Page 115 of Fourplay & Fatalities

Felix often bitched to Asa when he needed to be really catty. Zaney was his best friend, one of the three loves of his life, but he always tried to find the best in people. And Avi… Well, Avi went out of his way to make Felix feel better, of course, but never really joined him in the truly childish and borderline deranged way he needed.

Only Asa was willing to be as petty, mean, and evil as Felix was when it came to everyday people in their lives, and it fed the darkest most venomous part of Felix in a way he couldn’t put into words. It was the sexiest thing about Asa in Felix’s humble opinion.

They’d started their conversation as soon as they’d gotten in the car, knowing time was of the essence. It had started with a recap of last Thursday’s PTA meeting—or as Zaney called it, the Real Housewives of Primrose Country Day School. It was a clash of personalities every single time. The power suit, moms with their tablets and never ending meetings—that was Felix’s group. The yoga moms with their yogis and crystals and lotus tramp stamps. The trad wives with their Selkie dresses and Stepford stares. And finally, the old money moms, who tried to act above it all while secretly trying to wrestle all the power for themselves.

Every meeting was spent duking it out over bake sales and car washes, all while trying to assert their dominance. Felix couldn’t understand why a school whose tuition cost the same yearly as a new Land Rover needed fundraisers in the first place, but that was neither here nor there, he supposed.

Felix and Zane were not the only gay dads amongst the PTA parents. There was Darius—who’d somehow been made an honorary trad wife—and Joel, who was one of the queen bees of the old money moms. His father had invented frozen waffles or something equally inane.

They were the only gay dads in a poly relationship, but that only made them more intriguing to the Real Housewives of PCDS, not less. The last name Mulvaney still carried more weight, and nobody wanted to be on the bad side of Thomas Mulvaney. Not even Joel and his waffles…or whatever breakfast food his great-great grandfather had invented.

No, there was only one person who wasn’t afraid of the name Mulvaney. Felix’s current nemesis: Patrice Schroding.

Patrice was the current trophy wife of CEO Drake Schroding, who ran a tech company that was currently under investigation for some very shady monopoly allegations. She’d swept into Primrose with carrot red hair, a fake tan, and freckles Felix just knew had been tattooed on. She had immediately barged her way into the old money mom group, name-dropping left and right and making veiled threats and insinuations anytime anyone dared to question her suspicious pedigree.

Felix had refused to back down, though. Not that he cared who her family was. He had no room to talk when it came to what these women referred to as pedigree, like they were all pomeranians instead of people. He’d never cared until Patrice started making borderline racist comments about his children and commenting about the twins “real mom.”

That was when Felix had put Calliope on the case. Seeing as how her wife’s eggs were the mom in question, she had even more motivation to help Felix in his revenge plot. It only took about twenty-minutes before Calliope had confirmed that Patrice Schroding was not a salt heiress as she’d claimed, but a girl named Patty Kowalski from some place in Queens.

Patty was a former midnight ballerina and paid escort, who had clearly seen a sucker in Drake Schroding. It had only taken six months and one conveniently dead wife and she’d traded in her clear heels for vintage Chanel and his dead wife’s favorite pearls.

Felix had hoped Calliope would find evidence she’d tossed the previous Mrs. Schroding down a flight of stairs or something so he could torture her for real, but no such luck. The original Mrs. Schroding had an unfortunate reaction to anesthesia during a facelift. Which still seemed weirdly suspicious to Felix, but maybe it was his wishful thinking.

Oh, well. He had all this info in his back pocket, saving it for the perfect moment to ruin that bitch. But until then, he was going to seethe, just not quietly.

They’d arrived at the garage for Felix’s lecture before he could finish his diatribe on all the ways he hated Patrice, so they’d decided to multitask. Now, there was a tube of lube on the dashboard, an unopened condom in the passenger seat, and Felix seated on Asa’s lap…and his fingers.

Felix gasped as Asa curled said fingers, massaging that bundle of nerves until tears pricked the back of his eyes.

“Do that again,” he moaned.

Asa complied. “Which one is this Patrice bitch again? Is she that pickle-faced cunt with the fake tits and the chicklet teeth?” he asked.

“Which one?” Felix asked on a breathless laugh. “They all have fake tits and veneers.” Before Asa could answer, Felix registered the insult. “Pickle-faced?”

He rolled his hips, fucking himself on Asa’s digits, clamping down on his lower lip to bite back another low, throaty sound.

Asa shrugged, eyes still locked on Felix’s face. Asa did love to watch.

“I heard Jet say it the other day and liked the imagery it evoked,” Asa admitted, eyes dropping to Felix’s flushed bare chest, licking his lower lip as he checked him out in an obvious manner that made Felix hot all over. “Very descriptive.”

The intensity of Asa’s gaze always made him feel sexy. Asa didn’t say things he didn’t mean, he didn’t phone in compliments to make people feel better. If he said something nice, he meant it.

Felix’s thighs burned where he straddled Asa, hovering just enough to give his hand room to move. Felix was already naked from the waist down, having wiggled free of his pants with one sharp look and a one-word command from Asa. “Strip.”

Asa had pulled his pants and underwear down only enough to free his cock, which was straining and wet at the tip, making Felix’s mouth water. Maybe he should have just blown him? Asa and Avi were identical in every way, even their dicks, but how they used them was night and day.

Felix ran his palms down Asa’s chest. He’d unbuttoned his shirt to avoid any stains, but his tie was still firmly around his neck. He looked good enough to eat, like Avi in a business suit but far more menacing than Felix’s own golden retriever husband.

Felix gripped the wheel behind him with both hands, using the leverage to fuck himself on Asa’s fingers. “I hope Jet isn’t throw—oh, yes—throwing around—Jesus, do that again—the c-word.”

Asa chuckled, twisting his fingers inside Felix once more, making his vision tunnel and his cock leak copiously onto his belly and the car seat. Asa caught the liquid on his finger, then rubbed it over Felix’s lips like chapstick. His tongue darted out to lick the taste without thought, enjoying the bitterness on his tongue.

“He spends so much time with Jericho’s older kids at the garage, I’m surprised he hasn’t started complaining about overtime and pushing for union rates,” Asa said.

Felix smiled, grabbing the condom from the passenger seat, ripping it open with his teeth before using both hands to roll it over Asa’s hard cock, then stroking him for far longer than necessary just to hear the catch of his breath. There was something so powerful about watching a predator lose their cool.

“She is pickle-faced,” Felix agreed. “That’s actually a perfect description for her sour puss. I can’t wait to out her to the whole PTA. The old money moms will have a stroke when they see who they’ve let in.”