5 Times a Day

**Chapter 45**

“Oh, who’s that hottie?” Carol asked the moment a new guy seemed to appear out of nowhere. From the way his body was built—muscular yet still lean and athletic—he clearly wasn’t just some ordinary guy. An athlete at the very least.

Sara turned to look at the small commotion and immediately turned back around, heat rising through her body. She hurriedly drank her cold juice, trying to cool the sudden warmth. Mira didn’t miss the detail. She also noticed Scott’s strained expression—the same guy who had been bothering Sasha—and suspected the grip on his wrist was far stronger than a normal warning. Still, her attention stayed mostly on her twin.

“He’s our cousin,” Mira said. The slight strain she put on the word “cousin” was meant for Sara, who clearly wasn’t thinking straight.

“Ooooh~” Carol cooed, completely missing the strange atmosphere. Her eyes stayed fixed on Tyler’s figure. “Is he single?”

“Why don’t you ask him? Right after he’s done breaking your stepbrother’s hand.” Mira pointed toward Scott, whose hand was already turning an ugly shade of red and purple. Tyler still held the wrist tightly, smiling the entire time.

“He’s a jerk. He probably deserves it,” Carol replied without the slightest sympathy. Her father had remarried after her mother left, and the woman he married had brought along a son from her previous marriage. Ross and Carol had never gotten along with Scott. One of the main reasons Carol had transferred to boarding school was that she could no longer tolerate his constant lechery. Ross could handle himself when needed, despite his usually bashful personality. Carol, however, hadn’t wanted constant trouble with a stepmother who always sided with Scott, so she left for as long as she could.

Scott had simply found a new target.

Sasha.

From the looks of things, he was already regretting that decision. Everyone could see that the restricted blood flow had turned his hand a deep purple, and his face wasn’t looking healthy either.

Before Selena could intervene, Tyler finally released the wrist. Scott immediately clutched it against his chest as if it had nearly been torn off and gasped for air. Tyler bent down with a concerned expression, as though the whole thing had been an accident. He examined the wrist for a moment, then said something too quiet for anyone else to hear. Whatever it was made Scott’s face go from blue to completely pale in under a second. Anyone watching could tell it had been a threat.

“Oh,” Elise said a little nervously, “it seems the kids got into a little trouble. Well, at that age that’s normal, don’t you think, Selena?”

Selena had been ready to storm over and teach the impudent boy who had hurt her son a lesson. Then she noticed every pair of eyes at the table watching her. Everyone present already knew Scott’s nature. If she defended him now, she would only make herself look like the villain. That was the last thing she wanted in this setting.

She forced a smile. “Pr-Probably.”

~~

Needless to say, I had made the first meeting more than a little awkward. When we all finally sat down to eat, the stares aimed at me were mixed at best. The guy whose hand I had nearly destroyed kept looking anywhere but at me, still pale. His mother watched me like she wanted to swallow me whole—and not in a kinky kind of way.

The girl sitting with Sara and Mira—Carol, I had learned—was openly checking me out. Ross, as usual, only had eyes for Mira. Mira herself was focused on Sara, who sat stiffly and still refused to meet my gaze.

There was one detail I hadn’t mentioned earlier.

Because I had stepped in for Sasha, she was now leaking a thick pink haze in large amounts, clearly turned on. That alone would have been distracting enough. But it wasn’t the end of it.

Aunt Elise was releasing even more. Where Sasha’s haze felt like a gallon, Aunt Elise’s felt closer to a tanker—maybe more. It clouded my vision whenever I looked in her direction.

And still, that wasn’t everything.

Sara, who continued avoiding my eyes, was also putting out a heavy amount of the same pink haze. Nearly double what Sasha produced. Still less than Aunt Elise, but significant.

That raised the question that had been bothering me for a while. Why had Sara only started leaking it today? Why not before? Was it tied to sexual frustration? Did certain emotional conditions trigger it? What exactly was the connection between their lust and the visible haze? And why could I only see it from certain people? Carol was clearly sending strong signals in my direction, yet nothing pink came from her.

If only the system came with some kind of AI that could answer questions. Instead, it only told me what it decided I needed to know—item descriptions, basic effects, nothing more. No option to ask for clarification.

I would simply have to figure the rest out on my own. There were still many functions I hadn’t unlocked, and the last thing I wanted was to poke at something irreversible.

“I…”

Carol’s voice pulled my attention. I turned toward her, already tense because the little minx sitting beside me had started rubbing my thigh under the table. Her small hand moved with slow, deliberate pressure, fingers tracing higher until they brushed the growing bulge in my jammers. With the current atmosphere and all the swimsuit-covered bodies around us, it was becoming difficult to stay composed.

Once she had my attention, Carol said, “I wanted to apologize for my brother’s rude behavior.”

I waved a hand and smiled, fighting to keep my voice steady while Sasha’s fingers curled around the outline of my cock through the fabric. “Nothing to sweat over. If it had been anything major, I wouldn’t have stopped at a sprain.”

The atmosphere turned awkward again almost immediately. Carol was left searching for a reply. Her attempt to break the ice and approach me had been shut down with a single sentence. She looked good, that much was true, but I already had more than enough on my plate. Adding another complication wasn’t appealing right now.

Especially not when Sasha decided that fabric was getting in the way. Under the cover of the tablecloth, she slipped her hand inside the waistband of my jammers, wrapped her warm fingers directly around my shaft, and gave it a slow, tight stroke from base to tip. I felt myself harden fully in her grip. She didn’t stop. Her thumb circled the head, spreading the bead of moisture that had already gathered there, then she stroked again—steady, unhurried, and far too skilled for how small her hand was.

I should have emptied myself earlier, but with this much lust hanging in the air, the Restoration skill would have activated on its own anyway.

Sasha glanced at me with pure mischief while smiling politely at everyone else. Her hand kept moving, twisting slightly on every upward stroke, squeezing just enough to make my thighs tense. She was clearly enjoying the fact that I had to sit there and pretend nothing was happening.

“So, uh, Tyler,” Tom’s friend Tristan finally spoke up. “What does your family do for a living?”

“Many things.” Running a drug cartel among them, though I left that part out. “We mainly deal in import-export. I had plans to move into real estate, but LA isn’t the best market for it right now. Beyond that, we have a mall and several department stores around the city. Recently we also finished a hospital and an amusement park.”

Tristan blinked, clearly impressed. “That’s… a lot.” He finished with a short chuckle.

He wasn’t the only one. Most of the table looked surprised. I had only listed the businesses that were easy to find under the Haller name. I hadn’t mentioned anything still under my mother’s name.

Under the table, Sasha’s pace increased just a little. Her fingers tightened, and her wrist worked in short, efficient motions that made it harder to keep my breathing even. I rested one forearm on the table to steady myself while she continued stroking me openly, the wet sound of skin on skin thankfully muffled by the conversation and the poolside noise.

“Must be hard to handle all of that,” Tristan commented.

“Not at all. I excel at these kinds of matters.”

That made several people pause—everyone except Aunt Elise’s family. Even Tom looked mildly impressed.

Carol couldn’t hold back the question. “So you handle all of that by yourself? What about the rest of your family?”

“My grandmother still handles some of it. My father’s out of the picture, and my mother doesn’t enjoy the complicated side of business, so most of it falls to me.”

Everything I was saying could be verified by anyone with enough resources. Men like Tom—and probably Tristan as well—could dig up the information easily if they wanted.

Sasha chose that moment to focus on the head of my cock, rubbing the sensitive underside with her thumb while her fingers kept a firm ring around the shaft. The dual sensation nearly made me lose my train of thought. I shifted in my seat, pretending to reach for my drink, and she only smiled wider and stroked faster.

“Any plans about expanding to another city?” Tristan asked.

That question told me everything I needed to know. He and Tom were more than just casual friends. I had probably been wasting my time explaining things they already knew.

I smiled at him. The handjob under the table was still going strong, Sasha’s small fist pumping me with steady, wet strokes that were pushing me closer than I wanted to admit in the middle of a family barbecue. Yet the political undercurrent at the table was sharp enough that even her skilled fingers couldn’t completely cloud my focus. Someone here was clearly testing me.

“I like Pittsburgh now that I’ve spent some time here,” I said. “Perhaps I’ll dig into it.”

If they weren’t satisfied with only their drug dens being exposed, I was more than willing to go further.

If only Sasha would ease up for a moment. Her tiny hand felt far too good for this kind of conversation, and the way she kept thumbing the head on every stroke was making it increasingly difficult to pretend I was only interested in business.