Authors: Stephanie Beck
"Why would you choose to do something like this, Michael?” The question had weighed on her mind for weeks, but the time never seemed right to ask.
"Like what, beautiful?” he asked absently, continuing his sensual cleaning.
"Like sharing a woman. Of the three brothers, it surprises me most you would want an arrangement like this. You seem like the kind of guy who'd be happy in the suburbs with a wife and kids. Do you know what I mean?"
"I suppose.” He braced her and lifted her right foot. “I was engaged about five years ago to a woman I thought I'd be happy with. Her name was Tiffany, and we met after a drug bust she helped my unit with. She was kind, sweet, funny, but even though I thought I loved her, I couldn't make myself bring her here. I knew—knew—she wouldn't be with Cody and Trevor. She wasn't the kind of woman who could. Women like you, who can love more than one man with the ferocity and heart you are capable of, are a rare breed, and Tiffany wasn't one."
"We are gluttons for punishment.” She ran her fingers through his wet hair, touched by his description of her.
"Anyway, I probably would've been happy with her, probably would have had a couple kids, moved to the burbs like you said, and we would've had a good enough life. I'm a big boy. I'm perfectly capable of being content when I don't get my way.
"Then this show came on one night about polyandry and polygamy, and yeah, I know it's not for everyone, and I know some people abuse it by adding girls that are too young. I really do understand the hesitance some people feel about it, but when I learned how little she thought of the practice, even a loving version with consenting adults...that was it. I couldn't live with someone who held my family in contempt. She never struck me as an unreasonable person, so she might have tried to understand.
"It wasn't enough, not when it comes to my family. Maybe I was looking for an escape, but I broke the engagement. I told her I wasn't ready to get married, I was sorry. I mean, I really cared for her and I know she loved me. Breaking up was painful for both of us, even if I was relieved. I was shot a few weeks later and came home, and five years later we found you.
"So yeah, I guess I can see what you mean about the ‘burb life,’ but I'm so damn thankful I didn't settle for ‘all right.’ Knowing what the best is, and really knowing what it means to be happy, seconds would have paled in comparison."
"I'm glad.” Water rolled down their faces, hiding her tears. “I am so glad."
He kissed her, the moment so intense and sweet any ache from their earlier encounter in the barn was forgotten as he gently tucked her in the shower's corner. Her height made the angle awkward but being together was too right to wait. He lifted her carefully, keeping his feet balanced, and she wiggled her shoulders to fit until her foot caught the edge of the tub and braced.
The head of his penis found the perfect angle and incredibly slowly he lowered her into place, inch by inch until she was impaled and his lips were pressed to her forehead. She couldn't control her whimpers when he lifted her again, methodically moving her body up and down his length, almost totally out, then back down to complete connection.
There was no rush and she held him tight, along for the ride. With her body sensitive in pregnancy and already stimulated from the barn, she was coming before the second stroke. Michael's lovemaking triggered small, pulsing orgasms, making new ones when she helplessly clenched his cock with every stroke.
His hands stayed gentle despite the slickness of her skin, yet she didn't worry about him dropping her. Michael would never let her fall. No one was as steady as her man, and even in climax he maintained control because he had to keep her safe. She loved it when he lost his head in bed and loved pushing him beyond his masterful, easy going control. There was something equally as special when he maintained his restraint, as he had under the shower's flow. He was a master of his domain, able to read any situation and make it the best possible.
She felt his release between her thighs and also in the easing of the shoulder muscles beneath her fingers. He shifted her to the ground, holding her tightly until her feet found the floor. He kept a hand on her waist as he grabbed the wash cloth again and hit his knees before her. Kissing her breasts, belly and thighs, before and after washing them with the soft cloth, he made his way across her body.
With each press of his lips exhaustion weighted until she sagged into his shoulder, her whole body completely satisfied from all the lovemaking. The water took some of the aches she was sure to feel, but the only thought in her brain was Michael.
When Cody returned with a light lunch for Poppy and sandwiches for the rest, she was cuddled in bed with Michael, Trevor sitting beside them working on his laptop. It was happening like their dads said. One by one the connections were being made, and he'd be blind if he didn't see something special was growing between her and Michael. Cody, like Trevor, wished she loved him first, but with one down it meant her heart was ready for them all.
Soon enough it would be him cuddling with Poppy, hearing how much she loved him, and not just with her body. Keeping his words in while she grew accustomed to life with them and love was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but his day was coming. That would be the best day, Cody decided, the day she loved him like he loved her.
Trevor tapped her butt to get her attention and when she looked up it was with a smile for both of them, no annoyance at being interrupted from her time with Michael. She cared, and if the look on her face was honest, and they'd learned she couldn't lie worth a damn, she was happy. They weren't perfect, they made their mistakes, but they were doing something right.
It was late, long after midnight, but not nearly close enough to morning for Poppy. She woke with a stomach ache, no doubt from eating too much. Michael brought half a dozen pizzas of all styles and varieties and she'd enjoyed abundantly. At the time it was delicious, but she was paying for the excess with uncomfortable babies turning and kicking.
Her boys were sleeping, Michael in her bed while the other two had found their way to their rooms. They had an informal rotation they kept if they didn't all stay, and tonight only Michael was sleeping with her. Cody or Trevor would have woken when she left to find some Tums. Michael needed three snooze alarms and a glass of water on the head sometimes.
She was never without someone it seemed, and she found herself liking the constant company. She sat and put her feet up on the sofa with her blanket and soda beside her. Scooting, she tried to find the sofa's sweet spot and relaxed when she was finally comfortable, her aching stomach and her men on her mind. Surrounded by the ones who loved her and their family was a good place to be. Putting Cody off about the love thing hadn't been easy, but the time put another layer of perspective on the relationship. Love was surrounding her.
She didn't recognize it because it was so normal and easy in the Paraby house, but once Michael explained his reasons for their relationship, she saw it all over. Love was present when Mary griped at her sons about stealing her bleach. It was there when the boys rolled their eyes in response, and Trevor ordered a flat of the stuff off eBay.
Affection and emotion like they had was not the same as in her family home.
The fireplace snapped like a log dropped. It was electric so that wasn't possible, but it brought to mind her father's house. There was a fireplace in his formal living room. They never used it and it was probably capped off, but it was there for everyone to see. Lying in the dark watching the fire flicker, she remembered having mono and staring at the lifeless fireplace. She'd barely been thirteen, miserable and horribly sick in the house by herself.
When her symptoms interfered with her breathing, her sister took her to the hospital. After three days alone, her sisters busy with their families, she'd been sent home to recover while her father worked.
He sent her back to school the moment the doctor said she was no longer infectious. She remembered being exhausted, ill and pitiful, but in her father's mind she should have been fine, so he'd treated her as such. She couldn't pretend ensuring basic medical attention was love.
Only hours before, Trevor carried her from the kitchen to her room because she'd yawned while getting a glass of water. He said he didn't want her getting too tired, because then she would get sick. Her eyes burned just thinking about the absolute sweetness in his expression when he'd toted her around. Whether or not Poppy believed what Cody said about love early on hadn't mattered as Trevor laid her in bed, because in that moment her doubts were eradicated.
Then, he'd tucked her in and asked if she wanted him to scare away the monsters.
He was being silly, of course. Thomas told her stories of the three boys and the terrifying monsters they imagined under their beds. Every night one or more dad had been enlisted to scare them away, toss them out, and on rare occasions, shoot the bastards.
No one had ever scared her monsters away. She'd always been read to, usually from one of her father's textbooks or whatever novel her sisters were reading, but no one ever checked the back of her neck to make sure she was warm enough. No one ever kissed her extra to guarantee sweet dreams. But Trevor, Michael, and Cody did those things for her.
"Fuck."
Poppy looked away from the fire to find Trevor holding the toe he'd stubbed. He had an ongoing battle with the couch and its tendency to jump out in front of his feet. He was losing. The house was warm and the floor was heated, so he only wore black boxer briefs. He preferred them over Michael's boxers and Cody's tighty-whities. Her men presented a wonderful array of differences, even in underwear preferences.
His attention finally turned her way, and she realized he hadn't expected to see her out of her room. She knew some nights he wandered, inspiration hitting at odd times. In his business the next big idea was the only important one, and though he seemed carefree, she knew he was under immense pressure to make his next game bigger and better.
"Hey, babe.” He gingerly tested his abused toe. “Everything okay?"
"Tummy ache.” Saluting him with her glass of Seven-Up, she pulled her blanket higher.
"I'll go wake up Dad."
She caught him before he hopped past. “Please don't. I ate too much, that's all. Why are you up, sweetie?"
"Zombies and strippers on the brain.” He plopped down on the couch and grinned. “I was going to eat the rest of the pizza and try to sleep. Sometimes if I let things simmer all night, the ideas are boiling by morning."
"You're so smart and creative, Trevor.” Moving to the side, Poppy gave him enough room to stretch out beside her, his slim frame fitting easily on the wide couch cushions. “I wish I could do stuff like you. Some of it really is art, you know."
"Naw, it's just video games. Millions of little pixels and pieces at my command.” He tucked the blanket over both of them and settled back. “I like to think of myself as more of a general than an artist, maybe potentate even."
"You would.” She laughed and nestled her head against his shoulder.
They lay quietly with the fake fire burning. There was also a real one, but lighting it was a pain and she didn't want to bother with it. The electric one was nice and very realistic. It made the noises and threw heat as well.
With her family she lived the electric fireplace half-life. It looked similar to the real thing, even sounded like the real thing on most occasions, but wasn't family. Knowing what family felt, looked, sounded, and even smelled like, she was glad she'd taken the chance of getting burned. She wasn't sure she would have agreed a few months ago, but now she knew the rewards outweighed the risks.
Trevor's hand settled on her stomach, which had grown much bigger during her month at the ranch. At Thanksgiving dinner, everyone added a little to her plate and told Duane to shut up when he advised against eating for three. They'd done the sappy talk about what they were thankful for after pumpkin pie was passed around. She'd never had anyone say they were thankful for her and she'd cried her eyes out as Cody, Michael and Trevor did just that. They were thankful for her, and for their healthy baby girls, growing safely inside her.
She was grateful, completely content with the turn her life was taking and for the people in it. Cody had cuddled her on his lap, fed her pie while the tears dried up, and kept her there until Michael lifted her to his own. Trevor settled her on his lap during a football game later. It was her best Thanksgiving ever.
Trevor's hand rubbing the twins, who continued to kick and turn just shy of enough to be felt by their dads, reminded her of that day. It was perfect in her mind and the memory, along with the soothing touch, was helping her relax. She should have wanted a little alone time, should have needed a night to herself, but she didn't. She wanted to cuddle with Trevor and fall asleep with him cooing to their babies.
"You're not out here thinking about leaving us again, are you?” he asked, breaking her out of her cuddly, happy thoughts. “Because you know how sorry I am for what I said, right?"
"What did you say?” Nothing horrible enough for an apology invaded her happy memory laced mind.
"Your second week here.” Shame filled his voice. “What I said that made you leave."
"Oh, that.” She wondered if what she'd forgiven and moved past had weighed on him all along. “Trevor, it's done. Remember what I told you about my dad? You hurt my feelings, but I know you aren't like him and until you prove you are, I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?” He sounded so young, his seductive voice uncertain, and she knew he hated that, she hated it too.
"Do I promise? Do I promise to stay with the three men who made me smile in San Antonio when I was a wreck? Do I promise to stay with the men who gave me two perfect babies and claim paternity when they could shrug me off? Do I promise not to leave the men who hold me every night and any time during the day when I need a hug or cry?"