Page 73
Story: Power Switch
Okay, yes, there was a little skirmish inside earlier when T and Trey tried to get me to come outside and relax. We've been here three days, and this is the first time I've allowed myself to enjoy the beautiful tropical island. Who could blame me though? I had nothing to compare it to. This is my first vacation… ever. I'm not one to relax anyway, and with everything else going on, it took them basically ripping the iPad out of my hands and pushing me outside to realize what I was missing.
“Maybe,” I grumble, not wanting to admit that they were right in making me leave the house.
Another screech from Taeler has me leaning up on my elbows to peer down to the beach. The sun glistens off the rolling waves. A beat of panic thumps in my chest until her head pops above the water, her wide smile clear from here.
“My view isn't so bad either.”
Dipping my chin, I give my head a shake while Trey grumbles something in exasperation.
“Thanks for the glasses.” I tap a finger against the steel frames.
He shrugs and goes back to scanning the area, giving me another moment to check him out without him noticing. Damn, he's hot. I love his suits, the way they fit him to perfection each and every day, but the shorts showing off his thick calf muscles and strong thighs are a very close second. I lick my lips and bite down on the lower one as I imagine the rest of the goods hidden beneath his clothes.
“My eyes are up here,” Trey says with a deep chuckle.
“Like you care that I'm checking you out.” To prove a point, I lean forward to get a better view of his tight ass.
He shifts, giving me a better angle.
“You two are ridiculous,” T complains.
“You'd be this way too if it’d been weeks since you got to squeeze that hot ass,” I whine. Falling back, I groan and wiggle against the towel. Weeks. Hell, it feels like years. But with everything going on, all the planning and secret meetings, there hasn't been enough time or energy for the fun stuff.
But now that we're here….
“Never been tempted, so I wouldn't feel your pain,” T says like he ate something sour.
“Sarah says you can't get enough of hers,” I whisper so only us three can hear.
“Have you seen her fine ass?” He whistles low. “Edible.”
“Ew.” I scrunch my nose in disgust.
“Don't knock it until you've tried it,” T says with a wistful tone.
“No thanks.”
“Can we talk about something else?” Trey grumbles, adjusting his hardening dick in the loose shorts. “Not much I can do to hide this.”
“We could always use it,” I offer.
“Fuck,” they both grumble, one more of disgust and the other of pleasure.
“Sweetie, have you had your daily honey and almond milk?”
Now it's my turn to groan.
Pushing up to my elbows, I dip my chin to peer over the rim of the sunglasses at my mom. Yep, I'm the idiot who thought pulling her mom out of the long-term addiction recovery care center for a family Christmas in Hawaii was a brilliant idea. Don't get me wrong. Things are going great. She's clean. As in vegan clean. Okay, not that clean, but it feels that way considering she used to think an RC and a Twinkie constituted a healthy dinner for a nine-year-old.
Now she's the mother I always wanted but never had. But at thirty-eight.
Doting, comforting, hospitable—hell, she even tried to sing me to sleep last night.
Sing. Me. To. Sleep.
“No, Mom.” I sigh, wiggling to stop the slow throb between my thighs that the sight of Trey's hard cock caused. “I'm good though.”
“Oh no, honey, you're too stressed to skip the honey and milk. I'll go make it and be right back. How about a pomegranate paste to chase it with?”
“Maybe,” I grumble, not wanting to admit that they were right in making me leave the house.
Another screech from Taeler has me leaning up on my elbows to peer down to the beach. The sun glistens off the rolling waves. A beat of panic thumps in my chest until her head pops above the water, her wide smile clear from here.
“My view isn't so bad either.”
Dipping my chin, I give my head a shake while Trey grumbles something in exasperation.
“Thanks for the glasses.” I tap a finger against the steel frames.
He shrugs and goes back to scanning the area, giving me another moment to check him out without him noticing. Damn, he's hot. I love his suits, the way they fit him to perfection each and every day, but the shorts showing off his thick calf muscles and strong thighs are a very close second. I lick my lips and bite down on the lower one as I imagine the rest of the goods hidden beneath his clothes.
“My eyes are up here,” Trey says with a deep chuckle.
“Like you care that I'm checking you out.” To prove a point, I lean forward to get a better view of his tight ass.
He shifts, giving me a better angle.
“You two are ridiculous,” T complains.
“You'd be this way too if it’d been weeks since you got to squeeze that hot ass,” I whine. Falling back, I groan and wiggle against the towel. Weeks. Hell, it feels like years. But with everything going on, all the planning and secret meetings, there hasn't been enough time or energy for the fun stuff.
But now that we're here….
“Never been tempted, so I wouldn't feel your pain,” T says like he ate something sour.
“Sarah says you can't get enough of hers,” I whisper so only us three can hear.
“Have you seen her fine ass?” He whistles low. “Edible.”
“Ew.” I scrunch my nose in disgust.
“Don't knock it until you've tried it,” T says with a wistful tone.
“No thanks.”
“Can we talk about something else?” Trey grumbles, adjusting his hardening dick in the loose shorts. “Not much I can do to hide this.”
“We could always use it,” I offer.
“Fuck,” they both grumble, one more of disgust and the other of pleasure.
“Sweetie, have you had your daily honey and almond milk?”
Now it's my turn to groan.
Pushing up to my elbows, I dip my chin to peer over the rim of the sunglasses at my mom. Yep, I'm the idiot who thought pulling her mom out of the long-term addiction recovery care center for a family Christmas in Hawaii was a brilliant idea. Don't get me wrong. Things are going great. She's clean. As in vegan clean. Okay, not that clean, but it feels that way considering she used to think an RC and a Twinkie constituted a healthy dinner for a nine-year-old.
Now she's the mother I always wanted but never had. But at thirty-eight.
Doting, comforting, hospitable—hell, she even tried to sing me to sleep last night.
Sing. Me. To. Sleep.
“No, Mom.” I sigh, wiggling to stop the slow throb between my thighs that the sight of Trey's hard cock caused. “I'm good though.”
“Oh no, honey, you're too stressed to skip the honey and milk. I'll go make it and be right back. How about a pomegranate paste to chase it with?”
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