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I can't wait to try the new bed.
The guys knocked out enough walls that the new apartment's going to be more than twice as big, which is good if all four of us are going to live here. Taking tips from some of the other groups in the club, we've made one master bedroom with a bed big enough for the four of us to enjoy ourselves and sleep in there, but also some separate bedrooms for the nights where we might want a little time on our own, or if someone isn't feeling good or whatever. The living room's big, with huge windows—and those blinds you can pull up from both top and bottom so we can limit visibility into the apartment, if necessary. The coffee table is also built sturdy enough to hold the weight of multiple people. Scrapper made sure of that.
The kitchen has enough seating for all of us to eat, and top of the line appliances. The bathroom has both a hot tub and a shower with multiple heads and room for four. I'm not sure what I did to deserve all this luxury, but apparently it involves getting taken in by some sexy bikers.
Seriously, though. The real fantasy I'm living here is a fancy apartment in the city with affordable rent.
I've taken over filming duties for the FixerUppers account, and while I think a lot of viewers are hoping for more sledgehammers and less painting and hammering, as long as the guys do it shirtless, we're not exactly getting complaints. As soon as we're done with this apartment, they’ll start working on the one upstairs, and be back to knocking out walls in no time.
Now that the boys and me definitely have become a thing, something a lot more permanent than just fooling around, I was worried that I'd be jealous about their screen time, but no. Because I know that they're mine, and no one's going to get between us. All the ladies out there can drool over them all they want, but I'm the one they dick down in every possible position at every possible occasion.
I'm the luckiest girl in the world, so this account is really just my chance to brag a little.
“Come on, Mack, let's see you work the flex, huh? Give the ladies a show.” The look I get in return is skeptical, but it's Reaper who steps up to take the phone away from me.
“Hey, give that back. It's still recording!”
He turns the phone on me. “It's a little unfair that only the girls get a show. The videographer is a real cutie too.” He pauses, thinks about it for a sec, then turns the phone on himself. “That said, we will straight up murder anyone who fucks with her, just so that's clear. Look, but no touch, no contact, no stalking, no fucking anything.” With his free hand, he makes a V with his index and long finger, then points the V at his eyes and at the screen a couple times, a classic, “I've got my eyes on you,” gesture.
“Reaper! You can't threaten to kill our audience!”
“Just setting expectations.” He holds out his hand, indicating for me to come over to him. I do and he pulls me into his arms so we're looking at the phone together. “And maybe making a few fans a little jealous, know what I mean?”
“I'm actually not sure what you mean.” Or at least I wasn't, until his hand slides up my side to cup my breast through my tank top. I've got a sports bra underneath, so it's not like I'm showing anything, but still. “Reaper!”
“Look at me.” The order is clear, and I do, just in time for him to plant his lips on mine and start kissing me senseless. And I can't help it. I kiss him back. How could I not? Like every time, his demanding kiss sends tingles racing through me.
“This a private party?” Scrapper presses himself into the picture, and the moment I come up for air, he cups my chin so he can guide my mouth to his. And then my brain overflows with endorphins for a second time in like thirty seconds, because it's the kind of kiss you start and by the time you finish you're somehow naked and putty in his hands.
Reaper takes a step aside, keeping the phone on us, despite my glare, making room for Mack to take his turn. I get on my tippy toes while he hooks his big hands at the small of my back and presses me against him. As I crane my neck for the kiss, it's impossible not to notice a prominent part of him pressing against my stomach. He's hard as steel. I rub against him while we kiss and I'm rewarded by a throaty moan right into my mouth.
When we pull apart, my thundering heart is having me breathe heavy. I glance at the camera, and we don't exactly have the numbers we did during the siege of Channel 7, but definitely a lot more than usual. “Um… I'm pretty sure we're starting to stretch the limits of the terms and conditions for the service. I don't want to get us banned just because you guys… um…” I know what I want to say, but not sure I want to say it on camera.
“You're gonna disappoint so many viewers if we turn it off right now,” says Scrapper with a little laugh. He's pressing against my back, at least as hard as Mack, and his hand trailing slowly up my side, taking my tank top with it. “Come on, reach behind and open my fly. I dare you.”
Reaper comes closer with the phone. “I'd fucking love to have you on video. Sometimes you're not home, and having you to jerk myself off to would be almost as good as the real thing. You could be my fucking porn star.”
“What? I'm not?—”
“Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence,” breathes Mack into my ear, just loud enough that the phone's probably picking it up. “I can't think of anyone more beautiful than you, and I can think of a lot of fucking people.”
“But—”
“Baby, if we haven't convinced you by now that you're the only damn woman for us, scars and all, we're just gonna have to try even harder,” Scrapper says, then flicks my earlobe with his tongue. “You know where I'd rather have this buried right now?”
Our account is so going to get banned. Thousands of people are watching the boys convincing me to do some really naughty things, and there's no way we're not going to get reported.
“It's our first day in the new place, with a new bed,” muses Reaper as he hooks his curled index finger under my chin and forces me to look up at him. His gold-flecked ambers draw me in like a predator freezing his prey. “I think it's time we start christening the rooms.”
“I…”
They maneuver me where they want me, like puppet masters making their doll walk where they want her. The bedroom was finished a couple days ago—they insisted on it being the first room, “just in case.” It's furnished, the bed is made, with nightstands and a big mirror on the wall at the end of the bed. While I appreciate it, I'm pretty sure the guys had very clear ideas about its placement.
And to be honest, it's not like I'm unaffected by watching the guys do physical work all day either, even if it's through the phone camera for the enjoyment of our viewers. I'd been hoping for a break. Just maybe not live streamed.
But then Mack sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me against his broad chest, making me straddle his powerful hips. He cups my jaw and pulls me in for the kind of kiss that whole novels are written about. His thick beard tickles my face, soft and smooth. I slide my fingers into it, letting it run between my fingers as I kiss him back as hard as I can. I'm barely caring about the camera anymore.
Bracing my knees against the bed, I rise up and grab both sides of Mack's head while I keep kissing. It gives him room to lift my tank top all the way up to under my arms. He nudges, and I let him lift it over my head. Scrapper leans into me from behind, placing kisses on my shoulder and neck. Then he starts pulling my bra up.
