Lost Bird (31 page)

Oscar switched the vibrator off and rolled her on top of him, slowly sliding his cock into her pussy. “Oh, baby,” he gasped, his hands on her ass keeping her from moving. “Stay very, very still.”

She whined as John carefully withdrew the butt plug from her. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll make it feel really good again here in just a minute.” When it was out, he squirted more lube over his condom-sheathed cock and pressed the head of it against her rim. “Here you go, baby.”

It took everything she had not to try to fuck herself back and forth on him, wanting traction against her clit and unable to move because of Oscar holding her still. John took his time, slowly fucking himself in and out a little bit with every thrust, carefully, until she felt his thighs pressing against her ass.

He let out a breath. “Okay, there. Sit up.”

She could barely move. It felt like all her bones had been transformed to the same jelly Dildous was made out of. Oscar pushed and John pulled her upright, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her body against his.

She heard the vibrator click on again, and Oscar pressed it against her clit.

Good?
Fuck that, it felt
fantastic
. She hooked an arm around John’s neck and held on tight, rocking what little she could with John keeping her held firmly in place. The muscles of her ass and cunt clamped down on their cocks, intensifying the pleasure more than she thought possible.

“Oh, baby,” Oscar gasped. “Damn!”

“That’s it,” John murmured in her ear. “You just keep riding us until we’re ready to let you stop coming and start fucking you.”

The world spun away, nothing existing but them and their love and their energy and the pleasure they were giving her. She suspected she’d be sore in the morning, but she didn’t care. She’d remember this moment, this pleasure, and smile with every ache and pain.

And probably ask them to do it again the next night.

Because…
damn
.

She’d long ago gotten used to the normal sweet aches and pains having two eager lovers caused in her. Now it looked like she’d have to get used to a whole new set.

More conditioning…

Everything blended together, time, pleasure, every sensation. Finally, Oscar chuckled. “I think she’s almost worn out.”

“Is that right, baby?” John asked. “Are you almost worn out?”

She couldn’t talk. She wasn’t sure she remembered how at that point. She did manage a nod.

“All right. Then one more.” His hands cupped her breasts, playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers. “One more, and we’ll let you have a little rest before we make you come some more.”

She sobbed as another orgasm rolled through her.
I will never,
ever
, complain I’m horny again.
Not if the men could do this to her. It had reached the delicious tipping point where she hoped it stopped, and she hoped it never stopped, both ends of the spectrum waging war within her clit and nervous system.

Finally, Oscar pulled the vibrator away and switched it off. John gently lowered her on top of him and slowly started fucking her. Every movement he made caused her clit to rub against Oscar’s body, sending more tingles through her, aftershocks rippling through her muscles.

Oscar kissed her tenderly, holding her while John fucked her ass. She tried to meet his thrusts and realized with jelly bones that wasn’t possible. So instead she lay there and enjoyed it.

Not like that was a challenge or anything.

She did manage to reach one hand up and behind her, wiggling her fingers at him. He took the hint and clasped it, holding on as his release grew closer, his grip growing tighter until she heard that sound she loved so much rolling from his lips.

Oscar started moving under her now. “Goddamn, I thought I’d never hold on.” Holding her hips, he thrust up into her. Once more her body gave in, her swollen, sensitive clit unable to resist the sensation.

She squeezed her eyes closed, carried along and unable to do anything but enjoy it. Oscar noticed. “Oh, baby, you just came for us again, didn’t you?”

“Damn right she did,” John said. “I felt it.”

Any worries he might have had about holding out were for naught. He held on long enough to fuck yet one last, smaller, gentler orgasm out of her before finally giving in. He buried his cock deep into her pussy and fell still with a soft moan.

John held himself propped up with his arms and kissed the nape of her neck. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm hmm.”

He chuckled. “Okay.” Carefully, he withdrew and headed to the bathroom. She heard him clean up and he returned a moment later, wiping her down with a warm washcloth he tossed into the bathroom before climbing in next to them.

“You going to stay there all night?” he asked her, humor in his tone.

“Not my fault you broke me in the good way.”

Oscar rolled onto his side, putting her in the middle. She loved that normally they didn’t have to hurry to pull out to dispose of a condom with her now on the pill.

Snuggled tightly between them, she let out a sigh. “How much recovery time do I get?”

John chuckled. “I think it’s more how much time
we
need to recover.”

“Well, recover fast, boys. I want to do that again with the roles reversed.”

“That butt plug is
not
going up my ass,” Oscar said.

She poked him. “I meant
you
in my ass. Although, now that you mention it—”

“Nope,” he quickly said. “My cock, your ass. That’s good.”

She giggled.

Since when the
hell
did she fucking
giggle
?

Since apparently these two men had somehow healed her soul.

They took turns driving from Spokane. They also took their time, stopping at scenic vistas and other points of interest. They spent the night in Missoula.

When Sachi awoke the next morning to the dreary, grey early October Montana morning, she felt only peace as she stood at the hotel room window and stared out at the landscape.

As it should be.

No fear, not even a hint of anxiety. Just the beautiful and somewhat rugged landscape laid out around the town.

Oscar stepped out of bed and walked up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. He nibbled on the side of her neck. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” She smiled and turned in his arms, draping hers over his shoulders. “Very.”

“You’re sure?”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “Very.”

“Hey,” John mumbled from the bed. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

She walked over and jumped onto the bed, bouncing him.

“Hey!”

Leaning in, she kissed him. “Wake up, grumpy. Breakfast awaits.”

“Yeah? Well, sleep would await if you’d let it. This is supposed to be our vacation.”

Despite his initial protestations, they showered, dressed, packed, ate breakfast, and got back on the road less than two hours later. She wanted to reach the town well before dark, wanted to be back on the road again to wherever their instinct took them.

When they reached the town, she had Oscar stop at the same little grocery store where she’d bought flowers a few months earlier. This time, she bought two bundles.

They headed to the cemetery without talking, her peace settling around her like a thick, soft, comfortable cloak. Then she led the way to her mom’s grave and knelt in front of it, placing one of the bundles of flowers there.

“Mom, this is John and Oscar. I…” She swallowed back her tears. “I wish you could have met them. Dad loves them. And Dad’s happy, too. Thank you for guiding us all these years. I miss you and love you so much, but I know life had to move on. The other option…it wasn’t an option for me. It wouldn’t be honoring you to not keep living and to be happy.”

She kissed her fingers and pressed them to the cool granite headstone. Then she stood and reached for the other bundle of flowers that Oscar had carried for her.

Slowly, on trembling legs, she walked across the cemetery, searching, until she finally found the graves.

Michelle Clary had apparently disowned her husband. When she prearranged her son’s funeral arrangements the day before she had him disconnected from life support—the day she committed suicide—she’d arranged for a double headstone and their two graves.

Sachi knew from her father’s talks with the deputies involved in her shooting case a few months earlier that the person who’d loaned Jackson the truck he drove from Montana to Florida had paid for Jackson’s cremation and then scattered the ashes here at the graves of the mother and son.

The friend had also written a heartfelt letter of apology to Sachi and Mandaline for their inadvertent role in the attack, swearing that if they’d realized what he was up to, or had known where he was going, they would have called law enforcement.

She believed them. She had no reason not to, despite her father’s cynical view that they were trying to avoid a civil lawsuit.

That wasn’t something she was interested in pursuing anyway.

Sachi leaned down and tucked the other bundle of flowers against Michelle’s side of the headstone. Then she straightened, hands clasped in front of her, and stared at it for a moment.

Her men stood behind her, silent and supportive, their loving energy washing off them and through her.

“I’m sorry our paths crossed the way they did, Michelle. I know you didn’t blame me or my mom for what happened. The note you left said that much. I hope you’re at peace. I also wanted to tell you that I don’t hold you responsible, either. And while I will never absolve Jacob or Jackson for what they did, I do offer forgiveness. I can’t hold on to my anger and let it ruin my life the way it ruined Jackson’s.”

She took a deep, ragged breath and held her hands out in front of her, palms pressed together in a gesture of respect, and offered a slight bow. “Namaste, Michelle. Brightest blessings. I hope wherever you are, that your soul, and the souls of Jacob and Jackson, are at peace. Aho.”

Across the cemetery, a small flock of cardinals, male and female, took flight.

Sachi closed her eyes.
Thank you, Mom.

With her arms hooked through John’s and Oscar’s they made their way back to the rental car and headed north toward I-90.

“Which way do you want to head, sweetie?” John asked. “East or west?”

She smiled. “East. I want to see Devils Tower.”

“Then east it shall be,” Oscar said from the backseat.

As Sachi settled in the passenger seat, her hand resting on John’s thigh, she glanced over the seat at Oscar.

Over the past couple of months she’d managed to develop a filter so their blue auras, and her own—which she now saw outside of a mirror—weren’t so distracting. She could almost filter them out the way she could other people’s auras.

Oscar smiled at her. “Mom and Dad asked me again about coming out there for Thanksgiving.”

“I think Ruth thinks she’s going to talk us into moving out there,” John said. “She’s been giving me hints.”

Sachi laughed and faced forward again, staring out the windshield at the road ahead of them. “Not a chance in hell of that. Florida is our home.” She was looking forward to spending this Thanksgiving with her father, the first one they’d spent together since she’d left home.

Maybe another Thanksgiving they would fly out, but this year, she wanted to be with her dad. Her men had agreed with her, and Lorie was going to join them all at Mandaline’s house for the first Thanksgiving they’d be hosting there.

She hoped Oscar’s parents’ feelings wouldn’t be hurt, but that was currently the least of Sachi’s concerns. Their friend, Libbie, who ran the bakery, was at the top of her thoughts.

The two hunks Libbie had recently rented an apartment to were meant to be with Libbie. Sachi could see it in their auras every time she was around the three of them, and Mandaline had verified that with observations of her own.

She suspected a jug of her special homemade spiked Samhain cider would be a helpful gift for the three. She’d have enough time when they returned to Florida to make a batch of it. It’d be over two weeks before Samhain.

“Whatcha thinking about so hard?” John asked her.

She smiled. “Oh, just plotting and scheming.”

“Libbie?” Oscar asked.

“Yep.”

“You and Mandaline are bound and determined to shove her at those two guys, aren’t you?” John asked.

“I sense a return of Dildous,” Oscar quipped.

She grinned. “What do
you
think?”

“Oh, boy,” the men said.

As she settled back in her seat, Sachi felt the smile on her face. It felt good.

It felt
right
.

Being
happy
felt right.