Chapter 6: The Cocoa and the Glamour
The cocoa was getting cold.
Jan carried three mugs up the stairs, Godfrey III tucked under one arm like a furry football, his tiny body limp with sleep. The Maltese didn't stir. He never stirred when Jan was on a mission. Some things transcended reincarnation.
The hallway was quiet. Most of the others had claimed spots on the first floor—couches, air mattresses, the big sectional in the den. Fatima and Hank had taken the guest room. Rebecca and Charlie were in Rick's old room, which still had the faded glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.
But Jan knew where Mandy would be.
She pushed open the door to Mandy's childhood bedroom with her hip and stopped.
Calista was already there, sitting cross-legged on the bed in a thin tank top and sleep shorts, her silver hair loose around her shoulders. Mandy lay beside her, still dressed in the rumpled clothes she'd worn on the flight, her face pale and drawn in the lamplight.
"You look like shit," Jan said.
"Thanks," Mandy muttered. "You're a real comfort."
"I'm serious. When's the last time you slept?"
Mandy opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"That's what I thought." Jan set the cocoa on the nightstand and deposited Godfrey at the foot of the bed. The Maltese immediately curled into a ball and went back to sleep. "You're going to bed."
"I'm not a child."
"No, you're a twenty-three-year-old woman who's been running on adrenaline and caffeine for the better part of two days. You're useless right now. You know it. I know it. Even Calista knows it."
Calista nodded solemnly. "I know it."
Mandy glared at her sister.
"Don't gang up on me."
"We're not ganging up on you," Jan said. "We're taking care of you. There's a difference." She sat on the edge of the bed and fixed Mandy with a look that had made stronger women than her wilt. "When's the last time you ate something that wasn't a protein bar?"
"I had a sandwich at the airport."
"That was eight hours ago."
"I'm not hungry."
"You're not anything. You're running on fumes and guilt and sheer stubbornness, and that's not a good look on anyone." Jan's voice softened. "You need to sleep, Bug."
The nickname hit Mandy like a slap.
Jan never called her Bug. That was her parents' name for her. Her dad's, mostly. He'd called her Bug since she was three years old—some nonsense about how she'd crawl around the living room looking for bugs under the furniture, her chubby little hands grabbing at dust bunnies.
But Jan had picked it up over the years. Only when she was serious. Only when she was worried.
"I can't sleep," Mandy said. "Every time I close my eyes, I see Shiv. I see her face when they took her. I see—"
She stopped. Swallowed.
"I know," Jan said. "But you're not going to help her by running yourself into the ground. You're not going to help anyone."
"I could be researching. I could be looking for patterns in the Consortium's movements. I could be—"
"You could be sleeping."
"I could be useful."
"You could be resting."
Mandy's jaw tightened.
"I don't need to rest. I need to find her."
"And you will." Jan reached out and took her hand. "But not tonight. Tonight, you need to sleep. And eat something. And stop beating yourself up for something that wasn't your fault."
"It was my fault. I should have—"
"You should have what? Known they were waiting? Known they had a trap set up? Known the sirens were there?" Jan shook her head. "You're not psychic, Mandy. You're smart. You're capable. You're one of the most competent people I know. But you're not omnipotent."
Mandy looked away.
"I should have at least told Rick," she said quietly. "I was so focused on Shiv that I didn't even think to tell him what was going on. He's her family too. He deserved to know."
Jan nodded slowly.
"That's a good point," she said.
"I know."
"So you're going to bed."
"Jan—"
"Bed." Jan stood and pulled back the covers. "You're too wired and too tired to be of much use. And you're not going to help anyone by staying up all night staring at a laptop screen."
Mandy wanted to argue.
She wanted to point out that she'd been running her own business for over a year now, that she'd solved problems her parents couldn't, that she was an adult who could make her own decisions about when to sleep and when to work.
But the truth was, she was exhausted. Bone-deep, soul-crushing exhaustion that made her thoughts sluggish and her reactions slow. She'd been running on adrenaline since the warehouse, since the sirens, since watching Shiv get pulled through that portal.
And she hadn't eaten anything substantial in hours.
And her eyes felt like sandpaper.
And she missed Ben. And Jess. And the simple comfort of being held.
"Fine," she said.
Jan smiled.
"Good girl."
"I'm not a dog."
"You're my honorary niece. It's close enough."
Calista scooted over on the bed, making room.
"I'll stay with her," she said. "I know you were going to put me in my old room, but—"
"You want to stay here."
"I want to stay here."
Jan looked at both of them—Mandy, still rumpled and wired, and Calista, already settling into the pillows like she belonged there.
"Alright," she said. "But I'm coming back to check on you. And if I find out you've been on your phone instead of sleeping, I'll turn you into a toad."
"You can't turn people into toads."
"I can make you wish I had."
Jan left the room, closing the door behind her.
Mandy sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the familiar walls. The glow-in-the-dark stars were still there, faded but visible. The poster of some band she'd loved in high school was peeling at the corners. The bookshelf still held a collection of fantasy novels and programming manuals, arranged with no apparent logic.
Her childhood bedroom.
She hadn't lived here in years. Not since she'd moved to Miami, not since she'd started Williamson IT Solutions, not since she'd become the competent, unflappable woman everyone expected her to be.
But it still felt like home.
"I used to stay up late," she said. "When I was in high school."
Calista was quiet, listening.
"Beth and I would talk for hours. About everything. Music. Movies. Boys. Girls. The meaning of life. Whether or not the cafeteria meatloaf was actually made of meat." Mandy smiled at the memory. "She thought it was tofu. I thought it was sawdust."
"You were probably both right."
"Probably."
Mandy reached over and picked up a small figurine from her nightstand—a little dragon made of pewter, its wings spread, its mouth open in a silent roar. She'd bought it at a Renaissance fair when she was fourteen.
"Remember when Mai moved in?" she asked.
"The naked thing?"
"The naked thing." Mandy laughed. "Dad was so flustered. He'd be making breakfast, and Mai would just wander through the kitchen in nothing, grabbing a banana like it was the most natural thing in the world."
"Mom thought it was hilarious."
"Mom thought it was the best thing that ever happened. She kept trying to get Dad to look, and Dad kept staring at the ceiling like he was hoping God would come down and save him."
"Did he ever get used to it?"
"Never. Not once. Even after months, he'd still blush and stutter and find excuses to leave the room." Mandy set the dragon back down. "It was kind of sweet, actually. His dedication to looking anywhere but at her tits."
Calista laughed—soft and warm.
"I remember the first time you snuck Ben in," she said.
Mandy groaned.
"Don't."
"Through the window. At two in the morning."
"Don't."
"You thought you were so sneaky."
"I was sneaky."
"Mand, the whole house knew." Calista's voice was gentle but amused. "The walls are thin. Dad's office is right below your room. The second he started hearing rhythmic thumping and muffled moaning, he knew exactly what was happening."
Mandy buried her face in her hands.
"He called it "The Saturday Night Parade," and would go to the store for milk whenever it happened."
"Oh god."
"Mom thought it was cute. She said it reminded her of when she and Dad were young."
"I'm going to die of embarrassment."
"You're not. You're just tired." Calista nudged her shoulder. "Come on. Strip down and get in bed."
Mandy looked at her sister.
Calista looked back.
"I always sleep in the nude," Calista said. "You know that."
"I know."
"So move."
Mandy hesitated for a moment, then stood and pulled off her shirt. Her bra followed. She kicked off her shoes and socks, then shimmied out of her jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor.
Standing there in just her underwear, she felt exposed.
Not physically—Calista had seen her naked before. They'd grown up together, shared a bathroom, walked around in towels and underwear more times than Mandy could count.
But vulnerable.
The thin cotton of her bra barely contained the slight swell of her breasts, and her plain gray underwear did nothing to hide the curve of her hips or the slight pooch of her belly. She was ordinary. Perfectly, painfully ordinary.
Calista, by contrast, was not.
When Calista stood and pulled off her tank top, Mandy watched.
She couldn't help it.
Calista's body was a study in contradictions. Ethereal and earthy. Elegant and animal. Her breasts were small but perfectly shaped, her nipples pale pink against alabaster skin. Her waist was narrow, her hips gently curved, her legs impossibly long.
She was beautiful.
And she was stepping out of her shorts now, revealing the smooth expanse of her stomach, the delicate line of her hips, the small triangle of silver hair between her legs.
Mandy looked away.
"What?" Calista asked.
"Nothing."
"You were staring."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
Mandy climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.
"I was not staring," she said. "I was... observing. There's a difference."
"If you say so."
"I do say so."
Calista slid into bed beside her, her body warm and soft and entirely too close.
"You know you're beautiful too, right?" she said.
Mandy snorted.
"I know I'm not ugly."
"You're not."
"I'm also not a supermodel like you, or generally sexy like Jess, or even girl-next-door cute like Beth."
Calista frowned.
"That's not true."
"It is true. I'm a bit flat chested. My hair is always a mess. I have the kind of face that nobody ever looks at twice." Mandy shrugged. "I'm fine with it. I've made peace with being the plain one."
"You're not the plain one."
"I'm the ordinary one. That's okay. Someone has to be."
The door creaked open.
Jan stood in the doorway, Godfrey III in her arms, her green eyes sharp despite the late hour.
"What's this about being ordinary?" she asked.
Mandy groaned.
"Nothing."
"It didn't sound like nothing."
"It's nothing."
Jan walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, depositing Godfrey on the pillow. The Maltese immediately rolled over and went back to sleep.
"Mandy," Jan said. "You were looking at Calista like she was a goddess on earth."
"I was not."
"You were. And then you started putting yourself down. Which means you were comparing yourself to her. Which means you were feeling inadequate."
"I wasn't feeling—"
"You were. Don't lie to me. I've known you since you were in diapers."
Mandy sighed.
"Fine. She's gorgeous. I'm ordinary. It's not a big deal."
"It is a big deal." Jan's voice was soft but firm. "Because you're beautiful in your own way, Mandy. You always have been. You just don't see it."
"I see it fine."
"You see your flaws. You see everything that doesn't measure up to some impossible standard. But you don't see what everyone else sees."
"And what's that?"
Jan reached out and touched Mandy's forehead, her fingers warm.
"Hold still."
Mandy froze.
She felt something—a warmth that spread through her body like honey, slow and sweet. It wasn't arousal, not exactly. It was... peace. Contentment. A sense that everything was going to be okay.
"What did you do?" she asked.
"A little Green Moon serenity," Jan said. "Something to calm your mind."
Mandy felt her muscles relax. Her jaw, which had been clenched for days, finally loosened. Her shoulders dropped. Her breathing slowed.
"That's... nice," she admitted.
"It is nice."
Calista, lying beside her, felt the magic wash over her too. And something else—her own Glamour, the elfin power that lived in her blood, responding to the Green Moon serenity like a flame responding to wind.
She felt her arousal spike.
And, because her Glamour worked the way it did, she felt Mandy's spike too.
The air in the room changed. Became warmer. Heavier. Smelled faintly of honey and something else—something musky and sweet and entirely too intimate.
Mandy's nipples hardened against her thin cotton bra.
She felt it happen. Felt the tight buds tighten further, felt the fabric rub against them with every small movement.
"Calista," she said.
"What?"
"Your Glamour."
"I know."
"It's..."
"I know."
Jan looked between them—Mandy flushed and breathing faster, Calista golden-eyed and smiling.
"I should have seen this coming," Jan said. "Green Moon serenity plus elfin Glamour. That's a recipe for trouble."
"I'm not trying to do it," Calista said. "It just happens."
"It happens when you're aroused."
"You don't get aroused from being nice to me."
"No. But I get aroused when you look at me like that."
Mandy stared at her.
"Like what?"
"Like you want to touch me."
Mandy's face burned.
"I don't—"
"You do. It's okay." Calista reached out and touched her cheek. "I look at you the same way. I look at you."
Jan smirked.
"This is probably going to get someone in a lot of trouble," she said.
Then she stood and pulled off her shirt.
Mandy watched, frozen, as Jan undressed. The older woman was unselfconscious, comfortable in her body in a way Mandy envied. Jan wasn't thin. She wasn't toned. She was soft and round and real, her breasts heavy, her belly curved.
She was beautiful.
And she was sliding into bed beside Mandy, her warm body pressed against Mandy's side.
The door opened again.
Casey stood in the doorway, a mug of cocoa in each hand. Her eyes went wide.
Her body responded before her brain caught up.
She felt it—a heat that started in her chest and spread downward, a tightening in her nipples, a slickness between her legs.
She saw Mandy in her thin cotton bra, nipples hard and visible. She saw Calista naked, silver hair loose, golden eyes bright. She saw Jan in the middle, her hand resting on Mandy's bare stomach.
She saw her daughters.
Her daughters.
And she was turned on.
"What—" Casey started.
"What's taking so long?" Mike appeared behind her, his voice curious.
He looked over her shoulder.
And his cock went hard instantly.
The sight of his wife, silhouetted in the doorway, staring at their daughters and Jan in bed together—it should have been wrong. It was wrong. But it was also the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
Casey set the mugs down on the dresser.
She said nothing.
She pulled her shirt over her head.
Mandy watched her mother undress.
She should have looked away. She should have said something. She should have done anything except stare.
But she didn't.
She watched Casey peel off her jeans, revealing sturdy legs and practical underwear. She watched Casey unhook her bra, revealing breasts that had nursed three children, that had been touched and kissed and loved for decades. She watched Casey step out of her underwear and stand there, naked, unashamed.
Calista's hand slid up Mandy's thigh.
Mandy let out a ragged breath.
"Mandy," Casey said, her voice gentle but firm. "You need to go to bed."
"I'm in bed."
"Your own bed. Your old bed. Not this one."
"I don't understand."
"I don't understand," Mandy said again, her voice smaller this time.
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Casey stood naked in the doorway, and she wasn't making sense. None of this was making sense. Mandy's brain—the same brain that had built a successful IT business from scratch, that had memorized the schematics of every major server architecture in the Chicago area, that could recite the periodic table backward and forward—was short-circuiting.
She was in her old bed.
Her mother was standing naked in her room.
Yes, there had been sex parties in the Horny House. Jan hosted them. Everyone knew. At a certain point, after Mandy turned eighteen, her parents had stopped sending her to spend the night at a friend's house when Jan came to visit. Mandy had felt included. She'd understood that the adults were doing adult things, and she'd been welcome to join or not join, no pressure either way.
And Calista's Glamour tended to arouse folks. That was just a fact. The elf girl couldn't help it. When she got excited, everyone in a fifty-foot radius got excited. It was like standing next to a space heater. You either moved away or accepted that you were going to sweat.
But this was Glamour plus Green Moon magic.
This was Calista's elfin arousal magic mixing with Jan's serenity spell, and the combination was doing something to everyone in the room. Something potent. Something that made Mandy's skin feel too tight and her thoughts feel too slow.
Whatever had happened with Jan, Mike, Casey, and Calista over the years—and things had definitely happened, Mandy wasn't stupid—was something none of them would regret. But all of them would probably agree it was a weird thing that happened when magic mixed together. Like a chemical reaction in a lab. You combined the right elements, and you got something unexpected.
Right now, Mandy didn't care.
She didn't care about the weirdness. She didn't care about the implications. She didn't care about the fact that her mother was naked and her father was about to walk through the door and her sister's hand was still on her thigh, fingers tracing small circles on the sensitive skin just below the hem of her underwear.
She didn't care about anything except the heat building in her belly.
"Mom," she said.
Casey blinked.
"Yeah, Bug?"
"Would you like to join us?"
The words came out before Mandy could stop them. Before she could think about what she was saying or how it would sound or what it would mean.
Casey stared at her.
Jan stared at her.
Calista's fingers stopped moving.
The silence stretched for one heartbeat. Two. Three.
Then Mike kicked the door shut.
The sound was loud in the quiet room—a sharp crack that made everyone jump. He stood there, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. He looked like a man who had walked into a room expecting one thing and found something else entirely.
"Mike," Casey said.
"Yeah."
"You're staring."
"Yeah."
"You're staring at our daughters."
"Yeah." He swallowed hard. "I know."
Mandy should have been horrified. She should have been embarrassed. She should have pulled the covers up to her chin and demanded that everyone leave so she could pretend this had never happened.
Instead, she felt herself smiling.
Not a nervous smile. Not an awkward smile. A real one. The kind of smile that came from somewhere deep in her chest, somewhere that had been locked up tight since Shiv disappeared.
"It's okay, Dad," she said. "You can join too."
Mike made a sound that was somewhere between a choke and a laugh.
"Bug—"
"I'm serious." She sat up, letting the covers fall to her waist. Her nipples were still hard against her bra, and she didn't bother trying to hide them. "We're all adults. We're all consenting. And I really, really need to stop thinking for a while."
Casey moved first.
She crossed the room in three strides and climbed onto the bed, her body pressing against Mandy's side. Her skin was warm. She smelled like soap and something floral—lavender, maybe, or jasmine.
"You're sure?" she asked.
"I'm sure."
"You're not just saying that because of the magic?"
"I'm saying it because of the magic and because I want to." Mandy met her mother's eyes. "Both things can be true."
Casey looked at her for a long moment.
Then she leaned in and kissed her forehead.
"Okay," she said. "Okay."
Mike was still standing by the door.
"Mike," Jan said. "You planning to stand there all night, or are you going to get naked?"
He laughed—a real laugh, surprised and warm.
"Give me a second. I'm processing."
"Process faster."
He shook his head, but he was already pulling off his shirt.
Mandy watched her father undress. She'd seen him naked before—it was impossible to live in the Horny House and not see your parents naked at some point. But this was different. This was intentional. This was him stripping down because he wanted to join them, because he wanted to be part of whatever was about to happen.
He was getting chubby. That was the first thing she noticed. His belly was soft where it used to be flat, and his chest had a slight sag to it. His hair was more gray than brown now. His body was the body of a man approaching fifty—not old, not by any stretch, but not young either.
She still thought he was handsome.
Casey reached for him as soon as he was naked. She pulled him onto the bed, her hands sliding over his chest, her mouth finding his. They kissed like they'd been kissing for twenty years—deep and familiar and full of heat.
Mandy felt herself cheering them on.
Not out loud. Not with words. But somewhere in her chest, something was shouting yes, yes, that's it, keep going.
Calista's hand resumed its movement on her thigh.
"You okay?" Calista whispered.
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." Mandy turned to look at her sister. "I'm sure."
Calista smiled—that golden, ethereal smile that made her look like something out of a fairy tale.
"Good."
She leaned in and kissed Mandy.
It wasn't a sisterly kiss. It wasn't a peck on the cheek or a brush of lips. It was a real kiss, deep and searching, her tongue sliding against Mandy's like she'd been waiting years to do it.
Mandy kissed her back.
Jan watched from the other side of the bed, her green eyes bright.
"You two are gorgeous," she said.
"Shut up," Mandy mumbled against Calista's mouth.
"Make me."
Mandy pulled back from Calista and looked at Jan.
"You want to be kissed?"
"I want to be part of this." Jan gestured at the scene around them—Mike and Casey tangled together, Calista's hand still on Mandy's thigh, the heat building in the room like a physical thing. "You think I'm going to sit here and watch?"
"You could."
"I could. But I'd rather participate."
Mandy considered this.
"Then get over here."
Jan didn't need to be told twice.
She crawled across the bed, her heavy breasts swaying with the movement, and positioned herself behind Calista. Her hands found Calista's shoulders, then her back, then her waist, tracing the curve of her body like she was memorizing it.
Calista shivered.
"Jan—"
"Shh." Jan's lips brushed Calista's ear. "Let me take care of you."
Casey and Mike were still kissing. But Casey's hand had wandered downward, her fingers finding Mike's erection and wrapping around it. He groaned into her mouth, his hips bucking into her grip.
"Fuck," he breathed.
"That's the idea," Casey said.
Mandy watched them. Her parents. Her mother's hand moving up and down her father's cock, her father's fingers finding her mother's cunt, both of them moaning into each other's mouths like teenagers who'd just discovered sex.
It should have been weird.
It was weird.
But it was also hot. God, it was hot.
Calista broke away from Jan and turned back to Mandy.
"Your turn," she said.
"For what?"
"For this."
She reached behind Mandy and unclasped her bra with one quick motion. The straps fell away, and Mandy's breasts were exposed—small and pale, her nipples dark and hard.
Calista looked at them.
"Beautiful," she said.
"They're not—"
"Don't." Calista put a finger on Mandy's lips. "Don't say they're not anything. They're beautiful. You're beautiful. And I'm going to prove it to you."
She leaned down and took one of Mandy's nipples into her mouth.
Mandy gasped.
Calista's tongue was warm and wet, swirling around the sensitive bud, then flicking it gently with the tip. Her hand came up to cup the other breast, her thumb brushing over the nipple in slow circles.
"Fuck," Mandy whispered.
"Good?"
"Yes. Yes, fuck, yes."
Jan's hands were on Calista now, sliding down her back, finding the curve of her ass. Calista moaned around Mandy's nipple, her hips pushing back involuntarily.
"You like that?" Jan asked.
"Yes."
"You want more?"
"Yes."
Jan's fingers slid between Calista's legs.
Mandy couldn't see what she was doing—Calista's body blocked the view—but she could imagine. She could imagine Jan's fingers finding Calista's clit, rubbing in slow circles, sliding down to her entrance and pushing inside.
Calista's hips jerked.
"Jan—"
"That's it." Jan's voice was low and rough. "That's it, sweetheart. Let it happen."
Casey and Mike were moving faster now. Casey had pushed Mike onto his back and was straddling him, her wet cunt hovering over his cock.
"You ready?" she asked.
"Always."
She sank down onto him in one slow motion.
Mike groaned—a deep, guttural sound that made Mandy's stomach clench. His hands found Casey's hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there as she began to ride him.
"Fuck," Casey breathed. "Fuck, Mike, you feel so good."
"You feel better."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
"It's not flattery. It's the truth."
Casey laughed—a breathless, happy sound—and leaned forward to kiss him.
Calista released Mandy's nipple with a wet pop.
"Watch them," she said.
Mandy watched.
Her parents were beautiful together. That was the thing that struck her most. They'd been married for over twenty years, had raised four children, had weathered every storm that life had thrown at them. And they still looked at each other like they were the only two people in the world.
Casey's hips moved in a steady rhythm, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. Mike's hands roamed her body—her hips, her waist, her breasts—like he was rediscovering her after a long absence.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too."
"This is crazy."
"I know."
"Our daughters are watching."
"I know."
"You're okay with that?"
Casey looked over her shoulder at Mandy and Calista.
"Are you okay with it?" she asked.
Mandy nodded.
"Yeah," she said. "I'm okay with it."
Casey smiled.
"Then I'm okay with it too."
Jan had moved on from Calista's cunt to her ass, her fingers slick with something that might have been saliva or might have been magic. Calista was moaning continuously now, her body trembling, her hands clutching at the sheets.
"Jan—Jan, please—"
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me."
"With what?"
"Anything. Everything. I don't care."
Jan laughed.
"You're eager."
"I've been waiting—" Calista cut herself off with a gasp as Jan's fingers pushed deeper. "I've been waiting for this for years."
"For what?"
"For all of us. Together. Like this."
Mandy understood.
She'd been waiting too. Not for this specific moment—she couldn't have predicted this specific moment if she'd tried—but for something like it. For the feeling of being included. For the feeling of being wanted. For the feeling of being part of something bigger than herself.
She reached out and touched Calista's face.
"Hey," she said.
Calista looked at her. Her golden eyes were glazed with pleasure, but there was something else there too. Something soft. Something vulnerable.
"Hey," she said back.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"I'm glad you're here."
"I'm glad I'm here too."
Jan's fingers were moving faster now, fucking into Calista with a rhythm that made her whole body shake. Calista's mouth fell open, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
"I'm going to come," she said.
"Good."
"Jan—"
"Let it happen."
Calista came with a cry that echoed off the walls.
Her body convulsed, her back arching, her hands fisting in the sheets. Jan kept fingering her through it, drawing it out, making it last.
Mandy watched, transfixed.
When Calista finally collapsed, boneless and gasping, Mandy turned to Jan.
"My turn," she said.
Jan raised an eyebrow.
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Because I've got a lot of energy and nowhere to put it."
"Then put it in me."
Jan grinned—that wicked, mischievous grin that had gotten her into and out of trouble more times than anyone could count.
"I thought you'd never ask."
She pushed Calista gently to the side and crawled over to Mandy, her body pressing her down into the mattress. Her breasts were soft against Mandy's chest, her belly warm, her thighs solid and real.
"You're beautiful," Jan said.
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're just saying that because you want to fuck me."
"I'm saying it because it's true." Jan leaned down and kissed her. "And because I want to fuck you."
Mandy laughed against her mouth.
"At least you're honest."
"I'm always honest. It's one of my best qualities."
"I thought your best qualities were your tits."
"That too."
Jan's hand slid down Mandy's stomach, past her navel, past the waistband of her underwear. Her fingers found Mandy's cunt through the thin cotton, pressing against the wet heat there.
"You're soaked," she said.
"I know."
"Is this all for me?"
"It's for everyone." Mandy gasped as Jan's fingers pushed the fabric aside and found bare skin. "But mostly for you."
"Good answer."
Jan circled Mandy's clit with her fingertip—feather-light, teasing.
"Please," Mandy whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please stop teasing."
"Where's the fun in that?"
"Jan—"
Jan laughed and pushed two fingers inside her.
Mandy cried out. The stretch was sudden and sharp, but it faded quickly into pleasure. Jan knew what she was doing. Her fingers curved inside Mandy, finding the spot that made her see stars.
"Fuck," Mandy gasped. "Fuck, right there—"
"Here?"
"Yes—yes—don't stop—"
Jan didn't stop.
She fucked Mandy with her fingers, her thumb pressing against Mandy's clit, her mouth finding Mandy's nipple and sucking hard. Mandy's world narrowed to the points of contact between them—the fingers inside her, the thumb on her clit, the mouth on her breast.
Casey and Mike were still going.
They'd changed positions—Mike was behind Casey now, fucking her from behind, his hands gripping her hips. Casey had her face pressed into the pillow, her moans muffled but still audible. The slap of skin against skin filled the room.
"Harder," Casey gasped. "Harder, Mike—"
He gave her harder.
The bed shook with the force of his thrusts.
Mandy felt herself getting close. The pleasure was building in her belly, coiling tight, threatening to snap.
"Jan—"
"Let go."
"I—"
"Let go, Bug. I've got you."
Mandy let go.
The orgasm hit her like a wave—sudden and overwhelming, crashing over her and pulling her under. She thrashed on the bed, her hands fisting in the sheets, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Jan kept fingering her through it, drawing it out until Mandy had to push her hand away.
"Too much," she gasped. "Too much—"
"Sorry."
"You're not sorry."
"I'm a little sorry."
"You're not."
"You're right. I'm not."
Calista had recovered enough to join them again. She pressed herself against Mandy's side, her hand finding Mandy's breast, her mouth finding Mandy's neck.
"That was beautiful," she murmured.
"Shut up."
"It was."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I love you."
Mike and Casey were close now. Mike's thrusts had gotten sloppier, his breathing ragged.
"I'm going to come," he said.
"Me too."
"Together?"
"Together."
They came together—a tangle of limbs and moans and whispered names. Mike buried himself deep and held there, his body shuddering. Casey clenched around him, her back arching, her mouth open in a silent cry.
When it was over, they collapsed onto the bed.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then Jan started laughing.
"What?" Mandy asked.
"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." Jan rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "That was... a lot."
"Yeah."
"Good a lot?"
"Yeah." Mandy reached out and took Jan's hand. "Good a lot."
Casey and Mike were tangled together on the other side of the bed, Casey's head on Mike's chest, Mike's arm wrapped around her.
"We should do this more often," Casey said.
"What, have sex with our daughters?"
"That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean?"
"I meant..." Casey paused. "I meant this. Being together. All of us. Not just for sex. For... everything."
"We're already together."
"I know. But we could be more together. You know?"
Mike kissed the top of her head.
"I know what you mean."
"Good."
"Casey?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"I love you too."
The moment stretched.
Then Calista sat up.
"Okay," she said. "I have a question."
"Shoot."
"Who's going to clean up?"
Everyone looked around at the tangle of sheets, the damp spots on the mattress, the scattered clothing on the floor.
"I vote Jan," Mandy said.
"Fuck you."
"You just did."
"That's not—" Jan sighed. "Fine. I'll clean up."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Bitch."
"Love you too."
Amy was passing through the hallway when she heard the first moan.
She stopped, her hand hovering over the doorknob. The sound was muffled but unmistakable—a long, low sound of pleasure that made her eyebrows rise.
She listened for a moment longer.
Then she smiled.
Already, her mind was filing it away—the sounds, the context, the emotional weight of a family coming together in the aftermath of trauma. It was the kind of thing she could use in her next novel. The kind of thing that made her writing feel real.
She made a mental note to ask Mandy about it later.
Then she continued down the hallway, her tea growing cold in her hand, a smile on her face.