ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories) (54 page)

Chapter Three

The next night, the bikers were back. She watched them from a distance; Tuck was looking for her, or for someone. She couldn’t tell which she hoped for.

She managed to avoid him all that night. But then the next night, he returned, with fewer of his club mates in tow. And his eyes never stopped searching for her. He’d see her, and smile, and she’d feel herself tugged towards him on some strange and uncontrollable tide. But she resisted, and again, the night passed without meeting.

The next night, he was there again, this time only in the company of four other men; and then the next night, with only two; and then the next night, with only one. Finally, he arrived all by himself. He always sat at the bar, ignoring all the dancers, drinking steadily, looking for her.

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Junior said, with a knowing grin that Stella wanted to slap right off his face. But she sighed, knowing he was right. Finally, she went to him, standing in front of the mirror behind the bar, an expectant look on her face.

“Well?” she asked, wondering what his angle would be.

“Well, what?” he replied coolly, taking a sip of his drink.

“Why are you here?” she asked, getting frustrated. “You keep coming back. And I know it’s not for the entertainment. Some of the dancers here are getting a little pissed that you keep all those singles to yourself.”

“I’m not here for them, it’s true,” he said, leaning back. “I’m here for you.”

“I know that,” Stella snapped, blushing bright red. “I’ve seen you looking. I’m not interested, so…”

“Why not?” Tuck asked, leaning forward now, capturing her in his magnetic gaze.

“Uh,” Stella stuttered, thrown slightly off guard. Why wasn’t she interested? Oh, right, because she’d basically sworn off men. All men. Including bikers with handsome faces and gorgeous eyes. “I’m just not. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, a toying grin on his face. Then, he pulled out his wad of cash. Immediately, Stella jumped to conclusions, and was about to scream in his face about how she wasn’t a dancer and didn’t take money like that, but he seemed to sense it and nipped it in the bud.

“Listen first,” he said, holding out a hand. “Your dancers are getting pissed? Here’s my deal. I’m going to come in here every night for a month. I’ll pay for my drinks, I’ll tip well. I’ll also give fifty bucks to one of your girls, no lap dance required. I don’t want to buy you, but I think you’ll find your ladies are in better spirits with fifty extra dollars of free cash in their wallets at the end of the night.”

Stella’s jaw snapped shut. Hell, that kind of thing would make her a damn hero in their eyes. It might even make Tammy like her. Fifty bucks wasn’t much, but in their tiny, run down town, it went pretty far, and if it came without any strings that was even better.

“And what do I have to do?” she asked, eyes narrowing to match his.

“I want you to be my personal bartender for a half hour every night,” he said, laying his hands open on the table between them. “Doesn’t have to be all at once. I know shit happens, you’re gonna have to deal with emergencies and stuff. But thirty minutes, here and there.”

“Uh,” Stella said, cocking her head slightly, confused. “And what do you get out of that? Is flirting with an uninterested bartender your fetish?”

He laughed.

“Hardly. But it’ll give me a chance to make you like me,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Maybe even enough to let me take you out at the end of the month.”

Stella chewed her lip. It was a very enticing offer - very enticing indeed. Tammy was on stage at just that moment. Stella imagined how much more the girl might like her if she could slip an extra fifty into her hand at the end of the night. Looking back at Tuck, she thought it wouldn’t be so bad having to talk to him for thirty minutes a night, either. Especially if she made herself promise to herself that it would never go anywhere but just talking.

“Alright,” she said finally, feeling her heart melt a bit at his pleased smile. “It’s a deal.”

“Fantastic,” he said, peeling a fifty from the billfold and slipping it across the table, then adding a ten to it. “Let’s start with a whiskey, neat.”

Chapter Four

Stella laughed. Tuck was just finishing a story about a disastrous weekend in Venice Beach, complete with a transvestite and a hard-earned pizza being thrown into the ocean. Stella had been in stitches the whole time; so much so that she was drawing attention to herself. Only when she felt the curious eyes on her did she manage to stifle her giggling. Tuck was looking rather pleased with himself, which he often did when he made her laugh like that. Which was also often.

They were coming to the end of their month-long experiment, with Tuck roughly $1,500 in the hole, plus the cost of drinks. Stella had done the math partway through, and felt slightly guilty about all the money he was willing to spend on her. But her dancers were thrilled, and she was finding herself eager- even giddy – to get her thirty minutes with Tuck each night.

She hadn’t expected to like him so much, but she did. He made her laugh; he talked to her openly and candidly about his life with the Rolling Thunders, trusting her. And he asked questions like he wanted to know the answers – all without ever even getting a kiss from her.

Now, on this final night, Stella was undeniably anxious. He’d mentioned, a month earlier, taking her out to dinner, but it had never come up again. Some deep part of her worried that his mind had changed, that he’d found her company unpleasant after all, and had only kept coming back out of some sort of politeness.

Like a man like him gives a damn about being polite, Stella thought, still nervous. Now, she tugged a dishtowel between her hands as he eyed her. The way he looked at her never ceased to ignite a flurry in her stomach. Even after a month of talking to him about everything from peeing in public to snoring in bed at night, his eyes captured hers, never letting them go. She could feel herself drawn to them long after he looked away.  She bit her lip, waiting for him to say something.

“So,” he finally said, looking at the clock behind her. “It’s the last ten minutes.”

She hadn’t even realized how quickly time had gone by. It seemed to fly by whenever Tuck was around. She nodded, gulping.

“Last night,” he said, arching an eyebrow and cocking his head. She nodded again, looking down.

“You gonna do it?” he asked, and she looked back up at him, confused. Do what? Sleep with him, is that what he meant? Well, the prospect wasn’t entirely unappealing; in fact, it was pretty damn appealing. But - still, what if this was his long con?

Even as she told herself that was silly, she couldn’t bear the idea of sleeping with him once and never seeing him again. And though they’d spent a lot of time together that month, she still worried about that broken little girl inside her, that once she really let him in, he’d see it and leave.

“Do what,” she asked, playing dumb. He scoffed.

“Come to dinner with me!” he said, slapping his hands against the bar.

“Oh,” she said, blushing. “I didn’t know that offer was still on the table.”

“It’s always been on the table,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers. “And you want to take it, don’t you.”

She didn’t know what she wanted. She did know, better than she knew the names of her employees. She did, she didn’t. She couldn’t lie to him.  She nodded.

“Great. You’re off tomorrow?”

After a month, he knew her schedule; they were the nights he didn’t come in.

“You know I am,” she said meekly.

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he said, winking. “Text me your address.”

They’d exchanged numbers midway through the month.

“Okay,” she said, feeling dizzy and giddy and nervous all at once. The rest of her night, after he left, was sloppy and distracted. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. All that she wanted to do with him…and all she was afraid of, too.

The next night, Stella spent three hours deciding what to wear, eventually opting for a simple sundress and flats. The dress had built-in pads, so she opted out of a bra. Doing and re-doing her hair and make-up took another hour. When eight o’clock came around, her stomach was doing somersaults like she was a teenager going on her first date. It was her first date in quite a while. And she worried, more than anything, what would happen after.

The roar of a motorcycle shocked her heart. She looked down; maybe the dress hadn’t been such a good idea. She should’ve known he’d pick her up on his bike. For all she knew, he didn’t even have a car.

She stepped outside as he pulled up; he removed his helmet as she crossed her front lawn towards him, heart in her throat.

“I don’t have a helmet or anything,” she said, but before she could finish speaking he’d pulled out the helmet that had been tucked between his legs. Smiling, she took it.

“What about a jacket?” she asked through the face shield. She couldn’t see his face, his visor down, but he twisted in his seat and opened his saddlebag, pulling out a small, brown leather jacket. She put it on without comment.

“Ever ridden before?” he asked, and she shook her head no. She could almost see his smile behind his helmet. “Well, you’ll love it. C’mon.”

Stella climbed awkwardly behind him, well aware of the way her short dress hitched up, and the feel of the leather under her panties. As the bike kicked to life, it sent a thrill straight up her sternum, the rumbling vibration shocking her. It was intense between her legs as Tuck roared off onto the road, and she shifted, leaning forward, thighs tight around his waist, arms across his chest.

The scenery of their small town seemed to go by faster than she could process, but the feeling was unbelievable. The wind whipped her hair out behind her, but she was warm in the jacket. Too soon, the ride was over, Tuck’s bike coming to a sputtering stop outside a bar Stella had never been to, though she’d passed it often enough.

“Best burgers in town,” Tuck said with a wink, finally removing his helmet as he helped her dismount. She felt her legs shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush and the tightness with which she’d been clinging to him. “You’re not a vegetarian are you?”

She laughed and shook her head.

“Good,” he said, opening the door for her. She entered and was immediately pleased; it was just her type of place. Sawdust on the floor, a live country band on the stage, and a rowdy, happy crowd in every booth. Tuck placed his hand on her lower back, leading her to a table in the back, and the feeling was a new kind of rush. She almost hated when he pulled out her chair, removing that hand.

The waitress came by and took their orders; they both ordered bacon cheeseburgers with fries, with Stella also ordering a gin and tonic to steel her nerves and Tuck sticking to beer. The light above them made his hair look golden, lit on his green eyes, his strong jaw spread in a smile. She liked looking at him. Hell, she loved it.

They chatted about nothing for a long while, their conversation easy and flowing, filled with laughter. It was just like talking to an old friend. An old friend that Stella was feeling more and more attracted to every moment that passed.

The food arrived and disappeared almost as quickly; Tuck was right. The burger was delicious. The best she’d ever had. Or maybe it was just the great company she was eating it with. She was on her third drink, too, and feeling tipsy and open. When his hand snaked under the table, falling on her knee, she shivered, a jolt of energy dancing in her nerves. She could tell her panties were already damp.

“So,” Tuck said, his eyes growing oddly still and serious. “What are you after, Stella?”

She cocked her head, wondering if the question was as vague as it sounded, or whether she was just drunker than she thought.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, you don’t seem like the type that just wants to manage a titty bar for the rest of your life,” he said, eyes probing.

“Oh,” she said, flushing and turning to look down at her drink, which was nearly empty. The waitress was just passing by and she raised her finger, calling for another. “Um, I don’t know, really.”

“Yes, you do,” Tuck probed, leaning in close, making her breath catch in her throat. Stella was grateful that the drink arrived quickly, and she gulped at it.

“Well,” she said, the last sip going straight to her head. “I want a family. I mean, I want…I want a family eventually.”

She clasped a hand over her mouth. There was nothing less sexy than talking about wanting a family on the first date, even if there had been about thirty mini-dates before it.

“I mean…okay, I was an orphan all my life, pretty much,” she said, trying to regain some sort of control. Tuck’s eyes on her never wavered, only deepened. “And I never belonged anywhere, you know? Never had a…had a….”

“Had a family,” he finished for her, and she nodded, taking another sip and wondering where all this sudden honesty had come from. “I understand.”

“You do?” she asked, wanting more than anything to look into the future and see herself having a life with this wonderful, funny, dirty biker of a man who made her laugh and looked at her like she was a glass of water on a desert island. She hadn’t known how much she wanted that until right then, and her body responded, leaning in closer to him.

“I do, believe it or not,” he said. “Life like mine…it gets old, you know? I love my boys, but I want more. I want more for myself.”

They were inches apart now, and their eyes were locked so tight it would have taken a crowbar to break their gaze.

“Like what,” she asked, voice a low whisper.

“Like you,” he said, and closed the distance between them, closing his lips over hers, stealing her breath and making her skin burn, her nipples tightening, her thighs clenching together. No one had ever kissed her like that before, in a way that immediately turned her on, made her crave his cock inside her. When he pulled away, her eyes were half-lidded and lusty.

“Let’s go,” she said, voice hoarse. “Let’s go right now.”

Tuck grabbed her hand, throwing a hundred on the table and pulling her through the now-crowded bar. Outside, the cold air should have brought reality back to Stella’s mind, but it didn’t, because he grabbed her, spinning her around to kiss her again, hungry now, arms closing around her, hands falling to her ass and squeezing as her blood boiled and rushed.

And then they were on the bike again, Stella pulling her helmet on and closing her legs around his middle, this time feeling the way her clit pressed against his lower back while the bike’s vibrations made her slit buzz and dance in a crazy aching need.

She moaned, unable to help it, and pressed herself forward as the bike kicked onto the road, grinding her hips down. She savored the way the hot, buzzing leather felt underneath her and slid her hips back, nearly biting her lip when her clit touched the saddle, sending ecstatic shockwaves through her body. Her short dress fluttered behind her, revealing her milky white thighs and the slightest hint of her panties to the whole world, but she didn’t care.

“Oh, fuck,” she cried out as the bike picked up speed, clutching Tuck tighter and feeling the thrumming engine pleasure her scantily-covered sex, the world’s biggest, hottest, roughest vibrator. Her thighs tightened around him to keep herself steady as pleasure washed through her, her body alive and wanting now, on fire with need. Her nipples tingled, too, the shockwaves riding all the way up through her body.

Her slit was dripping slightly, the fabric of her panties clinging to her lips. Tuck, feeling his passenger’s tight grip and knowing what was happening, adjusted the bike’s speed, going slower and then faster, the rhythm maddening to Stella, giving her what she needed and then easing off, again and again, until she felt like a Molotov cocktail, moments away from exploding.

They were in a neighborhood Stella didn’t recognize, not that she could really make sense of much of anything with the way the bike was ravishing her body, but as the bike finally slowed to a stop, she was amazed at the size of the house.

The Rolling Thunder MC was loaded; they must have been for Tuck to have spent so much on her. But it didn’t really become obvious to Stella until she saw that he lived in a house that was easily twice the size of her own. But she had little time to admire it; before she could process anything, Tuck had pulled her off the bike and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder like King Kong. She laughed, then, feeling silly about everything, and pounded on his back. She heard the smile in his voice when he spoke.

“Stop it, woman,” he said. “You’re mine tonight, and don’t you forget it.”

Mine, the word rang in her head, made her feel creamy and warm inside, something so possessive and sexy about how said it. Mine.

She didn’t get a chance to see how the house was laid out; he never put her down, carrying her in his impossibly strong arms through room after room until he dropped her, unceremoniously, on a huge king-size bed, standing before her in all his glory. The humor that she’d felt when he’d carried her was gone as he stared down at her, eyes hungry and body firm.

He ripped the helmet from her head, the jacket from her shoulders. And then he pushed her, hard. She closed her eyes as her back bounced on the mattress, an aching emptiness in her stomach that only he could take away. His palms covered hers, their hands above her head, fingers laced tight together. Her heart raced and she blinked back into awareness, the heat in her body rushing, flames licking at her nerves. Her thighs parted. He pressed into her. Her lower back sank into the mattress.