Page 45 of What's Left of Us

“There you are,” Vinny says, and I don’t know if he’s speaking to me or Sterling. Then a second set of hands press to my hips, one over Sterling’s, and I’m bouncing faster and faster on his face. “If you can’t handle her, I’m always happy to help.”

Sterling takes the challenge, and adds another finger to my pussy. At this point I don’t know if he wants to make me cum or see how many fingers he can fit inside me, but either option is good if it makes me cum harder. Vinny’s played this game before too, and I love being tested.

The second set of hands disappears from my hips, and then another finger is toying with my clit. I buck against them at the feeling, eyes widening as I stare down at Sterling’s thighs and feel their fingers playing with me.

“She’s so tight,” Vinny encourages, and Sterling manages to nod. It makes his tongue trace over my lips again and I shudder. “Let’s do this part together.”

Vinny slides a finger inside me, and I know it’s his because the angle is different. I don’t care if I’m supposed to hold off or not; I can’t. My pussy clenches around both of them and my eyes roll, feeling the orgasm wash over me.

Sterling wraps his arm around my waist, holding me in place as he devours me, His tongue teases me as I ride out thehigh, and I moan when I feel his cock tense then explode across the back of my tongue. Like Vinny I swallow him, not because he asked but because I want to.

I pop off of Sterling’s cock first, thoroughly exhausted again, and he’s still feasting on me. Slowly the fingers leave my body, first Vinny’s then each of Sterling’s until it’s just his tongue, and he kisses my pussy lips before he finally separates from me.

When he’s no longer keeping me there, I roll to my side and fall back on the mattress. I could use a shower, but I need a minute to catch my breath and be in the moment. I want to stay here, relishing the two men still in my life instead of opening my eyes back into reality.

It’s almost perfect, the three of us here. The longer I think about it, the more it hurts my heart. This might be as close as I can ever get to perfection again.

Vinny helps roll me on my back, and I still refuse to open my eyes. I know it’s Vinny, not just because of the ring I can feel on his finger, but also because this is how he treats me anytime after sex. He takes care of me, cleans and comforts me if our session is rough, and basically showers me in love and affection after using me. It’s the juxtaposition of him that I love.

“Don’t even think about it,” Vinny says, and I pop one eye open before rolling on my side again. I’m cleaner at least and this time I’m not sore. At the end of the bed Sterling’s pulled his pants back on, and looks close to throwing on his shirt. Vinny’s pulled on a pair of sweats, and I’m pretty sure that’s all he’s wearing. “You’re not leaving.”

Sterling looks between us. “I don’t want to intrude-”

“You aren’t intruding,” I say with a frown. “No one asked you to go.”

“Exactly,” Vinny agrees, eyeing him. “And we just worked up an appetite. Come on, stay for dinner.”

Now Sterling looksreallyuncomfortable. “I can’t-”

“Tell the team you’re working on the case” Vinny argues, raising a brow. “Stay. Eat. Quit running away each time like we’re kicking you out. Have you ever had homemade pasta before? Trust me, it’s better than the store bought crap.”

He peers between us. “You really don’t mind if I stay?”

I snort before rolling on my back again, letting my eyes close. I’ll let these two talk it out after this if he isn’t going to listen. “Sterling, you belong with us. Vinny feeds the people he loves. You better get used to it.”

Chapter 13

Vinny left me in bed with Jo this morning, and it rattled my world. I can’t say I’ve had a lot of women that I’ve brought home, it’s always more casual than that. And no one is around long enough to wake up with them in the morning. I either get called in and ruin the night, or we part ways after sex.

Waking up with Jo cuddled into me, Vinny holding her from the other side, felt too good. Too right. I passed out again, content with the moment, and when I woke up a little while later Vinny was gone and Jo was snoring. She rolled away from me without someone on her other side, but I didn’t mind so much.

Staying for dinner became something for more. We ate, then turned on the TV to watch random shows, and Jo cried. Nothing seemed to set her off, she just cried. Vinny hugged her through most of it, but at one point she laid down between the two of us and we stayed that way for a while. It was nice. Comforting, even.

I should’ve left once they headed to bed. But Jo looked at me with those sad eyes and took my hand, and I couldn’t say no. I was just supposed to spend a few more minutes with them. Talk. Live in the moment. All that crap.

But I fell asleep, sometime after Jo and before Vinny. Even when there was an opportunity to slip out when both of them were asleep, I didn’t. I stayed until I felt I couldn’t anymore.

I threw my clothes back on and basically ran out of there. Spending the night shouldn’t feel foreign after all the things we’ve done together, but it made me feel too close. I’m already more involved with these two than I should ever be with people involved in an ongoing case, but I’m not backing out now. Whatever dynamic we have, I’m enjoying it. When they decide to go back to Colorado, I’ll return to Quantico. We haven’t talked about it, but how could our next steps be anything else?

I have far too much time to think it over on the drive to see Mom and Dad the following day. Atlanta is about four hours away, and during the middle of the week traffic isn’t atrocious until I hit the suburbs. After that it’s just following the path I know by heart, letting the gears in my head spin.

Everyone is supposed to be out of the house today. Gabe, Tyler and Jensen. I told them I don’t care what they do, but they were taking the day off and leaving the house until this evening. Finley is supposed to have the time off too, so I’m hoping no one calls her.

It’s strange, doing something not entirely related to the case. The further I get from Citrus Grove the less stressed I feel. It’s a toxic place; I definitely won’t miss the town when we return to Quantico.

Despite living in the suburbs of Atlanta, in what I consider one of the most congested traffic abominations north of Florida, my parents seem happy here. It’s close enough for Dad’s treatments but far enough that my parents still feel like they have independence and aren’t tethered to the hospital.

Pulling up the gravel drive, I pause long enough at the mailbox to take out the bundle. It feels like a lot of mail, and I glance at it in the passenger seat as I park behind Mom’s sedan.

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