Authors: Stephanie Beck
She knew Trevor had been waiting for her orgasm before moving forward. As she cried out in pleasure around Cody's cock, Trevor slipped his fingers free and replaced them with the head of his cock. He was slimmer than the others, but in no way small, so the first surge through her tight band made her gasp. Every time they tried anal the initial pleasure was a surprise, only surpassed by the incredible orgasm she reached when he was deeply imbedded in her body.
Working all three wasn't something she usually did. It required the right mood, because there was no denying the edge of pain that accompanied the double penetration. She could only handle Michael and Trevor together, Cody's thicker penis too much for her to take.
From the bottom, Michael shifted and pulled her down to his chest. The new position let Trevor move higher on the bed and take charge. His thrusts pushed her into Michael, who held her tight to take it all. Her face pressed to Michael's chest, she lost Cody's cock momentarily. He slipped his thick finger between her lips. She sucked it eagerly, and he moaned almost as loud as she did.
Teamwork, she thought, gasping with every slam that sent her clit to Michael's pelvis, was a beautiful thing.
Trevor finished first. He pulled out at the last moment, her shoulders suddenly wet with his cum. Michael was right behind, the sudden shift enough for him to have room to push hard and fast. It wasn't sufficient though, and he flipped her to her back. She held tight through the sudden change, and when the intense thrusts against her g-spot made her come, she screamed. He made no attempt to follow his brother's example when his moment came. Instead, he surged as deep as he could while his fingers approached bruising on her thighs.
Cody seemed to know she wasn't done, and pulled his well sucked finger from her mouth. He leaned in close to her ear. “Where do you want me, princess? In your beautiful pussy or hot ass?"
"Ass, ass.” Opening her legs and arms, she pulled him close as he settled between her thighs. “But play with my clit too. Please."
"Okay, baby.” Moments later the hard nozzle of the lube breached her sensitive pucker, followed by Cody, thicker than Trevor, making her wince but she didn't want him to stop. With his slippery fingertip on her clit, the discomfort changed to pleasure in a moment. His mouth met hers, kissing her passionately, heavy and hard. “God, I love you so much. I'm not going to last."
"Harder.” She bit his bottom lip, prompting him to jack hammer inside her, though she knew because of his size, he was careful to keep the intensity just short of pain.
He shifted, staying deep inside as he lifted her feet to his shoulders, giving him a deeper angle. She couldn't stop the scream of complete joy as he stretched her further, hitting nerves connected with every pleasure point in her body. As she screamed Michael and Trevor took hold of her feet and sucked hard on her big toes. It was small but added another layer Poppy wasn't sure she could absorb. She spiked into another orgasm, the intensity beyond what she'd hoped, but with her men, it was everything she expected.
She felt tears running down her cheeks, tears of relief, of being beyond overwhelmed in the best possible way. Where she was edgy before, she'd lost all tension in what seemed like moments, but a look to the clock assured her an hour and a half had passed with all four too impassioned to care.
"Come on, beautiful.” Michael lifted her limp, sticky body high to his chest. “You need a nice, long shower before you sleep. Boys, clean up, we'll be back."
"I'm hungry again.” The tears still falling were annoying, but she couldn't stop, wouldn't stop until they dried themselves up.
"On it, babe.” Trevor grabbed his phone while Cody continued to catch his breath, flat on his back across the bed.
Twenty minutes later, clean, dry and wrapped in several blankets to combat shivering, Poppy sighed. The shakes happened like the hyperventilating. It was almost like her body had difficulty dealing with the pleasure shocks after an intense time in bed, but she knew it wouldn't last.
Cody held her against his chest, Trevor and Michael on either side in the clean bed, the first too soiled to sleep in. Trevor hated sleeping on towels but also hated sleeping on the wet spot so always booked suites. Trevor fed her bits of fresh muffins readied for the breakfast buffet, brought up by a very well tipped sous chef while she'd showered, and her world was about as good as it could be.
"Need anything else?” Michael asked, holding her limp hand, Cody already dozing with her damp hair against his chest.
"Sleep?” Still hungry, she couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to eat more.
"Sounds good to me.” Trevor yawned. “We'll take you out for brunch when we recover from this latest sex coma. Satisfied now?"
"For now,” she allowed, closing her eyes.
"I love that answer.” She knew Michael wore the grin he usually did when especially pleased. The one she loved putting on his handsome face. “Love you, beautiful."
"I love you.” Trevor's jaw cracked as he yawned.
"Love you,” Cody said drowsily.
"Thanks guys, I love you all too."
"What? No mimosas?” Poppy teased Michael and Cody as they drank Seven-Up and picked at their fruit and Danishes. “They are great here, you know. I think they use grapefruit juice in them."
Good to his word, Trevor got them a table at a local country club known for amazingly decedent, eight-tiered brunch. Between the twins and the late night romp, she was ready to do justice to each and every food station. Unfortunately for them, the scotch caught up with Cody and Michael, making their stomachs touchy. Trevor kept up, joining her on each trip to the luscious buffet while assuring her it didn't bother him, if she didn't mind him packing on empathetic pregnancy pounds.
Once again in maternity wear, gray leggings and luxurious gray cashmere sweater dress with black leather boots, she was completely appropriate for the five-star dining room. In fact, Trevor all but growled at several men who looked too long. It was true what women's magazines said, a woman having regular sex attracted more men. As a happy woman having great sex Poppy wished she could bottle what she felt for other women. The world would be a much better place if every woman felt as good.
"Just a sec,” Trevor said, pulling out his phone when it vibrated. She hated his phone at meals, but it was business and she was coming to accept it as a necessary evil. He grinned and rubbed his hands together after the short discussion ended. “Awesome news, Van's visa was revoked and he was just sent back to Japan on the eleven o'clock flight from San An."
"What about a settlement? Weren't your lawyers talking to Van's father about a civil lawsuit if he made a plea-deal with the state department?” Michael asked, though Poppy couldn't care less about the deal their lawyers had been working on. She only cared that the shooter was out of the country and wouldn't bother them again.
"They bargained out of court down to, hell what did my lawyer just tell me, assault with a deadly weapon. He pled guilty and gets to do his sentence in Japan. The settlement money was deposited this very morning,” Trevor answered with a grin. “What's your first extravagant purchase going to be, Poppy, and may I suggest something electronic? There's nothing like spending loads of cash on something you know will be smaller and better in two years. Makes the purchase sweeter."
"I'm not even going to think about it. I'm just glad he's gone. Oh, they brought more berries.” Her previous plate of French toast, sausage and poached pears now only a smear of syrup, she was ready for more. “Be right back, no, stay and keep eating. I need the little girl's room. I'll only be a minute."
"I'll be back too,” Trevor said, giving her a kiss before turning toward the exit. “I'm going to let Fred and Jack know they can take off."
The dining room was tastefully packed while maintaining its exclusivity. There were no jeans in sight, instead khakis, tailored suits, and hose covered every leg. Even the younger women wore hose and close toed shoes, propriety still reigning in the matriarchal households of San Antonio society. As a college professor her father didn't have enough clout to get a table, but Greg did, Steven as well, so she knew her way around the fancy shmancy club.
No multi-stalled, sterile bathroom was good enough, instead the toilets were in individual powder rooms within the larger room. The sinks were stocked with thick towels and exclusive toiletries.
She reminded herself to find out their flight time. If there was time Trevor could make a few calls to the salon. She could use a haircut, and his connections were amazing. If anyone could get her pushed to the front of the reservation line it was Middle Man, and he liked when she asked him to do things like that. She could handle a little exclusive treatment if it made him feel good.
The sofas in the parlor area were fussy and over done but fit with the rest of the decor. To top it all off, on the ornate tables mints and fresh pitchers of mimosas waited. The last one made her laugh, though it was almost sad that some tried to replace alcohol in their bloodstream as quickly as they lost it. More than a few women did it every day while they dished about their peers and fashion.
She washed her hands and looked closely at her face. She didn't try to cover her freckles anymore, so she really didn't have much for makeup on, just eye shadow, mascara and a little gloss. She didn't know why she bothered with the gloss, it never lasted long. Cody offered to help if she needed a little color in her cheeks, and at the thought pink tinged them again. A small knock came from the main door as she searched for her gloss, Michael having kissed the last of it off before they'd even made it to the restaurant.
Instead of entering they knocked again. “Yes?"
"Is Eleanor in there?” A husband, she thought and cursed quietly at her missing makeup.
"No, I'm sorry,” Poppy called. “I'm the only one in here right now."
She dug into her purse, setting aside tissues and papers hiding her favorite cherry lip gloss. She didn't notice the door open but she did hear it lock, the little “shtick” making her head jerk toward the door and the man standing there. “Steven?"
"Hello, Poppy.” Her former fiance, as tall and dapper as ever, was not the person she expected.
He was a handsome older man, the gray in his short but thick hair distinguishing instead of detracting. His whole demeanor spoke of confidence, nearly arrogance, and made him a good leader as well as a doctor. She'd found him attractive when she thought all successful men were emotionally distant and domineering. Seeing him after having her men, and feeling love, she knew Steven wasn't nearly the man she'd wanted him to be.
"I believe we have something to discuss.” He stalked further into the room, bypassing the sofas to stand too close for comfort.
"I really can't think of any conversation I'd like to have with you, let alone in the ladies room.” His surprise was evident, but he made no move to unlock the door or leave.
"You told me and your father you miscarried."
"I did. You are not the father of these babies.” His focus on the pregnancy didn't shock her. “But I hear you and your wife are expecting. Congratulations."
"The fetus had Down's Syndrome.” His condescending tone reminded her of one of the many things she didn't miss about their relationship. “She terminated."
Poppy's gasp filled the room. He looked disinterested, but she couldn't hide her dismay. Sometimes abortions had to happen, she knew that from working in a hospital, but as one whose own mother sacrificed everything to give her life, she knew she would never understand why certain decisions were made.
"So, I am once again pursuing other venues.” He closed the small distance between them, her discomfort rising. “You say the baby isn't mine. I say it is. We'll go to my clinic for an amniocentesis and DNA comparison."
"No. These babies aren't yours, Steven. Trevor Patrich is the father.” She hoped he recognized Trevor's programming name. It was a stretch, but Trevor ran in many crowds, and she had to make Steven understand someone else was involved.
"That name means nothing to me.” His empirical tone put her back teeth on edge and made her look at the door. “You will come with me now. That is my child and you'd be guilty of kidnapping if you leave the state. I demand my right to prove I'm the father."
"You know that's not true. You were there when I miscarried, remember? And no law would ever support you forcing me to prove paternity now. If you want to discuss blood tests after the babies are born, you can contact me through my sisters. Now, let me go.” His manicured yet impossibly strong hand clasped around her bicep, fully encircling it with a crushing grip. “You have no rights over me. That stopped when you left me for your ex. You should've kept her baby and loved it."
"You are coming with me now, or I will have you committed.” Ignoring her again, he started for the door. “I'm sure your father will agree your behavior lately has been dangerous to yourself and the fetus. Come like a good girl, Poppy."
"No.” She reached for her bag and the cellphone she rarely used. “You are acting crazy, Steven, and I'm not going anywhere with you."
He slapped the phone from her hand, the plastic shattering against the tile floor. She stared in disbelief before struggling in earnest. With the same calm he'd slapped her phone away, he smacked her across the face. For all his failings, her father had never once physically hurt her. Tears fell as pain flared along with fear and humiliation. There was anger too, but the composed look in Steven's hard face smothered it with terror.
"Enough.” His warning was cool and shocked her because it was wrong. After the impromptu violence, some kind of reaction should have presented yet he acted as if he'd done nothing out of the ordinary. “We'll leave through the side door, and you'll not fuss or I'll be forced to punish you."
Shocked, she let him drag her from the restroom, her feet shuffling as he pulled. A momentary lull around the bathrooms meant the hall was empty. He would get her to his car, she thought, as she couldn't make herself fight through the numbness surrounding her mind. He would get her to his car and do anything he wanted if she didn't fight. She tried to shake herself from the fog her mind created, recognizing the shock response from working in the emergency room. A person could be fine but if they were shocked and hurt enough, it was hard to break that veil and she despised herself for being so easily pulled.