Page 24 of Our Elliana

ELEVEN: Peace Lilies

ELLIANA: SEPTEMBER

As summer rolls into early autumn, more complications arise. Tristan and Jackson continue to have these battles of will, and while they never come to blows or even—since the souffle incident—raise their voices when I’m around, the tension between them is thick as fuck.

And having three grown men underfoot is more of an adjustment than I’d been prepared for. Sure, it’s less lonely, but it’s also far less private.

Then there’s Noah, or more accurately, his career as a firefighter.

I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that watching him stroll out my door to go risk his life day after day would be so anxiety inducing, but it has me as antsy as all hell. Every time I hear a siren during his shift, my blood pressure doubles, and my mind fills with worst-case scenarios.

What’s happened? Is it a car accident? A fire? What if there’s a blaze that spirals out of control? What if it catches him off guard? He’s fit and trained, but he’s still a relative novice. And even if he does everything right, something could still go wrong.

What if his breathing apparatus fails? What if he winds up trapped under something and unable to get out? What if he gets severely burned? What if his shift comes and goes without him returning to me?

What if? What if? What if?

Of the three of them, I bonded with my virgin from Utah the fastest. It’s ironic in a lot of aspects considering how differently we’ve been brought up, and how opposite our personalities are. That’s not bothering to mention the age difference, either.

But the thought of him being in danger...

It’s worse than anything I could ever have imagined. He might be a virtual skyscraper next to me, but I feel this need to watch over and protect him. Now that he lives with me instead of his family—he’s never even had a place of his own, for fuck’s sake—I’m responsible for him.

Yet it’s not like I can keep him safe while he’s out there blasting water into the middle of the flames. Telling him not to fulfill the duties of his job isn’t part of our contract, and it wouldn’t be right to rob him of that, anyway. Still, I have to limit my downtime and stay busy when he’s gone in order to keep from worrying myself sick.

Who’d have thought having three big strong men around would make me worry more? It sure as shit isn’t me.

I never saw this coming.

Despite his hazardous-ass occupation, of all of them, this handsome blond boy is the one with the most soothing spirit. So much so that I’ve felt tempted to let him sleep in my bed after our sexy times, even though I haven’t allowed any of my contractors that privilege.

While I rest better with endorphins in my system, and I’ve always had what I suspect is an abnormally high sex drive, allowing myself to drift off next to one of these men—even Noah—is still forbidden. That sort of intimacy and absolute trust is meant for love not lust. A true-life boyfriend not a hired sex worker.

Regardless, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate having him give me a neck rub when I come home and he’s off work. I also love it when he provides an exfoliating scrub of my back when I’m in the shower or tub. More than once as a prelude to sex, he’s smoothed lotion all over my feet and then moved the party gradually upward.

I enjoy those activities almost as much as I enjoy having him buried to the hilt inside me.

Even though he’s the tallest and brawniest of the guys, he’s also the gentlest. Which due to that monstrously wide cock of his is definitely a good thing. That’s why after having Tristan’s extended length and Jackson’s rambunctiousness, it feels nice to switch to a bit of tenderness during his turn.

Not that the others are too rough. In fact, the three different techniques suit me right down to the ground. And their choices while naked complement their personalities fully dressed.

Not only does Tristan cook up the best meals I’ve ever eaten, he shares my love of new period dramas with more diverse characters. I never would’ve expected any of these men to be into Bridgerton and willing to discuss it with me afterward, but Tristan totally is.

I adore it.

Jackson keeps impressing me with his musical prowess. Me or one of the others can merely hum a few bars of a tune or even ask him about a sliver of a certain song we can’t remember, and it’s like he can pull the whole melody out of thin air. Not only does he remember it, he can both sing and play it on Zelda, and it’s like having Spotify or Pandora there at my disposal.

Jackson’s the one who campaigns to join me in the bedroom the most often. He’s indefatigable when it comes to having sex multiple times in a twenty-four-hour period, arranging himself—and as a result me—into unusual positions, and having a willingness to explore untried scenarios.

That’s how we started up this habit of him joining me for a quickie on my lunch breaks. I’d been refusing to allow him to take over my nightly choice, going with Tristan or Noah for the entirety of a week to make my point. But I’d been having issues concentrating that day. The epiphany came from out of nowhere.

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