Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Zeph

When I explained to Taylor and Ford how the girl thinks we were hired by her best friend to fuck her, Ford scoffed, but I managed to convince him to roll with it. Besides, what’s the alternative? We keep her tied up until the fucking storm passes? Then the first thing she will do is try to run to the cops, which would force our hand to kill her. While I will resort to that if I have to, I don’t want to kill an innocent woman who was simply minding her own business in her house. That seems a little excessive, even for me. Besides, I really don’t feel like spending the rest of my life in prison. I mean, I’m okay going back in for a worthy cause, like a share of a hundred million dollars, but murder, not so much.

When she mentioned fucking her, I won’t lie, I was shocked. A little thing like her offering to run, and then once I caught her I could fuck her? How could I turn that offer down?

Honestly, she’s the perfect fucking alibi.

An alibi is the only reason Ford has gotten on board.

Now everything will fall into place.

The camera feed will have alerted Ford’s father’s security company that the painting has been stolen, even if his system is more of a joke than Ford’s original system. With a little manipulation, they’ll see us—or rather three masked Santas—break in and take the painting, but it will appear as if it occurred hours after we were actually there. It corresponds with the time security footage will place us at a gas station and our other pre-planned stop far away from the scene of the crime. It’s genius. Except that with no reception and now being stuck here, it means we don’t have any footage of us once we left the bar last night. Did I purposely pick a fight? Yes, because that way people will remember us. Plus, there’s the fact that fighting gets my blood pumping. My nose still hurts like a son of a bitch, though. The other guy was scrappy as fuck and got me with a pool cue right across the bridge of my nose. Security threw us out after I smashed a glass and attacked him. The only reason he isn’t dead is it wasn’t my end goal.

Shaking my head, I snap out of my wayward thoughts and refocus on the room just in time to see Taylor put his fingers to our little gift’s mouth and tell her to open. She immediately obeys, and fuck, that makes my cock hard.

“Can you taste yourself, little gift?” I whisper in her ear. “I’m going to untie you and flip you onto your hands and knees. Then my friend is going to fuck you while you suck my cock.”

“Yes, please,” she whimpers. Taylor chuckles while moving back and brushing his silver-toned hair out of his face. He smiles up at me, so I wink at him.

I slip out from behind her and unravel the lights, leaving them on the floor beside the tree—we will definitely need them soon. After I slip her thong off, purposefully trailing my fingers along her soft skin as I go, I flip her onto her hands and knees, then whisper in her ear again. “Keep the blindfold on and be a good girl. I would hate for anything bad to happen.”

Taylor kneels behind her, his cock already in hand as he swipes it up and down through the wet mess her pussy has made. His head falls back and his eyes flutter closed as he slowly thrusts into her.

“Fuck,” he drawls. “I almost forgot what pussy feels like.”

I chuckle and move around him, wrapping my hand around his neck and lining it up with where he had my hand tattooed a few months ago. “Unless her pretty little ass can also take my cock while you fuck her, you belong to me. She’s just lucky to get to borrow what’s mine.”

Our little gift moans—someone likes dirty talk. I release Taylor’s neck and walk back around, then drop in front of her. I remove my cock from my pants and wrap my tattooed hand around my length. “How does his cock feel inside you, little gift? Does it feel good having something belonging to me buried deep in your cunt?”

She visibly shivers as I speak. “Answer me,” I demand.

“It feels so good. Please let him fuck me.”

“Let’s see how well you can suck dick first,” I rasp out, teasing the head of my cock across her mouth. My precum smears over her pretty pink lips and her tongue darts out to lick it away, instantly making my cock hard as a rock. She opens her mouth as I press the tip to her lips. This woman knows exactly what she is doing as she wraps one of her dainty hands around my base and slides her mouth down with enough pressure I thrust forward, making her gag.

“Fuck her T—” Shit! Taylor’s name nearly slipped from my mouth. “Show her how well we work as a team. I want your cock so slick with her juices I can hear you sliding in and out of her tight cunt.”

Taylor digs his fingers into her hips and thrusts hard and deep. Every time he pulls back, I can see just enough of his cock it turns me on more.

I glance up at Ford, who is watching us fuck her, and his hand rubs against the crotch of his pants. “You should join us, Daddy. Who knows? Emptying your sack this close to Christmas might make you feel better. Come on, are you scared? Come play with our little gift.”

He grumbles under his breath but still pushes off the wall. He falls to his knees beside us and frees his massive hard-on from his pants. Ford is a straight man, but it doesn’t mean I can’t drool over his cock.

Reaching out, he runs the palm of his hand over her ass before squeezing one of her cheeks, while his other hand glides up and down his shaft. He makes it seem so effortless.

Our little gift pops off my cock with a squeak as Ford slides his pointer finger into her wetness beside Taylor’s cock.

I growl in the back of my throat at the contact between them, and Ford chuckles.

“Oh fuck,” she screams as Ford inserts his finger in her ass, while Taylor rolls his hips the way you see male strippers do, and fuck if that isn’t hot.

“Please,” she whimpers, “I need to come.”

I tuck my cock back away as an idea strikes. Moving to lie on my back, I slide underneath her and lift my head enough to suck on her clit, feeling Taylor’s balls whack me in the head. Taylor or Ford must push down on her back because her pussy sits right on my face and her screams fill the air until she shudders above me, her juices covering my face.

Sliding out from beneath her, I get to my knees and pull my cock out again, wiping a hand over my face. Wrapping her scent around me, I pull my cock to the speed Taylor is fucking her. From the corner of my eye, Ford leans over and squirts his cum onto her back.

“FUCK,” Taylor grits out a minute later as he pulls out and comes on her back as well, spurring me on. A couple more pumps and my dick explodes, coating her lips and chin. As the aftershocks wear off, I use my thumb to swipe up my cum from her face and add it to the mess on her back.

“Can you feel that? That’s what you did to us, little gift.”

She chuckles, and her body slumps to the floor. Ford stands and stalks away.

“My name is Elena, but my friends call me Lenny.”

“It’s nice to put a name to the face,” Taylor says, smacking her ass before he pushes himself to a stand.

Throwing him his balaclava, I watch as he pulls it over his head, and I do the same with mine, but leave the glow mask off. I plan to have more fun with the masks and Santa suits, but I’m not a complete dick. She needs food and a shower before we chase her around the apartment again, but the thought of scaring her a little has me smiling like a creeper.

Taylor stares at me and mouths, What? But I just shrug.

Our faces covered once again, Taylor helps Lenny to her feet and pulls the blindfold away.

She blinks up at him like a cute, confused owl. “Do I get to know your names?”

“That would be a no, or have you forgotten you are being held hostage?”

She turns to me and smirks. “Can it really be called being held hostage when I can’t go anywhere in this weather, even if I wanted to, and you’re being paid?” Then she gasps and slaps a hand over her mouth. “Shit, you were only paid for the first time. I have no money. I left my ex because he slipped and fell into his receptionist’s pussy. Then, unfortunately, I might have drunkenly fucked his brother as payback, but long story short, I have no money. Though my uncle might lend me some.”

“Calm down, you don’t have to pay us. Fucking you really isn’t a chore. Why don’t you go shower, and we’ll find something to eat?”

She nods and walks her gloriously naked, cum-covered body toward the hallway where the bedrooms are located. I catch Taylor staring at her ass, and I slap him across the chest.

“What? She has a nice ass. Besides, you were looking as well”—I totally was—“and what was with all that ‘I own you’ shit?”

I laugh. “It made her wet, didn’t it? And we both know I will always own your ass.”

Taylor scoffs. “You wish. I’ll go see if I can find some clothes to wear since we were going to buy new ones. What moron doesn’t pack the clothes?”

“Me, apparently,” I reply, followed by a chuckle that has him flipping me off.

“What the fuck are you doing, letting her walk around by herself?” Ford barks, striding back into the open space.

“You can deal with that,” Taylor whispers with a slight head nod toward Ford and walks off to the bedrooms.

“Calm down, old man. She doesn’t believe she’s being held hostage—we’ve gone over this. What’s the harm if she showers and eats willingly? At least this way, when the snow clears and we leave, she will think she had her fantasies fulfilled, and we’ll be in the clear.”

He shakes his head. “And what happens when she talks to her friend? She’ll tell her she didn’t pay anyone to fuck her. You idiots have not put your glow masks back on over your balaclavas, and if I’m not mistaken, you came inside her earlier.” Fuck, he has a point. “I don’t have a criminal record, but you two can’t afford to fuck this up.”

“Then I have to kill her,” I say with a sigh.

“You’re not killing anyone... I’ll figure this out.” Ford rubs his temples, like he always does when he’s stressed.

“Go sit down while I make breakfast and coffee.”

Ford grunts and heads over to the couch to do just that. He hates change. He never takes time off, and this would be killing him. This wasn’t about the money for him. It was a huge fuck you to his father and ex-wife.

Moving into the kitchen, I head to the refrigerator and open it, finding it full of food and so organized I itch to move shit around. But Lenny said this is her uncle’s house, and since I won’t be here when he is, it kind of defeats the point.

Pulling out some bacon and eggs, I place them on the counter, along with some orange juice. The coffee machine looks like something from outer space, and I stand and stare at it before pushing a few buttons.

“Here, let me do that,” Lenny says, maneuvering her tiny body in front of me. The smell of fresh flowers assaults my senses, like the smell you get when you walk into a florist. It’s so light and bright, and somehow it suits her.

Her blue hair is piled up in a messy bun on top of her head, and she wears an oversized hoodie and fluffy socks. She pushes up onto her tiptoes to open a cupboard above her head and pulls out the coffee. I watch as she puts it all together in a way that requires a fucking college degree.

“That seems like so much effort for coffee,” I say, and she chuckles.

“My uncle’s partner is a little over the top, if you can’t tell.” She gestures around the room. “They had an indoor pool installed downstairs. If you move that tapestry over there, a slide takes you outside the building and down to the second level. There is another slide to go down to the pool area. It’s a lot.”

“And what do they do to make this kind of money?”

She snorts. “Not much different from you, really, except he streams his activities.”

“Yeah, maybe we are not so different, minus the space machine.”

Taylor walks back into the room, balaclava still on, but now dressed in a pair of gray sweats and a white shirt that hugs all his muscles.

Both Lenny and I stare. Her mouth falls open, and I reach across and push her jaw closed. “Shit, sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s fine. Why don’t you make Daddy a coffee? He likes it black, like his soul.”

Lenny nods. “What about you?” she asks.

I inhale and pause. My childhood trauma resurfaces when people ask me if I want something, or when they say things like, “What about you?” Until I met Taylor and Ford, no one gave enough of a shit about me to ask. I pick up the jug of juice and show her I’m all set, then turn my back to compose myself with the mental reminder that I’m a grown-ass man and don’t need to be in my feelings over a woman asking if I want a coffee.