Page 11 of Treble

Except, it backfired. Victor caught me and it earned me a fist to my face. I still stand by the lube and restraints being intended for me. Why else would she have invited me over?

Once they left, I tracked her back here to his place—the location tags were an excellent purchase. I shouldn’t have watched them fuck, and I certainly shouldn’t continue watching as he takes care of her after, but my curiosity is piqued. I need to know what she’s into when she’s not fucking herself so I can save her from him—even if the research sours my stomach worse than the almond milk latte. From the looks of it, it won’t take much to pry her away from him.

Does she know he’s been stalking her? Why is she with him if she knows he’s been following her?

With a couple of hours to spare before rehearsal, I head home to take a shower and change. Before I leave, I consider an apology dessert. There’s a store-bought grasshopper pie in my fridge I had planned on sharing with Keri. She loves mint chip ice cream, so I figure she should enjoy minty pie too.

It could use a whipped cream topping, and I break out my stand mixer, heavy whipping cream, sugar, and vanilla extract. As the cream thickens in the bowl, an idea strikes me and I can’t help myself.

If I can’t be inside her, I can beinsideher…

At the same rhythm as the mixer, I stroke my cock until I’m moments from coming. I stop the beating of the whipped cream and my dick for a moment and remove the bowl. As I’m about to resume jerking off into the whipped cream. I pause. What if Victor eats it? I can’t help the smirk tilting my lips, and tug onmy cock a few times, coming into the bowl. I place it back on the stand and continue letting it whip for another minute.

With pie in hand, I rush to rehearsal, not bothering to cover up my swollen eye. I could lie to everyone and claim I ran into a door frame or even make up an elaborate story about getting in a fight with someone. Better yet, I could tell the truth and jeopardize Victor’s place in our ensemble. Double bass players are easy to come by. Except he could also admit he found me in Keri’s bed, naked and tied up, waiting for her.

What if he took photos?

No, he’s a lovestruck puppy. He wasn’t thinking of blackmail when he stumbled upon my cock concealed by her edible underwear. His decision to punch me was impulsive. Still, I was out cold for a while and there could be photographic evidence.

It’s in everyone’s best interest for me to stay quiet.

The familiar sounds of instruments tuning fill the space, but it comes to a halt as I take a seat next to Keri. It isn’t as if I could hide my black eye, but it’s mortifying all the same. Silent pity oozes from everyone.

“Hey Keri,” I mumble, and she gasps as she spots my swollen eye. I don’t want her to look at me like this; I want hearts in her eyes. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I, uh, should’ve warned you about my intolerance.”

“You knew Victor brought coffee and croissants for me, not you. As far as I’m concerned, you deserved it—consequences to your actions.”

She’s right; there’s no excuse for what I did.

“All right, everyone.” Our assistant conductor taps his baton three times on the music stand. “Let’s get warmed up.”

We work through a few scales, including A minor, which is my least favorite, and a few tuning exercises. After a few, we begin working through one of the pieces for an upcoming concert. I can practically feel Victor seething from the back of the ensemble and try my hardest to contain my amusement.

When we finish, I tell Keri, “I brought something for you, to apologize.” I pull out the pie from the cooler. “Grasshopper pie. I know how much you love mint ice cream; I figured it was the next best thing.”

She glances behind us to Victor, then back to me. “Oh, thanks. You really didn’t have to.”

I thought she would be more excited about it. She offers a sweet smile as she takes the pie. “Do you have any forks? We could share it. Maybe forget yesterday happened.”

“No, sorry, I didn’t.” I’ve never been so grateful for forgetting utensils in my life. Still, hope fills me at her olive branch. In the corner of my eye, I catch Victor approaching. Not wanting a second punch to my face, I quickly stand, wish her a good rest of her day, then rush out to my car.

Once in the driver’s seat, I check the location tags I planted, only one is active. I wait until it’s on the move, then follow Keri to Victor’s house… hopefully for the last time.

10

VICTOR

Ilost control. I should’ve taken my time, savored the first time inside her. Though, I suppose it doesn’t matter, I have plenty of time to make it up to her. If I have any say in it, Keri isn’t going anywhere. She’s mine.

Fuck Paul and fuck the fucking pie.

Before rehearsal today, Keri and I made a stop at her apartment—she insisted it wasn’t a good idea to arrive together when she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. When we pulled into her apartment complex, I was grateful to see Paul’s car was long gone. She won’t be able to avoid him forever, especially with him securing his seat next to her again. I can’t help the growl festering in my chest at the thought.

But she’s here. With me.

Except the damn pie is in my fridge. I don’t trust it. I can’t prove he’s the one who planted the location tags, but I know in my bones it was him. I do another sweep of her car and mine, finding one more in her cello case. I wouldn’t be surprised if hebaked one into the pie. Then again, he didn’t have time to make it before rehearsal; it’s likely store-bought.

With Keri in the shower, I open the top. Nothing seems amiss—whipped cream topping and the familiar scent of creme de menthe. As much as I’d love to try it for myself, who knows what’s in it. The last thing I need is to be roofied. I toss it in the trash, and hope Keri won’t be upset; she said herself mint wasn’t her favorite.

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