“I really do,” she says, sounding pained.
Reese’s head moves more vigorously under her and she collapses forward, gripping his abdomen with her nails as her body writhes with pleasure.
In the middle of her abandon, she looks up at us, her jaw hanging open with a moan and desperation written all over her.
I grip my cock hard and come shoots out onto my lap. I’ve never come this hard from my own hand and I double over, watching Blaire as she crawls her way to Reese’s dick and takes him in her mouth as he loses his own control.
Colt growls and he can’t hold it any longer, either.
All three of us lose our minds as rope after rope of semen releases. And all for her.
I didn’t even touch her, yet every cell in my body hums for her and only her.
Fuck.
I just came, but I already want more of her. I want to hold her in my arms and make her feel cared for, not just desired.
“Blaire-” I begin to say, but a knocking sound cuts through my words.
She cusses and rushes to pull her pants back up.
“The hour is over,” a voice I don’t recognize comes through the phone.
“Where the hell are you guys?” Colt asks.
“You don’t want to know.” Reese scurries up and tucks himself into his pants before the phone disconnects.
As my screen goes black, I wonder what the hell just happened.
And more importantly, when can we do it again?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Blaire
I tap my foot nervously on the floor of Reese’s Jeep as we drive home. How the hell did I go from looking for love to this? And what even is this? Was that a sex show that I just put on, or was it a statement of intent?
I need to clear my head.
At least I know the coast is clear at Rile Ranch for the time being. Briggs had texted before the, uh, show? Is that what we’re calling it? Anyway, he said that he had played dumb with Patricia and she seemed to believe it.
As soon as we park in the driveway, I hop out of the car. I give Reese an awkward ‘thanks’ before heading to the camper.
“Blaire-” he starts to say as I walk away.
“All good! It’s just that I told Lacey I’d meet her at the camper to work on it.” I say as I wave bye to him and pick up my pace. It’s only a small lie. I texted her frantically on the car ride home and asked if she could meet me. Luckily, she has the day off and agreed.
When Lacey arrives, I’m sprawled out on the bedroom floor of the camper with papers splayed all around me. Gram made good use of this camper and there’s documentation spreading over about 50 years. Old maps and brochures have handwritten notes all over them. Some of the notes are from when my mom and my Aunt Lou, Lacey’s mom, were little and mark things like ‘good restroom for diaper changes’. Others include notes about which venues she performed at, including things like ‘creepy club owner’ and ‘made 100 bucks’. It hits me that she left me much more than a camper when she left me this, but a personal history.
“I thought you were supposed to be cleaning this place up?” Lacey clears a space on the floor next to me and sits down cross-legged.
“I couldn’t throw any of it out. Not without seeing if you want any of it.” I take a deep sigh. It’s so much stuff, but it all feels valuable.
“Maybe we make some kind of book of all of it? That way you can move it out of here at least.”
I nod. It’s a good idea. I guess I don’t actually need to go through all of it, but I guess I’m looking for some kind of clue.
“Why do you think Nan wanted me back here after she died? Like what’s the point of all this?” I ask as I hand her an old Polaroid of our moms in their early teens. They’re perched on barstools with bright red Shirley Temples in front of them. Despite the sugary drinks, neither of them looks very happy.