“Thank you so much, Colt, for that surprise trip to the spa earlier. Pampering at its finest! I can’t speak for Lindsay, but for me, it was so nice to get a massage, you know, to relax my muscles from shopping so hard.”

Colt shot Pamela a glare, a thin, almost unnoticeable hint of a smile appearing on his lips. “You and Lindsay cleaned out the lingerie store earlier. It was brutal.”

“It wasn’t brutal, it was fun!” Delight sparkled in Pamela’s eyes. “The clerk there appreciated us since she worked on commission. Girls like Lindsay and I need to be spoiled rotten.”

His thumb brushed against the inside of her palm. “You deserve everything you get, angel.” He pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “So precious.”

“What do you want, sweetie?” Pamela swept long hair away from her face as she turned and regarded Lindsay. Along with Colt, they stepped forward in line. “I’m buying.”

“You’re not buying, I’m buying. It’s my turn.” Lindsay glanced up, her expression dancing with friendliness. “Hi there. I’ll take a Teavana London Fog Tea Latte. Large size, with extra spiced apple drizzle and cinnamon powder. Oh, and whipped cream on top.” She squeezed Pamela’s wrist. “I’m buying this time.”

Pamela’s eyes met Lindsay’s, a hint of competitive challenge in them before focusing on the young lady behind the counter. “Afternoon, hi, how are you? I’ll take an Almond Milk Honey Flat Light Venti.”

“Anything for you, sir?” the barista asked.

“Nah, I’m cool, thank you.” Colt raised his hands. “Never been much of a coffee drinker.”

“And what are the names for the orders?”

“Dakota for hers,” Lindsay said, “and Kayleigh for mine.”

Pamela perked up, her mouth ajar.

“Please step over to the register and pay.”

“No one has called me Dakota in over a decade,” Pamela said to Lindsay as they waited for their drinks to be fulfilled. “Not since Colt’s dad ran the house. How did you know about that name? Who told you?”

“You told me!” The words sprang from Lindsay’s mouth. “My first day on the job, you told me.”

“Don’t you love this girl’s style?” Pamela later asked Colt, slipping an arm around Lindsay’s shoulder and snuggling close. “She was killin’ it at Venus Unveiled earlier. Lindsay has like, this unique style where she makes like, the most mini like sexy but cute outfits look the sluttiest … but not quite.” Laughter erupted from Pamela.

“Huh?” Colt grunted.

Lindsay suppressed a smile. “Pamela is the perfect person to help me out with that, isn’t she?”

The budding triad boarded a nonstop flight in Las Vegas and landed in Arlington, Virginia last evening at nine o’clock. It was a miserable experience, being forced to wait on the runway at McCarren International Airport for seventy-five minutes due to a mechanical issue with the plane. Everything was all right now, though, being in Fairfax, Maryland – Pamela and Colt’s hometown – and looking forward to a fun-filled weekend before it was back to Nevada and the professional grind on Monday.

From sightseeing to museums to sports, there was plenty to keep the trio entertained. This morning, for example, they toured Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, the heartbeat of the city, and so closely connected to the aquarium, science center, and plenty of restaurants and shopping (including the lingerie boutique). On the waterfront, four military vessels, most notably the USS Constellation, welcomed visitors with tours, events, and hands-on exhibits to let one experience what life was like at sea in the Civil War era.

Fort McHenry played a major role in the War of 1812 when it was used to successfully defend Baltimore Harbor against the British navy. During the battle, an American flag was flown over the fort as the bombardment reached its apex. The sight of the flag inspired Francis Scott Key to write a poem he entitled Defence of Fort M’Henry, which would later be renamed The Star-Spangled Banner, set to music, and adopted as the USA’s national anthem.

Wide-eyed and full of wonder, Lindsay was fascinated as she took everything in, having never visited anywhere east of Montana. Maryland is awesome! Most surprising was Pamela and Colt’s farmhouse-style residence situated on four acres of a botanical paradise featuring mature white oak and red maple trees, lush wildflower vegetation such as azaleas and milkweeds, and arrowwood shrubbery.

Though Lindsay had never been in a house more beautiful and knew it had to cost an absolute fortune, she felt at ease in it. This blows the old digs in Citronelle away. In Sammy’s mansion in Salt Lake City, and the penthouse they later moved into, Lindsay felt out of place, afraid she’d bump into something and break a “priceless item” on a desktop or shelf.

Pamela and Colt were the consummate hosts, making certain she was comfortable following their cross-country trip. I do have a complaint though. Poor Lindsay was relegated to the guest bedroom last evening. When is Colt finally going to give me what I want? What I need? It was frustrating, but Pamela kept preaching patience, insisting Colt would come around sooner rather than later. I hope they don’t mind I played with my vibrator last night in their bed. Not only couldn’t she help herself, but Lindsay made a mess too. I should run the bed sheets through the washer before they find out. Her brow furrowed as she sipped her coffee, zeroing in on Colt and his rugged, handsome visage. Oh, how she wished she could press her cheek to that broad, magnificent chest and listen to his kind heartbeat underneath all those layers of muscle. Sweet Jesus!

Upon leaving Starbucks, Lindsay pulled open the door before Colt could reach for it. He went to hold it for her, but she’d already walked through. His throat thickened as he squinted at her.

“Don’t worry, chivalry isn’t dead yet.” Pamela spoke in a subdued tone and smirked as she slipped past him.

“This area is so cute. It’s so green. I love it.” Lindsay closed her eyes, spread her arms, and inhaled all the air she could. “So different than what I’m used to back in Nevada and California, and Utah.” She smiled at an elderly man as he struggled to get by. “Hi there, sir. How are you? Do you need any help with your cane?”

Priding himself on being a proper gentleman, the way Lindsay opened the door and bristled through it threw Colt off his game, though it shouldn’t have. Had she allowed him to open a single door or pull out a chair for her yet since leaving Flagstone? She’d never been with a man who truly wanted to put her first, he thought, and take care of her. Sure, it took some time (and lots of cajoling from Pamela), but Colt viewed Lindsay as a likable gal nowadays, polite, affable, and irresistible. She was a lady and deserved to be treated as one.

“Tell me about this hiking trail we’re going to tomorrow afternoon. You know how I love to hike.”

“Cascade Falls Trail down in Elliot City,” Pamela said to Lindsay. “You and Colt will have a wonderful time. It’s not long, but the scenery is breathtaking, and I’ve always loved the little waterfall halfway through. We used to have picnics there when I was a kid.”

“I wish you’d come along with us.” Lindsay blew out a sigh, her shoulders sagging. “It sucks that you’re not.”

“I can’t.” Pamela swallowed hard and blinked several times. “Trust me, I’d love to go. But I promised my mom, my dad, and my sisters I’d spend the day with them. This is such a short, quick trip home for us, only two full days because we visited Palm Springs first. Usually, Colt and I spend our entire week away from work, our vacation, here in Maryland.” As activity buzzed all around them on the sidewalk, Pamela brushed her knuckles down the side of Lindsay’s face. “Baby, I can’t come home and not spend any time with my family. That wouldn’t be right.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” On the bright side, how often did Lindsay get to have one-on-one time with Colt? Would tomorrow’s hike provide some fireworks? Or at least further their mutual attraction? What I want is for us to fuck and get it over with. The only other time Lindsay recalled being alone with Colt was when he escorted her to the Sulaco County Sheriff’s Department last month to obtain a work permit. But that was only a half-hour. I guess we stopped at the convenience store too. “Does your family know about your … sexual preferences?”

“Oh, my family knows I’m bisexual.” Pamela’s golden hair streamed out behind her, carried by the wind. “There’s no doubt. I’ve never told them, but trust me, they know.”

“How are you so sure?”

“They know about the brothel and Mom made an account on the website and registered for the bulletin board. I know how she is – I’ll bet anything she snoops and reads what everyone says about me, reads all the reviews, and that I’m Queen Heaux, Queen of the Threesome.” Pamela inhaled the sweet aroma of flavored coffee from the plastic cup. “I have no doubt they know.” Breath stirred her hair. “I could be embarrassed by it, but I’m not. It is what it is. I knew what the ramifications would be when I came clean and told them about the brothel. Paula, my older sister, she’s not cool about it, but everyone else is, even my dad.”

“And you don’t think they’ll be suspicious of Colt not being with you tomorrow? Not being there for the day out, the family outing? He’ll be with me – another woman – not you.”

Pamela offered a dismissive wave. “No, no way. Why would they? Colt may be a transplant here, but they know he has friends in town, too, and I told them he’s got things to do elsewhere. No harm, no foul, no suspicions.”

“I’m hoping you tell your family about me in the future, as well, and I get to meet them.” Lindsay bit her lower lip to keep from grinning like a kid going to Disneyland. “I … I’d like that. For them to … accept me.” She had visions of not only being married to Pamela one day, but also Colt. I want to have that man’s babies and for Pamela to have equal say in raising them. Didn’t Lindsay deserve ultimate happiness, too, after all the horrible things that happened to her? It’s been a troublesome year, that’s for sure.

“I’d like that, too, honey. I have faith that, in time, they’ll accept you.” Pamela settled her hand on the curve of Lindsay’s back as they strolled side-by-side. “My parents, especially, they’ve chilled out over the years.”

I wish my parents would chill out and be more accepting of me too. When Lindsay left Evie’s final resting place less than forty-eight hours ago, the tombstone and its surrounding area popped with vibrant colors thanks to her special touch. She decorated it with an assortment of flower arrangements, put up a pair of sun-catchers, wind chimes, and a lavish wreath. Lindsay also left a memorial rock at the base of the marker with an engraved inscription:

If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane, I’d walk right up to Heaven and bring you home again.

Though she was in Citronelle that evening, and mere miles from her family home, Lindsay insisted on immediately ditching town after the cemetery visit. Mom, Dad, my sisters? No one wants anything to do with me there. She considered herself an outcast, vilified by family and friends once close to her, and the sole reason Evie committed suicide. I shouldn’t have pestered her as hard as I did about taking a job at the brothel.

I should’ve backed off. …

Would Lindsay ever be welcome back into her religious and God-fearing family? I disgraced the Anastacio name and legacy by spreading my legs and becoming a whore. Thanks to all the media attention from Evie’s suicide, the entire town knew what job Lindsay had, and where to find her. It’s so humiliating! How long would it be before someone she knew – even if it was an acquaintance – came looking for a GFE? Lindsay had been half-expecting Big Dick – her creepy neighbor while growing up – to pop in unannounced and surprise her one day with a fistful of cash. That old man would give anything to fuck me.

Regarding her family, though, she had to face facts. It is what it is. Easier said than done, but Lindsay was trying her damnedest to adopt Pamela’s philosophy and push forward. I must accept that everyone hates me now and move on. Alison said I’m the worst sister ever and that I’ll forever burn in Hell. Birthdays and Christmastime would be rough. It is what it is. Move on, forge ahead.

Who needed those people anyway? You keep trying to tell yourself that, chicka. Coldness crept up Lindsay’s backbone, fluttering like a breeze through her sundress. Maybe one day, you’ll believe it … or not.

Didn’t she want to bust free from Citronelle? That was her primary reason for taking a job at the brothel in the first place, right? I promised myself long ago that if I ever escaped that wretched hellhole, I’d never look back. Dread slithered through and blanketed her veins. Well, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Too many mixed emotions swirled within her chest. You’re free, you’re an adult now, and you’re away from Citrosmell. You’re making mad cheddar, too, and could survive on your own if need be.

But look at what it cost you.

“Is everything okay, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh, I’m thinking about my family.” On the exterior, Lindsay appeared vulnerable, fragile, with moist eyes and a trembling lower lip, but behind the tears, Pamela saw fierce determination. “I miss them.”

“Hey, I’ve got you. Shh.” Pamela stopped mid-stride and whispered against Lindsay’s cheek. “You’re okay. I know you miss them. Breathe, baby. Just breathe. You don’t have to do anything else. There, there, I’ve got you.”

Lindsay focused on Pamela’s assurance and exhaled. Oblivious to any onlookers, she wilted against her. Pamela was warm and supple, safe, and loving. So loving. Lindsay closed her eyes and tuned out everything except her calming heartbeat. God, I love you, Pamela. She’d never felt so safe in someone’s arms. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. …

<> <> <> <> <>

Attending a major league baseball game at Oriole Park at Camden Yards in the Ridgely’s Delight neighborhood of Baltimore was quite enjoyable for Colt as a sports fan and even more therapeutic as a human being. On a muggy summer afternoon or a crisp autumn evening, nothing could compare to the sights and sounds of a professional baseball game and the countless spectacles one had to offer.

The grass, fresh cut and a verdant green. The dirt, soft, silky, and perfectly manicured. The vendors going up and down the aisles with their unique and loud, boisterous personalities, wanting you to purchase a snack or a cold beverage. The unmistakable, delicious scent of overpriced hot dogs and peanuts wafting through the air, permeates your senses. Seeing the star athletes that you invest your time and enthusiasm in as a fan, stretching and taking batting practice, and the anticipation reaching a crescendo as the game begins and they get down to business.

Hearing the pop of a screaming fastball hitting the catcher's glove. The timeless crack of a bat and watching in full speed as the baserunner stretches a double into a triple. The energy of the crowd. Umpire, no! Bad call! He was safe! Fans yelled chants and taunts toward the opposite team, while their own supporters give it right back.

And then, of course, there is one truly magical moment that can make the memory of any baseball game on a random August evening last for a lifetime – catching your first foul ball.

Colt had been a baseball fan for as long as he could remember, but growing up in Flagstone, there were no major league teams for 450 miles. He chose the Los Angeles Dodgers as his favorite squad and was overjoyed when his father scored a pair of tickets to Game One of the 1988 World Series. There, he witnessed Kirk Gibson hit one of the most dramatic home runs in the sport’s history.

Though out of their way, William made a habit of taking Colt to a few major league contests each year, whether in Los Angeles, Anaheim, or San Diego. But the venue they attended most was Cashman Field in North Las Vegas, once home to the Las Vegas Stars, the class AAA minor league affiliate of the San Diego Padres.

When Colt turned eighteen and could afford to travel and do things on his own, he expanded his reach, attending MLB games in San Francisco, Oakland, Seattle, Denver, Kansas City, and New York, among other places. Once meeting Pamela, however, and traveling with her on countless trips to Maryland (and eventually moving here), Colt adopted the Baltimore Orioles as his official team.

Built in 1992 with its modern yet retro vibe, Camden Yards was the best professional sports stadium Colt had ever been in. It still looked brand new; it was open, inviting, sparkling, easy to get around, and, despite the team being a cellar dweller in the current win/loss standings, a cheerful atmosphere prevailed. Parking was a breeze and the concessions were appetizing.

“He was out!” Lindsay yelled toward an umpire when a call didn’t go the Orioles’ way. Colt glanced sideways as Lindsay sprung out of her seat behind the first base dugout as if she were on a pogo stick, her blonde ponytail flailing in the wind, and cupped both hands to her mouth. “Boo! Booooo! You need new glasses, ump!” An instant later, she plopped back into her seat and turned toward Colt with a happy, vibrant laugh, full of energy.

All part of going to the game.

How lucky was Colt? Though the Orioles got bulldozed by the Houston Astros on Saturday night by a score of 23-2, Lindsay was nestled to his right the whole time, sipping mineral water and eating popcorn. She had on a saucy, little white halter top and a tiny pair of orange mesh shorts with a drawstring in front and the Orioles’ team logo brandished on her left hip. The shorts flattered Lindsay and were quite the distraction in the summer heat.

Colt gawked at those bare legs for four hours.

Even better, Pamela was to his left, dressed in a form-fitting orange tank-top with a blue sports bra visible underneath and a pair of black spandex shorts. Pamela bounced and giggled from first pitch to final out, and despite wearing earmuffs to combat excess noise, was a nonstop chatterbox, and tossed Colt an endless array of kisses at the most random times. Pleasurable, yes, and much appreciated, but Colt’s primary focus – and a sudden, undeniable desire – was shifting elsewhere.

Being here tonight, right here, right now – this is the first time I’ve felt Lindsay is legitimately part of us, like she belongs in our lives. His neck vibrated as he snuck another peek at an unblemished thigh. Fuck, she’s hot.

Perhaps a baseball game wouldn’t be the first place one would foresee Lindsay and Pamela spending their Saturday evening, but Lindsay jumped at the possibility of attending when they were brainstorming ideas earlier. She’d been a casual observer of the sport her entire life thanks to her father, a dyed-in-the-wool Dodgers fan, but had never been to an actual game. Pamela didn’t care for baseball – she was more of a football and basketball fan – but loved going to the ballpark regardless. No matter the outcome, a trip to Camden Yards was a social event – an experience – and a chance to wear a cute and sexy outfit, drink copious amounts of Duckpin Pale Ale, and mingle amid the masses.

Early in the contest, Pamela made a face and smacked Colt’s shoulder. “You’re being disrespectful.”

“What? I’m not being disrespectful.” He glanced at the seat in front of him, or more specifically, the mound of peanut shells collecting on the ground close to someone else’s feet. “I’m making a mess, but this is what you do at baseball games. You eat peanuts and enjoy them.”

Lindsay laughed. “You’ve had a lot of peanuts.”

He focused on her. “I like peanuts at the game and you throw them on the ground. It’s what you do.”

“Kind of messed up, but …” Lindsay motioned toward the aisleway littered with beer and soda cups, hot dog and nacho carriers, wax paper, and yes, peanut shells, “… this is disgusting. Look, it goes all the way down.”

“Neanderthals.” Pamela shivered theatrically. “I feel terrible for the workers who have to clean this up.”

“They should give you a bag when you buy food here,” Lindsay said to Colt, “so you can put your garbage in it.”

“That wouldn’t be any fun, though.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “This is fun to you?”

“Yeah. It’s fun to throw ‘em on the ground.”

“This is a million times worse than a movie theater. God, people are disgusting.”

“Don’t mind Colt,” Pamela said to Lindsay. “He’s the King of the Neanderthals and has no hope.”

Colt stood and stretched his back. “I’m gonna go buy another Pepsi and a slice of pizza, I think. Either of you want anything?”

Pamela held up her own beverage. “Yes. More alcohol, please. I’m letting my hair down tonight.”

“Get me some too.”

“No.” Colt’s eyes narrowed as he gazed Lindsay’s way. “Not in public; you’re not of legal drinking age.”

Her brows tightened together.

“Get her a hot dog … a foot longer. I’m sure she’d love that.” Pamela brimmed with sudden laughter. “No, no, get her a corn dog instead!”

Lindsay first shot Pamela a lethal glare, then did the same for Colt. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

This whole “triad” thing seemed like a silly thought, a fleeting fantasy, and a recipe for disaster for an eleven-year marriage that had experienced its fair share of turbulence in recent times. At first, Colt had his reservations, but in the past several weeks he had witnessed a transformation in Pamela. She awoke feeling happier each day and often spoke about her desire to have Lindsay in their bed every night going forward and waking up beside her every morning. Pamela claimed Lindsay had stolen her heart – turned her life upside down – and could do the same for Colt. “Hey, I know it’s unconventional, and not what you’ve envisioned all these years of wanting to be a father, but perhaps you could be Lindsay’s new Daddy Dom. You know how much she craves that sort of guidance, that structure, that discipline.”

Colt had to admit with each baby step they’d taken as a trio thus far, everything felt so natural, so right. The toughest challenge was coming to grips with the fact that Pamela’s feelings for Lindsay weren’t a threat to him or their marriage, but rather, a blessing. Once released from those chains of insecurity, Colt concluded that because Pamela was so in love with Lindsay, it strengthened and supported his own marriage with her.

What did it matter that this concept was so wild, so out of left field? How could Colt have two wives? His own wife have a wife of her own? Unconventional? You bet. But all he knew was that Pamela loved Lindsay. And Lindsay loved Pamela. And since these two ladies were welcoming him with open arms, well, this crazy idea just seemed right, and made a lot of sense.

I own and operate a brothel. Unconventional is my middle name. At the concession stand, Colt glanced heavenward for answers. What do you think, Dad? If nothing else, perhaps accepting Lindsay into his and Pamela’s lives would repair the fractures their marriage had endured over the past year. Pamela has been on edge a lot lately, no doubt, but having Lindsay with us full-time would calm her, help her mellow out.

Happy wife, happy life.

Besides, Colt knew he had no choice. Pamela is not going to accept “no” for an answer this time.

As the bottom of the seventh inning got underway with the Orioles trailing 20-1, Colt, Pamela, and Lindsay had been getting teased by foul balls all evening as they landed in their vicinity. Colt had never snagged one during the one hundred or so games he’d gone to either here or at other various ballparks. Catching a foul ball, at least to him, was akin to discovering the holy grail.

A myth.

But then Rio Ruiz of the Orioles came to the plate and took a massive swing on the second pitch from Houston’s Joe Smith.

At first, the ball didn’t appear like it would reach the stands. It was catapulted high into the dark, nighttime sky as if it had been shot out of a cannon. It drifted closer, and Colt’s eyes grew large as almost everyone around them rose to their feet with anticipation.

Colt reached high with his right arm into the sea of hands. A momentary scrum ensued, and soon something smacked his open palm with great velocity. His fingers clenched and, before he knew it, Colt had a little piece of baseball history – Orioles history – in his grasp.

He became a ten-year-old again for a few seconds as he stared at the worn piece of rawhide. Did I catch the damn thing barehanded? Fuck, his hand hurt. And his heart was thumping.

But all was well.

He recalled bringing his glove to games when he was a kid even when he and William sat in the nosebleeds. One night at Dodger Stadium when they had decent seats, Colt came close. But some drunken brute jumped in front of him at a 1990 game and stole the ball that was coming straight for his glove. Colt was furious for three days.

It took forty-five years in total, and twenty-nine since that regretful night, but Colt had hit the jackpot! An older gentleman from behind patted him on the back and offered congratulations. “Nice catch, son! They oughta sign you up – the O’s need all the help they can get!”

Without thinking about it, or paying any attention to the excited buzz in their section, Colt extended the ball toward Lindsay. He wanted it to belong to her.

Lindsay gasped and brought her opposite hand to her mouth, shocked he’d do such a thing. A few innings prior, Colt shared the story from 1990 with Lindsay and how angry it made him. She then commented that she’d snag a foul ball of her own for sure before the night was through.

Lindsay stared at the ball for several seconds as Colt insisted she take it. Pamela had no qualms, uninterested in something so frivolous. Soon, Lindsay accepted, and Colt received a gracious hug for the kind gesture. The whole stadium came alive with applause. Huh?

An instant later, Lindsay saw a young boy, perhaps age ten himself, with his eyes transfixed on the ball. He had his Orioles gear on, too, and a mitt on his left hand, not to mention that look of so close, yet so far away etched across his forlorn face. Colt knew the feeling.

Lindsay locked eyes with the boy.

She then turned and raised a lone brow at Colt.

He smiled and tipped a subtle nod.

Lindsay gave the ball to the young fan.

The crowd erupted with cheers.

As the young fan and his father thanked Lindsay profusely, Colt glanced up and noticed something extraordinary. Oh boy. That was why there was such a decibel roar! All four of them were on the big screen video board beyond center field. Had these past few seconds of their lives been shown to the masses?

The brilliant, glittering image zoomed in on Lindsay, who was so overcome with emotion from making the boy's day that she had to wipe tears from her cheeks. There was no way that she could have continued to hold them in. However, Lindsay had zero idea that she was on the big board. Yet the crowd saw what she had done and gave her a rousing ovation.

That, and because she was a pint-sized hottie not afraid to flaunt her considerable assets in skimpy attire.

Lindsay was confused at all the adulation until Colt pointed toward center field. She glanced out and screamed, embarrassed to be the focal point of the stadium (and thousands of televisions across Maryland and Texas). Would this simple act of human kindness go viral? Lindsay’s ongoing reaction? She buried her face upon Colt’s shoulder, seeking refuge in her own patented way. The crowd laughed uproariously.

Colt comforted Lindsay in his arms and his lips touched hers, a whisper of a kiss as Pamela looked on from the side, her cocoa-brown eyes glazed over, full of adoration, and a soft, unmistakable glow rippling all around her.

<> <> <> <> <>

Ducking in and out of hills, valleys, and ravines, their hike merged with the forest road, so Lindsay and Colt headed up a steep incline, and the gorgeous view of Patapsco State Park took her breath away.

Colt retrieved a waterproof blanket from his backpack and laid it on the grassy knoll next to Cascade Falls.

“Wow, I’m impressed. You’ve come prepared.”

“I’ve done my fair share of hiking, too, you know.”

She nodded. “I have no doubt.” On Sunday afternoon, they parked near the swinging bridge and, as promised, made the trek up to the waterfall. The only thing that’s missing is Pamela. Along the way, Lindsay marveled at enormous oak trees and blueberry bushes. And I thought the scenery out west could never be topped.

“You wait here. Don’t move a muscle,” Colt said an hour earlier in the parking lot, rendering Lindsay motionless – and a little confused – as he hopped out of his Jeep Wrangler and rushed over to the passenger side.

Lindsay tilted her head as he opened the door. “Thank you, kind sir.” She stepped out and admired the landscape. “And thank you for everything this past week. I’ll thank Pamela again, too, once we get back to Fairfax. Including me in your trip to California and paying for my airfare and inviting me into your home here in Maryland was so sweet. You didn’t have to do that. And here I was thinking I’d have to stay at that hotel up in Ambridge you like so much during my week-long break. Again, thank you.”

“Not a problem, my dear. It was our pleasure.”

“So, you must be a Jeep guy. You have a red Wrangler here in Maryland for your home life, I see, and a gray one back in Nevada. Jeeps are cool. I can tell this one is newer. It has all the fancy digital stuff the other one doesn’t.”

“Yes, this one is seven years newer; it’s a 2018. Believe it or not, I’ve owned six Wranglers throughout my lifetime. My first was an eighty-seven when I was your age. It’s a vehicle, for whatever reason, that calls to me.”

“Hmmph. They should make you their spokesperson.”

“They couldn’t afford my rates.”

His throat resonated with two notes of a chuckle and Lindsay felt it right in the center of her chest. It was nice to hear Colt laugh, especially considering how they got off on the wrong foot a year ago. I thought he hated me during my first tour. Lindsay had never been browbeaten like that before and, though everything turned out all right, hoped it would never happen again.

She lifted a shoulder. “I’d say my rates are higher.”

“Ehh, that’s a safe assumption. I love you in the cutoffs, by the way.”

Lindsay’s cheeks colored as she glanced down at her shorts. “Considering what I’m used to, I feel so damn overdressed. Who’d have thought that was possible only wearing a t-shirt and pair of onlypuff cutoffs?”

“Make yourself more comfortable, then. Take them off. Take everything off.”

“Don’t kid around about stuff like that, okay?” Because you know I’ll do it if you tell me to. I don’t care; I’ll strip down right here in public.

Especially if it leads to us eventually fucking.

“I wasn’t kidding.” Colt tossed Lindsay a studious glance and witnessed her turn a darker shade of crimson.

“Seriously? Well, I mean, if you …”

Colt held up a hand. “Hold your horses, cowgirl. I was only kidding.”

Lindsay blew out her cheeks and righted her posture. “Jeeze Louise, I don’t know what to think about you sometimes.” Her nose crinkled. “It’s like you’re this mysterious puzzle, and I can’t solve you. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”

“And how is that different than everything else in your life? You’re quite the whimsical girl.”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not supposed to like you. You’re a married man – married to my best friend, even.”

“I’m not supposed to like you, either, but I do. And this best friend you speak of? My wife? You like her too. In fact, you love her. And Pamela loves you. Oh, does she ever. I hear it every day.” He made a tsk, tsk, tsk sound and grinned. “Quite the little homewrecker, aren’t you?”

Up at the waterfall, Colt’s smile was akin to a warm caress across her cheek. “I’ve enjoyed our day out so far, Lindsay. I enjoyed last night at the ballgame, too, though the Orioles lost.”

Amazed at how relaxed she was around him, especially considering their once-strained interactions, Lindsay said, “Yeah, it’s been fun. When I hike, when I’m out in the wilderness like this, this is my one true happy place.” The sky was clear and the air carried a musky scent mingled with pinewood. Gulls circled above, calling to each other as they flew back and forth. “I could do this all day.”

Where had the person she once was gone? I’m still the same girl who went hiking with Dad every week when I was growing up, aren’t I? The same girl who went to church twice a week and was close with her family. I don’t understand why taking a “different” type of job has alienated me from them. Truth was, Lindsay missed her family much more than she’d let on with Pamela and Colt. Perhaps I should’ve gone home the other night and tried talking to them again. Lindsay’s last contact of any sort with the Anastacio clan was all the way back in December. Maybe it’s at the point now where they’re afraid to approach me the same way I’m afraid to approach them. How many times, after all, had Pamela told her time heals all wounds? We need to meet in the middle and reconcile.

I’d give anything to hike The Clouds-To-Cactus Trail with Dad again. Those day-long excursions – just the two of them – were restorative, fun, and built strength in their father-daughter relationship. Oh, I miss being with Dad so much. Mr. Anastacio loved the outdoors and, much like Lindsay, found peace in nature.

I may never get to hike with him again. …

“Have you ever thought about becoming a forest ranger?” Lindsay was pulled from those sad thoughts as she glanced up, an eyebrow raised, and surveyed Colt as he kept speaking. “I know Pamela is gonna help you later this week with your college application, but instead of majoring in Sociology, I don’t know, perhaps you could try Agriculture instead.” He held both hands out and rolled his shoulders. “I think you’d be a lot happier working outdoors – in nature – down the road instead of being behind a desk. You’d be perfect for a forest ranger job.”

“I never thought of that, but it’s a hell of an idea.” Lindsay produced her smartphone and began searching on the Internet for information. “Is an Agriculture degree required to become a forest ranger? A park ranger?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I’d think something like Agriculture, Engineering, Geology, maybe just plain Science would qualify you.”

“Forestry too.” Lindsay skimmed through an article with her forefinger. “Conservation, even Education. I’ll talk to Pamela and see what she says, come up with a game plan.” She bit her lip. “I love the house, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want to be working there ten years from now.”

“I don’t want you to be working there ten years from now, either.” Lindsay’s eyes again darted up as Colt, his tone soft and considerate, traced the length of his thumb across her bare knee. “You deserve better than that place.”

“But I like what I do.”

“I know you do. But it’s not something you need to be doing long-term.” He pulled a smoked tofu and veggie sandwich, encased in a wrapper, from his backpack and handed it to her. “Girls your age? I always tell them to save up for college tuition and then get the fuck out.” He averted his eyes and grimaced. “But most ignore my advice.”

She took a small bite. “Saving for college or getting the fuck out?”

“Both.”

Lindsay put the sandwich down and turned her whole body to face him.

“Uh-oh. That’s not a good look.”

She fought the urge to smile. There was no place for smiling as she needed to level with him right now, perhaps get a clearer picture of the future, a definitive answer. “Is it true that you and Pamela are thinking of selling the house?”

“It’s been discussed.” He exhaled a breath. “But we’re going to hold off on that for the foreseeable future. Pamela wants to work a while longer.” He sniffed his nose. “I’m not a saint, Lindsay. I’ve been working in our industry for a long, long time, and I want to be doing something different ten years from now myself. I can’t … keep doing this.”

The hurt in Colt’s voice – or was it guilt? – found Lindsay unable to look away from his somber expression.

“I want a family – one, maybe two kids – and to have a regular, everyday job, and lead a normal, simple life. It doesn’t have to be anything extravagant. I mean, whether it’s a son or a daughter, or both, I’d like to, you know, go on hiking trips with them one day like this too.”

Those words resonated; Lindsay’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to speak, but no words came out. Zoinks. The young woman turned and kept her eyes on the horizon, afraid if she were to look at him, tears would start falling. Still, she felt his gaze.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

Honey? Dad always called me “honey.” Lindsay could hear her heart beating in her chest because it was so loud and it took all her willpower not to give in, crawl onto his lap, and hug him.

I’ll go hiking with you whenever you want. This man had done funny things to her insides since the day they met when she had to sit through that grueling interview. He was big and muscular, and Lindsay often wondered if there were some tattoos underneath his linen shirt. I bet there is, and I need to find out. And soon. Her own skin was glowing; it was sensitive, much warmer than the summer temperature warranted. She also recalled Friday night, alone in bed, playing with her vibrator and falling apart with his name on her lips. I squirted like a firehose again.

“Nothing’s wrong, Colt. Nothing … at all.” Her words a whisper, she gulped back an uncomfortable lump in her throat. Wow, this was so unnerving. “I’m hopeful there’s a spot for me in your family too.”

She could feel his grin without needing to see it. “Oh, don’t be silly. What would Pamela and I do without you?”

*

As they traversed back down the wilderness incline, Colt realized he wasn’t doing himself any favors by spending this one-on-one time with Lindsay. Ninety minutes at the waterfall seemed like an eternity. How much longer could he stave off such intense temptation? The more time Colt spent around her, the more her unique mannerisms and characteristics became permanently imprinted on his brain. Like how Lindsay’s lips pursed in the most kissable way when she was concentrating. Or how she would blow out an exaggerated breath whenever she was frustrated. And how perfect her little ass looked in the denim when she was climbing over a large tree trunk.

That vision had to be the most endearing of all.

A tiny voice inside his brain reminded him of all the reasons this was a bad idea.

Lindsay was too young. She was still recovering from a toxic relationship. She made Colt do things, feel things, and forget things that he shouldn’t.

Your wife.

Acting on his desires, on his urges, on his impulses was wrong, so why in the hell did it feel like it would be so right? Pamela texted me earlier and said she wouldn’t have any objections if I had sex with Lindsay during our hike. Frustration and uncertainty battled with his arousal. And he hated it. Colt was so accustomed to being in control at all times, but he had zero control over the feelings Lindsay inspired in him – and the constant prodding from Pamela concerning the matter. Fuck her for me … a direct quote.

His own wife texted him that!

Beside him, Colt noticed Lindsay struggling with her footing.

“We can take a break if you like,” he suggested for the third time as they slowly made their way down the trail.

She inhaled a steady breath and closed her eyes. When Lindsay opened them, there was a steely resolve in her gaze. Squaring her jaw, she shifted the strap of her backpack up higher on her shoulder. “I’m fine.”

Colt shook his head and they forged on.

He’d never been more thankful for the Lasik procedure he had done in 2017 that afforded him twenty/twenty vision. Keeping an eye on Lindsay for her safety seemed far more essential than any explicit notions with each passing second. And in the process, Colt realized something. The instant she noticed he was watching her, Lindsay would put up a façade that hid any discomfort she may be experiencing. It happened so seamlessly that Colt tested his theory several times before he was convinced he was correct.

While alternating between blatantly staring in her direction and casting covert glances, Colt concluded that Lindsay was struggling. Isn’t she supposed to be this expert, seasoned hiker? Of course, Lindsay wasn’t complaining. She barely said a dozen words since they left the waterfall and half of those were to inform him that she was fine. Yet her body language suggested otherwise.

Her breathing was labored, her skin glistened with perspiration, and the strain of the backpack was evident by her posture and form. Despite all that, he could see in her demeanor that she was going to go the distance and sure wouldn’t complain about it.

“At least let me carry your bag.”

“No.”

This girl was tough. She was strong. She was determined.

And stubborn.

Damn, she really is morphing into the second coming of Pamela like Jim says. But another troublesome thought dawned on Colt and gave him pause. Is her pain from something else? Had she hurt herself during a party, with a monger, and kept quiet about it? Seeing her now reminds me of when Pamela injured her back last summer.

“Truth or dare.”

Colt’s eyes dilated in trepidation as he glanced her way. What? We’re speaking again? “Truth.”

Lindsay’s gaze never left the trail. Her words were cool and collected as she asked the question that she’d been wondering about since the possibility of a triad first came to fruition in June. “What do you think about having a baby with me? Not now, but in the future?”

The sun was high in the sky as they emerged from the vast, pined forest and into a temporary clearing. “Aww, hell. You know what? I don’t want to play.”

“Why do you always do that?” More than a twinge of anger laced Lindsay’s voice. “Gosh darn it, Colt, there are times I feel like I’m walking through a minefield when I’m with you. Seriously, you insinuate one thing, and a minute later, it’s something else. You’re so hard to read. One wrong step, it seems, and it could be game over for me.”

“It’s so easy for you to say that, Lindsay. But you don’t know what it’s like to be me, to be in my shoes. I’ve been trying to convince Pamela to have a baby for the past five years, yet she keeps deflecting, keeps putting it off. There is nothing more I want in this world than to finally be a father, but I want it with Pamela, and Pamela only. Yet here you are throwing out silly little comments – ignorant comments – like they mean nothing. You get these … flights of fancy, and it drives me up the fucking wall.”

“Did you just call me ignorant?” Her hands dropped to her sides to form clenched fists.

“Oh, you’re young, and the thought is so casual, it’s so flimsy. Do you have any idea of the responsibility, the enormity, it takes to have a child? To be a parent? The commitment? How can you? You’re only nineteen. You can’t even balance your weekly budget yet, for Christ’s sake!” Colt’s deep voice vibrated long and far. “And you’re asking if I want to have a baby with you?” His expression grew turbulent. “Good God, woman. You and I haven’t had our first kiss yet.” With that, Colt stampeded down the trail. “So fucking immature! Why do I even bother?”

“Colt!” Lindsay stopped dead in her tracks. She tried to speak again but huffed out a shaky breath first. “Colt, wait. I said not now, but in the future! I’m sorry if I’m going too fast. See, that’s the thing. I don’t know what I’m doing. I care about Pamela so much, and I care about you too. You have no idea how much. But I’m scared of hurting one of you, maybe both of you, and ruining any chance we have of being together. I know I’m young, but I’m trying. I really, really am. And we kissed at the baseball game!” She heard her voice squeak and held out her hands as if her heart was breaking. “Didn’t we?”

Colt turned around. “What are you talking about? That wasn’t a kiss; it was a friendly little peck.”

“It was a kiss to me.” Lindsay shook her head. “I’ve already talked to Pamela about this and she said she’d be in favor of it. If things work out and we all get married one day, I mean, wouldn’t you want to have a baby with me? I’d want one with you. A few, even. I don’t think it’s that crazy of a question for me to ask. I wouldn’t deflect you the way Pamela has, either.” Lindsay studied the earth before again raising her gaze. “I know you may not believe me, but I don’t want to be a whore forever. I come from a big family, you know, and I certainly miss them, but I want my own family one day too. I want what was ripped away from me, taken from me. What I was robbed of. I want it more than anything, and I want it with you and Pamela. I assure you, this is no flight of fancy on my part. Look, I’m sorry; I know I need to grow up more. I’m so sorry.”

Colt stared at her, his eyes full of chaos. But he didn’t say anything, and that was all the response Lindsay needed.

She whipped her smartphone out and began typing with conviction. “Okay, then. Fuck this. Thank you for going hiking with me today. Send my regards to Pamela. I guess I’ll queue up an Uber and stay at a hotel tonight. Hopefully, I make it to the airport in the morning on time. Though, I have no idea what I’ll do about my fucking luggage.”

“Ask me again.”

A tear streaked down Lindsay’s cheek as vengeful eyes flashed up. “What?”

“The game. Ask me again.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Yes.”

Lindsay sniffed. “Fine. Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

Lindsay hesitated for an instant before swishing her hand through her long, silken ponytail bundled by an elastic band. The strands were a brilliant, golden blonde and fell to the midway point of her back. “Kiss me.”

This time, Colt left zero doubt. He made a beeline and didn’t stop until his lips were on Lindsay’s with his arms encircling her torso, reeling her in. Their mouths came together in such a natural, wonderful way; not too fast, not too timid, but easy, relaxing, fitting. They each borrowed a moment to allow the significance of their intimacy to sink in. Lindsay lifted on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. His thumbs caressed her jawline as he kissed her with gentle authority. Lindsay allowed him to set the pace. No matter how much pent-up desire raged to be set free within him, Colt kept the kiss slow and languid. Exploratory and considerate.

But he could only contain himself for so long, and soon the kiss intensified, and Lindsay relished the warmth of their combined heat. Breaths shared more often than stolen, became shallow. His arms tightened as her body writhed against his. This was the moment she had been fantasizing about for so, so long, and it lived up to every expectation.

But just as quickly as it had started, the kiss was over. Colt held Lindsay’s face in his hands. His breathing was heavy and he stared into her eyes.

“I want things to work out for us too,” he said. “You, me, Pamela, I do. Believe me, I do.” His thumb stroked Lindsay’s cheek and swiped over her lips. “And I want to make all your dreams, sweetheart, all your aspirations come true … but in due time. It would be my honor. But you must realize that these things won’t happen right away.” He turned, not allowing her a response.

*

Struck, mesmerized, and dumbfounded by what had just transpired, Lindsay stood there motionless, rooted to the grass. With two fingers touching her still swollen lips, she relived the kiss she would be up all night thinking about. Because that was the type of kiss you didn’t forget. It was the kiss you compared all other kisses to for the rest of your life. The kind that left you wanting so much more yet satisfied you immensely at the same damn time.

Fuck me now.

Acting on her own impulses, Lindsay raised her hands and explored Colt’s powerful, rugged back and she found herself rubbing her entire body against him like a cat against a scratching board. Fuck me, dammit! An intense need swirled through her and multiplied exponentially. Lindsay wanted to feel more of this man. She wanted to touch every inch of his body. Her hands drifted lower, sought the waistband of his shorts, and began tugging.

He took a step away and turned to face her.

Lindsay stared at him, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Read his signals wrong.

“Before we go any further, I need to be one hundred percent certain that you want to do this.” His chest rose and fell in anguished breaths. “This isn’t the brothel and I’m not a client. This is real, it’s different, and a major, major step. Let’s not cross any lines that we can’t come back from.” He tilted his head. “Do you really want to do this?”

“God, Colt, yes. Don’t you too?”

Instead of offering a verbal answer, Colt shoved his chinos down and stepped out of them, revealing just how much he wanted this too.

His dick was bigger and thicker than anyone she’d been with in the past (and that was saying something). It appeared to be growing even larger under her watchful stare, too, twitching and jumping about, demanding her attention. It had it. As did the rest of his body.

Lindsay allowed herself to take in the chiseled expanse of Colt’s shoulders, arms, chest, and abdomen. Tingles of desire cascaded through her as she nudged closer and traced the lines of his frame. Lazy fingers caressed his collarbone, the swell of his shoulder and bicep. She took her time, cataloging every inch of the forty-five-year-old’s upper body before circling him, slowly, pausing at his wide, muscled back.

His breaths were coming more rapidly as she laid the palms of her hands flush against his shoulder blades. We need to get you out of that shirt, for sure. She stepped closer and peppered the exposed portion of his neck with kisses, loving the way his whole body shuddered.

Her fingers ran over Colt’s rippled abs until the tip of his erection bobbed up and brushed her wrist. Batter up! Slowly, she crouched like a baseball catcher in front of him and coiled her hand around his shaft. I’m going to blow you off right here in the park where anyone – whether it be a hiker or a family of four – could stumble across us at any moment. His dick pulsed in her grasp, setting off fireworks in her body. Let’s give whomever it is the show of a lifetime. Lindsay never imagined she could be this turned on perched in front of a man, fully clothed, preparing to give him pleasure. Kenzie and Scarlett weren’t lying when they said that you’re hung like a horse.

Colt stared down at her, an intoxicating mixture of sensuality, dominance, and vulnerability that Lindsay found irresistible as passion raged in his milk chocolate eyes. He lifted an arm to wipe his brow and she couldn’t help but notice the tattoos on his bicep, and an electric current of desire slammed into her. OhmiGod. I bet he has tattoos all over his chest too! Colt’s dark hair was short but still held a slight wave. He had a defined jaw sprinkled with a sexy scruff that gave his all-American good looks a dangerous edge that aroused Lindsay even further.

She promptly launched an all-out oral assault on his unsuspecting, but thankful cock. Lindsay licked and stroked and sucked and licked again like an expert. Colt’s feelings still confused him. A slash of desire tightened his gut as he realized this new forbidden romance he had taken on with an oversexed teenager to complement his bombshell bride was going to be quite a monumental challenge to physically (let alone mentally) pull off.

Lindsay looked up at Colt’s fierce face and saw delight in his eyes, and the delight made her hands slide beneath the hem of her t-shirt and pull it up and over her head, revealing a white lace bra. Her hair fell over her face and down her shoulders as she released the clasp in the center of her chest and bared the plump, round mounds of her breasts, which were topped by dark pink, stiff peaks.

Yet the desperation within her demanded that she move forward, and faster, faster, faster. She bowed her head and took Colt’s cock into her hungry mouth yet again.

“Lindsay, sweetheart.” His hand went to her head, stroking her hair and tangling in the thick spools. “Oh, that’s good. Oh, Lindsay. My God, sweetheart.”

She sucked harder, deeper, her cheeks drawing inward as she bobbed back and forth with rapid-fire movements.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, gulping his throat.

“Good. This isn’t meant to make you last. I want your cum, and I want it now.”

Without warning, Lindsay changed things up, gripping his dick and cocooning the swell of her breasts around it.

Surrounded by soft, warm flesh, Colt was spiraling out of control as his cock accelerated between the slippery vise of her cleavage. Lindsay’s ponytail ricocheted on her shoulder and she titty-fucked him with all the force and vigor she could muster. She made certain his dick stayed imprisoned, too, her hands applying maximum pressure.

“I want your cum.” Lindsay’s voice was coarse with possession as she dropped a fresh string of spit into her cleavage. “Give it to me.”

She bounced harder. Adrenaline exploded deep within Colt’s core and refused to subside. His heart zoomed into supersonic speed.

Lindsay’s eyes remained locked and loaded as she guided him to the precipice, continuing to deposit fresh spittle every five to seven seconds. When he grabbed at her, clawing to keep hold of his sanity, the luscious embrace of cleavage disappeared but was replaced by her mouth.

“I said give it to me!”

Colt roared out and held Lindsay’s head so tight that the veins strained in his forearms. Filthy sounds of throat fucking filled the calm air. His cock spasmed into her mouth and Lindsay felt, and tasted, the fruits of her labor. She didn’t pull back. She didn’t even flinch. Lindsay steadied herself and kept her lips sealed as Colt’s hips bucked on sheer impulse, her spit-covered fist milking away, and she vacuumed up everything he had to offer.

Lindsay purred with triumph once the cascade of semen reached its conclusion and withdrew her head from Colt’s dick, her hands still latched around his hips. Her eyes sparkled for a beat before she spread her lips wide, showcasing a thick pool of sperm resting atop her tongue and in her mouth. Colt closed his eyes and summoned a deep breath, holding it in, and looked heavenward.

Lindsay smiled and let the gooey mess funnel down the back of her throat. I wish I could suck all my mongers off without a condom, too, and swallow their cum. And when she popped her lips open seconds later with an exaggerated sound, joy overtook Lindsay’s features, and she demonstrated to Colt that her mouth was empty.

“Jesus Christ,” he said.

Lindsay stood and crushed her mouth to his, entering his mouth with her incessant tongue, exploring every inch of its wet, rugged recesses. Colt groaned at the initial contact, the kiss reigniting his fire within. She broke it off long enough to say, “I want this, Colt. I’m not going to deflect you. I want to have your babies.”

“Fuck,” he rasped.

She grinned and her eyes twinkled. “Yes, please. …”

(End of Chapter Twenty-Seven - to be continued)