The Trashy Virgin: A Menage Romance Page 9

  “Please!” he shrieked. “Please nooooo!”

  I panted, stunned at the turn of events. What the hell had happened? One moment, I was about to be beat to death in the parking lot, flattened into a pancake as a result of Jock’s rage, nothing but broken bones on the floor. But instead, now I was encircled safely in Jason’s strong arms as Brent towered above the teen boy, his massive form looming over the writhing form.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Brent ground out. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  Jock kept crying, his wails pitiful.

  “I’m –I’m Jock!” he whimpered, “Please no!”

  Brent looked at him, disgusted.

  “You’re such a fucking slob, I don’t give a fuck who you are,” he ground out, landing another kick to Jock’s stomach. “What the fuck were you thinking, treating a woman like that?” he grunted with another kick. Jock was a mess on the floor, snot running down his nose, curled into a ball wailing like a dead hyena.

  And Jason didn’t want to miss out on the action. His big arms tightened around me as he whispered in my ear, “You okay baby?”

  I nodded numbly, and that was all he needed. Jason immediately launched himself into the fray, taking out his anger on the fucking high school boy.

  “You FUCK!” was all he roared before kicking Jock in the stomach, his boot digging into the football player’s small intestine. “Motherfucker!” he screamed before aiming another deadly kick, this time at Jock’s neck.

  I had to intervene then because if this went on, my date was going to die here, a bloody, pulpy mess on the barren concrete floor.

  “Stop stop!” I cried, running to them, trying to wave them off. “Stop, look I’m fine, I’m fine, just a couple scratches that’s all.”

  Both men turned to look at me, their blue eyes almost feral in the low lights of the parking lot.

  “A couple scratches?” Brent raged. “That’s enough reason to kill this fucker.”

  “Fuck YEAH,” was all Jason managed before grinding his heel down on Jock’s hand.

  “No stop!” I shrieked, really serious this time. “Come on, I’m fine!” I panted, pulling at one big man’s arm, then the other. “Come on, let’s go!”

  And my soft touch on their bodies brought them back to their senses, unlocking them from the all-consuming rage that burned through their massive bodies.

  Brent shook his head, as if snapping out of dream.

  “Let’s go,” he grunted to Jason. “This loser’s had enough.”

  Jason looked like he wanted to land another good one on Jock’s face, shoulder, wherever, but he stepped back as well, breathing hard. But he wasn’t above a parting shot.

  “You ever touch Katy again,” he rasped, his voice a hissing steam pipe, “and you’ll see just how nasty we can be motherfucker.” And with that, he delivered a final blow to Jock’s stomach, leaving the football player groaning, clutching his midsection, crying like a baby in the parking lot.

  Holy shit, this had gotten out of control. You can go to jail for what Jason and Brent did, and right now, it was important to get out of here before the police came. Hopefully the lunkhead wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell them who had done it, he’d keep his trap shut like a good little girl. So I ran to the car, my lovers trailing me, and clambered in, panting, breathless.

  “You okay?” ground out Brent, staring at me through the darkness, his hand still on the ignition, making sure I was alright.

  Jason was just as concerned.

  “Because I’ll kill that fucker if he touched you,” he ground out, eyes seizing mine under the fluorescent lighting of a nearby billboard.

  And I took a deep breath then, still shaking, still rattled, but my mind had cleared, and I was suddenly sure.

  “Take me home,” I said. “Brent, Jason, take me home because I want to be with you now.”

  And it was true. There was no more need for waiting periods, I no longer had any doubts about what my life could be or should be. There was only what is. And it was time to serve my men, show them how much I cared, how much I adored my lovers both. So I looked at them again, hiding nothing, my eyes wide pools of truth.

  “Take me home and let me love you,” I murmured this time, a hand on each of their thighs. Because my future was unfolding with Jason and Brent on each side … and it was time to get down to business.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Brent

  Katy’s changed, that nightmare of an encounter with Jock McMahon made the girl snap to her senses, realize how lucky we were to have each other. Because at first, Jason and I weren’t sure what was going on. We’d overheard her on the phone making plans to see a movie with some dude, and were incredulous.

  “What the fuck?” I ground out. “Who is this asshole?”

  Jason just shook his head with disbelief.

  “I never knew a forty-eight hour waiting period meant dating other people,” he growled. “Fuck me.”

  We continued to look at each other, stunned, until Katy stepped into the living room, immediately alert to the tension in the air.

  “What, what is it?” she asked, her gaze on Jason, then me. “What’s wrong?”

  But Jase and I move fast and immediately wiped our expressions clean.

  “Nothing,” I tossed at casually. “Why?”

  And the boy was just as smooth.

  “Heading out, see ya,” he grunted, grabbing his gym bag.

  Katy was silent for a second, still suspecting something, but sighed and let it go, picking up her purse.

  “I’m gonna go see a movie with June,” she said. “I’ll be back, mmm, probably at ten. See you then?” she asked with a sweet smile.

  And I forced myself to nod neutrally, the fakeness making my chest hurt, but it was important to act normal.

  “Sure thing,” I drawled. “Don’t get up to no good.”

  And Katy smiled sweetly at me again before tripping down the trailer steps.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t,” she called once she was outside. “Besides, it’s just June!” she added with a smile before walking to the park entrance where presumably “June” would pick her up.

  And once she was out of sight, Jason and I gawked at each other again.

  “What the fuck,” was all he could manage.

  “What the fuck is right,” I ground out between gritted teeth. “Our girl is going on a date with another dude? To see Insidious 2?” I asked. “Who is this fuckwad? And what kind of name is Jock, anyways?”

  Jason snorted.

  “Dude is a motherfucker of the worst sort. Ten feet tall, pumped up on steroids, he’s dealing that shit to other guys too. It’s bad, I see him working out in the gym and he’s got veins popping out of his forehead, he’s on so much juice.”

  I shook my head. Central High is a fancy high school where kids have access to everything, and it wasn’t surprising that kids with too much money were using drugs. But shit, dealing that stuff? What the fuck was Katy thinking?

  Jason just shook his head again.

  “I don’t think she knows,” he rumbled. “Katy’s pretty innocent and doesn’t get around in those circles, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she thought he was a meathead and nothing else.”

  Warning bells were going off in my brain now. There was no way a monster like Jock wanted just a couple kisses from Katy. In fact, having once been a horny eighteen year-old myself, I knew exactly what the movies were for: making out with a sweet, succulent girl, petting her pussy, maybe slipping a couple fingers inside.

  So I grabbed my jacket and keys, face set in a mask.

  “Where are you going?” rumbled Jason.

  I fixed him with a hard look.

  “You think I’m gonna let that fucker feel our girl up? Fuck no,” I ground out, expression grim.

  And Jason grabbed his jacket as well, just as incensed, but he was more practical.

  “What, are we gonna see the movie as well? Make it a ‘double date’ with Katy and her dude?”
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  Hearing the word “date” made my guts scream, my brain pound with agony knowing that my girl was in a romantic situation with another man. But I shook my head, expression tight.

  “Naw, I’m just gonna sit in the parking lot, make sure everything’s kosher,” I said as calmly as I could, like I was actually thinking straight.

  Of course, it was a total lie because sitting in the parking lot wasn’t going to do any good. I mean, fuck, this Jock asshole could be mauling her inside and we wouldn’t even know, waiting in the truck cab like losers. But both of us were so intent on keeping tabs on our best girl that we jumped into the car, squealing onto the road, barreling towards the theater.

  Fortunately, the drive did us good, gave us some time to cool off. Maybe it was the cold night air blasting as we sailed down the street or the soothing rumble of the engine, but I got a good dose of oxygen and was able to clear my head. As we squealed into the theater parking lot, my brain was screwed on straight once more, my pulse going at a normal pace.

  And Jason had calmed too because he turned to me and growled, “Listen, we can’t just sit out here for three hours like a bunch of losers. But we can’t both go in either, it’d be way too obvious.”

  I grunted. That was true.

  “I’ll go in,” Jason proposed, pulling his hood over his head. “I’ll keep an eye on them while they’re in the theater, and you sit out here and wait. That way Katy’s always in our line of vision, she’s always safe.”

  And I watched amazed as Jason got out of the car, stooping his shoulders, crouching so that his big frame shrunk in on itself. Holy shit, but this guy was a master of disguise. From the back I would have thought that he was a sixty year-old senior, hobbling through the parking lot, a lonely guy out for a movie by himself.

  So I tried to relax, leaning back in the cab, forcing my muscles to unclench, to release. Gazing out the window, I could see that the parking lot was pretty much empty, just a few cars here and there, the vast concrete space lit up by fluorescent lights. And the irony of the situation struck me. I was an alpha male who’d taken females for thirty years now, irresistible to the ladies then and now. Even the waitress at the diner today had been all over me, sighing and gasping, scribbling her number on the receipt. I’d glanced at it, crumpling it in my fist without a second thought. No way the middle-aged server could hold a candle to my beautiful teen, it was like comparing a blob to a rose in bloom, there was no contest, period.

  But that was the crazy part about this. I had women coming out of my ears, women begging for my information, begging to spend time with me, to feel my body up against theirs, petting their sweet holes. And yet, here I was, waiting in a truck cab, alone on a Tuesday night, as Katy watched a movie with another man. No, it was worse than that. I sat like a loser in the car as my comrade-in-arms, Jason, literally stalked her on her date with another man, both of us wound up and anxious like nervous boyfriends biting our nails.

  “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was a king of men, a champion, and yet here I was like a desperate dog, relegated to the backseat as Katy went out and enjoyed herself.

  I shook my head again, weary, pinching the bridge of my nose. But what the fuck. What I was doing was right, I could feel it in my gut. I’d seen the slight shadow of doubt in the brunette’s eyes when we talked in the diner, discussed what could be, what might be, what the three of us wanted. And I didn’t blame Katy for having doubts because she was young, her life was only just unfolding, and she didn’t have any experience under her belt. How can you know what you want without sampling the world first, without dipping your toes into a couple different pools?

  After all, I’d had an opportunity to live my life already. I was a forty-five year-old dude who’d been with dozens of women, heck, probably over a hundred in the last thirty years, and fuck, but Katy was the best of them, sweet, sassy, so beautiful, and sharp as a tack too.

  But she didn’t know that, nor did she know that the world can be harsher than it seems. Katy was just a naïve eighteen year-old, and as far as I knew, had never even had a steady boyfriend. Definitely she’d never been physical before Jason and I rolled along, so for her to have doubts, questions about our threesome was natural. Besides, it would only be a matter of time before she saw how ruthless real life is, how often the goods are damaged, how things don’t turn out the way you expect.

  So I sat back, taking another deep sigh, watchful and alert. The world is a rough place, and Katy was about to get a nasty dose of reality. And sure enough, not five minutes later the little girl came tearing out, eyes wide and rolling with fear.

  “Oh god!” she cried, scrabbling in her purse, trying to find her phone.

  My cell went off immediately with an urgent 9-1-1. Shit, she was looking bad, tears running down her cheeks, shoulders heaving, and I jumped out of the car, long legs pumping as I rushed to soothe her, kiss away her fears.

  But that fucking ape Jock barreled out of the theater then, clutching his groin as he ran, face murderous with rage.

  “You fuck!” he screamed at Katy, grabbing her hair, making her shriek with pain, yanking his fists up and down, shaking her head like a rag doll. “You fuck, you punched me in the nuts!”

  The caveman in me took over then. With a roar, I was on the fucker immediately, wrestling him to the ground, his pumped up bulk no match for my massive build. Because I work out the natural way, through discipline and a good diet, and no drugs can compete with that. So Jock was a mere mite, nothing more than a tiny ant, soft and weak despite that pumped-up bodybuilder get-up.

  “Get the fuck off her,” I raged, delivering a kick to the stomach. As I expected, his stomach was soft and fluffy like a marshmallow. The toe of my boot sank in a couple inches into his belly fat before rebounding. “Get the fuck away from her,” I commanded.

  And by now, Jason had come tearing out of the theater as well, his arms around Katy, soothing her, stroking her hair as she choked back sobs.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered into her ear. “Because I’m gonna fuck this motherfucker up.”

  When she nodded silently, her body still shivering and shaking, Jason launched himself like the Tasmanian devil onto Jock, kicking and punching at the big man’s cowering form.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he raged, landing blow after blow onto the football player’s body. Jason could also tell that this guy was the Pillsbury Doughboy with the way his gut absorbed the blows like soft cotton, but that didn’t stop the hail of rage.

  “What the fuck?” Jason roared again, delivering another vicious one to Jock’s soft underbelly.

  I had to step in then because Jock was curled up in a ball on the floor like a complete weakling, not even trying to fight, and there’s no reason to pummel an opponent who’s already given up, who looks like a terrified hedgehog with its head down, trying to protect itself from the worst of the punishment.

  So I wrestled Jason back, forcing the big man against his will, letting him catch his breath, to let reason take over.

  “Come on, this dude’s a loser,” I spat, glancing down at Jock’s cowering frame. Oh my god, was the dude actually crying? A slight whimper emanated from the boy and I shook my head, disgusted again. “Come on, let’s go.”

  And Katy stepped forward at the same time.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she breathed, eyes wide, even a little terrified at seeing how vicious we could be, how alpha, how merciless. “Let’s just go, leave him alone, he’s not going to hurt me anymore.”

  And with that, we clambered back into the truck, silent as we drove. I wasn’t sure what was next. Was Katy going to bitch us out for trailing her? Were we going to rail at her for going on a date with another man? But the brunette had other ideas because the fight had gone out of her, the dose of reality had been like a ton of bricks crashing down with a thunderous roar.

  And once we got back, Katy turned to us after the front door shut, her fine form curvy and temp
ting in that tight sweater and short skirt. She smiled tremulously, lips tempting and soft. Fuck, this woman could wear rags and I’d be into it, I’d tear that shit off without a second thought. Or better yet, she could walk around naked all day, that was right up my alley.

  Because something was different. Before, the brunette had been filled with doubt, unsure about how things would work between the three of us, toeing the start line but not quite ready to run. But now that internal resistance was gone, completely kaput. She smiled at us, eyes wide, warm, molten pools of chocolate.

  “Jason, Brent,” she breathed, “I want to be with you.”

  I wanted to yell, to lash out, to make her pay for going on a date with another man but my breath caught because the teen started shimmying out of her clothes, and my body went from anger to lust in half a second. Oh god, she was so beautiful. Slowly, the brunette pulled the sweater over her head, revealing those soft, huge tits, barely covered by a bra, and reached in back to undo the snap, slowly stroking the silk straps off her shoulders. When her jugs were free, she beckoned to us.

  “Come and taste me?” she whispered, holding a breast in each hand, lifting and offering the tips. “Come and taste?”

  And Jason and I were like slaves before our mistress, on our knees in a second, me tonguing one breast while he took the other. The girl threw her head back in ecstasy, eyes closed, moaning slightly and I should have been angry, should have been furious with her, but my rage instead transformed into a burning sensation in my groin, a hardness, a need to take.

  “Fuck little girl, you’re so amazing,” I growled, worshipping at her boob. Her soft, white jug was so huge that I couldn’t get it all in my mouth and instead settled on sucking her tip, rolling the sweet cherry around in my mouth before nipping lightly, biting that sweetness.

  And Jason was a goner as well. He kissed along the crest of her breast before biting hard on the soft underbelly, leaving teeth marks, a crescent of indentations.