by Atlas, Lilly
“Toni is bringing the booze. Something about Cosmopolitans and a Real Housewives marathon. But I have wine if we want to get a head start.”
“I’m game. What’s your house guest up to tonight?” Holly asked with a wag of her eyebrows. She set the brownies on the counter before pulling the lid off. The moment those babies were exposed to air, the intoxicating scent of chocolate and peanut butter wafted directly to Jazz’s nose.
“Dayyyum those smell good. And, uh, I think he was gonna hang out with Screw,” Jazz said as she got to work, opening a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. Thankfully, watching the corkscrew disappear into the cork gave her something to focus on besides any curiosity on Holly’s face.
Too bad her friend wasn’t unobservant.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…slow down there, sister. My liver can wait a minute.” She pulled Jazz away from the counter. “Let me get this straight. The guy who’s spent the last eight months trying to get in your pants is hanging out with the guy who showed up from your past and who also happens to want to get in your pants. Those same two that caused you to blow your top at the party the other day? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Um, yes,” Jazz squeaked out.
“Are they beating each other bloody? Do I need to find them and referee? Actually, you know what? Since Gumby showed up we haven’t talked much. Are you guys…you know?” There went her hyperactive eyebrows again. “And does that mean you’re totally done with Screw? How have I not asked you all this yet?”
“Um, you’re busy with your own drama? It’s not every day a man who was imprisoned for murdering someone you love but was actually innocent shows up on your doorstep. How are you handling all that?” Jazz went back to the task of opening the wine.
Holly wagged a pointer back and forth. “While that may be true, we’re psychoanalyzing your life right now, not mine. So, nice try on the convo switch, but I’m not dumb enough to fall for it. Spill, sister.”
I had a threesome with Screw and Gumby.
The words, though on the very tip of her tongue, just wouldn’t fall out. “Remember when I said I wasn’t ready to talk about it?”
Holly’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “That’s what you’re not ready to talk about? Shit, girl, I didn’t realize you meant man drama.” Her sigh surpassed melodramatic after the first second. “Fine, leave me in the dark.” Holly winked. “Just promise me you’ll reach out if you need me.”
“Promise. Here.” Jazz held out a generously full stem glass.
“Just let me tinkle, then I’ll take it.”
Jazz laughed, probably for the first time all day, and a layer of tension melted away. “Tinkle? Really?”
With a shrug and a smirk, Holly disappeared down the hall toward the teeny-tiny half bathroom as Jazz sipped her wine.
Exhaustion settled heavy on her shoulders. Despite practically passing out after the powerful orgasm the men gave her, she’d spent much of the night tossing and turning.
They’d all woken around ten in the night, famished. She’d been too freaked out after waking with two men in her bed to allow them to stick around for a meal. In truth, it’d been the feelings of contentment that had really wigged her out. Screw at her back, Gumby at her front, both slumbering men with a hand resting on her still-naked body. She’d been warm, safe, and so damn comfortable, all she’d wanted to do was burrow in deeper and stay there forever.
That single thought had been enough to have her eyes flying open and her body jerking upright, which had woken both Gumby and Screw. They’d both seemed so…chill. As though what had happened between the three of them had been nothing more than sharing a soda. Meanwhile, she’d been screaming on the inside.
When Screw had stretched with a jaw-cracking yawn, triggering a monstrous rumble from his stomach, he’d suggested they order a pizza. Gumby had agreed without so much as a second of thought, and Jazz had been helpless to do much more than stare in confusion. When the hell had they become BFFs?
She’d been so thrown by the whole interaction, she’d ignored the clawing hunger in her own stomach in favor of telling them she was too tired to eat. When she hadn’t moved to ask them to stay, Gumby went to his room and Screw took off for his own house. Of course, neither man left before kissing the ever-loving hell outta her.
God, just the memory of Gumby’s lips on hers had her shivering. His kiss had been gentle yet insistent as he explored her mouth and awoke her arousal all over again. Then, with a wink and an offhand comment to Screw about them “hanging out” that night, he’d left her bedroom.
Since he’d fried her neural circuits, it’d taken a hot second for her brain to catch up to his words and just as she’d been about to ask Screw what the hell Gumby meant about them hanging out, the sexy jerk moved in and captured her mouth in his own kiss.
Two hot men, two sets of lips, two completely different experiences. Where Gumby had eased her into the lip-lock, Screw had pretty much devoured her. She’d barely remembered to breathe, let alone ask about Gumby’s comment. After he’d released her, spun her, slapped her ass, and given her a gentle shove toward her bed, he’d gone on his merry way, whistling. Literally whistling like he was one of the seven fucking dwarfs. It wasn’t until a solid five minutes after he’d left, five minutes of sitting on the edge of her bed and staring at nothing as her lips tingled, she’d remembered what Gumby had said.
With a sigh, she’d flopped back onto her bed where she’d spent the next seven hours tossing and turning as her brain ran in wild circles. The hottest sexual encounter of her life had replayed countless times while she wondered what this meant for them all.
Now, more than half a day later, she still couldn’t stop the whirring of her mind. Jazz was no stranger to threesomes. She may not have participated in one herself, but, come on, she’d spent many years around MCs. Threesomes were as common as leather with those guys. More than the number of participants, the who of the participants was fucking with her head. Screw and Gumby. Two men she’d though hated each other, then found out had an intense attraction to one another—and her apparently.
Top it all off with her blabbing the entire story of her scars.
Jesus what had she been thinking?
Of course, she’d been rewarded handsomely for the reveal. Soothed, comforted, made to feel safe, aroused, and given the orgasm to shame all other orgasms.
“Dayum, girl, only one thing puts that kind of smile on a gal’s face. Care to share with the class?” Holly asked as she reappeared in the kitchen.
“Drink your wine.” Jazz slid the glass toward her nosy friend just as the doorbell rang.
Thank God for small favors.
“I’ll get it,” Holly said as she took her glass and started for the door. “You finish that fantasy or…memory?”
With a snort, Jazz flipped her friend off causing a round of giggles to erupt from Holly. Within the next ten minutes her kitchen was full of all the women she considered sisters. Man, she’d have loved to have these women as blood, but they were all closer than some families, which filled a huge void.
And gave her enormous guilt for never sharing with her girls what she’d shared with Gumby and Screw last night.
“You know a lot of this is actually scripted, right?” Shell said about thirty minutes later as she munched on a Twizzler and sipped a ginger ale. At eleven weeks pregnant, she’d been craving the candy for the past few weeks. Jazz hadn’t seen her without a bag of Twizzlers since before Christmas.
“Shut up! It’s totally real.” Izzy fired back as she threw a piece of popcorn at Shell. “You know you love it.”
“What?” Shell laughed as she dodged the flying snack. “Of all of us, you’re the one who I figured would hate this shit the most.”
“Well, I do, but I’m here so I might as well watch it.”
“Bullshit! You’re a closet Housewives lover! Admit it!” Shell’s eyes widened with so much glee, Jazz couldn’t help but laugh along with the other girls.
/> If she were honest, which she tended not to be when it came to reality television, she’d admit she loved watching the ridiculous drama of these lady’s lives unfold.
“You love it so much, I bet you dream of being on an episode of the Real Hells-wives of The MC. See what I did there?” Shell laughed as another puffed kernel flew past her head. “Someone help me! I’m under heavy fire here.”
“All right, all right.” Toni yanked the bowl of popcorn out of Izzy’s reach. “Isabella, you’re a mother now. You need to set a good example for your child.”
With a snort, Izzy balled up her napkin and threw it at Toni. The crumpled paper bounced right off Toni’s forehead making the whole group giggle. And they weren’t even one full drink in. Well, Jazz was on her second, if that glass of wine she and Holly shared deserved to be counted.
She didn’t think it did.
“Okay, we ready to do this?” Holly asked, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “I’ve never seen it, so I might need one of you to fill me in.”
“You’ve never seen it?” Izzy said, eyes bugging. “Are you from this planet?”
“Who knew she was such a reality TV psycho.” Chloe leaned toward Jazz as she murmured the words.
Jazz chuckled. “Not me,” she whispered back. Then louder, “Before you hit play, anyone need a refill?” Everyone but Stephanie raised their glass.
“I’ve pumped enough to enjoy tonight, so bring it!” Izzy’s grin was slightly maniacal.
“Here, I’ll help you.” Toni stood and Jazz’s stomach dropped. “We can just make a pitcher so we don’t have to run back and forth all night.” Her smile was sweet, but her eyes said, “You can’t avoid me forever.”
Jazz swallowed a lump but nodded at her friend and boss before walking to the kitchen. It’d been a miracle she’d managed to avoid her for the half hour or so they’d been in the same house. Time to stop being a chicken shit and apologize. And not for the sake of their working relationship, though that was important, but because she loved Toni like a sister and the guilt of going off on her had been eating at her all day. Right alongside her stress over two maddening bikers.
“Toni, I’m sorry,” she said the moment they entered the quiet kitchen. “I was totally out of line yesterday. My inappropriate reaction to the tank top had nothing to do with you, the diner, or the shirt. It was some personal shit that came bubbling to the surface at the wrong time. Please forgive me. I can’t stand having tension between us.”
As though given permission to finally exhale, Toni let out a long breath that had her entire body sagging. “Oh, my God, Jazzy, you don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who is sorry. I got so wrapped up in making all these decisions for the new logo, and changing the diner’s name, I was just trying to get it done. I should never have pushed you so hard to try on the tank top. Were I a better friend, I’d have noticed the idea of wearing it made you genuinely uncomfortable.”
They stayed quiet for a moment before bursting out laughing and moving in for a hug as though Jazz’s at-work freak-out had never happened. When they broke apart from the embrace, Toni asked, “So we’re good?”
“Yes, we’re great.”
“Good, I think I drove Zach totally bonkers today with how many times I told him you must hate me for being such a bitch.” She poured a ton of vodka into the pitcher.
Jazz passed her the cranberry juice. “Toni, the last thing you are is a bitch.”
In companionable silence, they finished making the cosmos. Out of her head, the room may have been quiet, but inside her brain a marching band of anxiety pounded. “I have scars,” Jazz finally said, the words spoken so quickly, she had no idea if Toni had even heard them. Now that she’d said it once, now that she’d opened herself to the vulnerability, sharing with those she loved didn’t frighten her quite as much as it had only days ago.
When her friend stopped mixing the drinks and turned her sympathetic gaze on Jazz, she knew she’d been heard.
“Something happened right before I moved from Arizona. Actually, it’s why I moved away. It left me with significant scars I’m not comfortable showing to anyone. I don’t really want to go deeper into it, but you deserve at least a little explanation for the way I reacted to the very reasonable request of trying on the tank top.” She pressed her lips together, picking at her thumbnail while she stared at the ground.
Seeing the pity on her friend’s face would be too much right then.
“Jazz,” Toni said, grabbing her hand and giving a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you feel safe enough to confide in me, but you don’t owe me anything. Nothing at all. That being said, if you ever need to talk more, I’m here for you. My scars may not be visible under my clothes, but I promise you my insides are full of them. Painful ones I’m sure will never completely fade.”
Jazz lifted her head and her gaze connected with Toni’s. Instead of the pity and maybe doubt she’d expected, all she saw was understanding and compassion.
“Thanks, Toni,” she said, returning the squeeze.
“Please,” Toni replied as though her easy and unconditional acceptance was no big deal. “What are sisters for?”
Sisters. Not by blood, but definitely of an even stronger bond, love.
“Come on.” Toni grabbed the pitcher. “Let’s get in there before Izzy goes into Housewives mode.”
Jazz’s forehead wrinkled. “Housewives mode?”
“Mmm-hm, it’s something to see. No one is allowed to speak without pausing the television. If you need to reach for a snack, you can’t block her view, and if you need to pee you have to ask Izzy’s permission. She’ll determine how long you get in the bathroom.”
Jazz’s head fell back on her shoulders as she laughed. “What happens if you break her rules?”
With one eyebrow raised, Toni said, “You really want to know?”
“Nope.”
Laughing, they reentered the den and sat down.
“Just in time,” Izzy said as she held out her empty glass. “If you’d been any later, you’d have had to wait in the kitchen until I was willing to pause the show.”
Jazz bit her lip to keep from laughing as she caught Toni’s eye roll.
Four hours later the clock was closing in on midnight and just about all of the girl’s eyes were drooping. Izzy had gone home about ninety minutes ago, needing to relieve Jig from baby duty, but everyone else had stuck around.
As usual, they’d had a fantastic time full of sugar, booze, and more laughing than should be legal. But the best thing about the evening was how it accomplished her number one goal: taking her mind off Screw and Gumby. And for a few blissful hours, she hadn’t thought of either man. But now, as Holly clicked the TV off and the girls began to doze, the quiet brought a new round of spiraling.
She rested her head back on the couch, feet on the coffee table as she tried her damnedest to forget the way Screw’s tongue felt against her clit. Or how Gumby’s hands felt as he worked her breasts to aching points.
Just as Jazz let out a frustrated groan, a heavy pounding on the door had her jumping.
“Shit!” Toni yelled as she shot off the couch.
Shell grumbled. “Why the hell can’t they knock like normal people? Sounds like the police are about to break the door down.”
Another thump on the door. “It’s open!” Jazz yelled.
Copper walked into the den followed by Rocket, Zach, and LJ. Man, they were an impressive group. Tall, muscled, tattooed. Don’t-fuck-with-me vibes rolled off them in waves, but it faded away the second they all laid eyes on their women. She couldn’t help but seek out both Gumby and Screw though she’d known they were hanging out by themselves. Nor could she help the foolish surge of disappointment at their absence.
“Ready, baby?” Copper asked as he bent down to kiss his pregnant and quite sleepy wife.
“Mmm,” Shell responded, eyes closed. “You might need to carry me.”
With a chuckle Copper said, “I can do that.”
Only tonight, that familiar sensation was absent. Instead, she imagined Screw and Gumby walking through the door hand in hand. They’d kiss her, one at a time, before sharing a lip-lock between themselves.
She snorted out loud.
Hello unreasonable fantasy. Even if both men wanted something with her, who the hell turned a threesome into a relationship? No one she knew.
“You all right there, Jazzy?” Zach asked.
“Right as rain,” she said with a smile that felt forced.
Holly narrowed her eyes and stared as though seeing straight through Jazz’s contented façade.
“All right, here we go,” Copper said as he bent down to scoop Shell up. Before he had her in his arms, the blaring of multiple cell phones had them all jumping. Hell, it sounded like every phone in the house was ringing.
“The fuck?” Copper muttered as he shared a look with his men then pulled his phone from his back pocket. The rest of the guys did the same and within seconds a chorus of, “Fuck!” was shouted in Jazz’s living room.
The thread of panic in each man’s voice had all thoughts of sleep fleeing Jazz’s head. She and her girlfriends all sat straight up with worried expressions.
“What’s wrong?” Chloe was the first to ask.
“We gotta roll,” Copper barked. “Now!”
Without so much as an air kiss or a word of explanation, the men sprinted out of the house.
What the fuck…
“Do not leave this house! You understand me?” Copper yelled from the open front door.
They all nodded in unison.
