by Krista Wolf
“That what happens here no longer falls under the blanket protection of the city’s main slogan,” he quipped.
“Then we’ll all have to be good,” I said sweetly.
“Oh, I’ll be good,” Mason promised. “I’m always good.”
I laughed as he led me through the front door, and into the most beautiful foyer I’ve ever seen in my life.
“It’s the other guys you need to worry about,” he winked.
Twenty-Eight
MASON
She was sexy as hell, wherever they’d gotten her from. A few years older maybe, but not by much. She had the face of a twenty-one year-old, and a body to match. The curves of someone with experience. The firmness of someone who spent time at the gym.
My first reaction was jealousy. That of all the women they’d tried this with, the two of them had finally stumbled across a gem. One that shouldn’t be taken for granted, or kissed goodbye after only a date or two.
One that I’d certainly — if it were me running the show, anyway — ask to stick around.
And she was funny, too. Funny and smart. She matched the both of them line for line, joke for joke. And though I could tell she enjoyed their company, she wasn’t intimidated by them either. She wouldn’t back down an inch.
“So what part of New York?” I’d asked her, as soon we got into the car. One good thing about being a New Yorker was you could spot another New Yorker anywhere in the world.
She’d smiled, and even that part of her was attractive. “The City now, but I grew up in Bayside. You?”
“Ah, a Queens girl,” I’d grinned back at her. “Hell’s kitchen here.”
“You sure don’t sound like a standard New Yorker,” she’d said. “I mean, I can still hear the accent, but it’s not nearly as pronounced.”
“Acting class,” I’d told her, as if that explained everything. “One of the first things they teach you is to hide your accent. Unless you’re being cast as a New Yorker, of course. In which case they all expect you to talk like Tony Soprano.”
“Ah, Tony. The quintessential New Yorker.”
“Except that Tony grew up in New Jersey,” we’d both laughed together.
I’d dropped her off at her hotel, so she could freshen up and grab a few clothes. Then, after a quick stop by the guys’ place for their own things, the four of us went sailing off into the desert at a cool seventy-five miles per hour.
It was a nice ride. A fun ride. And as much as I wasn’t proud of it or anything, I ogled her in the mirror the whole way.
She was right in that we’d never brought a girl out to the house with us. Especially not one of Brody and Corey’s girls, who I knew from experience never stuck around very long. They had a strange but interesting thing going on. One that provided them with a lot of crazy stories and even wilder experiences, to the point where even I had to admit it sounded like fun.
Then again, I didn’t have much time for fun these days. I already had too many irons in the fire.
California had been good to me, at least when I first arrived. I’d found quick work and quick success, in a town that could often be slow and cruel. I was the new guy for a while, and that rocked. Even my headshots had that fresh, new car smell to them, and jobs were easy to come by.
But as Robert Frost would say, nothing gold can stay. Everything shiny eventually dulls, and unless you keep that momentum going, you end up at a dead stop.
I sure as hell wasn’t stopped yet, but the winds of change had definitely blown me off course. I’d lost some big parts, and taken some bad ones. I’d resorted to doing commercials to make rent, and pay a few major bills.
Unfortunately, that left me picking up a few odd jobs here and there… to pay the rest of them.
My agent seemed to have every excuse in the book, especially when it came to blowing me off. Either the timing wasn’t right, or the studios were tightening their belts again. The movie house wasn’t hiring. This one or that one was always going belly up. There was probably some truth to it, sure, but not to the extent Brian made it out. Through the grapevine I knew he was still taking on new clients. Younger clients, who were fresh and exciting and hadn’t been chewed up and spit out for lack of taste or flavor, yet.
Right now it was easy to get away. I had nothing lined up… not even any good prospects on the horizon. I was the out-of-work actor, waiting tables to make ends meet. Only instead of waiting tables I was doing data entry from my living room, which was a lot less glamorous and sure as shit didn’t put me in front of nearly as many movie people.
“You still doing data entry from your living room?” Corey asked, as we unpacked our food into the sleek, empty cabinets.
“You still swinging your ass back and forth for a dollar a clip?”
Corey froze, right in middle of putting a six pack into the fridge. Brody stopped dead too.
“What?” I laughed.
We ragged on each other all the time. It was brotherly. Fun. They’d never gotten offended before. Besides, they made tons more at their jobs than I ever made at—
Oh shit.
I turned, and there she was, mouth wide open. Lauren was staring back at them in total shock.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, incredulously. “You’re strippers?”
Very slowly, Corey set the beer down. Brody shrugged and went back to what he was doing.
“We prefer the term ‘dancers at an all male revue,’” he said at last.
Twenty-Nine
LAUREN
It’s not like I had a problem with it. Hell, it wasn’t like I was judging them at all. I was just shocked. Surprised. Totally blown away.
Strippers…
It made sense, from the way they looked. Their bodies were thick with muscle, but also ripped to shreds. They were taut and athletic, and so totally, unbelievably handsome. Not to mention the effortless rhythm in the way they’d danced with me…
“Yeah,” Brody admitted finally. “We tend bar and bus tables during the day. All told, we hustle our asses off. But most nights?” He shrugged again. “We dance.”
“Without much in the way of clothes,” Corey finished for him.
I reached out and grabbed one of the beers still on the counter. Twisting the cap off in my hand, I took a long swig.
“So?”
Mason folded his arms appreciatively across his chest My other two lovers just stood there and grinned.
“Told you she was perfect,” Brody said.
“Strippers — I’m sorry, male dancers,” I smiled. “Wow. Can’t say I expected that.”
“What did you think we did for a living?” asked Brody.
“I guess I didn’t consider it,” I shrugged. “I sorta figured the three of us were in a don’t ask, don’t tell situation.”
My eyes followed Mason’s, examining his reaction. Obviously I knew that he knew. So far he was playing very cool about it, and that made me comfortable.
For the next few minutes I helped them unload and unpack. With four of us working together, it didn’t take long.
“This place is absolutely gorgeous,” I said, looking around for the fourth or fifth time. It really was, too. “I mean… holy shit.”
“We rent it through a friend of a friend,” said Mason, “so we get a very good deal. Otherwise…”
“Otherwise we’d be slumming it,” smirked Corey, as he loaded a few additional beers into a small Styrofoam cooler. When he started throwing ice over the top, I looked back at him curiously.
“We uh… going somewhere?”
“Yes,” he said happily. “Outside.”
“But it’s nighttime,” I said. “In the desert.” I glanced out through a wall of giant glass panes, into the moonlight nothingness. “It’s cold out there. Real cold.”
“Not where we’re going,” Mason winked at me, before disappearing into a bedroom.
Now I was really confused. We’d come out here to get away from Vegas. To
a steel and glass house so beautiful, so expensive-looking, it easily could be the cover of any architectural magazine anywhere.
And now we were going somewhere?
I turned and the guys were all gone; presumably in the three separate bedrooms, unpacking their clothes. I walked the place in a slow circle, sipping my beer. Admiring the angular, but somehow still comfortable-looking furniture. The brushed metal light fixtures, hanging from the sloped, cathedral ceiling.
The kitchen was sleek and beautiful, with a wide island and a big gas range. I could picture them here, enjoying the solitude of the desert. Drinking and joking and reminiscing about old times together, while making all new memories to talk about.
But they’ve never brought a girl here…
I started wondering where they were taking me. Obviously this whole thing was spur of the moment, so it’s not like they had something planned. Wherever it was, I hoped it wasn’t far. I really liked this place. I wanted to stay here with them for as long as I could, while trying to forget all about the fact that I was flying home in just a few short—
“Ready?”
I turned, just as Mason walked past me… without a shirt on. His body was every bit as amazing as Brody’s and Corey’s, only taller and leaner. Maybe even more defined, if such a thing were possible.
“Wait, what?”
I was practically mesmerized by his long, rippled torso. His ‘V’ shaped body tapered impressively upward to where two strong pecs dominated his broad, hairless chest.
He caught me staring, and I blushed hard. Rather than respond, he only smiled deviously.
“I said, are you ready?”
Brody and Corey emerged, sans shirts as well. One of them grabbed the cooler. The other took me by the hand and led me backwards, past the kitchen. Out through the back door, and onto a smooth slate patio…
… where a large hot tub stood steaming in the cold, desert night.
Thirty
LAUREN
My three handsome hosts wasted no time. Mason and Brody slid the top off the hot tub, while Corey pushed the cooler up against one edge. Then they jumped in, by deftly leaping over the sides. Not even bothering to use the little staircase butted up to the front of the tub, for just that purpose.
The sounds they made as they sank beneath the swirling waters actually came in stereo. Low moans of pure pleasure that, if I weren’t freezing my ass off, would turn me right the fuck on.
“So are you coming in?” Mason asked, holding his beer well above the waterline. “Or are you going to just stand there and freeze?”
Now it was my turn to fold my arms across my chest.
“I don’t have a bathing suit and you know it.”
They grinned back at me, knowingly. I didn’t have to wait very long for what inevitably came next.
“Why in the world would you need one?”
Brody and Corey shrugged helplessly from opposite sides of the tub. Mason still looked unapologetic, however.
“Just strip down to your panties,” he said. “It’ll be like a bathing suit anyway.”
“And how do you know I’m even wearing panties?” I teased.
He saluted me with his beer. “Because the guys told me you were a good girl.”
Sighing heavily, I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks. Then, with all three of them eyeing me like a juicy steak… I shimmied out of my overly-expensive pre-ripped jeans.
The cool night air stippled my skin. It sent wave after wave of gooseflesh, rolling over my naked thighs.
“Alright, move over,” I said, climbing the stairs in my fresh new thong. With practiced ease, I popped my bra off and pulled it through one of the arm holes.
“Wait,” said Brody. “Your shirt.”
I looked down at my T-shirt as if seeing it for the first time. “What about it?”
“No reason to get it wet. Take it off.”
My eyes somehow found Mason’s. My stomach did a little flip-flop.
“No way I’m going topless,” I protested.
“You are,” said Corey simply, “if you’re still following our rules.”
Holy shit. Between the change of plans, and all the confusion, I’d forgotten all about the rules the guys had set forth for our second date.
“Are you telling me to take my shirt off?” I asked, semi-obediently.
My pulse was getting faster. I could feel myself heating up, despite the cold.
“I am,” said Corey evenly.
I stared back at him defiantly for a moment, giving him a second or two to change his mind. Only if I were being honest… I didn’t want him to change his mind.
No, I was thriving on the idea of taking orders. Getting off on the excitement of being told what to do. And as the knife of excitement twisted another half turn in my stomach, I realized something.
I actually loved him telling me to do this.
Moving with intentional slowness, I peeled the shirt from my body inch by tantalizing inch. When my breasts finally fell free against the crisp night air, my nipples stiffened almost instantly.
“Now we’re talking,” cheered Mason.
Brody took my hand as I stepped carefully into the steaming hot tub. The hundred-degree water felt amazing! Totally baptismal. In less than three seconds I’d immersed myself fully, all the way in up to my neck.
“GOD this is SO GOOD!”
My entire body — much to their disappointment — was now completely invisible beneath the bubbling jets. I settled in between Brody and Corey, as they each shifted their bodies in my direction.
How the hell is this thing so hot already, anyway?” I asked, as Corey handed me a beer from the cooler.
“I had the owner turn it on ahead of time,” said Mason.
Using my thumb and middle finger, I flipped my bottle cap at him. He ducked just in time to prevent it from bouncing off his forehead.
“So you knew we were going hot-tubbing while I was up in my suite, grabbing some clothes?”
“Oh yeah,” Mason acknowledged.
“And you didn’t tell me to bring a suit?”
“You didn’t need one,” he smiled.
Thirty-One
LAUREN
I was mostly teasing him, of course. With Brody and Corey on either side of me I felt comfortable being topless, even in Mason’s presence. He was funny and charming, and it quickly became obvious he was more than just the guys’ best friend. As story followed story and the beer flowed down our throats, I could see he was more like a brother to them.
I learned more about his time in California, and how his career wasn’t panning out the way he’d hoped. Some of it was dumb luck, I knew that. Great actors could get discovered overnight, rising from obscurity simply because they were in the right place at the right time.
Luck aside however, any career in the public eye had to be worked at — and no one knew that better than me. After just a few minutes of conversation, I could tell he wasn’t well-represented. That Mason’s agent was doing him a grave disservice, and that he’d probably do well to sign with another one.
He had looks for sure… God did he have looks! He was exceptionally tall and well-built — a great combo to start — but there was also a unique twist on his handsomeness that made him appear both devious and stunning.
“You ever play the villain?” I asked casually.
Mason tipped his bottle back and shook his head. “Not really, no.”
“You should,” I told him. “You’ve got a certain look to you. One that would melt a girl’s heart and make a guy hate you, all at once.”
“Hey, that’s how I feel about him!” joked Brody.
But Mason could tell I was serious. He was staring back at me with interest now, thinking about what I’d said.
“Your agent needs to be looking for bad guy parts,” I said. “Not the sappy crappy handsome hero stuff you’ve been doing. I mean, look at the arch of your eyebrows. The little underbite in the squareness of your jaw. You have gr
eat sardonic expressions. You can very easily look devilish.”
“Great sardonic expressions?” Corey repeated incredulously. “What the—”
“You should be trying out for the role of the antagonist,” I went on. “Also, your social media pages haven’t been updated in weeks, some of them in months. I checked them on the way out here. And I don’t know who your photographer is, but you could also use more flattering photos. Most of them don’t come anywhere near showing how handsome and unique-looking you really are.”
Two hands slid around my waist, and suddenly I was being pulled backwards. I ended up in Brody’s lap, his hands resting between my thighs. Beneath the soothing, bubbling waters no one could see his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of my tiny thong.
“You might be right about some of that,” said Mason, still in deep thought. “I never really looked at things that way.”
We exchanged a smile and then his eyes fell lower, to where my breasts were mostly out of the water now. Sitting in Brody’s lap had exposed them down to the nipples.
For some reason, I made no move to cover up.
“Maybe you should come out to Hollywood for a few days,” Mason suggested. “Set me on the right path.”
Corey had slid close enough to start touching me too. His own hand began wandering up my other leg, just as Brody began pulling my thong aside…
“You trying to steal our girlfriend, bro?” he laughed.
“Not trying to steal her,” Mason shot back. “Maybe just borrow her for a little while.”
The double-meaning wasn’t lost on any of us. I tried to keep my composure, even as a pair of fingers slid hotly inside me.
“Someone who looks like you shouldn’t have girl trouble,” I said. “I’ll bet you meet plenty of women in Hollywood, both groupies and starlets.”
Mason made a face. “There’s a difference between meeting women and meeting good women.”
