It’s Dom and me sucking Nick’s stiff cock in pumps of three to see whose mouth he cums in. Dom wins. But I get to swallow the hot jizz when he tells me to open my mouth and he spits it in.
The entire morning is perfect. And it leads to a cozy afternoon with me cuddled in Nick’s arms while we play a dangerous game of cards with no directions or rules and still, somehow, I keep losing.
But Nick’s idea of punishment is to rub my clit and I’m fine with it.
“That’s another loss, baby.” Dom clicks his tongue, and I have to laugh because I don’t even know what game we’re playing.
But he’s crawling across the carpet and Nick is opening my legs.
None of us are fully dressed, but I have Dom’s T-shirt on and the hem is yanked up over my breasts.
“No cumming,” Nick threatens. “That’s the punishment.”
I’m already bucking under the tongue Dom pulls through my folds.
“That’s... that’s not fair…”
Five fingers close around my throat, and my head is forced back. My lips are caught in Nick’s.
The front door flies open.
Not gently, but with the vengeful crash of a tornado. It ricochets off the back wall and nearly claps shut straight in my mother’s thunderous face.
Nick yanks my top down, moving faster than my brain can process.
“Isla!”
I scramble to my feet. Heart a frantic mess in my chest.
“Mom, I…”
She stares at me like I single handedly betrayed her. Like she caught me red-handed robbing her. She’s so frozen, Walker has to nudge her to move out of his way so he can haul the trays in.
“What’s the hold up?” he mutters. “I’m old. My arms are weak.”
Nick hurries to take the foil pans from him.
“You’re early,” he states, taking the food to the kitchen.
Walker grunts, already shuffling in the direction of the sofa. “Macie had us up all night packing the car and then up at the crack of dawn to get here. You’d think we were on the run the way she was barking orders.”
On the porch, the thump and scrape of Jacob’s crutch breaks the awkward tension.
“Why are we standing in the doorway,” he grumbles. “That drive was murder on my leg.”
Mom remains frozen, backed against the door as Walker and Jacob trudge in, grumbling about the drive.
“Isla, come help me with the food.”
I would rather mash my hands in a meat grinder, but I know refusing would only make it worse.
“I’ll help.” Dom steps in front of me.
Mom’s eyes only narrow to slits. “I’d rather—”
“You get me,” Dom insists, already across the room. “Show me what you need.”
While grateful, my stomach tightens at the misery his meddling will cause. Facing Mom full on, accepting my punishment quietly is always the best way to handle her. Letting Dom take my place is going to have her seething.
