Jack scowls deeply as he joins us on the bed.
“You need to ban him,” he says gruffly. “And report his account.”
“Then let me check your privacy settings,” chimes in Bennett. “He might have scraped it from your domain registration.”
As much as I don’t like the fact they’re all ganging up on me… they’re also probably right. GingerWatchman went over the top tonight.
With a sigh, I find his user account and hit the BAN button. It flashes a red message asking me to confirm, so I do hesitantly, then file a report citing privacy concerns. When it’s done, Jack gives me a pat on the head.
“Good girl.”
Why is that really fucking hot? I want to be Jack’s good girl.
After setting aside the computer, Arthur, Bennett, and Jack all lie down on the big bed with me. We curl up together, limbs tangled up with limbs, and I completely forget about brushing my teeth before I pass out on Jack’s shoulder.
Arthur
What happened last night worries me into the next morning while I wait for my wonderful lovers to wake up. But I try not to let it show when Bree opens bleary eyes and looks up into mine. Her face breaks out in a smile that melts my heart into a pathetic puddle, so I lean down to peck her plump lips even though she has a tiny bit of drool on her cheek.
Jack, Bennett and I will have a talk about this GingerWatchman thing later.
Bree hobbles a little as we migrate to the kitchen to make breakfast, and I snort as she takes a seat and winces.
“We sure did a number on you, huh?” I ask as I get right to pulling out a carton of eggs and a package of sausage.
She nods, a little grin teasing her lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever orgasmed that hard in my life.”
Jack looks rather proud of himself as I serve up orange juice, then get to cooking. Chatter picks up at the table, and I’m simply enamored to be here, thinking about what my sperm might be up to right now.
Damn. I falter, though, thinking about the money and the contract. I wish that part were different. I wish Bree was our wife, who lived in our home where we could take care of her while she carries our fawn. Then I could protect her better, too, from weirdos like that.
It’s a lazy Sunday, so we take our time. I pay attention to Bree’s cues, waiting for her to tell us to leave—but she doesn’t. In fact, she invites us to come to the tea shop where she used to work to meet her friend, then offers to go walking around downtown.
It sounds like a date, and I’m fully down for that. I’m also excited to meet one of Bree’s friends, and I hope they approve of us. When we stop by our house on the way, I make sure to put on my best button-up and brush my curly hair.
The shop is adorable, sitting above a boutique with a second-floor porch. When we step through the door, a tiny girl behind the counter frantically waves at us. She abandons her customer to come hug Bree, then gazes in awe at the three of us.
“Wow,” she says. “They’re hot, dude!”
“I know!” Bree pushes her away. “Go finish your shift and then hang with us on the porch.”
“Sure. I’ll bring something out in a few minutes.”
The customers waiting in line grumble as we pass them, and Bree gives a little guilty wave.
We’re enjoying the sunshine when Bree’s friend joins us with a big carafe of iced tea, and hurriedly pours one for each of us as she starts talking.
“Oh my gosh, so glad you guys stopped by,” she says, finding her own seat eagerly. “My break’s only fifteen minutes, but you can stay as long as you want. Michelle doesn’t care if it’s you, Bree.” Her attention turns to me, and a mischievous smile shows off her not-quite-straight teeth. “I’m Tilly. And you must be Mangelli.”
I flash her a winning smile. “Yep, that’s me. But you can really call me Arthur.”
“Got it.” Her eyes keep traveling around the table. “And you are… Bennett?”
Bennett gives her a really cheesy thumbs up.
“And Jack.” Tilly’s gaze lands on Jack. “You’re the mean one.”
Bree gasps. “Tilly!”
