to lay still and play with her hair until she drifts off.