Page 147 of Seeking Two Lovers

“Yes. Fuck!” He jolted back toward me, sinking my finger in to the first knuckle. His ass spasmed around me, sounds of Lily choking on his cum jacking lust through my balls. “Grey…fucking hell.”

My heart soared with him, and I knew one day I would be able to sink myself fully into his body while losing myself in his gaze.

Blaine went lax, and Lily kissed her way up his shivering belly and over his pecs. “You’re so yummy.” She sighed and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his slack mouth. “And you.” She lifted an eyebrow my way, her lips curled in a smirk. “Naughty, filthy man.”

I narrowed my gaze at her but couldn’t help my grin. “You love it.”

“I love you,” she corrected, draping her small frame over Blaine’s front, her soft hands reaching around to cradle my ass.

A spent Blaine in my arms, a gorgeous girl all up in our space…

Life didn’t get much better than that.

44

LILY

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

I clasped Blaine’s hand and stepped outside the courthouse into the biting March wind. Fucking New England and its cold as fuck spring.

But I didn’t scowl at the weather I couldn’t wait to escape for the California sunshine.

A grin stretched over my face—same as Blaine’s, same as Grey who stood on his other side with his hand on our boy’s lower back.

Abraham Quell had been found guilty on all the charges brought against him without Blaine even needing to testify. Sarah had sat tall and proud on the witness stand as had others who’d been emerged from beneath the cult leader’s teachings.

Theft.

Rape.

Murder—of his first wife and Blaine and Sarah’s parents as expected.

The fucker had gotten the maximum sentence and would rot behind bars until he breathed his last.

While the three of us would have preferred he be skinned alive, his genitals cut off, and his tongue ripped from his mouth, we took solace in the fact he would never hurt another innocent ever again.

Sarah exited the building behind us, tucked tightly against her fiancé’s side.

A sea of press stood in wait at the bottom of the steps, already hollering out their questions, but Higgins and a couple of his friends from a protection agency saw us safely to Grey’s Dad’s SUV and Franklin and Sarah to his grandparent’s.

Mr. Scott drove, and Grey and I sandwiched Blaine between us in the back seat. Two sets of hands clasped tight atop his thighs.

Silence settled as we pulled away from the fiasco, and a collective release seemed to fill the car’s interior.

“It’s over,” Blaine whispered. “Truly over.” He tipped his head back, a smile on his lips.

He’d been seeing a therapist for seven-plus months, and the results amazed us all.

Nightmares no longer visited him when he lay sleeping in our bed.

Rarely did darkness haunt his eyes.

Talk and news about cults and child sexual abuse didn’t cause his stomach contents to erupt over the kitchen floor.

He worked hard for the progress he’d managed down the path toward healing, and Grey and I had held his hand every step of the way.

We would continue to do so until our hearts stopped beating.

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