Page 143 of Giddy Up, Daddy

I want to prolong the moment forever, but it’s too late for that. Desire courses through my veins, hot like lava. I recognize the signs. My balls draw up, tightening as my releases rushes. “Fuck,” I mumble. “Babygirl. I’m gonna come.”

Nate glances up, his gaze meeting mine. “I’m there too.”

Elle smiles but it's tinged with sadness as she admits, “Me too, Daddies. I want to come so bad.”

I lace the fingers of my right hand with hers, my left hand with Nate’s, adding another physical connection between the three of us.

“Come,” I command as my cock swells inside her, as my balls draw up, my body tenses. I shudder inside her, filling her with my cum. Then and only then do I realize we didn’t use protection this time. I’m too gone to care. She joins me in release, her body shuddering around my cock, her eyes glazed, her breath coming in pants around Nate’s cock. He’s coming too, I can see it in the dilation of his pupils, the way his back has gone rigid, the pull of his mouth, the way his hand squeezes mine. His body shudders and I see Elle’s throat working as she swallows down his cum.

Incredible. I love these two. I’ve never loved anyone more. The magic we make together, the connection, the lack of jealousy between the three of us when we come together, is everything. Everything.

My cock softens, falling from the home between her legs, and the finality of it snaps me back to the present. My chest heaves. My gaze sharpens on the woman beneath me, on my lover’s cock falling from her mouth.

“This can’t be goodbye.” I say the only thought in my brain, leaving them both gawking at me. Their stares feel oppressive.I push to my feet and begin to dress. Their eyes narrow. Nate stands, and comes up beside me, grabbing my hand, pulling me to him. He kisses my lips, pulls back and searches my gaze. Then he looks at Elle.

“Bo’s right,” he tells her. “Whatever it is, we can figure it out. Together.”

She shakes her head, but I’m not ready to take no for an answer. Not until I know the whole reason. Maybe not even then.

Pulling on my shirt to ward off the chill now that arousal isn’t heating my body, I plop down on the blanket. Elle sits up, her eyes worried, her mouth drooping. Tears flowing down her face. She should not look like this after sex. Why is the lovemaking between us so magical and the after so heartbreaking?

“Please tell me,” I whisper, reaching over to wipe her tears. “Please.”

Nate, still in only his boxers, though he’s pulled them up, grabs his dress shirt from the ground and pulls it on, but doesn’t button it. He hands Elle her sweater and jeans.

She pulls them on, opens her mouth, and starts to cry. We both stay silent, waiting for her to speak.

Chapter Twenty

Elle

Moments blur together like fuzzy pictures on a reel inside my head. Bo’s smile the first time we met. Him and Nate on my doorstep, The hay loft. Sadie standing behind me, yelling at me as she forced me to affirm myself in the mirror. The roast I made last night. The first paycheck I earned, even though it was for only a days’ worth of work. Bo and Nate outside my work, in goofy suits, with a horse-drawn carriage. Happy memories that fill me with hope and joy, that make me think I actually can have everything I want, that I can believe in myself, that I am worthy of having dreams, and of getting to see those dreams come true.

But just as quickly the happy images are replaced by awful ones. My ex cheating on me. The tabloids roasting me. My father’s disappointment. My credit card declining because he cut me off. The weight of realizing I could not be with who I wanted to be with without blowing up everything I’d always thought my life would be.

“Please, we can work it out, I promise.” Bo’s strained plea breaks through the montage in my brain, and his mouth turns up in a hopeful smile. I meet his gaze and suck in a breath. Do I dare tell them the truth about who I really am?

Blowing out a breath, I press my hand flat against his, and twine our fingers together. I might as well go for it, because what do I have to lose?

“My name is Eleanor Cordelia Winston,” I tell them.

Bo shrugs. Nate raises his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. “It’s important.” I go on to explain everything. How I was raised, how I messed up, how I’d been used by some jackass as tabloid fodder, and how my father had reacted. How I’d ended up here. That my plan had been to find a good man and settle down, at least long enough to appease my father and obtain my trust.

Miraculously and unexpectedly, they listen without a word, nodding along in understanding and I see no judgement in their eyes. Once or twice I notice them exchange a look I can’t decipher.

“So that’s it,” I finish. “I need my trust because it’s all I have to offer. I’ve never been allowed to aspire to be anything other than a trophy wife. I have a degree, but it’s a useless one. I went to school to get my MRS degree.” I make a face. “I couldn’t even do that right.”

Bo sucks in a breath, but I’m too wrapped up in my feelings to really notice or even care.

“So you see, it’s not you, and there’s nothing you can do to fix it. I was just born into a different world, under the weight of societal expectations. I can’t bring home two men, and I can’t risk losing everything, because I don’t have anything to fall back on.”

Bo looks at Nate and they’re doing it again. Exchanging glances I don’t understand. “Fall back on us.”

I shake my head. They don’t know what they’re saying.

Bo steps close, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me up against him. “Eleanor Cordelia Winston.” He says it with abit of teasing and yet an air of reverence. “Do you know our last names?”

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