Page 81 of The Triple Threat

I shook my head and laughed hollowly. “No, no. Not happening. I won’t be allowed in anyway. It’s strictly qualified people in there, surely.”

“You take care of sick kids. How can it be so different? It’s after hours so there’s no one else around, and like I said to Carter, it’s something you’re used to.”

I started to protest, but Hunter turned me around by my shoulders and pointed me toward the exit.

“Off you go,” he said, his lips whispering against the shell of my ear. “Go and clean up Rodrick and his shit. I believe he may need some clingers removing from his ass fur too.”

“Hunter, no,” I complained trying to turn back to him, but he was too strong.

“Ellie, yes,” he replied, and I knew he was smiling. “Because if you don’t, I might just have to tell your brother and your best friend about that damn crazy plan of yours and as you said, they won’t take it lightly.”

The bastard knew he had me. He knew I wouldn’t risk having a row with my best friend – Carter I couldn’t give two shits about, but Bronte was another matter.

“I hate you, you know that, right?” I jibed.

“Hmm, you may hate me, but you love my dick, so it’s a pay-off I’ll take.”

He then tapped my ass and gently pushed me toward cat shit hell.

With my hand firmly around my dick, I pumped it harder. My eyes were closed, yet the images of Ellie were sharp and bright in my head.

I damn well ached for her, but she was clearly going to take some persuading to even talk about what was happening between us. Honestly, her sass made my piss sour at times, yet I damned well loved it too. No wonder I went to sleep hard and thinking about her and then woke up just as hard and still thinking about her.

As I pulled at my hard-on, I imagined her licking along the V of my abdomen, right next to, but not quite on my dick; it made me pant with anticipation. The idea of slamming into her and roaring her name as I came, made my balls tighten. One more pull alongside a memory of Ellie’s tits and I came, hard and long all over my stomach.

“Shit,” I ground out breathlessly. “Fucking shit.”

She wasn’t even in my bed, yet she still gave me amazing orgasms.

Reaching for a discarded tee-shirt, I wiped the jizz from my belly and flopped back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. The thought running around in my head was how the hell I’d got so caught up on Ellie after years of knowing her. The physical aspect was most definitely a factor in my huge turnaround. I guess you didn’t have sex with a girl in a storeroom and then finger fuck her in a wicker basket without catching some feelings.

Then again, I’d gotten Rayna Demata off with my fingers once and fucked her twice in the woods at Summer camp in eleventh grade, but she didn’t take over my every thought. I vaguely recalled having told her I loved her at the time, but I was sixteen. Sixteen-year-old boys lie, especially when they want to have sex with a girl who has big tits.

“Hunter, son.”

Pop’s voice startled me, and I pulled the sheets up over my dick, just in case he came in.

“Yeah?”

“Breakfast is almost ready.”

I picked up my phone and noticed it was almost five-thirty. “Yeah, I’ll be down in five.”

He didn’t say anything else, but I heard his feet padding along the landing toward the stairs. Doing an ab pull I sat up and dropped my legs to the floor and set about getting dressed. Maybe a hard day’s work would banish Ellie from my head.

As soon as I walked through to the kitchen, I realized what day it was. The fact that I’d forgotten was also a sharp reminder that Ellie had started taking up too much space in my brain.

It was my mom’s birthday and the single, long-stemmed, red rose in the vase on the table was what reminded me. Pop did it every year on her birthday and their anniversary. It was his way of honoring both, rather than go over to the cemetery and put anything on her grave. He kept it clean and tidy, but rarely put flowers there. According to him that piece of ground wasn’t where she was, this house, our home was where her soul lived, so that was where he wanted the memorials of her to be.

“Hey, Pop.”

I walked up to him and pulled him into a hug, holding on for a few extra seconds. He’d been getting better slowly, but that didn’t mean today wasn’t going to hurt him.

“I’m good, son. I’m good.”

He cleared his throat and pulled away to look me directly in the eye and I could see he was. Yes, there was sadness there, but not the bone deep grief I’d seen for years since Mom had passed.

“Where’re the twins?” I asked looking down at the eggs and bacon. The bacon was a little overdone and the eggs were the wrong side of runny. Signs that Pop had cooked.