Coffee sprayed in a fine mist out through her lips, covering the tidy kitchen table top, onto the floor, and all over poor Crackhead, who had chosen that exact moment to leave the sanctuary of his spot under the bed to make a quick foray to the food bowl.
The cat hissed and sprinted into the tiny utility closet behind where Alex sat, the door of which was open a wedge. All the brooms and mops were stored in there, and when Crackhead shot into it, a broom came out of the closet, handle first, and in slow motion Josie watched it crash into the back of Alex’s head.
“Yeow! Fitz!” Crackhead’s howls of outrage matched Alex’s as Josie watched him leap up and hold his head. She choked on coffee and laughter.
“Crackhead!” Alex shouted, which only made the cat yowl more.
“Welcome to domestic bliss with Josie and her cat,” she said quietly, putting the broom in place and carefully stepping up on Alex’s abandoned chair to kiss the top of his head. “And only Josie and her cat. Crackhead is the only third party in this house, thank you.”
He looked up at her, rubbing his injured spot, eyebrows high. Standing on tiptoes, he reached for a kiss.
“That’s a threesome I’ll take. Me and two pussies. Isn’t that every man’s dream?”
She swatted him on the back of his head.
“Hey! Injured party here!”
“Now you’re definitely going to lunch with Mike and Dylan and Trevor and Joe.”
“I think you need more men in there. Four more and we have a baseball team.”
“Consider yourself the moderator.”
“Of what?”
“Of relationships we’ll never understand.”
“I’m an expert on that one.” He stepped away before she could swat him again.
Trevor
Joe was being a prick all the time these days, and Trevor was struggling to understand why. The two of them had met Darla more than a year ago, when he’d gotten high on peyote and found himself more than six hundred miles from home, na**d and carrying a guitar, a lonely hitchhiker on an Ohio highway.
And Darla had been crazy enough to offer him a ride.
Right now? She was riding him. The three were one hot, sweaty mess of arms and fingers, sighs and moans, the slow, deep friction of sharing Darla like a slow song you dance to by rocking your h*ps in tune to a sultry beat that never hurries, that takes its time.
That savors.
But Joe was being a jerk.
Home from law school and working on the band, he was surly with Darla and only seemed to chill when they were having sex. All three of them.
Which was right now.
God, Darla was so hot. Lush and sweet and ripe, with eyes that invited you to come and play. Come have fun. Come let loose.
Just…come. He had a permanent hard-on whenever he was around her, and no amount of sex satisfied it.
Joe seemed to be the same way, except he resented the fact that Trevor lived in the same city as Darla. Tough shit, dude. You chose to go to law school in Philadelphia. Not my fault I live closer to her and get the benefit of all her pent-up need for you.
How could you have a girlfriend like that and still be an uptight ass**le? Joe managed to do it somehow, and while Trevor had been easygoing about plenty of things in his long-running friendship and now, er…whateverthefuck you called this “relationship,” he was sick and tired of Joe’s bullshit. Calling him on it was well past being overdue.
But not right now when they were both, quite literally, inside Darla. You couldn’t share a body in that kind of close proximity and—
“Oh, Trev, right there,” she moaned. How she knew which man was in which place was a mystery to him, but one he didn’t spend many brain cells on, at least right now, because if he had any brain cells they were all congregated in the tip of his dick, and the rest were inside his balls, ready to rocket-ship out of his body and into hers.
Darla’s fevered face was over him, completely absorbed in her own pleasure. He stared, transfixed, always turned on by watching her enjoy herself. It was a feeling he didn’t know existed, or at least hadn’t experienced, until he’d met her. Touched her. Teased and tasted her, and gotten intimate with her. You could have plenty of sex without intimacy, he’d realized recently. But the letting someone inside your head and heart was so much better than just letting them touch your body.
And when you could do all three, it was f**king awesome.
His back arched as he slid slowly in and out of her, Joe behind Darla, their bodies mingled together, sweat making them slippery. Darla clenched so hard around his c**k that he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, and his body surged, knowing she was close. Red fire shot through him and his thoughts dissipated, her soft flesh in his anxious palms, hands needing to touch whatever he could of her to cling as they both—all three, actually—fell off the cliff into the cavern of climactic bliss.
This was what it felt like to be complete.
He needed them both right here, right now, and especially Darla right f**king there.
She cried out both their names. The sound of her hoarse, uncontrolled release made him come, the three of them turning into nothing but surging muscle and spasming need, thrusts and friction and joy in one tangled bunch of limbs, curves and hard lines like a relief map of f**king amazing sex, and as Trevor rooted himself inside Darla and she crashed and crashed and crashed like waves hitting a breaker wall, a series of thoughts shot through his mind:
This is what love feels like. Not inside your heart or mind, but on your skin, musky and slick with fibers buzzing and grasping.
This is what love tastes like. Salty and free, sweet and sassy, like an orgasm on the tongue.
This is what love sounds like. His name, shattering the huffing cloud of sighs and groans, called out by a throat so perfect he could only answer Darla’s calls with a kiss to that soft spot on her neck.
This is what love is.
Everything was more complete with Joe there, but they didn’t talk about that, either. Love and Joe occupied two very distinct parts of Trevor’s brain, like the two elements were radioactive when they got anywhere near each other, so he kept them in lead-lined box inside his head.
He couldn’t deny it, though. Had stopped fighting it, mostly. Feeling whole left him with a kind of bliss that made the three of them a force of nature that no one defined except them. And that was good enough for Trevor.
Darla began to fidget, his clue that she was done and ready to cuddle. Sliding out of her made him shudder, just once, the final impulses of electrical power elicited by sex crawling out of his dick.