“Jesus, man, you’re still not sleeping?” Manson’s brow furrowed with concern. “You’re going to lose your damn mind.”
“Okay, okay, I get it, I need to sleep.” He set Haribo down, waving his hand as if to brush away the topic. “But if you’re going to stage a break-in at Jessica’s place, you’re going to need help.” He spread his arms with a little grin. “And I’m exactly the genius to do it.”
Manson groaned, “Genius, huh?”
“Hold off on any insults until I’ve taken care of your security system problem,” he said. “After all, I’m doing this solely out of the goodness of my heart. It’s not like I get to participate in your game, considering I have to go get this mess taken care of.” He jerked his thumb at the Z.
Manson innocently put up his hands. “Oh, sure, sure. You are clearly the genius to do this.”
“Smartest guy in the house,” I said. “What would we do withoutyou?”
“That’s better. Now what time did you want to break into Jess’s place?”
I glanced over at Manson. “Sundown?”
He nodded. “Sundown.”
“Creepy,” Jason said. “I’ll work a little magic before Vincent and I have to take off. I’m sure Jess will just love the thought y’all are putting into your first date.”
23
Jessica
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a house all to myself. When I lived in the dorms at the university, I had three other roommates, so someone else was always bound to be there. But this morning, my parents had left early to catch their flight to Cabo, having dropped off Stephanie last night to stay with a friend. I had complete free rein of the house to do whatever I pleased.
A few years ago, I would have used this opportunity to throw the loudest and most outrageous party I possibly could. I’d managed to have a handful of truly wild parties at my parents’ house over the years, and they still didn’t have a clue.
But now, all I really wanted was a day to relax, especially after a difficult morning at work. My boss had assigned me to work with one of her pickiest – and wealthiest – clients, leaving me the responsibility of answering his daily long, rambling emails. The man had so many questions I often felt like I was repeating myself, but I was excited that my boss wanted me to personally engage with one of her most important customers.
The moment I finished work, I stripped out of my presentable clothes and put on an oversized t-shirt — no pants required. I ate snacks on the couch and played music as loudly as I wanted. Ihad skipped the gym for the past few days, and told myself this was my last day of being lazy so I needed to take full advantage. After this, I had to get back into my routine.
Although, my routine was going to be different now that I had four men ordering me around.
Every morning that week, I’d woken up to a text from Manson ordering me to edge myself. It was torture, lying there first thing in the morning with my vibrator between my legs, only allowed to bring myself to the very edge of orgasm before I had to stop.
I’d tried to avoid looking at the kink lists they’d sent me, purely because I knew it would work me up, and there would be nothing I could do about it. But that evening, I couldn’t resist. I settled on the couch, scrolling slowly through their lists with my bottom lip clenched between my teeth.
I wasn’t remotely surprised to see that orgasm control was a five out of five for Manson. I was already painfully well aware of how much he enjoyed that. All of them claimed an interest in consensual non-consent, with Lucas and Jason not only ranking it high as a giver, but as a receiver.
I’d always had a feeling they all fucked around with each other, they had a comradery that went beyond friendship. Vincent and Jason had been not-so-secretly dating for years, and I’d known Manson was bisexual. Lucas had always been a mystery, but he was far less of one now that I’d seen him and Manson together in the garage.
They weren’t monogamous; that much was clear.
This was a new territory for me. I was used to being in relationships where monogamy was an unbreakable rule. Even looking at someone else too long had led me into fights with previous partners. I felt as if I wassupposedto be jealous and possessive, but it frankly didn’t make sense in this situation.
I’d been furious about Veronica potentially getting with them; but the thought of them spending time with a manipulative,conniving, evil asshole like her was upsetting. I had too much history with Veronica to not get pissed off.
I still felt a little silly caring about it at all; it felt too serious. But I was in the thick of it now. I’d agreed to have sex with them, submit to them, be their toy to do with as they pleased. I think that was a big enough investment to be allowed to care about who else they had sex with.
Besides, they were way too good for Veronica. They deserved better.
I kept reading, sipping iced tea as I lounged on the couch. Vincent ranked high in nearly every aspect of bondage, which wasn’t surprising. Any type of restraint was five for him, as were most types of impact: whipping, spanking, slapping. Jason had all the weird kinks I had to Google the definitions of, but at least it expanded my vocabulary. I didn’t know what the hell “omorashi” was until I’d filled out my own list.
Now that I knew, I was even more horrified at myself. Why the hell did I have to like the weird shit?
I was working myself up far too much. Continuing to peruse those lists for any longer would qualify as sexual torture, especially when I had no hope of relief. Manson seemed determined to punish me with edging for as long as possible.
Instead, I got out my sketchbook and pencils and began to draw. I may not have been hired on as a designer yet, but I still needed to practice and ensure I was developing my skills. It helped refocus my energy, all my concentration going into each careful stroke of graphite across paper. I’d never considered myself much of an artist, but designing a structure required more than just artistic vision. The dimensions had to be right, the shape and layout had to draw the eye and appeal to the senses.