Stable Hill Page 15

  His eyes locked with Russ’s as the man started to move. “Better?” he teased.

  Russ nodded, making a sound that was part moan and part sigh, like it was everything his lover wanted. He reached for Russ’s cock, but his hand was batted away before he could get a grip.

  Jeffrey had stretched out beside them, hips near Oscar’s shoulder, his mouth covering Russ’s erection, making Russ crazy.

  “Oh my fucking God!”

  Oscar grinned and rolled his upper body toward Jeffrey to kiss and lick and suck Jeff’s prick. And if Russ’s whimper was any indication, he in turn relished Jeff’s appreciative groan.

  This was incredible. To be this lost in so much sensation, lost in his lovers. To be rooted in the moment by choice, by desire, and by an undeniable need. He spent so much of his time on the needs of his family, he longed for this. He wanted it like he’d wanted nothing else in forever, and he gave himself permission to enjoy every touch, every second of all of it.

  The room was mostly dark except for the moonlight coming in the two small windows, and it filled with their sounds, which grew so constant after a while that he could hardly be sure which were his own.

  “Fuck. Jeff, Oscar, I’m… fuck!” Russ’s hips stuttered, and Oscar let Jeffrey’s cock slip from his lips, so he could see the lovely grimace on Russ’s face.

  Jeffrey followed Oscar’s lead, taking Russ’s dark, straining prick in hand, and knelt to watch.

  Oscar rolled his hips hard, giving Russ more, forcing himself deep over and over until Russ’s constant moaning turned to a shout and ended in a long, breathless sob.

  Jeffrey knelt up and kissed Russ, and Oscar just lay back and admired the view. Russ’s cock was still leaking, abs working as Russ caught his breath, and Jeffrey gentled their lover down, drawing him back to reality, sweet as could be.

  “Fucking beautiful, Russ.”

  Jeffrey agreed quickly, “Right?”

  Russ stroked fingers over Jeffrey’s face, then walked his hands up over Oscar’s torso, letting Oscar’s cock slip free, making him groan.

  “Oh fuck.”

  Russ’s kiss was deep and hard. Jeffrey made the condom disappear, then licked right up his length and bathed the head of his erection. He had to break the kiss to rake in a breath. “Jeffrey!”

  Jeffrey just laughed low in his register, the sound dark. “Don’t get too excited, Oz. I’m about to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget your own name.”

  He gasped and his cock turned to concrete, the sudden ache in his balls traveling right up his spine.

  Russ pulled up, eyes wide. “Oh my God.”

  Jeffrey muscled Russ out of the way. “Roll over. Now.”

  “Jeffrey, I—”

  Jeffrey reached out and twisted one of his nipples, and Oscar whimpered and flipped right over onto his stomach, not even sure what was happening.

  “Fuck. Jeff….” Russ sounded as stunned as he was.

  “Something to jack off to on your own time, Russ.” Two fingers shoved into Oscar, the lube as cold as it was slippery, and he gasped and grunted.

  He was well aware of Russ’s presence, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about Russ watching this. His cheeks grew hot as he blushed hard. This was somewhere between embarrassing and hot. Or so embarrassing it was hot. Or something. God, where was his brain?

  All he could focus on was want. He just wanted Jeffrey. He wanted everything.

  Jeffrey’s fingers stretched and slicked him, swirling with purpose, and moments later he was groaning with the slow burn of Jeffrey’s cock diving in deep. Jeffrey pulled back on his hips, and Oscar struggled to get his knees under him as they pressed together tight, skin to skin, Jeffrey seated balls-deep inside him. “Fuck. Oh fuck.” He couldn’t get his voice above a whisper. He could barely get a breath.

  “I hear you, Oz.” Jeffrey started thrusting slowly, easing back, then driving in deep again, making him grunt. He felt Russ’s fingers thread through his hair, and he tried to catch his lover’s eyes, but every time he lifted his head, Jeffrey would nail him again and he’d lose it.

  “So hot, Oscar.” That was Russ’s voice.

  “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

  He tried to reply, but whatever he’d planned to say was replaced by a long groan. He never thought of himself as beautiful. But then he’d never thought of himself in a triad or wanted so desperately to be fucked before either. Everything about him felt new these days. Alive.

  Russ crawled down the bed to Jeffrey, and Oscar could hear them over his shoulder, kissing and whispering. Someone took hold of his cock—he assumed Russ but he couldn’t be sure—and it set him off. He whimpered and begged, and Jeffrey sawed into him, trying to cut him right in two.

  Every thrust sent his prick through a tight fist, and Russ would stroke a thumb across the head of his erection or tunnel through his slit. He knew what he had to look like, ass in the air, face in the mattress, fists digging into the sheets for leverage as he let himself be used, but he didn’t care. He trusted them. And he wanted this so fucking bad.

  “Jeff! Gonna… oh God.” He felt like he was going to explode.

  “That’s it, baby. So perfect.” Jeffrey was gulping in air behind him, and Oscar knew his lover was close too. Russ was peppering his back and shoulders with kisses and the grip on his cock never let up.

  Fuck, he loved and dreaded this moment—wanting release so badly, needing it so hard, his balls so ready to give it all up—a moment there was no possible way to hold on to. Even as part of him was thinking No, no, not yet, the better, and louder, part of him was screaming Oh, fuck yes.

  And that was it. He shot hard, in shuddering waves, panting with the intensity.

  “Yeah.” Russ stroked him right through his climax, sending new shivers of pleasure through him.

  “Fuck!” Jeffrey grunted and slammed into him a handful of times, then bent over his back and hugged strong arms around his chest. Buried to the balls, his lover came hard, grunting and panting in his ear, cock jerking and pulsing deep inside him.

  “So hot.” Russ’s whisper barely registered, but it was enough. Enough to begin to pull him back from the hormone haze in which he was drowning. He arched under Jeffrey and as his lover left him he was able to stretch out and take Jeffrey’s full weight, deliciously warm as the man still held on tight.

  “Fuck, Oscar.”

  Russ stretched out alongside them, pillowing his head on one of Oscar’s arms and moving in close. They didn’t share many words after that, just touches and kisses. Eventually Jeffrey slid to his other side and the room went quiet and still as they all drifted into dreams.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  JEFFREY SAT at his desk, staring at his keyboard and frowning. In all his time in real estate, he’d never had so much trouble selling anything. Stable Hill was a lovely farm, in decent shape and sat on a nice-size property. Old, sure. Dated, definitely. But it wasn’t in bad shape. It just wasn’t a McMansion.

  To be fair, he had an interested buyer. But it wasn’t one Oscar was going to like. He had that developer, FHI, the same one that had been knocking at his door since Steph dropped their email on his desk. They hadn’t given up; they had both money and patience. And it seemed like they were confident about how this was going to play out.

  But he’d made Oscar a promise—no developers. Oscar wanted to sell to a horse family or at least a farmer. He could probably get Oscar to settle for a vanity farmer who just wanted pretty fences and property if he had to, but that kind of buyer was rare, and they always wanted the big house. “Charming” and “vintage” weren’t words those people cared much for.

  So that left him with… what? Nothing. Still. After more than a month.

  Despite several attempts on his part, he and Oscar never finished their conversation about the house. Oscar just didn’t want to hear it. But it was going to stay a sticking point, and… well, Oscar was going to ask questions soon, and he didn’t have answers his lover was going
to like.

  The phone rang, and he picked it up absently. “Stokes.”

  “Mr. Stokes, it’s Mr. Fraden from FHI on the line. He says he’s been expecting a call from you?”

  “Shit. Yes.” Speak of the devil. He’d said he’d talk to Oscar and call back, but since he never did talk to Oscar…. “Put him through, thanks.”

  The line clicked, and he swallowed and then answered, “Jeffrey Stokes. Can I help you?”

  “Yes, hello, Mr. Stokes. This is Andy Fraden of First Home Incorporated.”

  “Hello, Mr. Fraden. Yes, I remember.” Jesus, how could he forget?

  “Mr. Stokes, we are still looking to schedule a tour of your Lancaster County property. Stable Hill Farm it’s called? We’d like to bring our surveyors out and make a proper offer, but we’ve been waiting for your call.”

  “Yes, I apologize about that. My client has been difficult to reach.” And somewhat impossible to get through to.

  “Well, while you’re waiting, is there any harm in our just taking a look?”

  “Oh. Well….”

  “That way when he calls, you’ll have a firm offer for him from us to put on the table, hmm? It would benefit us both, I think.”

  The guy did have a point. And if not for the fact that he and Oscar were lovers, he’d have made this very arrangement ages ago. “Yes. You’re right, it would. How’s Thursday?”

  By the time they hung up the phone, they’d arranged an early-morning meeting on Thursday up at Stable Hill. He was going to have to tell Oscar. And Russ. And neither of them was going to be happy about it.

  He was going to have to come up with something big to get past this one. Maybe… hm. Maybe he’d let Oscar fuck him.

  Ha. Who was he kidding? He’d bring them flowers.

  THERE WAS something about Wednesdays. Oscar never figured out what it was exactly in all his years of parenting, but Wednesdays were his toughest day at work, and the house was always an emotional disaster. If someone was going to have a bad day, bring home a bad grade, or end up in the ER, it was always on a damn Wednesday.

  So Oscar arrived home from work ready for anything, but was really hoping for the all-clear as he hadn’t gotten any irritated texts or panicked phone calls before he left work.

  He should have known better.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he asked, sensing the tension as soon as he walked in the door, barely ducking a flying stuffed animal. If he’d known he was going to need a suit of armor, he might have stopped for a bottle of whiskey on the way home.

  “Riley stole my lip gloss!”

  “I did not! This one is mine!”

  “Zoe—” He barely got his daughter’s name out of his mouth.

  “She’s a liar! I bought that with Grandma Rose last weekend!”

  “Riley!”

  “No, this is the one that Sherri gave me at her birthday party!”

  “Girls!” he shouted, and that stopped them both, leaving them wide-eyed. “That’s enough.” He held out his hand for the lip gloss, which Riley placed on his palm without argument. “Where’s your grandmother?”

  “She’s upstairs with Sophie.”

  “Sophie was crying.”

  Oh boy. “I don’t want to hear another peep out of you two. You hear me? Enough arguing. Find something else to do. We’ll get dinner started in a bit.”

  He put the lip gloss in his pocket, and the girls slunk off to the living room.

  Oscar hung up his coat and took a deep breath.

  Okay, then.

  Now. What was going on with Soph? He dumped his coat on a chair and headed upstairs to find out. He rounded the banister and was surprised at how quiet it was. It looked like Emily wasn’t home yet. Her door was wide-open, and he didn’t recall seeing Brian’s car in the driveway. He knocked lightly on Sophie’s door and stuck his head in, and Rose looked up at him from where she sat on Sophie’s bed, his daughter asleep in her arms.

  She gave him a nod and carefully extracted herself, setting Sophie in the pillows and covering her with an afghan, then shut the door as she left the room. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “I handled the twins. They were—”

  “I know, but what could I do?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I know. Is she okay? What’s going on? Did something happen at school?”

  “I think so. She wouldn’t tell me. She’s so… quiet right now. This whole school year. I’m worried about her, Oscar.”

  He nodded and hugged Rose. Of the four girls, Sophie had always been the quietest, usually the easiest, and yet the hardest to get a handle on. She was shy, certainly introverted, but so kind and thoughtful. It had been a tough year for her, and he really didn’t know why. He assumed tenth grade just sucked. High school had sucked for him in general; he remembered those years being awful.

  “Well, let’s let her rest. Maybe if she doesn’t wake up feeling better, she can skip school tomorrow.”

  “I’d be happy to have her home with me.”

  “Yeah. Thank you, Rose.”

  “Anything for our girls, Oscar. You know that. Anything at all.”

  “Oh.” His phone vibrated in his back pocket, and he pulled it out. “Sorry, Rose. I need to grab this.”

  “I’ll start dinner, sweetheart. Before the twins eat each other.” She went downstairs, and he headed into his bedroom.

  “Hey, you.” It was Jeffrey, a welcome surprise.

  “Hello, Oz.”

  “God, what a day. It’s nice to hear from you. What’s up?”

  “Well, I wanted to talk with you about the farm, but that’s just business. Are you okay? Bad day?”

  He sat down on the end of his bed, smiling at Jeffrey’s concern. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I got home to a chaotic house is all, and something is up with Sophie.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  “Well, not physically as far Rose could tell, but she cried herself to sleep. Something must have happened at school, but Rose said Sophie wouldn’t talk about it. She just cried and wore herself out.”

  “Poor kid. She’s a quiet one too.”

  “She is. I’m a little concerned, you know?”

  “Sure. Of course. I mean, it could be anything or nothing at that age, right.”

  “Fifteen is a nightmare. Did you like tenth grade?” He chuckled softly. “I just hope it’s drama and not real. And I won’t know now until she wakes up, maybe not even then.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s frustrating, I guess. I can’t pretend to know what parenting is like, but I’ve been around Sophie enough to know she’s not a big talker.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “I’ll know more soon. I’m just anxious. This is the hard part of parenting. Watching your kids go through stuff, knowing when to let them deal and when to step in.”

  “Hey, hang in there. She’s home and she’s safe, right?”

  “Yeah. Yes. You’re right. That’s the important part.”

  There was a quiet moment, and then he pulled himself together. “So you wanted to talk about the farm?”

  “I… uh. Hey. It’s not urgent. We can chat about it another time.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s nothing you need to worry about yet. We’ll talk soon. Catch up on Saturday?”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Can we plan a night next week?”

  “I would love that, but… text?”

  “Yes. Right. I will.” Right. Make plans in the group text. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know. I forgot with Russ the other day. We’ll get used to it. Let’s just do it right.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll text.”

  “Let us know about Sophie too?”

  “Oh. Yes, sure. I’ll let you know when I know something more. Thanks, Jeffrey. I really…. It means a lot that you care.”

  “I care about you. Of course I care about your family too.”

  He nodded, still smiling. “I’m really glad you called.”

&nb
sp; “Me too. You get some rest and give Soph a hug for me.”

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  “Night, Oz… I… good night.”

  “Yeah. Night.” Me too.

  They’d get there. They just needed a little more time.

  RUSS CALLED Miles at 2:00 a.m. for help.

  His first worry had been fire because he’d been through that before, and he’d flown out of bed as soon as he’d heard all the noise, running outside shirtless and in his pajama pants like an idiot to find half the barn in an uproar. At least he’d grabbed a jacket and stomped into his boots on the way out the door.

  Thankfully it wasn’t anything as urgent as a fire, and there was no sign of anyone having broken in, so Russ had to assume it was a raccoon or a fox or something causing trouble. That was better, though critters came with their own issues, and they still had a dozen-plus horses to check on and soothe.

  Between the two of them, they’d managed to calm everyone down, but they hadn’t found their visitor. No one seemed to have any bites or scratches either.

  “Thanks for coming out, Miles. Sorry to wake you, but I wasn’t sure what I was dealing with.”

  “No problem. It’s my job, man. Any idea how the critter got in?” Miles asked, pouring himself a coffee.

  “I don’t know. How do they ever? For all I know, he might have already been in when I locked up for the night.”

  “And we don’t know if he ran out yet, huh?”

  “Nope.” Dammit.

  “Well, why don’t you go put some jeans on, and I’ll have a—”

  A godawful screeching sound came down the aisle, and he looked up, knowing exactly who it was. “Shit. Angel.” He took off at a run, Miles right on his heels. The pair of them arrived just in time to duck a raccoon launching itself over the stall door.

  “Hey!” Miles shouted and took off after the animal to chase it out of the barn.

  “I need to know if it’s sick!”

  “On it!”