Page 62 of Our Sadie
Fuck, for all I know, she already has. When my house manager comes back tomorrow, I’ll need to find out about that.
It’s alarming to note the vast shift that has occurred. Typically, Winter and Maxine have been my lifelines, the people who buoy me and keep my ass afloat. And while I still depend on them, the only reason I feel in my right mind at the moment is because of Dom, Jerome, and Zach.
Maybe it’s down to all these chemical reactions.
The endorphins their version of cheering me up provides are enough to keep me from tipping over the ledge of that final cliff. The point of no return. It’s as if they’re emergency personnel who’ve trussed me to one of those helicopter baskets and Life Flighted me to safety.
They’ve been shoring me up minute by minute, keeping me from being swallowed into that endless abyss.
Yet I still feel like I could fall at any time, that the edge of that cliff remains mere inches away.
I’m glad they appreciate their bonuses, but they deserve so much more. No matter what the outcome of this competition is, I plan to double their pay.
They’re worth it.
I hazard a glance at each of them. Zach is still on the corner playing with his phone. Dom is sitting up and stretching those toned and muscular arms of his over his head. While Jerome is grabbing a sip of water from the bottle he keeps next to the bed. He offers it to me, even as I decline.
With the additional mattress in here scrunched up so solidly to mine—Dom even secured the adjoining posts with zip-ties—there’s more than enough room for all of us to sleep side by side. It’s nice to have them here within arm’s reach, and it’s convenient as a location for all the ecstasy they’ve been gifting to me.
I’ve come to not only look forward to these escapades, I rely on them. Which is... not great. Deep down, I know I shouldn’t be using my search for romance as a crutch, but that’s what I might be doing. And I’m too frightened of what may happen if I discontinue any aspect of this scenario to alter it.
That’s not exactly a sign of a rational thought process now, is it?
I’m fretting over this, about what I should or shouldn’t do, when I notice the guys silently communicating, maybe even conspiring, a matching gleam in their eyes. There’s mischief there, as well as a sensuality that heats my blood and sends my fretfulness packing.
“So,” Jerome speaks in his sumptuous baritone. “How would you feel about another repeat?”
“Another repeat?” I feign innocence, all too willing to lose myself in this banter. This is their way of requesting permission and consent from me, and I like how we’ve twisted this into a flirty reenactment.
“You gave us bonuses,” Dom says, brushing the side of his finger along my bottom lip.
“Generous ones,” Jerome concurs, his palm reaching beneath the covers to cup my left breast, the one with the damaged nipple. It’s also the one they’ve caressed and licked despite the scars as well as the one I prefer for them to spend attention on more than the other.
Not sure what that says about me as a sexual creature.
“So, the least we can do is give you something back, lovely.” Zach has focused his molten gaze on mine as he calls me by that specific nickname, a nickname I haven’t told him that I revel in, but I do.
“To keep things even,” Jerome concludes their light and playful sentiment.
They’ve all been closing any distance between me and them during this banter, crawling over to me like predators approaching prey. Good thing I’m so eager to be caught and devoured. The releases they bestow on me allow this escape from my fears, let me flee from the confines of my brain and be mindless with lust-addled elation.
A mindlessness I’m again in critical need of.
So, as I kick my sheets and blankets off, I observe how three erections grow behind the soft fabric of their sleeping bottoms. I notice how their pupils are becoming blown, and the edges of their mouths curving upward.
And again, I embrace my men in turn, losing myself in each.