“Then, suddenly, it comes to me, I can have that. I can have it anytime I want it. Because I’ve seen her in the flesh now and all I have to do whenever I want to ride Trixie is close my eyes, shut ’em real tight, and imagine her sexy body towering over mine.
“It’s a fantasy, sure, but it’s an illusion drawn from the flesh. And it’s mighty damn close to reality after I’ve sat there on the hillside watching as she clasped her hands behind her head, threw her body forward, and begged for cock in that husky voice of hers.”
“Why you!” Rory barreled forward with his fists drawn tight enough to crack his knuckles. “I’ll make you fantasize, you sorry son of a bitch!”
Brock caught him before he clobbered Cash. Grabbing him by the shirt, he yanked him aside. “He’s not worth it, Rory. Why, anyone can see how crazy he is.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“The hell you aren’t!” Rory was shaking he was so angry, but when his eyes met Brock’s, he knew he needed to grasp some element of control.
“We’ll talk to Mitch about this,” Brock assured Cash, turning to leave.
Cash sneered. “And what do you think Mitch will do? Hmm? We’re friends, men. We’ve been through hell and back together.”
“You don’t know anything about friends,” Brock said. “Mitch grew up with us and he’ll listen. You might as well pack your bags, Whitehead. At the first sign of morning, you’re out of here.”
“I’ll go whenever I’m told to leave. It ain’t a problem. But just so you know, I’ll never forget your sweet woman. I’ll have her on her knees, stretched out in front of me, just begging for cock.” He winked. “If you don’t believe me, go check out that bathroom again. The cum on the wall is mine all right, but the pictures underneath the towel are what inspired the artwork.”
“What pictures?” Rory asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Brock said underneath his breath before addressing Cash once more. “You’re sick. You need help.”
“So I’ve been told,” Cash said. “But hey, I can’t complain. Fact is—I’m a free man. And the two of you can’t change that.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“What are you doing?” Trixie asked, joining Mitch in the kitchen.
Mitch set a bowl on the counter. “Do you know what this is?”
Trixie eyed the container. She mashed her knees together and swallowed once. “Yes.”
Mitch chuckled. “I forgot you grew up in a home with parents who didn’t hide the fact they were pretty kinky when the lights went out.”
“That’s not true,” Trixie said. “And my parents’ home isn’t where I’ve seen a hand of ginger.”
Mitch moistened his lips. “Let me guess. That feisty sister of yours keeps a few ginger fingers on ice?”
“Which sister?” she asked, a little perturbed at his insinuation.
“Ansley,” he replied. “Anyone can look at Tristan and tell what kind of relationship they have.”
“Wrong,” Trixie said, smiling to herself. She almost laughed outright. Ansley was spunky as hell and everyone mistakenly believed she was the more untamed of the two, but Kimberly had what her father once referred to as quirks, and God only knew what kind of experience she possessed with BDSM and all the benefits found within the lifestyle.
“Lean over the counter, Trixie.” Mitch’s voice was hoarse. He stepped aside and patted the granite. “Right here.”
Trixie’s nipples brushed against the thin camisole she wore. She stared at the hand of ginger. In particular, she studied the largest bulb, shaped like a pudgy finger.
“Do it now, sub,” he said, acknowledging Brock and Rory with a tilt of his head as they entered the apartment.
“What’s going on here?” Rory asked.
Trixie’s eyes met his. She shook her head once then focused on Brock. He swung his arm behind him, stopping Rory from joining them.
“Lean over like I told you,” Mitch said.
Trixie inched closer to the counter. She placed her palms flat against the cool surface.
“Arch,” Mitch said.
She jerked as her body responded to the excitement. A tremor of anticipation licked at her nape, sending cool chills down her arms and back.
Mitch ran his hand over her rear. “You still have that gorgeous ass.”
“I’ve put on some weight.”
“Shh,” he whispered at her ear. “You’re perfect.”
He stroked her behind and she relaxed as he caressed her. Then, he yanked her jogging pants down to her knees and stood behind her.