Widowed a Year, I Masked Up and Took Both of His Brothers novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Not That Room

In the sunroom of her Uptown house Celie takes Tommy, then Vince, then both at once, and a text from Santo greets the dawn.

Tommy carried me up my own porch steps with my legs around his waist.

I did not let go of his mouth the whole way.

Vince came behind us with my keys, narrating.

"Left lock, right lock, the one that sticks. Angel, you really need to oil that."

"Shut up and open it," I said into Tommy's neck.

"Yes, ma'am."

The door swung wide, and Tommy carried me down the long hall of the double shotgun.

We went past the front rooms with the shutters closed, and past the bedroom door.

I felt him slow there.

"Not that room," I said.

Tommy's arms tightened.

"Not that room," he agreed, and he did not ask me why.

The sunroom was at the back of the house, with a daybed under the windows.

Outside, the banana trees stood black against the neighbor's porch light.

Tommy set me down on the edge of it.

Vince turned on one lamp and then, after looking at me, turned it off.

"No," I said. "Leave it on. I want to see you."

He turned it on again and grinned, and both of them started undressing.

Vince did it quickly, dropping his jacket and shirt on the floor.

He was long and lean, with a trumpet player's shoulders gone soft at the edges.

A tattoo of a horn ran down his left arm.

Tommy did it slowly.

He took off the studs and the cufflinks, put them in his pocket, and shrugged the tuxedo jacket from his huge shoulders.

When the shirt came off, I forgot what I was about to say.

He was broad and dark-haired and thick through the chest, and he was scarred.

On his left side, a ridge of old bone ran in three bumps under the skin.

I put my palm flat on it before I thought.

Tommy went still.

"Old," he said.

"These were broken. Three of them."

"A long time ago. It's fine."

I knew what a healed rib fracture felt like under a hand.

I saw broken ribs on every Saturday night shift.

I moved my palm up over his heart instead, and his whole body let go a little.

"Come here," I said.

"Take your dress off first," Vince said. "I've been thinking about that zipper since eight o'clock."

I turned around, and he drew the zipper down my spine with one finger.

He kissed each knob of bone as it showed.

The black dress fell.

Two men stood in my sunroom and looked at me.

"Jesus," Vince said softly.

"Come to bed," I told them.

Tommy lowered me onto the daybed on my back.

He settled his weight between my legs, braced on both arms, huge above me.

He was hard against my stomach, and he stayed still and let me feel it.

"Tell me how you want it."

"Slow," I said.

"Slow. All right."

"And I want you to tell me I'm good."

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression breaking.

"You're good," Tommy said. "You are so good. You're good all the way through."

Nobody had said that to me in seven years, and I had to shut my eyes.

He reached between us, guided himself, and pushed.

I felt every inch of it.

He opened me slowly, and my breath came out of me in pieces, and my nails went into his shoulders.

"Too much?" he asked, very low.

"Don't stop."

"I won't."

He went deeper, and I felt him stop only when he was fully inside, his hips against mine.

We lay there with his forehead against mine, both of us shaking.

"You feel so good it frightens me," Tommy said. "I've wanted this for so long I thought it'd be a sin."

"It is a sin."

"Good."

He drew back and thrust slowly, and my head tipped back, and I made a sound that rattled the glass.

He found a rhythm, deep and unhurried, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and rocked up to meet it.

"Look at you," Tommy said. "You're taking all of me. That's it. That's my good girl."

Heat rolled up my spine.

From the end of the daybed, Vince said, "Tommy. Let me watch her face."

Tommy turned my head to the lamp with one hand.

Vince knelt beside us on the cushions and stroked himself slowly, green eyes dark and fixed on me.

"Beautiful," he said. "Look at her face when he's all the way in. You see that? That's a woman who needed this."

I came the first time on Tommy's cock with my eyes open.

It went through me in slow heavy waves.

I clenched around him and heard him groan, and he held my hips down while it passed.

"Good," Tommy said, ragged. "Feel that. That's all you. That's so good."

"Don't come," I said. "Not yet."

"I won't."

Instead he slid his hands under my knees and folded my legs up over his shoulders.

The angle changed everything.

He went deeper than I thought a body could take, and I shouted.

"There?" Tommy asked, steady, watching my face.

"There. Oh, God, there."

"Then that's where I'll stay."

He stayed.

He gave me long slow strokes that struck the same place every time, and I clawed at the cushions and begged.

"Please, Tommy. Please," I said.

"Say what you want."

"Make me come again."

"Good girl," he said. "Ask me like that."

He reached down and pressed his thumb to my clit, firm and circling, and I broke.

It was bigger than the first, and it left me shaking and wet-eyed and laughing.

Vince groaned beside us.

"That's the most beautiful thing I've ever watched," he said. "And I've seen a lot of sunsets."

Tommy eased my legs down gently and pulled out, and I whimpered at the loss.

"Your turn," Tommy told his brother, and moved aside, breathing hard.

Vince's grin was shaky.

"Turn over, angel. Hands and knees. I want you where I can see."

I rolled over and got up on my hands and knees on the daybed, and the lamp shone on my back.

Vince knelt behind me and ran both his hands, the whole one and the crooked one, slowly down my spine.

"God," he said. "Do you know how long I've wanted to see your back."

"You can see it now."

"I can. Hold still."

He kissed the base of my spine, and my hips pushed up toward his mouth.

Tommy knelt in front of me on the cushions and lifted my chin.

"Look at me while he does it," he said.

I looked.

His dark eyes held mine, and his thumb stroked my lip.

"Good," Tommy said. "Stay with me."

Vince pushed into me in one long smooth slide.

I cried out into the cushion.

Vince was thinner than Tommy but harder.

He angled up inside me, and every stroke dragged over the place his fingers had found on the levee.

"Fuck," I said. "Vince."

"Say it again."

"Vince. Vince," I said.

"Yes. God, yes. You're so tight, sweetheart, you feel so good."

He gripped me harder.

"You're the best thing I've ever had around me."

He talked the whole time, in a voice that kept breaking, and every word was praise.

I loved it.

It fed some starved place in me that I had not known was there.

He gripped my hips and drove into me, and I pushed back to meet him, and the daybed creaked under us.

"Celie," Vince gasped. "Celie, Celie, I can't, I'm going to."

"Again," I said. "Say it again."

I did not care about the rule.

"Celie," he said, wrecked, and slowed to a grinding stop, buried in me, trembling.

He did not come, and I felt him fight it.

"Not yet," Vince panted. "Not yet. I want her to come first."

"Then do it," Tommy said from beside us. His voice was a rasp.

He had been watching, and his hand was moving on his own cock, steady and heavy.

I looked at him over my shoulder.

"Both of you," I said. "I want both of you at once."

Vince laughed helplessly into my back.

"That's what I'm talking about."

Tommy lay down on the daybed on his back.

I climbed over him on shaking knees.

He held my hips and guided me down onto him, and the stretch of it made me cry out.

"Ride me," Tommy said. "Go on. Take what you want."

I began slowly, then faster.

His hands spanned my waist.

His eyes did not leave my face.

Vince moved up beside us, kneeling next to my head with his cock in his fist.

I turned and took him in my mouth.

He swore and put his good hand in my hair.

"Oh, Christ," he said. "Oh, fuck. Look at her, Tommy. Look at that."

"I'm looking."

"Is she good?"

"She's perfect," Tommy said. "She's so perfect I can't stand it."

I moaned around Vince, and the vibration made both of them groan.

I rocked on Tommy, deep and slow, and sucked Vince in the same rhythm.

I had never felt so full, or so wanted.

I had never felt so wholly in charge of what happened to me.

The next orgasm came up from my feet.

I came hard, around Tommy, with Vince's cock in my mouth, and it took the strength out of my arms.

Tommy caught me by the hips and finished it for me, thrusting up into me, and then he stopped, his jaw locked.

"I can't hold it," he said, and his voice broke.

"Come in me," I said, pulling off Vince. "Tommy. Please."

He did, with a low raw shout, his hands clenched on my waist, and I felt it hot and pulsing inside me.

Vince took himself in his fist and finished across my breasts with my name on his lips.

For a long time nobody moved.

We lay in a heap on the narrow daybed, with me in the middle.

Tommy's heart was under my cheek, and Vince's hand moved slowly on my back.

"Well," Vince said at last. "That was a very good first date."

I laughed until I cried a little, and neither of them said anything about the crying.

Tommy wiped my face with his thumb.

"One thing," he said. "We have a rule, Vince and me."

"I thought I was the one who made the rules tonight."

"This one's ours. In front of the family, in front of anyone, we never touch you unless you reach first."

"Rule of the house," Vince agreed, against my shoulder.

"I reached first tonight," I said.

"You did." Tommy's chest moved under my ear. "You did. In front of all of them."

I fell asleep like that.

When I woke, it was gray outside, and I was alone under a quilt with a pillow under my head.

Both brothers were gone from the daybed, but I could hear them in my kitchen, low voices and a coffeepot.

My phone buzzed on the floor.

The screen showed a gossip page.

It had a photo of a woman in a black dress and a gold mask, walking between two men across a ballroom.

Under it, a text from a number that had no name in my phone, because I had never needed to save it.

SUNDAY. ALL OF YOU.

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