“You need chicken.”
Heather Johnson nearly spit out the sip of vodka and tonic she’d just taken at her best friend’s announcement. She managed to swallow the alcohol without choking…barely…and glanced around, suddenly grateful that the normal Saturday night crowd in Bull’s-Eye Billiards hadn’t yet arrived. At nearly six p.m. only a handful of customers were scattered around the bar. A handful plus George Collins, Clyde Newman, R.J. Crawford, and Pete Morris, four of the bar’s most loyal regulars who were often compassionately referred to as the grumpy old man crew.
“I’m serious, Heather. You need to go for a ride.”
Heather felt her lips twitch as she dared to take another sip of her drink. She knew Cali meant well, and she couldn’t deny that her best friend was right. The trouble came in also knowing her “chicken ride” wasn’t likely to happen any time soon.
“Gonzo Franklin’s got chickens,” R.J. stated in his gravelly voice of a pack-a-day smoker.
“Sure does,” Pete agreed with a nod. “Isn’t much of a ride to get from here to his chicken farm, though.”
Heather met Cali’s gaze across the bar, saw humor fill the other woman’s eyes, and they both cracked up. The two of them had been texting several weeks ago when Cali had sent Heather an image she’d found on her iPhone of a chicken being choked. The image had been followed by a text that Heather didn’t know what a chicken looked like anymore because she hadn’t had one in so long. Ergo, she hadn’t gotten laid in forever. Since then, when either of them referred to a man’s cock or needing sex, chicken had become the term they used instead of the more explicit terms.
“Something tells me that’s not the kind of chicken or ride these ladies are talking about,” George told his buddies.
Heather looked to her left and saw the obvious confusion painted on R.J. and Pete’s faces.
“Constance choked my chicken well and good last night,” Clyde announced smugly.
“Then I let her go for a hard, fast ride,” George added just as haughtily.
Heather felt her jaw drop.
Behind the bar, Cali grabbed her head with both hands and groaned. “That’s TMI, guys. We really didn’t need to know that. I especially didn’t need to know that considering you’re talking about my future mother-in-law.”
Constance Trip was the mother of triplet sons Cord, Riley, and Wilder, who just so happened to be Cali’s boyfriends. Yes, all three were Cali’s men. Add in the fact that George and Clyde—yes, both of them—were currently dating Constance and anyone unfamiliar with the relatively new ways of relationships in their little town of Spring Valley would be totally bumfuzzled.
Marsha Spencer, now Marsha Bishop, was the owner of Bull’s-Eye Billiards and the one who had started the astonishing change in Spring Valley. Her relationship with brothers Porter and Reid Bishop had set the surprising stage for more ménage couples and triads to form in their once quiet little town. Since the three of them hooked up, everyone of all ages seemed to be finding their happiness in the lifestyle.
Everyone except Heather.
“That’s all Bernice wants to do,” R.J. muttered.
“Yep,” Pete agreed on a heavy sigh. “Choke, ride, and run.”
Heather’s heart sank as everyone grew silent at that. Bernice was best friends with Constance and had been R.J. and Pete’s lady friend for several months now, but it sounded as if things weren’t going well between the elderly triad. Well, if all the men wanted was sex out of Bernice then Heather supposed it was going great, but their saddened words told her they were hoping for a whole lot more and Bernice apparently wasn’t giving.
Heather wished she could say something to lift the men’s spirits, but it wasn’t like she was an expert on relationships. Hell, her own love life was in the crapper, had been since college. How could she give anyone any sort of advice?
“I don’t need chicken or a ride,” she finally told Cali, if for no other reason than to break the silence that had fallen between the six of them. “I’m happy with my life without a man or men.”
The statement was true enough, she supposed. She was happy with her life. She’d worked her ass off to earn top grades all the way through medical school, continued to work off said buns to build her own pediatrician practice in Spring Valley, and relished in the knowledge that the resident parents of her home town trusted her to care for their children rather than taking them out of town to another doctor when they needed medical attention. She’d built such a great reputation for herself that she was even often called upon to speak at medical conferences across the state.
Cali frowned and shook her head. “Sorry, girlfriend, but I don’t believe you. It’s Saturday night.”
Heather lifted her drink to her lips for a sip. “Is it really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Cali’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t get sarcastic with me. What are you going to do when you leave here?”
Go home, make myself another vodka and tonic or five, watch a romantic movie, masturbate, and fall asleep.
To Cali, she said, “I have some patient files I want to look over before Monday.”
“Monday is still another two days away,” Cali pointed out unnecessarily. “You should stay here for a while. The crowd will start pouring in soon. You should hang out.” She waggled her brows. “You never know when a hottie or three will walk in.”
Heather shook her head and lifted her glass in a mock toast. “Thanks for the words of wisdom, bestie, but I don’t see that kind of spontaneous love happening to me.”
“You might be the doctor, but I’m saying what you need is a double dirty ride.”
Heather laughed. “That’s your diagnosis, huh?”
Cali smacked her lips. “That’s not just my diagnosis, but it’s also my prescription.” She reached for an order pad and pen and began scribbling. “Double dirty ride, dosage maximum, frequency as often as possible.” She tore off the sheet and slid it across the bar to Heather.
Heather giggled softly, her heart filling with love and gratitude for her friend, even though she knew Cali’s prescription wasn’t likely to be filled in her near future…
If it ever was.
“Spread your legs and finger your pussy for us,” Slade told her, his deep baritone gruff with his own arousal.
Heather blew a breath up her face and frowned even as she started to reach for her pussy.
Austin chuckled. “I don’t think she liked that command, dude. What’s the matter, gorgeous?”
Her hand stilled on the apex of her thighs as she met Austin’s gaze. She let her attention travel down his now naked body, turned her focus on Slade and did the same, before she finally answered. “I have two outrageously sexy men with packages that should be illegal and hands that can make me forget my own name. Yet, they want me to do something I can do anytime without them present.”
The men exchanged a wordless glance and both grinned.
“Point taken, doll,” Slade told her as took a step closer to her closet. He reached inside, looking for what, she didn’t know. When he pulled out the satin belt to her robe, her heart skipped a beat. “What you’re telling us is you need our hands, not yours.”
Wicked excitement made her squirm as Slade crawled onto the bed and reached for her wrists. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant by that but…”
“You remember your safe word, right?” he asked as he bound her wrists with the satin belt. He tied the belt tight enough to keep her wrists together but not so tight she couldn’t get free if she really wanted to.
“I remember.” She barely managed to push the words around the desire clogging her throat.
“Clue me in,” Austin said as he crawled onto the bed on her opposite side. “I need to know what word to listen out for if it becomes necessary.”
“Water,” she and Slade said in unison.
Austin’s lips kicked into a devilish grin. “Because we’ll all need it to cool us off if things go that far.”
Heather laughed, albeit breathlessly. “Exactly.”
They advanced on her, each taking a throbbing nipple into his mouth to suckle and bite until she was squirming, moaning, and begging for more.
“Shush,” Slade told her, his gray-blue eyes the color of storm clouds with his own arousal. “You have to be quiet or you might wake Emma.”
She hadn’t thought about it at the time, but both men had given her lessons on being quiet while they fucked her, Austin in the supply closet at the hospital and Slade in the borrowed office. She’d learned well, too. Somehow, she managed to keep her cries and pleas at barely above a whisper as they manipulated her breasts and fingered her until she came again.
Slade gave her only a few rapid heartbeats to recover before he commanded, “On your hands and knees, doll.”
She should’ve expected it. She’d quickly realized doggie style was Slade’s favorite position. She caught sight of him rolling a condom over his massive erection as she eagerly obeying his order despite the quivering in her arms and legs. She rolled over and got into position. When Austin shifted to his knees near her head, she knew exactly what the men planned and oh, my God, she’d never experienced such a strong desire to suck a man’s cock in her life.
Austin’s was right there, jutting from between his legs like a granite come-get-me exclamation point, and her mouth watered at the sight, her taste buds going wild in anticipation.
“Suck him while I fuck you, doll.”
Slade didn’t need to repeat the order. She was beyond ready to taste Austin’s cock, to feel Slade’s deep in her pussy.
It took effort and a lot of adjustment, but Heather managed to situate her upper body where she could balance her weight on one elbow and use the slack in the binding of the belt around her wrists to get enough room to reach for Austin’s cock. She closed her fingers as much as she could around the thick shaft and gave it a pressured squeeze. He groaned. She smiled. Then Slade’s bulbous cockhead entered her pussy as she closed her lips around Austin’s cock and got her first taste of double pleasure.