Taking Turns (Turning #1)(98)

“Also what? Tell me, Quin. I always feel like I’m in the dark with you guys. I don’t need to know everything but a little more information would go a long way.”

She’s right. She deserves to know what’s going on. Not all of it is mine to tell, so I’m not gonna give her everything. But a little more won’t hurt. “Bric said you needed it and Smith needed to give in to what you needed.”

She frowns again. “What’s that mean?”

“I think, Chella… you’re the only one who really knows. But I’m answering your question. Whether or not Smith will deny you what you want. And my answer is no. I don’t know how he’ll handle it, but he will handle it.”

“Do think he’ll blindfold me?”

“No.” I laugh. Why would he do that?”

“They did last week when we were together. To keep me anxious, I think.”

“No blindfolds,” I tell her, swiping a piece of hair away from her eyes. “We want you to see everything tonight.”

She draws in a deep breath and finally—finally—there are the nerves that should’ve put in an appearance as soon as I walked into her apartment.

“Are you ready?” I ask, taking her hand.

She nods her head and says, “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s go.”





Chapter Thirty-Five - Bric




The first thing I notice when Quin leads Chella through the door of Smith’s third-floor apartment is the dress. White, like a bride. Floor-length, with intricate beading on the skirt, and a plunging neckline that almost meets the high slit that comes all the way up the middle of her legs, barely covering her *.

It’s a dress that no bride would ever wear on her wedding day.

But this isn’t her wedding day. If I was going to continue the analogy it would definitely be more like the wedding night.

If you were marrying three men at the same time.

The dress was Smith’s choice and it makes me wonder about his state of mind these days. Chella’s throat is collared with diamonds, her wrists cuffed. We own her tonight, that’s what the jewelry means. Again, Smith’s idea. He wasn’t satisfied with what Quin and I had planned for her Christmas presents, so we gave in. We’ve been giving in to him a lot lately.

I glance at Smith, leaning against the bar, holding a drink, and find him transfixed. No one else is in the room right now. Just him. And her. They look at each other like they are starving.

We’re wearing tuxedos and Smith’s is brand new. Something a little edgier than he normally wears to the Club. Something he might have had specially made for his special day.

I clear my throat and say, “Chella. You look so beautiful.”

Smith sets his drink down on the bar and walks towards her, reaching with his outstretched hands. He takes her into his arms and Quin backs off, shooting me a look.

Nervous, I realize.

I think we’re all nervous tonight. And it’s not normal. Usually I’m in control of the first quad night and when I take control, I mean business. There is no room for nerves when I’m in charge. I don’t give anyone time to think, I just give orders.

Smith leans in to kiss Chella on the cheek. Whispers something to her I can’t hear. I’d never tolerate that either. The purpose of the quad is to… be a f*cking quad.

But I gave him my word so I wait, patient, as they have a private moment.

Smith backs away, still holding onto both of her hands, and then shifts until he’s got one arm around her. He leads her forward. Quin follows until the four of us are standing in the center of the large elegant room, looking at each other. So close, we form a tight circle.

“Hi, Bric,” Chella says, shy.

I don’t think I’ve seen her shy and I take a moment to wonder where it’s coming from. Smith?

“Chella,” Smith says, taking her hand and placing it over my cock. “Do you want Bric to f*ck you tonight?”

No, I decide. Her shyness isn’t because of Smith. Smith is playing, that’s evident.

Chella swallows, looks at me, then immediately back at Smith. “Yes.”

Smith places a hand on her hair and pets her. “And Quin?” he asks, taking her other hand and placing it on his cock.

Chella doesn’t look at Quin. She only sees Smith. She stares straight into his eyes. He gazes back, their stare intense in its meaning. “Yes,” she tells him.

Smith looks at me and says, “She’s yours. Give her what she wants, Bric.”

Chella is still staring at Smith and I realize what they’re doing. This night is only about them. This night is about what she wants and what Smith will give her. He’s giving her… me.

“Let’s have a seat, Quin,” Smith says, walking over to the couch. He takes a seat, Quin follows, looking a little confused. But he’s a good sport, so he sits down.

Smith unzips his trousers and pulls out his already fully erect cock. His eyes never leave Chella. Her eyes see no one else. He strokes himself, his fist wrapped tightly around his dick, and waits.

Quin looks at me and smiles.

I look at Chella and smile as well. Smith has always liked to watch. And I’m happy to put on a little show for him.

I walk around her, looking only at her body. She tries to turn with me, but I say, “Stand still, Chella. I’ll tell you when I want you to move.”