Chapter 4 #3
That one word is all it takes. Trenton's kiss deepens as he backs me toward the dining room. The edge of the table catches me behind the knees, and before I can react, Matthew lifts me onto the polished wood surface.
"Right here," he growls, his eyes dark with need. "Right now."
Hands tear at my clothes, Trenton working at unclasping my bra while Matthew strips my jeans down my legs. I help them, desperate to feel the press and weight of them against me, the realness of it, after six long months of nothing.
"Look at you," Trenton murmurs, his voice rough as he takes in my bare breasts. "Still perfect."
I moan as he takes one nipple into his mouth, the wet heat of his tongue sending lightning through my body. Matthew settles between my legs, his hands sliding up my thighs.
"Christ, Morgan," he whispers, his breath hot against my inner thigh. "You're soaked."
Before I can respond, his mouth is on me, tongue finding my center with devastating precision. I cry out, my hands fisting in his hair as pleasure crashes through me.
Trenton moves lower, his lips replacing Matthew's, giving him room to worship my breasts. The sensation of two mouths on me, working in perfect tandem, pushes me toward the edge faster than I thought possible.
"Please," I beg, not even sure what I'm asking for. "Don't stop."
They don't. They take turns with Matthew's tongue circling my clit while Trenton licks deeper, then switching places. I'm writhing on the table, my hips chasing their mouths, overwhelmed by sensation.
"That's it, baby," Matthew encourages, his fingers joining Trenton's tongue. "Let go for us."
The orgasm tears through me in waves, each one cresting before the last has finished, my body arching off the table as I scream their names. They don't stop as Matthew continues to work me with his mouth while Trenton stands, watching with dark, hungry eyes.
"Again," Trenton commands, and before I can recover, he's between my legs, replacing Matthew's mouth with his own.
I'm still trembling from the first orgasm when the second begins building, Trenton's skilled tongue drawing out every last tremor of pleasure. Matthew moves up my body, kissing a path from my navel to my breasts, his teeth grazing my sensitive nipples.
"I can't," I gasp as the pressure builds again. "It's too much."
"You can," Matthew assures me, his voice gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. "You always could."
Trenton adds his fingers, curving them to hit that perfect spot inside me. The dual sensation is too much, too perfect, and I'm coming apart again, shattering into pieces beneath their relentless attention.
When I finally come down, my body limp and trembling, they're both watching me with naked desire.
"Bedroom," I manage, my voice hoarse from screaming.
They don't make me wait. Matthew lifts me from the table while Trenton gathers our discarded clothes. I'm carried down the hall between them, my body still humming with pleasure.
The bed is cold, but we quickly warm it, our bodies finding each other in the darkness. This time is slower. Trenton's mouth explores every inch of me while Matthew watches, his hand moving lazily between his own legs.
"You're so beautiful like this," Matthew murmurs as Trenton's tongue traces the sensitive skin behind my knee. "Completely at our mercy."
I laugh softly. "Is that what this is?"
Trenton looks up, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Always has been. Always will be."
Later, we lie tangled together, with me between them, safe and warm, trying to anchor myself in the feeling. But an ugly thread of anxiety, one I've lived with for weeks, begins to pull at the edges of my peace. Monday morning. Evan Harris and his too long stares.
The way his hand lingered on my shoulder.
"I don't want to go back," I whisper into the darkness.
Matthew stirs beside me. "To work?"
I nod against Trenton's chest, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. "I know it sounds ridiculous. I love the kids. I love teaching them. But Evan—"
"Who's Evan?" Trenton's voice goes flat.
"One of the parents. His daughter's in my class." I sit up slightly, pulling the sheet around me. "He makes me uncomfortable. Always has. But lately it's been… more."
Matthew shifts to face me, his eyes alert despite the late hour. "What kind of uncomfortable?"
"The way he looks at me. The way he finds reasons to stay after pickup." I twist the edge of the sheet between my fingers. "Last week he brought me flowers. Said it was to thank me for being such a good teacher to Charlie."
Trenton is sitting up now too, the sheet pooling around his waist. "Flowers."
"I threw them away in the staff bathroom," I admit. "Ms. Davis saw me, and the look she gave me… she knows. She tries to stick around when he's there, but he's so careful. He never does anything you can actually call him out on."
"Until he does," Matthew says, his voice hard in a way I rarely hear.
I reach for both their hands. "It's not just Evan. I've been feeling… watched. For weeks now. Small things, like my desk moved slightly, things in my purse disturbed. I thought I was being paranoid because you were both still deployed."
"Call in sick Monday morning," Trenton says immediately. "We'll figure this out."
"I can't. We have a field trip planned to the fire station. The kids have been talking about it for weeks." The conflict tears at me, my need for safety versus my responsibility to those bright little faces that look up at me every day. "They're counting on me."
Matthew's jaw tightens. "We're coming with you."
"What?"
"You heard me." He pulls me closer, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. "We're coming to the day care on Monday. As volunteers."
Trenton agrees without hesitation, already reaching for his phone on the nightstand. "We'll help with the field trip. No one needs to know why we're really there."
The tension in my chest eases slightly. "You'd do that?"
"Em," Trenton says, his voice softer now, "we've spent the last six years keeping you safe from thousands of miles away. Now we're here." He cups my face in his hand. "No one gets near you without going through us first."
"I don't want you to think I'm weak," I whisper.
Matthew's expression darkens. "There's nothing weak about asking for help. Especially when you've been carrying this alone."
I let myself sink back between them, their warmth surrounding me like a shield. "I love those kids so much. They're the reason I kept going some days when missing you both was too hard."
"Then we'll keep them safe too," Trenton promises. "All of them."
Sleep comes easier with their reassurance, but my dreams are restless. I'm searching room after room for something I can't name, each door opening onto another hallway, the urgency mounting until it tips into dread. I wake just before dawn, disoriented until Matthew's voice grounds me.
"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs, pulling me against his chest. "We're here."
"Bad dream," I manage, my heart still racing.
Trenton's already up, moving quietly around the bedroom. "I've been thinking. We should take separate cars tomorrow. I'll go with you in the morning, Matt can join us after stopping by the clubhouse."
"For what?" I ask, sitting up.
Matthew's hand strokes my back in slow circles. "Greyson has connections at the local PD. I want to know if there's anything on this Evan guy."
I hadn't considered that possibility. "You think he has a record?"
"Doesn't hurt to check," Trenton says, pulling on a t-shirt. "And if not, we'll be there to make sure he keeps his distance."
The rational part of me knows this might be an overreaction. But the look in Evan's eyes when he touched my shoulder on Friday wasn't rational. It was like he was measuring me, figuring out exactly how much he could get away with.
"I'll call Ms. Davis," I decide, reaching for my phone. "Tell her you're both volunteering."
The call goes quickly, and Ms. Davis is thrilled to have extra hands for the field trip. By the time I hang up, the sun is rising, casting golden light across our bedroom.
"I should get up," I say, reluctant to leave their warmth.
"Shower together?" Matthew suggests, already swinging his legs out of bed.
The shower provides a brief respite from the anxiety building inside me. Under the hot spray, with Trenton's hands in my hair and Matthew's lips on my neck, I can almost forget about Evan Harris. Almost.
As I dress for work Monday morning, the unease returns. I choose my clothes carefully. Nothing that might attract attention, nothing Evan could interpret as encouragement.
"Stop," Matthew says, noticing my hesitation. He takes my hands, stilling them. "Don't let this asshole change who you are."
"He's already started," I admit. "I've been wearing baggy sweaters to work for weeks. Taking different routes home."
Trenton appears in the doorway, his expression hardening. "It ends today."
The drive to the day care feels different with Trenton beside me. Part of me is relieved, but another part feels sick with guilt. I just got them back. The last thing I want is to drag them into a mess that started while they were gone.
"I just…" I stare at the colorful building, at the playground where I've spent six years making a life. "This place was supposed to be safe. It feels like he's tainting it."
He reaches across the console, his hand covering mine. "He's the one who tainted it, Morgan. Not you. And we'll make it safe again. That's a promise."
The day care is bustling when we arrive. Parents drop off children, and teachers prepare for the day. Ms. Davis greets us warmly, already assigning Trenton to help with the boys' bathroom breaks before the field trip.
"Morgan!" a small voice calls out, and I look down to find Charlie Harris staring up at me, her father standing behind her.
"Good morning, Charlie," I say, forcing brightness into my voice. "Are you excited for the fire station today?"
She nods enthusiastically. "Daddy says he might come too. Right, Daddy?"
My stomach drops. I hadn't considered that possibility.