Chapter 5
The kitchen was the warmest room in the house. It always had been. Old range, bad lighting, a counter worn smooth where her mother set grocery bags.
Tessa was in one of my shirts and nothing else. Hair wet. Skin clean. Bennett had been circling that fact for ten minutes, eating nothing, watching her reach for a glass like it was a personal insult.
“I got her mouth,” he said. Not loud. Not joking. “That’s all I got.”
Reid was already in the fridge. I had crackers and a jar of peanut butter because this house never had real food when the parents left. I didn’t look up from spreading it.
“You came in two minutes and then played with her tits. That was your night.”
“Cole.”
I glanced at Tessa. She was pretending to drink water. She wasn’t pretending well.
“Alright,” I said. “Counter.”
Bennett’s chair scraped. Tessa set the glass down.
I nodded at the stretch of butcher block by the sink, and she turned and planted her hands on it without being walked there.
The shirt rode up. Bennett shoved it higher, kicked her feet apart, and I heard the sound of him getting his cock out like he’d been holding that noise in since the shower.
He pushed into her pussy in one hard stroke.
Tessa’s breath punched out of her. Bennett didn’t give her the slow version. He grabbed her hips and started fucking her like he had something to prove, the wet slap of it sharp in the quiet kitchen, her fingers squeaking on the wood.
I ate a cracker.
Reid leaned against the fridge with a piece of cheese and watched Bennett’s hips snap against her ass. Tessa dropped her head between her arms and moaned into the counter, the shirt sliding off one shoulder.
“Harder,” I said, mild. “You wanted it so bad. Don’t get gentle now that I said yes.”
Bennett swore and gave it to her. The bottles at the back of the sink jumped. Tessa went up on her toes and he dragged her back onto him, relentless, the kind of pace that was half want and half resentment that he’d been last in line.
“Fuck-Tess!”
She was moaning, open-mouthed, eyes slit, getting railed in her mother’s kitchen while Reid ate cheese and I licked peanut butter off my thumb.
Bennett reached around and found her clit like he’d been thinking about that specific thing under the water.
Tessa’s elbow buckled. I reached over, not in a hurry, and put her hand back on the counter.
“Stay up. He gets your cunt. He doesn’t get to fold you in half unless I say.”
Bennett fucked her through that, meaner for being allowed, the shirt bunched at her waist, her wet hair stuck to her cheek. The furnace kicked on in the basement and the floor hummed under our feet. Nobody moved to check it.
Reid held the cheese out toward me like this was any other night in this house.
I took it.
Bennett didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to fuck four years out of his system against the edge of the sink.
Bennett came with his forehead dropped between her shoulder blades and his hips flush to her ass, a broken sound punched out of him, filling her in hard little jerks against the counter.
He stayed there a second too long. Then he pulled out, breathing like he’d run the stairs, and left her bent over the butcher block with it already starting to slip down her thigh.
Reid set the last of the cheese on the counter.
“Cole.” He said it quiet. Not a joke. “Can I?”
I looked at Tessa. She hadn’t stood up yet. Her fingers were still spread on the wood, my shirt wrinkled at her waist, Bennett’s mess shiny on her skin in the bad kitchen light.
“Yeah,” I said. “Chair.”
Reid sat. Kitchen chair, old, one of the ones that always wobbled.
He got his cock out and leaned back and Tessa understood the rest without a speech.
She pushed off the counter, turned, and let him pull her into his lap facing him.
He held her hips and she reached down and guided him in, slick from Bennett, easy, a punched-out breath when she sank all the way down.
“There,” Reid murmured, almost surprised by his own voice. “Stay.”
Then he made her move.
Not a bounce she chose. His hands on her waist, lifting her and dropping her back onto him, setting a rhythm that made the chair creak across the tile.
Tessa grabbed his shoulders and rode because he was making her ride, thighs working, my shirt sliding off one shoulder again.
Bennett had collapsed into the other chair, spent, watching his own come get fucked deeper into her every time Reid pulled her down.
I stayed where I was against the counter and ate the last cracker.
“Slower,” I said. “I want to see it.”
Reid slowed. Let her feel every inch. Tessa’s head tipped forward until her forehead hit his, and she made a small helpless sound every time her ass met his thighs.
He kissed her like he hadn’t been allowed to earlier: open, hungry.
Then put his mouth on her throat and kept using her hips like handles.
“Fuck, Tess.”
“She’s riding you in her mother’s kitchen,” I said. “Don’t get sentimental. Make her work.”
Reid lifted her higher and brought her down harder. The chair legs hopped. Tessa whimpered and clung and took it, wetter now, Bennett’s mess and her own making an obscene sound in the quiet. I reached out as she rose and tucked her hair behind her ear so I could see her face.
“Good. Just like that. You can come on him if you want. He asked nicely.”
Reid groaned and buried his face against her chest, shirt and all, and kept making her ride him like the permission might expire.
Reid felt it start in her before she made a sound.
Her thighs clamped around him, rhythm breaking, that helpless grind she couldn’t dress up as anything else. He kept lifting her and seating her anyway, shorter now, meaner, and I watched her mouth fall open on a breath that didn’t make it all the way out.
“That’s it,” I said from the counter. “Don’t fight it. Come on his cock.”
Tessa shattered.
It hit her hard enough that she folded into Reid’s chest, a raw cry punched out of her, cunt locking down so tight he swore and had to hold her through it.
Her hips jerked with no rhythm at all. The chair scraped.
She came like it hurt, shaking, wet, my shirt rucked up under Reid’s hands while he kept her planted on him and let her pulse around his cock.
“Fuck-Tess-I can’t-”
“In her,” I said.
Reid slammed her down one last time and came with his face in her throat, a broken groan, filling her while she was still clenching from her own orgasm.
He held her there, hips twitching, emptying into her in the wobbly kitchen chair like he’d been saving it since she first sat in my lap on the couch.
Tessa whimpered and went slack against him, full again, Bennett’s mess and now Reid’s, thighs trembling on either side of his lap. Reid stroked her back with a hand that didn’t know what to do now that he’d been allowed to finish. He didn’t pull out. Neither of them moved.
I set the empty cracker sleeve on the counter and looked at the two of them in her mother’s kitchen, the furnace humming under the floor, the house as ordinary and ugly as it had always been.
Bennett dragged a hand over his mouth and didn’t say anything.
Reid kissed her shoulder, once, like he couldn’t help it.
I let them sit like that. Not long. Just long enough.