Bam, we’d set the stage for me to propose a new game. Quin would object, but I know he misses it. And he admitted that to me before we left the Club. So he’d give in.
My life would be back on track. Maybe not the quad I’m used to, but a threesome arrangement is almost as good. It’s practically what we had before, right? Smith was never around. It was just me and Quin. But last time I wasn’t invited into their relationship much. Every once in a while, but not often.
This time it’ll be different.
And if Smith didn’t interfere like that, we’d probably be on our way.
But he did. Asshole. And now we’re not quite there yet.
Rochelle came here expecting to be let back in. So it would be a big blow if she had to leave town with her tail between her legs. Worse yet, if she tried to stay and was overlooked when it came to Quin’s choice in the new game.
“I don’t know, Rochelle. We kinda had a talk today and I admitted I’d like him to play along again. Of course, no mention of your name. That was before we left the Club. But he was willing to give it a try. Just me and him and whomever we decide to choose.”
“So you might choose someone else?”
“Was I just speaking another language?”
“Don’t be an asshole. And ease up on the swearing-in-front-of-the-baby shit. It’s not like you to care about things like that. You’re only saying that because I said something to you yesterday.”
“But you didn’t correct Quin or Smith today.”
“I didn’t have a chance. You started being weird about it.”
“Anyway,” I say, looping the conversation back around to my point. “I think he’ll come around. Listen, I gotta go. Lots of shit to do this time of year.”
“Parties?” she says.
“Is that a hint of wistfulness I detect? You better get over it if it is. Because this game won’t look anything like the last one.”
“Explain,” she says.
“When I know more, I will. But I won’t know more until Quin and I talk it over. What time does the baby usually nap? In the morning?”
“Around ten—ten-thirty. She wakes up early so she’s usually tired around then. Why?”
“You’ll see. Kiss that baby for me. I really do gotta go.”
I hang up before she can answer back and lean into my chair.
She looked good today. Much better than yesterday even though she was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Yesterday she looked lonely. Today she looked… hopeful.
I might be hopeful too. I mean, Jesus Christ. A few days ago, I was upstairs with Jordan losing the game—yet again. And today Rochelle is back. If everything goes well we’re gonna be fucking her tomorrow. And then… who knows?
Rochelle isn’t my dream girl, but she’s good enough. She was only a fair submissive. She likes the spankings and a little bit of bondage. Blindfolding, tying her hands to the bed, and a few minutes with the gag in her mouth are all things we did together.
But Rochelle is never going to crawl across the floor to suck my cock. Or look up at me, crying beautiful silent tears as I fuck her mouth. She’d knee me in the balls if I ever tried to make her call me Master.
I have to laugh just thinking about it.
So, no. She’s not really into the kind of kink I like. But that’s what the Club is for, right? Rochelle is like the wife and the Club girls are like the mistresses.
Christmas is coming and even though Smith and Chella will be going to most of the parties themselves this year, I still have a few on my calendar. Rochelle is a good date. Someone I can take out in public. She knows what to do. How to act. What to say—and not say.
She’s… trained.
It’s a little derogatory. I’ll admit to that. But it’s also true. I invested three years of my life with her and Quin—why throw that away? I never wanted her to leave. Quin never wanted her to leave. Rochelle didn’t even want to leave. She was hormonal, she said. Not thinking straight.
So now she just needs a little help to reconsider all her options.
I smile as I kick my feet up on my desk and stare out at the capitol building.
Quin wants her back, he’s just playing hard to get. And Smith told me that he thinks Quin misses me while we were waiting for him to show up at the Club for lunch today. I think he does too. We had something good, man. It was good. No thinking, no awkwardness, no jealousy. Not enough to matter, anyway.
So this is my challenge. Make both of them reconsider their options. Get the three of us together alone so they can remember how easy it is.
It will be easy. I can feel it.
We’re a little family. We had a small spat, but family is family.
Plus, there’s a baby now. Our baby. No matter who that baby’s father is, she’s still ours. That right there might be enough glue to hold us together.
Hmmm. I think about this for a moment.
Maybe Rochelle is right about not getting a DNA test? I mean, I know why she doesn’t want one. She doesn’t want to share that baby with us. But it’s too late. She’s back, the baby is here, and Quin and I know about her.
Rochelle’s game is over.
But… I could take Rochelle’s side against Quin in this respect. Put that test off so none of us know who the real father is. That way we have to be a threesome.
Yes. Little Adley Bastille is our glue.
As long as none of us know who the real father is, we’ll be together. I’ll have my stability back, Quin will have Rochelle back, and Rochelle will be right back where she belongs.
In my game.
A new game.
The three of us together. All day, every day.
My mind is spinning with ideas. Plots and plans to get what I want. What we all want. It’s not really all about me.
Well. I chuckle, feeling a little smug. It’s mostly about me.
Chapter Six - Rochelle
Adley is just about asleep when a loud knock at the door startles her heavy eyes open.
“Shhh,” I say, swaying her in my arms in front of the window. It’s sunny today and the sun makes her sleepy.
The knock comes again and I want to kill whoever is on the other side of that door right now. I walk across the living room and down the small hallway. Opening a hotel room door is never a quiet affair. There’s all those serious locking mechanisms and you really have to pull. So by the time I get the door open Adley is awake.
Bric’s knuckles are poised to knock again and Quin is standing off to the side.
“You woke her up,” I say. “I was just trying to get her to sleep.”
“Sorry about that,” Bric says, pushing past me to enter the room.
Quin waits for an invitation, so I oblige by waving my hand and saying, “Come in?” as I turn away and go back to the window. Adley is having none of it. Bric comes up beside me and whispers, “I told you to be getting out of the shower. And why is she still awake?”
I vaguely recall my phone ringing this morning at six AM. Even more vaguely the one-sided conversation with Bric that came afterward. I have no memory of this shower request.
“The long t-shirt is a nice touch though. Shows off your legs. I’m going to presume you’re not wearing underwear?”