Owning Avery Ch. 03

Humming along to the playlist running on her Bluetooth speaker, Avery flipped a pancake, her neck damp from wet hair that she'd had no time to dry if she was going to get breakfast started. The music was low enough that she heard someone coming down the stairs, so it was no huge surprise when she felt a hand on her rear, and an arm reach for a piece of bacon from the plate beside the stove.

Catching a glimpse of the longer light brown hair from the corner of her eye, she sighed, flipped another pancake. "What is with you guys and my butt?" she asked.

She received a firm squeeze before Mason leaned against the counter beside her. "It's hard to resist," he replied, then took a bite from the bacon with a wicked grin. He was feeling much better after his long shower, and had finally relieved all the pressure that had built up through the night. With all the time he'd spent, he'd managed to bolster some confidence as well, enough to try and push for time with Avery.

After all, they'd spanked her naked ass last night and she'd slept between them. Their relationship was amid a drastic shift, whether that was a positive thing, he didn't know. But he had until tomorrow to figure it all out and intended to do everything he could to see what direction it would take. And he'd found her cooking breakfast in a loose white halter top that left a good six inches of skin exposed between the fabric and her black panties that had lace trim. Not at all normal day-wear, despite the fact that she'd showered, which had to have been done on purpose.

He was convinced she was feeling it too.

Setting the last pancake on the plate, Avery looked at Mason, who was finishing the strip of bacon. His hair was still wet, tied back, and he wore a black sleeveless shirt and cargo shorts. "Breakfast is ready. Where's Carter?"

"He's here," she heard in the distance, and spun around to find him sliding onto a stool at the kitchen bar.

Carter had suggested the tank and panties, but he hadn't expected a follow through, let alone to the extent she'd taken it. The back had been sexy to see, but the front . . . the halter fell just inches below her breasts and those little black panties were so low cut in the front, offering the full view of her tiny waist and hips. Moreover, the sexy lines her pelvic bones made, how they protruded due to the fact she didn't have an ounce of fat on her.

Placing her hands on her hips, her eyes flicked between Mason and Carter. "A little help?" she asked.

"Yup," Mason said, and they were both in motion, grabbing plates and glasses, orange juice, condiments while she deposited the plates of food on the bar. Meals always took place in the kitchen unless it was dinner, when that would be served in the dining room on her stepmother's insistence that they always eat properly with family when home.

Finally, everyone had a place along the bar and began to dish up. "Thanks for cooking," Carter said with a wink at Avery. He absolutely loved that she'd done as he asked, as though she were telling him she was willing to follow an order and a sure sign she would continue to do so.

Breakfast was finished with complete normality, conversing so casually you'd never know as an outside observer that anything had changed. They shared amusing anecdotes from the party the night before, leaving out the wee hours, of course. Avery finished first and brought her plate to the sink, rinsing it then placing it into the dishwasher. "I've gotta go dry my hair," she told the boys, releasing the clip and using it to brush out the twist.

"We'll probably go watch some TV," Carter said, looking to Mason and receiving a nod. "It's a nice day though. Maybe after we've relaxed for a while we can take a swim this afternoon?"

"Sounds good," Avery said, then left the kitchen to get upstairs.

Once Mason knew she was long gone, he picked at his last piece of bacon. "That little outfit?" he began, then plopped a piece into his mouth while glancing sideways at Carter. "Is that for real?"

Carter stood up and began to clean his plate. "Might just be because she wanted to rush and make breakfast," he mused, knowing that was not the truth. Leaning back against the counter, he folded his arms over his chest. "Or maybe it's her way of saying she's okay with everything that happened. And maybe okay with it continuing."

"That's the read I got," Mason replied, shaking his head in wonder. He laughed silently as he finished the last bite of bacon. "You know I woke up and my hand was just below her chest. All I wanted was to feel her."

Shrugging, Carter said, "You probably could have."

"Nah, she was asleep," Mason argued. He held up his forefinger and thumb. "I was this close to doing it, too. It was fucking infuriating how turned on I was, so I just got up."

"And opened the curtains," Carter added, raising a brow.

"Yeah, 'cause I wanted you guys to wake up," Mason fired back through a chuckle. "There was no way I could just fall back asleep at that point, and I wasn't about to sit around for hours while you guys slept in." Lowering his gaze, Mason ran his fork through the syrup, drawing circles. "We have her on lockdown here, and I don't know what that means. I just know I want to touch her." He gulped. "Try to take advantage of the time we have and see." Glancing back up to gauge his brother's reaction, he frowned. "Is that weird?"

Carter pressed away from the counter and grabbed Mason's dishes. "Maybe we just stop asking that question. Whenever you say it, it makes it weird," he explained, loading the last items and pouring cleaner into the reservoir. "We already determined last night that it's not weird that we were in this together. And judging by what she was wearing . . . I dunno. I think she is embracing the ours until Sunday thing."

"That or offering her own form of punishment by torturing us," Mason mused. "Well, at least torturing me. I have no idea where you stand on the whole thing."

"Oh, I'm right there with you," Carter said without hesitation. After everything that had happened while Mason had been in the shower, he was wondering more and more if she actually owned him and not the other way around. She didn't have to know that, however. "Let's go see what's on tv."

***

Avery entered the living room, honey blonde hair in a loose braid that fell down over her left shoulder. And sure enough, she hadn't changed into real clothes. Carter and Mason sat at opposite ends of the couch, purposefully, and Carter patted the center as he said, "We were just going to start a movie."

"Awesome," Avery replied, making her way around the coffee table. "You were right, it's like ninety outside. Pool will be great, but thanks to Mason opening those fucking curtains, I could use some rest. Maybe even a nap when we're finished."

"Sorry about that," Mason said contritely as she sat down.

"You should be," Avery fired back.

Carter placed his hand on her thigh. "No fighting," he said, then gently tugged at Avery, lifting her silky legs onto his lap. "Just lay down," he urged. "Watch a movie. Pass out here if you want."

Leaning back on her hands while looking over her shoulder, Avery saw Mason grab a pillow and place it on his lap, and she turned to her side and laid her head upon it, feeling moderately comfortable. If it weren't for everything that had happened thus far, this was somewhat similar to when they all lived here before, though usually the pillow was at a hip and not on a lap, and her feet curled up instead of draped over thighs.

Mason started the movie, but watched Avery as she shifted, tucking a few loose strands behind her ear then finally resting her left hand on his knee. Given that she had done this, he placed his hand on her shoulder, once again feeling his heart begin to race with longing. She was so delicate and beautiful . . . and so much exposed skin. He had no idea how he'd focus on the movie.

On the other hand, the movie was irrelevant as far as Carter was concerned; it was simply an excuse to keep her near. With his left hand resting on her calf, he skimmed his fingers over her thigh with feather-light touches, his gaze flicking from his hand to her face; she hadn't glanced his way yet, her eyes trained on the screen.

However, it wasn't long before his desire intensified, maybe fifteen minutes of playing it cool had passed. Flattening his palm, he rubbed up her thigh while bending her knee outwards with the other, making it easier for his hand to stop on her left cheek, and he began to knead her ass over her black panties.

Mason felt Avery clutch his leg and shift as she exhaled a moan and glanced over, finding Carter groping her. What surprised him was that she hadn't protested at all; hadn't even looked his way, her eyes still on the screen. For a moment he felt jealous, but it passed as he realized just how comfortable Avery was and how much progress had been made. If she wasn't putting up an argument, it meant that she now deemed this acceptable. His hand had stayed put on her shoulder, but he let it travel down her side, over her halter until he felt skin, and ran his thumb in circles against the back of her ribcage, massaging her.

Avery had completely lost track of the movie, her eyelids gently closing as her breathing sped up. Part of her hated that it felt so good; Mason massaging her side and back, Carter squeezing and rubbing her butt. But the other part repeated what Carter had said this morning: why did all their touching have to be fighting and wrestling? Why couldn't it be massages? They did care about each other, there was love there, albeit not the kind of love that had prompted Carter to finger her to orgasm this morning. That still bothered her; mostly because she was so conflicted by it.

Her halter was rising in the back, Mason's thumb massaging just below her bra, which placed his forefinger against the underwire of her cup, and Avery's lids squeezed shut as the internal struggle intensified. What had happened with Carter had been completely inappropriate, but she'd come to accept it, even feeling excited (though apprehensive) over what he'd meant by saying she was his. But now Mason? That thumb was now over the lace of her bra in the back, and now it was his middle finger along the underwire; his forefinger on her bra. Yet still, a tiny moan escaped her as her back arched without her control.

Then a shift happened all at once with that moan. Carter's hand met her hip as she felt him move beneath her legs, and he gently urged her onto her back; physically lifting her right hip from the couch. As she rolled, feeling sleepy and dazed, her right arm that had been clutching Mason's thigh curved over her head. And in the process, Mason's hand covered her breast over her bra. "Uhnn," she exhaled, then opened her eyes in slants. "I was watching that."

Carter angled himself further, running both hands up her thighs until they rested on her hips. "I know for a fact that's not true," he said, digging his thumbs into her sides as he admired the lines of her body. "You've had your eyes closed for the last ten minutes, at least."

Giving up there, Avery raised her head to look up at Mason. "Massages feel good," she said defensively. "But you can take your hand off my boob now."

Because she stayed completely still—could have easily moved her arm and pushed his hand away—and ONLY because she had stayed so still, Mason raised a brow. "You sure you want me to?" he posed, then gave it a squeeze, saw how her jaw lowered a half an inch as she sharply inhaled, her bare stomach quaking without any discernable rhythm, which may have been one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. It was unbelievable to him how well she fit in his hand. Even more unbelievable that his hand was there at all.

"Pretty sure!" Avery sang with warning.

Carter shifted his right hand up, placing it against her flat stomach with a fair amount of pressure. He then placed the heel of his left hand directly between her legs, applying pressure there while hooking the tips of his fingers into the top of her panties. Her head had tilted back in a moan and Carter smiled. "That's the thing," he said, his wrist making tiny circles. "That moan, right there. You like it."

"Aaah," Avery cried, high in pitch. "It's not about liking it!"

"Or maybe it is about liking it," Mason proposed boldly, realizing he could take as much control of the situation as Carter could. He shifted more into the corner of the couch, then paused the movie. "I know I like touching you," he continued, then took her other arm and lifted it over her head. She allowed it with such ease. "It seems that you like being touched," he added. She exhaled, frowning. Gripping the bottom of her halter top, he slowly raised it, revealing the sexiest black lace balconette bra. He swallowed heavily. "And I know I want to keep touching you, if you'll allow it," he finally stated, then worked the halter up her arms.

He was completely convinced when she raised her head from the pillow to allow its removal. While her words said one thing, every action she was making said another. Had she actually physically shown even the tiniest resistance, this would all end immediately. "We did say that you're ours, Avery," he heard Carter say, though didn't look his way as he deposited her halter on the arm of the couch. His eyes were instead fixated by the length of her torso; how with her arms over her head, her ribcage created a cliff-jump to her flat stomach. And that bra. Jesus, that fucking bra. There was no question in his mind she'd specifically chosen the entire ensemble to tease them; that she probably expected that bra would be seen.

"Yeah, you did," Avery contended, still putting up a fight she only half meant, because the fact was that it did feel good. She did like it. "But that meant grounded at home until Kelly and dad get back. With you babysitting to be sure I didn't leave."

"Maybe," Carter said with a shrug. Between her thighs, he hooked his thumb under her panties and ran circles against her entrance, finding her damp. Her hips bucked upwards as she exhaled a cry. "Or maybe we meant exactly this, or we wouldn't have spanked your naked ass last night and made you sleep in the same bed."

Avery felt an anger rise just then and lifted her head to stare at Carter. "So you planned this?" she demanded, then looked up at Mason. "Together, you planned this?"

"No," Mason said, shaking his head as he twisted the strap of her bra, feeling suddenly guilty. "Trust me, Avery. There was no plan, ever."

"We didn't plan it," Carter agreed. "But it evolved to this when we noticed that you liked it." He sent his thumb inside of her, relishing in another moan as her head collapsed on the pillow, her fingers gripping the roots of her hair. He knew she wouldn't continue laying here if she didn't want this. If this was some forced issue, her hands would have smacked Mason's away. Her legs would have kicked him. Her protests were pretend.

Carter sighed. "Okay, I'm going to give you one last chance to say no. Say it right now and mean it, and you're free. You can even leave, go out with friends, all restriction lifted, game over. But if you don't, you are ours for another twenty-four hours." His heart was pounding, praying he had the correct read once again. He'd been right earlier. "What's it going to be, Avery?"

Put on the spot like this—a thumb probing her, Mason's fingers stroking the top of her bra—Avery felt like she was going to cry. She needed to say no. She'd never done anything like this before in her life! The only men she'd ever allowed to touch her had been guys she'd dated for at least a month, and even they never got too far. Just the one she'd slept with, whom she'd been with for five months. It wasn't that she feared saying no, she only feared regretting it later, because at least right now she felt good! She was aroused, just as she had been with Carter this morning and hadn't wanted it to stop.

But what did this ultimately mean? Just this? Some touching? More? She felt like a slut, and she was absolutely not one at all. Carter and Mason she'd known for so long that there was safety in that, but it was also so inappropriate.

Then again, it was only twenty-four hours. And she trusted them to know that if there was anything that she truly did not want, they would respect it. Everything else aside, they did love her.

"That's a lot of silence, Avery," Carter said, interrupting her thoughts. All she wanted was more time to decide.

But in an abrupt moment of clarity, maybe the fact that she couldn't decide immediately was a clear indication that she didn't want to say no, and likely wouldn't want to later. She again took stock: Mason's fingers tracing the top of her bra, the sexiest one she owned. It barely covered her nipples with its balconette cut, and she had put it on this morning specifically because of how naughty it made her feel. And Carter . . . She'd never had an orgasm in her life until this morning, and if he kept it up right now she might experience her second.

Swallowing heavily, she nodded her head. "I'm yours," she breathed, her decision made. And the second it exited her mouth, she felt relief wash through her entire being. What followed was a jolt of electricity in nervous anticipation. It was terrifying to relinquish that sort of control, but it was done. With a sigh, she took it one step further. "My punishment for last night," she added, remembering how Carter had said he wanted it to be that way, but also implying that this acquiescence had an expiration date.

And relief came. The second she'd said it, she felt now she could give in. She could stop the fight and enjoy this brief blip of time.

"That's right," Carter said, blood rapidly flowing to his cock upon hearing her say this. He widened his circles with his thumb, digging in deeper and watching her writhe and moan. He was anxious to push the limits, but they had all night now to do so. Avery had agreed. Again, his assessment had been correct. He'd gambled. And he'd won.

Mason was still stunned; could not fucking believe what she'd just said. He glanced at Carter for the first time, but his brother's eyes were trained between her legs, his hand firmly at work. And here was Avery, writhing and moaning with her arms stretched above her head on his lap. He opened his mouth to ask if she was really sure, as Carter could be a bit too persuasive, but abruptly closed it. Best not to question. And so he let it go, altering his state of mind from apprehensive to undaunted. And without further hesitation, he slid his hand into the cup of her bra.

Carter hooked his fingers into Avery's panties at her hips and pulled them down her legs, then lifted them into the air so he could get up. "Mason, I need the pillows," he ordered, holding his hand out. Avery raised up off of his lap, steadying herself with hands against the couch, and both of them started at Carter with raised brows.

Scooting up to the edge of the couch, Mason handed over the pillow on his lap, then the one behind his back. "Okay," he drawled.

"What's going on?" Avery asked in confusion, along with feeling light headed from rising so quickly.

Carter was single-minded and focused. He was ready, but above that, Avery was absolutely ready. The second he'd been able to move his thumb around with ease, he was sure. Lightly slapping her hip, he said, "Raise up for me."

Still confused, Avery complied, lifting her butt from the couch. Carter slid the pillows beneath her and Mason shifted over to the coffee table, ready to take a lead as soon as he knew what direction things were headed.

His box of condoms was in his room in the pool house, and Carter asked wryly, "Don't suppose you're on any form of birth control . . ."