Triple Take - Ch. 01

Chapter 1: The Spare Room

My mother met a new man and got remarried to Wes Scott, my new stepdad. We packed up all our stuff and headed to my new home. He has two sons, Mason and Jesse who I never met before because they were always away at college. Mason is 21 and Jesse is 20. Wes is in his 40s but looks like he's in his early 30s. He looks after himself and from the sounds of what I hear from him and my mother at night, he knows what he's doing in the bedroom. I'm 19, bookworm and going to college. I'm not popular by any means and have no sexual experience. I've never even been kissed and my clothes are always baggy.

"When we get there, I want you on your best behaviour Ivy," My mother said. "Aren't I always on my best behaviour? You made sure of that all my life."

Our car finally pulled up to our new home. The first thing I noticed about the house wasn't the peeling white paint or the uneven steps--it was the feeling. Like something lived in the air itself, heavy and warm, making my stomach knot the second I stepped inside.

And then I saw them.

Three of them.

The first to meet me at the door was Mason. Shirtless, barefoot, and wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants that didn't leave much to the imagination. He grinned like the wolf in every fairytale my mother had warned me about.

"You're Ivy?" he asked, eyes scanning me from head to toe. I clutched the strap of my duffel bag like it could protect me. "Didn't expect someone so... innocent-looking."

I flushed. "Yeah. Ivy. Bennett."

Mason's smirk deepened. "I'm Mason. Welcome to the jungle, sweetheart."

Before I could respond, another figure appeared behind him. Tall, lean, with messy brown hair and a book still in his hand. He didn't say anything at first--just looked at me.

Jesse. I'd recognize that kind of silence anywhere.

He gave a small nod. "Hey."

That was it.

But his eyes lingered too long on my legs. He noticed the buttons on my cardigan. The way I shifted nervously under his gaze. I felt it like a hand on my skin, even though he hadn't moved.

Then, finally, Wes hugged me and hugged my mom.

He came in from the back porch, wiping his hands on a rag. Taller than the others. Broader. A little older. With that worn, salt-and-pepper look that made my stomach twist low and warm.

He didn't smile. Just nodded once, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Hi Ivy, welcome to your new home. Just shout if you need anything and don't be shy. I'll show you to your room so you can unpack."

His voice was low and gravelly, like he could command a room without raising it. I guess that's what my mother likes about him. My mother, Amanda, has obviously been here before as she already looked right at home. My dad has never been in my life so I never really knew him. I guess that's why I immediately took a liking to Wes.

I swallowed. "Thanks for being so kind."

"Hope you're not shy," Mason whispered behind me. "Walls are thin."

I didn't know what to say to that. So I didn't say anything.

⸻

My room was small, tucked between Mason and Jesse's. The sheets were clean. The desk was scuffed. A single window let in the afternoon sun. I dropped my bag and sank onto the bed, heart still racing.

I had never lived with men before. Especially not like this.

They were older. Bigger. Confident in a way that made me feel like I was back in high school, watching the cool kids from the other side of the glass.

But this wasn't school anymore.

This was real.

And I could already feel my body betraying me.

⸻

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I stared at the ceiling in my old flannel pajama shorts, trying not to think about the way Mason's sweatpants had hung low on his hips. Or how Jesse's fingers had curled around his book like he could be gentle or rough, depending on the page. Or how Wes's eyes had settled on me for exactly two seconds too long.

I lay in bed in my worn flannel pajama shorts and a thin tank top, sheets twisted around my legs, heart still buzzing from the introductions. My body felt tight and restless, like something had been wound up inside me without my permission.

Then I heard it.

A low, breathy moan.

My breath caught.

It was coming from the wall. The one I shared with the bathroom.

Another moan, this one louder. Wet. Desperate.

Then Wes's voice -- low and rough, curling with heat.

"Open wider. Yeah... fuck, just like that. You're so tight."

I froze. My whole body went rigid. Heat flushed straight to my core. I knew I shouldn't feel this way. Not while Wes was having sex with my mom, if you can even call it that.

A sharp slap echoed against tile. Followed by a whimpering gasp.

"You like that?" he growled. "You like getting your pussy fucked in this house?"

A muffled yes. So soft, but needy.

"Louder," he snapped. "Let the whole fucking house hear you."

Another moan spilled out -- raw and aching.

My hand clenched the sheets. I was supposed to turn away. Pretend I hadn't heard it.

But I didn't.

I stayed completely still, ears straining, eyes wide in the dark.

The rhythm picked up -- wet, obscene sounds that left no mystery to what was happening. Skin meeting skin. His breath heavy. My mom's voice a wreck of moans and messy pleas.

"Harder--please--I want it deeper--"

"You'll take what I give you," he growled. "And you'll thank me."

I squeezed my thighs together. My nipples ached, pressing against my top. My core throbbed like it had been lit on fire.

I imagined his hands gripping her hips. His cock buried deep. His voice hot against her ear, telling her all the dirty things no one ever said to me.

God, this is so wrong.

What if it had been me?

A whimper escaped me before I could stop it.

I rolled over and shoved a pillow between my legs, but it was useless.

I was wet.

Panting.

Wired with a kind of need I didn't know how to quiet.

I had never touched myself. My mother would've called it sinful. But my fingers hovered near the waistband of my shorts, trembling.

I didn't go further.

Not yet.

But I lay there the rest of the night, flushed and shaking and ruined.

And I knew--whatever I had walked into in this house--it was already changing me.