The Triplets Mate Zoe (6 page)

“Thank you all. You gave me the orgasm you promised. It—they—were better than any before them.”

“On Saturday, after Maia’s mating ceremony, will you come here and play in the dungeon with us? We can guarantee you much better orgasms if you let us demonstrate some of the equipment on you first.”

“Yes.”

Zoe blinked at her own answer. Her brain hadn’t been involved in that decision at all. It must have been her hormones speaking. But she would like to try out the spanking bench and the St Andrew’s Cross and some of the other things

They all kissed her, and then Vallen lifted her into his arms. “Time for a shower.”

* * * *

Vallen held her close to his body, listening to her heart beat against his flesh. This was how it should be forever more. Their hearts beating as one, as a mated foursome, their woman and them. He knew it was much too soon to start making those kinds of suggestions though. Her cunt would be sore from her first time at sex. But hopefully, by Saturday, it’d be well and truly healed and she’d be hungry to experience them again.

He couldn’t wait to teach her some new tricks. Having her in the dungeon with them all would be amazing. And then they’d fuck her and introduce her to ménage sex. Hell yes.

Diego turned the shower on while Monty put a tube of soothing gel on the sink to use later. Vallen didn’t want to put Zoe down, but she was wiggling, indicating she was ready to stand on her own two feet. Unfortunately. He’d have been happy to hold her for much longer.

The shower was plenty big enough for four of them. It was a stand-alone one, not situated over a tub, with glass walls and a glass door, intended to be used by several people at once—the Dom and his sub or ménages.

Vallen kneeled at her feet and rubbed shower gel into her feet, massaging each foot and ankle before reaching up to her calves. He looked up, and Monty was standing behind her, rubbing shampoo into her hair, massaging her scalp. Diego had her hand and was sucking the soft skin of her inner wrist. Zoe’s eyes were closed, her body relaxed, with a smile on her face. Excellent. Maybe some more progress could be made today after all.

He washed behind her knees, and still without opening her eyes, she widened her stance. Diego filled his palm with shower gel and continued washing her arm while Monty rinsed the shampoo from her hair. Vallen kept a focus on the progress of the others as he worked his way up to Zoe’s inner thighs. Monty nodded to him and held Zoe’s head against his shoulder, kissing her face as Diego massaged her breasts.

Vallen rubbed shower gel into her mound, letting the bubbles foam and froth over her pussy before he massaged her clit. It was still extended and hard, telling him just as clearly as her actions that she was enjoying herself. He slid two fingers inside her pussy and reached for her magic spot, twisting them until she sighed happily and he recognized the patch of slightly rougher skin.

Vallen fucked her gently but purposefully with his fingers as his brothers made love to her mouth and her breasts, and he was rewarded with a flood of cream.

He stepped out of the shower and grabbed the soothing gel, rinsing his hand before squeezing large dollops on it and rubbing her channel walls with his fingers, not wanting her to be too sore after she got home.

Meanwhile his brothers rinsed her skin, cleansing and kissing her.

Damn, he was going to miss her so much until Saturday night. But they really weren’t needed all the time at the church now that both sisters were back.

* * * *

Diego lay awake for hours, memorizing every moment of the amazing time they’d spent with Zoe. He was overwhelmed at the gift of being given her virginity. It’d never occurred to him that their mate might be an innocent. That just didn’t happen these days. Hell, if he believed half the stuff he saw on TV, there likely weren’t too many eighteen-year-old virgins left, never mind one in her thirties. But he supposed he could see her problem with a preacher as her dad. That would scare away a lot of boys. It wouldn’t keep him away. John-Paul was a good man helping needy people. He didn’t thrust his beliefs down anyone’s throat, although there was always a brief blessing of the food before they ate. But that was only polite. People donated the meal. It was only good manners to say thank you for it.

It only seemed like minutes later when his cell phone rang. Diego picked it up, glad he’d put it on his nightstand and not left it in the pocket of his jeans as frequently happened.

Then he sat up fast and swiped the phone open. “Yes, sir.”

“My office. Ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” But the Alpha had already ended the call.

Diego scrambled out of bed and over to the closet, opening drawers and pulling out clean underwear and socks then dragging his jeans on. He stared at his boots and his shoes, not knowing which to choose, and ended up putting his boots on. He was running out of time here and hadn’t combed his hair or cleaned his teeth yet.

He ran down the stairs, arriving at the Alpha’s office with about ten seconds to spare, only to see both his brothers inside already.

“Shut the door, Diego.”

He did so and remained standing until he was waved to a straight-backed chair.

“There’s a new gang in town, recruiting stupid boys from the high school by having them commit senseless robberies and video tape the burglaries to prove their manhood.”

“The café?” asked Diego.

“Exactly.”

“The boys think they’re safe because they don’t steal anything of great value. They just make a hell of a mess. But that’s where they’re wrong. The insurance companies don’t find this amusing at all. The police have a reasonable idea of one of the ringleaders but no evidence, which is where we’ve been asked to help.”

“Asked to help.” That translates as burgle someone’s house to get it.
Sure enough, the Alpha told them what the police were reasonably sure of, but had no way to prove their suspicions.

“We need hard evidence. A cell phone with a video of one of the crimes. Maybe the kids have uploaded it to
YouTube
or
Facebook
. Find it and copy it and make sure it’s in a format the police can use to get a warrant and use the evidence in court.”

“Yes, sir. When do you want us to start our investigation?” asked Vallen.

“There’s no investigation. I have two homes for you to visit today. This morning is a special sporting event at the high school. These boys obviously don’t bother to attend all their classes, but my informant is certain they’ll be at the baseball game. It runs from nine to noon, so that’s how long you have to thoroughly investigate their two homes.”

Burgle two homes inside three hours with no preparation? Riiiight.

“These are the addresses. You’d better get moving. It’s after eight already.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Diego followed his brothers outside, and his belly rumbled with hunger. “Let’s discuss it over breakfast.”

“I’ve already eaten,” said Vallen.

“I haven’t, and a second coffee won’t hurt you,” said Diego.

“Coffee sounds good,” agreed Monty.

There was a small café on the first floor. It didn’t make a huge range of food, and it didn’t specialize in breakfast, but right now, Diego didn’t care. He needed to eat fast, and they had to plan how they’d retrieve their evidence without getting themselves arrested.

He ordered a burger and fries, plus three coffees, and then sat down.

“What are we looking for exactly?” he asked.

“Evidence,” said Vallen.

“Very funny. We can’t sit there all day looking through their computers hoping they’ve helpfully labeled a video as, ‘Me smashing up George’s Café,’ can we?”

“Probably not. The lack of time is going to be the killer,” agreed Monty.

Diego’s breakfast arrived, and he started eating, not even bothering to complain when both his brothers stole some of his fries. However, within about fifteen minutes, they’d hammered out a plan, drunk their coffee, and he was almost finished with his burger.

“
Google Maps
has these kids living only a block and a half away from each other. Likely they’ve known each other all their lives,” said Vallen.

“I think we should split up. Realistically we won’t get inside until nine fifteen or so, and we need to be out by eleven thirty in case the game finishes early or is dead boring and they decide to leave early. That means it’s going to be impossible to do two properly. The only logical solution is to split up and do them both at the same time,” said Monty.

“No way. That means one of us won’t have someone to watch his back. That’s too risky,” said Vallen.

“Bwmym Wmynd.” Diego swallowed his mouthful of food and tried again. “Brayden Willard.”

“What about Brayden?”

“We’ll ask him to help us. To act as our backup. The Alpha’s been giving his brothers more responsibilities lately. Brayden is just what we need. An extra set of eyes and ears and maybe he’ll have time to look for uploads as well.”

“Maybe.” Vallen looked thoughtful, and Diego wiped his mouth and pushed his empty plate away. He liked both the Alpha’s younger brothers, Favian and Brayden. Those two were only thirteen months apart in age, so they hung around together a lot. But they were four or five years younger than the Alpha, so he was very much the head of their family as well as their Alpha.

“Okay. Diego, you go get Brayden. Monty, you get us an inconspicuous car, and I’ll get a few tools. Meet by the basement elevator in fifteen minutes and bring gloves and balaclavas in case of CCTVs.”

“Gotcha.”

* * * *

Monty remained sitting at the café table, scrolled into the panther’s calendar on his cell phone, and looked at the available vehicles. The brown Ford was unused, so he booked it. He liked that car. It was dusty and dented. It was never washed, and the license plate was encrusted in dirt, making the likelihood of anyone reading it accurately very slender. But the engine was tuned, and the motor worked perfectly in case they needed to hurry away from a job.

He went back to the apartment, not seeing either of his brothers there, and changed his white T-shirt for a nondescript navy blue one and his shoes for dirty black boots with steel toecaps. He grabbed his favorite thin leather gloves, a balaclava, which he hated wearing unless it was actually snowing, and a black ball cap. Then he raced down the stairs to the offices, collected the keys to the Ford, and finished his journey in the basement.

He leaned against the concrete wall and switched his cell phone to vibrate, noting that he was three minutes early, a minor miracle considering everything he’d had to do in such a short timeframe.

Just then Brayden and Favian Willard arrived. Brayden was dressed much like him in boots, jeans, and a plain black T-shirt with a blue ball cap on sideways, but Favian was wearing bright red cargo pants, which were at least two sizes too big, dangled half off his hips, and showed four inches of lurid yellow Calvin Klein boxers. Favian was also wearing the most repulsive white T-shirt Monty had ever seen, featuring an ax dripping with blood, and the biggest sunglasses ever, which covered half his face.

“Um, Favian?”

“Yo, bro?”

“No one will ever forget seeing that outfit.”

“Exactly, my man. They’ll remember the clothing and have no clue at all about the person inside it. The police aren’t going to search the underwear drawers of every male in the city looking for yellow Calvin Kleins.”

He grinned. Favian had a point there.

The elevator door opened, so he beeped the car unlocked and headed across to it, taking the driver’s seat. “Do you want to do a little reconnaissance first, or shall I drive more or less straight there?” he asked Vallen.

“We don’t have a lot of time. Maybe just check a couple of blocks around the houses.”

“Let me off before we get to the first one so I won’t look too obvious walking past them several times,” said Favian.

“Not too obvious? Riiiight,” said Diego, snorting with laughter.

Monty grinned. Favian’s logic was good, though. He couldn’t imagine anyone paying attention to the face hidden behind the enormous sunglasses when half his ass was hanging out of his pants.

He drove up the road behind the first house and a block past the correct area then circled the two houses, staying a block outside them. No one appeared to be hanging around watching anyone. It was a good neighborhood, full of families, with bikes lying on lawns and against trees and basketball hoops on the garage walls.

“Why do kids from good neighborhoods like this want to be in a gang? I can understand poor kids. It’s the only way to make some money and get some street cred. But I don’t understand these kids at all,” said Brayden.

“For the excitement. Rich kids long for excitement. They like to pretend they’re oh-so-very-bad,” said Vallen.

Monty was concentrating on driving, but he added, “It’s more than that though. I don’t think they understand how very privileged they really are. They’ve never had it tough, and they want more and more and more, without realizing basically everything they could ever need is pretty much within their reach already, if they just did a little work.”

“Let me out when you turn this corner,” said Favian.

Monty did, stopping for the shortest possible time before driving slowly to the block in the middle of the two houses and parking behind two or three other cars. “It’s not much of a disguise,” he sighed. They were all station wagons and minivans, but it’d have to do.

He and Vallen headed toward the house of the boy considered to be the likely ringleader of the group while Diego and Brayden went in the other direction to the house of the boy who might have been involved in the destruction of the café.

Monty did what he always did before a job, stretched and wiggled his muscles group by group starting with his head, his neck, his right shoulder, and working his way down to the toes on his left foot. He finished just as they arrived at the house and boldly walked up to the front door. They’d been promised no one would be home at either residence, all the parents working full-time jobs and the boys supposedly at school.