Page 73
Story: Brandishing Beginnings
“So good for us, baby girl,” Nico murmured.
I breathed in his woodsy scent and sighed peacefully. I floated in between consciousness and sleep, only halfway paying attention to my men moving around me. Each knot was untied and each rope slid off my body. They spent time massaging my limbs and soothing my skin, all while whispering sweet praise to me.
I drifted off to sleep, safe in my lover’s arms, as the three of them placed kisses along my body, making me feel more loved than I ever had in my life.
Maya
Lifesettledintoroutineas the summer flew by and my relationship with Jason, Marcos, and Nico developed into a stable and steady foundation. Communication was key, and we had learned we thrived best when the four of us were on the same page.
They had even developed their own little rituals and protocols for how they greeted me, and in return, I learned how they wanted me to address them when Kara wasn’t around. It was funny how easily we fell into a twenty-four-seven dynamic, despite them telling me that I didn’t have to live that way if I didn’t want to.
More than anything, I found that I enjoyed it. It was so simple to address them as Sir, or to kneel in thebedroom waiting for one of them to get out of the shower, or to kiss them good morning after I made a pot of coffee—something I only did on mornings I got off the night-shift. Otherwise, I was still not a morning person and didn’t like to deal with anything more than sitting on their lap while I sipped my coffee.
The routine of it all is what I loved the most. Life was chaotic enough; knowing what to expect from my three lovers was a relief. Especially while we shared the house with my best friend.
Kara living with us was an added challenge, but not all that bad. There was a layer of sneaking around that made things fun, not that we had to hide things from her, but we also didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with public displays—she was Marcos’s sister after all.
Kara didn’t seem to mind though, besides rolling her eyes every once in a while, when the boys were especially sappy, she seemed to be very happy for us—and I would know, I’d asked her a million times.
“This isn’t weird for you?” I asked for probably the tenth time in the last two months.
“I mean, I don’t want to see you guys making out on the couch or nothing,” Kara laughed. “But I’m totally fine with it. You’re good for them.” She shrugged a shoulder. “You’re good for my brother. It’s good to see him happy.”
Kara’s words may have seemed happy, yet despite her smile, I could see something was bothering her. There was still a sadnessclinging to her, that only surfaced when it was just the two of us. “How are you doing?” I asked.
Kara shrugged her shoulder, staring off into the distance. Her eyes were unfocused as she took in the woods surrounding the property. “I’ve been thinking about my father a lot lately.”
Surprised by the admission, I chose my words carefully. “Do you know anything about him?”
“No. I only found out his name because I was cleaning out Mom’s papers recently. Marcos doesn’t like to talk about it; we don’t have the same father.” Kara sighed and ran a hand through her blond hair, the humidity made it stick to the back of her neck. She pulled it up and into a messy bun, tying it off with a hair band that had been around her wrist.
“So what’d you find out?” I asked, dying to know.
“His name is Vincent Carmichael.”
“She gave you his last name at least.”
Kara nodded. “I googled him. He’s some hotshot lawyer in Mourningside.”
I gasped. “So he’s practically local.”
“Yeah.”
“Shit, girl. That’s rough.”
“Yeah.” Kara sighed again. “I have half a mind to go down to his firm as ask him why he didn’t want me, you know?”
I watched her solemnly, watching the melancholy wash over her. “Did you ever ask your mom about him?”
“Yeah, and she never really answered. Just said that he wasn’t a nice man, and I shouldn’t look for hope when there was none.”
I pressed my lips together, biting back a retort. I didn’t want to seem insensitive to a dead woman, but not being open to a child about their birth father was cruel, even if you were trying to protect them. They deserved to know, even if that parent was a shitty human being, it only spurred on hope otherwise. “Maybe your mom was just trying to protect you.”
Kara shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.”
“Does it bother you, finding out he’s a lawyer?”
Kara barked out a laugh that sounded sarcastic but otherwise didn’t respond.
I breathed in his woodsy scent and sighed peacefully. I floated in between consciousness and sleep, only halfway paying attention to my men moving around me. Each knot was untied and each rope slid off my body. They spent time massaging my limbs and soothing my skin, all while whispering sweet praise to me.
I drifted off to sleep, safe in my lover’s arms, as the three of them placed kisses along my body, making me feel more loved than I ever had in my life.
Maya
Lifesettledintoroutineas the summer flew by and my relationship with Jason, Marcos, and Nico developed into a stable and steady foundation. Communication was key, and we had learned we thrived best when the four of us were on the same page.
They had even developed their own little rituals and protocols for how they greeted me, and in return, I learned how they wanted me to address them when Kara wasn’t around. It was funny how easily we fell into a twenty-four-seven dynamic, despite them telling me that I didn’t have to live that way if I didn’t want to.
More than anything, I found that I enjoyed it. It was so simple to address them as Sir, or to kneel in thebedroom waiting for one of them to get out of the shower, or to kiss them good morning after I made a pot of coffee—something I only did on mornings I got off the night-shift. Otherwise, I was still not a morning person and didn’t like to deal with anything more than sitting on their lap while I sipped my coffee.
The routine of it all is what I loved the most. Life was chaotic enough; knowing what to expect from my three lovers was a relief. Especially while we shared the house with my best friend.
Kara living with us was an added challenge, but not all that bad. There was a layer of sneaking around that made things fun, not that we had to hide things from her, but we also didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with public displays—she was Marcos’s sister after all.
Kara didn’t seem to mind though, besides rolling her eyes every once in a while, when the boys were especially sappy, she seemed to be very happy for us—and I would know, I’d asked her a million times.
“This isn’t weird for you?” I asked for probably the tenth time in the last two months.
“I mean, I don’t want to see you guys making out on the couch or nothing,” Kara laughed. “But I’m totally fine with it. You’re good for them.” She shrugged a shoulder. “You’re good for my brother. It’s good to see him happy.”
Kara’s words may have seemed happy, yet despite her smile, I could see something was bothering her. There was still a sadnessclinging to her, that only surfaced when it was just the two of us. “How are you doing?” I asked.
Kara shrugged her shoulder, staring off into the distance. Her eyes were unfocused as she took in the woods surrounding the property. “I’ve been thinking about my father a lot lately.”
Surprised by the admission, I chose my words carefully. “Do you know anything about him?”
“No. I only found out his name because I was cleaning out Mom’s papers recently. Marcos doesn’t like to talk about it; we don’t have the same father.” Kara sighed and ran a hand through her blond hair, the humidity made it stick to the back of her neck. She pulled it up and into a messy bun, tying it off with a hair band that had been around her wrist.
“So what’d you find out?” I asked, dying to know.
“His name is Vincent Carmichael.”
“She gave you his last name at least.”
Kara nodded. “I googled him. He’s some hotshot lawyer in Mourningside.”
I gasped. “So he’s practically local.”
“Yeah.”
“Shit, girl. That’s rough.”
“Yeah.” Kara sighed again. “I have half a mind to go down to his firm as ask him why he didn’t want me, you know?”
I watched her solemnly, watching the melancholy wash over her. “Did you ever ask your mom about him?”
“Yeah, and she never really answered. Just said that he wasn’t a nice man, and I shouldn’t look for hope when there was none.”
I pressed my lips together, biting back a retort. I didn’t want to seem insensitive to a dead woman, but not being open to a child about their birth father was cruel, even if you were trying to protect them. They deserved to know, even if that parent was a shitty human being, it only spurred on hope otherwise. “Maybe your mom was just trying to protect you.”
Kara shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.”
“Does it bother you, finding out he’s a lawyer?”
Kara barked out a laugh that sounded sarcastic but otherwise didn’t respond.
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