Two Is Better Than One (Steamy Menage MFM Romance Collection)

by Terry Towers

  “Besides, you know what they say about men with too much muscle,” a deep male voice said from behind me.

  “No, what?” I replied without thinking, then groaned inwardly, hating that some dude was going to try and butt into our discussion as a way to strike up a conversation. I didn’t bother to turn to face him, hoping he’d just go away.

  “Over compensating,” he replied, undeterred.

  Rolling my eyes, I looked over my shoulder, half-way turning. I wasn’t even going to give him the privilege of a full turn. My lips parted as I was about to tell him that this was a girls’ only conversation and he wasn’t included, when my eyes locked with a pair of the most stunning dark blue eyes I’d ever seen. When my eyes finished their visual feast of his, my gaze lowered to his lips, which had turned into a cocky little grin as he began to speak again. I watched his lips move as if in a trance.

  “By the look you just gave me, I’m going to assume this is a girls’ night only and by interrupting it came off as more annoying than charming.”

  “I, ummm.” My cheeks grew warm as I cringed. I wasn’t normally a rude person, honestly. Him calling me out on it made me feel bad.

  “Come on now, I’m trying to work on my pick-up lines. Your input would be really appreciated.”

  Laughing, I shrugged, turning to face him fully. Okay, so perhaps he had some charm, I’d give credit where credit was due. “It wasn’t the best line. But I’ve heard worse.”

  The man standing before me laughed along with me a moment. “Okay, then how about we do this the old-fashioned way?” He extended his hand to me. “I’m Nate, nice to meet you.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, I accepted his hand. “Layla.” I really hoped he wasn’t so corny as to sing a line from Eric Clapton’s “Layla”. I’d had men do that to me in the past, and it made me embarrassed for both myself and them.

  “Beautiful name.” His smile widened as his eyes quickly did a sweep of my body, pausing at my cleavage. He didn’t pause long enough to come off as creepy, just long enough for me to notice. Modesty was screaming for me to cover myself up, but I ignored the temptation. Not like I had anything to cover up with anyhow. Wasn’t the whole point of coming here, to quote Misty, to get under a new man. And Nate seemed to be as good as any—at least as far as appearances went. We’d see about the rest.

  “Thanks.”

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  I held my glass up for him to see. “Got one.”

  Giving me a sheepish grin, he shrugged. “I see. Then how about after you’re finished with that one, I pay for the next.”

  “Perhaps.” I took a sip from my drink. “Why would you need to use a pick-up line anyhow?”

  His smile faded a bit, but the amusement remained in his eyes. “Then what would you suggest?”

  “A simple, hey, how’s things going?” I gave it a moment’s thought. “Or maybe, I’m Nate, I’d like to get to know you. The classics never die.”

  He cringed, but I could see he was simply mocking me. “Those are really corny lines. I don’t think they’d work. Good thing I didn’t choose you as my wingman.”

  Speaking of wingmen, or in my instance wingwoman… I looked around me, but Misty was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, she’d gotten up and taken off somewhere along the line. Frowning, I looked back at Nate.

  “She left a minute or two ago.”

  “She left? Where?” Would she just take off on me like that? That wasn’t safe. I had to say, I was a little annoyed. Nate could be a psycho for all I knew! Hot men could easily be crazy too. Hell, it was easier for hot guys to be crazy, they barely had to work to get a victim.

  “Dunno, she’s your friend. But I will tell you that she gave me a thumbs up before she left.”

  My eyes narrowed at him, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that a fact?”

  “It is indeed.”

  “How do I know you’re just not saying that.”

  “You don’t, but I’m sure she’ll be back eventually, so you can verify it with her when she returns.”

  That did seem like something Misty would do. If he turned out to be a wack job, I’d blame her. Of course that would be little consolation if I ended up raped and dead in a ditch somewhere. Shit, I was beginning to sound like my mother. I groaned inwardly. Maybe Misty was right, I’d become too uptight. No matter where I met someone, bad things could happen. It was a chance you had to take when dating. Hell, it was a chance you took going outside each day.

  But still… She could have at least told me where she was going to be. She was going to get a sternly worded text when I was through with Nate!

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure she didn’t go too far.” He touched my bare arm, his fingertips lingering just above my elbow, and I felt a tremor of heat race through me. When I was with my ex, I hadn’t had physical reactions to other men. My heart, body, and soul had been his. It had been a long, long time since I’d had any type of reaction towards being touched by any other man. If I were to be completely honest with myself, the spark that had originally been with my ex had slowly faded. I wasn’t sure when exactly the attraction for him began to erode; it was such a slow decline that I hadn’t even noticed until we were more like roommates than lovers. Truth was, I’d forgotten how much I liked the feeling of exhilaration that pulsed through my body when someone I desired touched me. When Nate pulled his hand away, I sighed.

  Damn, talk about feeling like a schoolgirl. But I didn’t care. This rush felt nice and it made me long for more intimate contact.

  Best way to get over a man is to get under another one… Misty’s words rang out in my head. Over and over, her words cycled.

  “You all right?”

  Nate’s voice drew my attention back to him. I smiled and drank down the remainder of my cocktail, holding up the empty glass. “I think I could use that drink.”

  “Great. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Drawing my lower lip between my teeth, I nodded. “Promise.”

  Turning, Nate began making his way over to the bar, and I watched him from behind. Damn, he was hot. The blue cotton t-shirt he was wearing stretched taut across his shoulders and defined his lean torso. And oh sweet Jesus, that ass. It was round, yet tight, under the dark jeans he was wearing.

  “Lucky bitch. If you don’t ride that bronco I’m going to be sorely disappointed.”

  I yelped, nearly falling off the stool I was sitting on at the sound of Misty’s voice yelling into my ear. Damn, that girl was stealthy!

  “Where’d you go?” I hissed, my eyes narrowing at her.

  “Giving you some space to work your magic.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “I have no magic, that’s the problem. If I had magic I wouldn’t have been dumped by my fiancé.” I wished the words hadn’t sprang to my mind, or left my mouth. I was bumming myself out.

  “Oh lord, never blame yourself for that idiot’s bad choices.”

  But I had. I’d blamed myself over and over again. Wondering what I’d done wrong. I genuinely hoped the self-blame would end soon. No matter how many self-help books I read, or ‘getting over your ex’ blogs I browsed all saying the same thing—“don’t blame yourself”—I still couldn’t help it. Why would he want another woman if I’d been enough for him?

  “Oh shit.” Her eyes widened as she looked over my shoulder, and I followed her gaze to see Nate returning with our drinks in hand. “Gotta go. If you need me, text me. But unless you need a ride home after taking the hoochie walk of shame the morning after being royally fucked, don’t you call me.”

  “Hoochie walk of fame, really Misty? Have you forgotten we’re no longer college kids?”

  She didn’t respond, but spun and took off, disappearing into the sea of people.

  Chapter 2

  Nate

  I’d been eyeing Layla and her friend for a little bit, deciding which one would be warming my bed tonight before making my move. While Layla’s friend looked like she would be a good romp, there wa
s something about that dark-haired vixen that drew me in. Her long, black hair flowed halfway down her back and shone under the lights. And her body, hot damn, it was smoking. That red dress she was wearing accented the curves of her breasts and full, round ass. She was a little on the thick side, but I loved a woman who had curves in all the right places.

  But she seemed a little uptight, and she was clearly uncomfortable being here. And there was a sadness in her eyes when she looked at me, despite the smile on her lips.

  I stopped on my way back to her, at roughly the halfway point. Was I taking advantage of her? Maybe she’d just been dumped and was just looking for a rebound lay. Did it matter? It never mattered to me before. If she ended up in my bed by the end of the evening it was her choice, not mine. I was hardly forcing her into anything, and was only giving her the option of having a night to remember.

  But nothing more…

  She smiled at me, catching my gaze. When her friend noticed me heading towards them, she scampered off before I reached their table. Sliding onto the stool beside Layla, I passed her the drink I’d picked up for her.

  “I was told one of the cardinal rules of meeting people in bars was to never allow them to get you a drink without watching it being poured,” she said with a teasing gleam in her eyes as she fingered the dainty straw.

  “That’s a good rule, but I ran out of roofies on the last girl I tried to pick up so I only have my charm and conversational abilities to get you into bed tonight.” Holding my breath, I waited to see if she’d laugh or be offended. With the chick sitting across from me, I guessed it could go either way. But that was part of the appeal. If there wasn’t at least a little bit of a challenge, it wasn’t as satisfying.

  For a moment, her expression was unreadable, but then a wide grin broke out onto her lips and she laughed. “I’m not sure if I should read you as being cocky or confident.”

  Giving her my patented sheepish grin that caused dimples to appear at my cheeks, I shrugged. Women loved my smile; nine times out of ten they fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. “Perhaps a little of both.”

  “I just got out of a long-term relationship.”

  “I just got out of numerous short-term relationships, and a few one night only events. Breaking up hurts, that’s why I don’t get involved.”

  She lowered her mouth to the straw and took a long drink, closing her eyes as if savouring the fruity flavour. Boy, did I have some ideas of where I’d like to have those lips. With a little bit of luck I’d be making those fantasies a reality within the next few hours. Seeing her on her knees worshipping my cock would be a beautiful sight indeed.

  “That’s a pretty sad way of looking at things.”

  “Why sad?” I was genuinely perplexed. The last feeling I would have expected a woman to have for me was pity. There was nothing worthy of a person’s pity. I’d made a mistake many years ago, when I was young and foolish, of falling into the love trap, and that just wouldn’t happen again.

  Lowering the glass and setting it back on the table, she shrugged. “Going from woman to woman with no real connection or bond beyond the physical. Forgoing the intense connection that comes with being with someone, for what, a parade of women and meaningless sex? It’s sad.”

  Her words hit a nerve that I didn’t even think existed and my jaw clenched. This wasn’t turning out nearly as well as I expected it to. I wanted to get laid and feel good, not delve deep into my deepest emotions and lay them out on the table. If I wanted to do that I’d go to a fucking shrink.

  My eyes scanned the crowd behind her; there were tons of women to choose from. “Well…” I smiled at her again, but my smile wasn’t nearly as bright. “Thanks for the chat.” As I turned to leave, I was surprised to feel her delicate hand wrapping around my upper arm, holding me back.

  “Wait. Nate, hold up.” Her grasp loosened as I turned to face her again, the semi-hard-on that had been shrinking suddenly filling out once more. “I could really use some stress relief right now.”

  My eyes narrowing, I stared hard at her to see if she was serious or just playing some sort of game. She looked serious. There was also pain in her eyes. Many people might have considered me a pig for my behavior, but even a pig like me had limits and blatantly taking advantage was one of those limits—no matter of fucking sexy this woman before me was.

  “All I can offer is tonight, baby.” Reaching out to her, I twirled a lock of her hair around my index finger. Damn, her hair was like satin. It would feel amazing draped across my thighs. She closed her eyes and I could hear her sighing, despite the loud music blocking out the sound. “That’s all I ever offer.” Broken or not, she was an adult and from what I could tell, not intoxicated. She was capable of making an informed decision.

  There was a slight hesitation, but it was so slight I was easily able to dismiss it as my imagination. My dick had made it easy to overlook a lot of things in the past.

  “Then how about we get out of here?” she finally said.

  “You wish is my command.”

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Layla

  “Excuse the moving boxes. I moved here without much notice and had to settle for this place until I could find a new one.” Truthfully, I would have preferred going to his place. This apartment—shit, the entire building—was a complete dive. I fully expected to come home one day and find a homeless person camped out in the lobby. I hadn’t yet, but eventually… Luckily, this was my last week in this shithole.

  “It’s cool.”

  He didn’t seem to be bothered by the building or the disarray of the apartment. It made me wonder about his place, to be honest. Or perhaps he was so horny that he didn’t care. Most likely the latter.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked, leading him through the living room and into the tiny kitchen which had just enough room for a tiny two-person table.

  “What do you have?”

  Opening the fridge, which I assumed to be older than my twenty-six years, I peered in. The fridge section froze many liquids and the freezer section just barely kept things in a solid state. Needless to say, I ate out frequently.

  This was embarrassing. As far as liquids went there were two options, a cheapie bottle of white wine and Minute Maid orange juice. I grabbed the neck of the wine bottle and squealed as I turned to find Nate standing directly behind me.

  “I’ve got…” I didn’t get the chance to finish my statement. Taking the bottle of wine from my fingertips, he placed it on the countertop beside us and then leaned into me, his lips brushing against mine.

  “The wine will do,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  I waited with bated breath for him to lean in further and capture my lips with his own, and each second that passed made my heart beat just a little faster. It seemed to take an eternity before it finally happened and his lips claimed mine.

  The wait had built up such a need within me that as our kiss deepened, I groaned out loud, slipping my hands up his muscular chest and lacing my fingers behind his neck. Pressing my breasts against his chest, my body seemed to melt into his. Our bodies forming together so well it felt as though they were meant for each other.

  It felt so damned good to feel his warm, hard body moving against me, his tongue dancing with mine. As we continued to kiss, his impressive full erection rubbed against my groin, forcing my thong to slip between my slit and entice my clit.

  I groaned against his open mouth. The passion within me was stronger than I’d ever encountered before. This was a stranger, and I had no mental or emotional bond with him, but my body didn’t care, and that seemed to be the part of me in control. Despite my reservations of having a one-night stand, the thought that I was doing something shameless and wild fueled the desire within.

  His mouth left mine and his lips began a journey along my jawbone and to the side of my neck just as he pushed up against me once more, sending me backwards and into the open refrigerator.

  “Oh shit!” I cried
out in pain as one of the shelves sharply pressed into my lower back.

  “Fuck. Layla. Sorry.” He pulled me out of the fridge and took a step back, allowing me room to make way for the fridge door, closing it. “Are you all right?” He began an unnecessary frantic search of my body.

  “I’m fine. Fine.” I was more embarrassed and disappointed the mood was broken than in pain. How many women were so clumsy that they ruined the mood by falling into an open fridge?

  “Turn around.”

  My brows knit together as I considered his request.

  “I want to make sure your dress is okay.”

  “It should…” I felt behind me and whimpered as my fingertips found a tear in the material. Slowly, I turned. “How bad is it?” I never spent much money on clothing. I was a Macy’s sale girl all the way. Being an accountant tended to make people money smart to the point of being frugal. I’d seen too many people go bankrupt for frivolous spending. However, to boost my confidence and partially due to the insistence of Misty, I’d decided to splurge on a two thousand-dollar Herve Leger dress—something that my body would ‘rock’. I had to wiggle my way into their largest size, which was the equivalent of a size twelve, but dammit, I’d managed and it looked so good on me. And it was now ruined after wearing it for less than three hours. I could have cried. No doubt there would be a tear or two shed after he was gone over flushing two grand down the toilet.

  “I hope this dress didn’t cost a lot. It looks expensive.”

  I didn’t reply, embarrassed over the amount I’d paid. He’d think I was a fool had I told him.

  “It’s got quite a tear, perhaps an inch or so. You should get it off as quickly as possible before the damage gets worse. You might be able to salvage it.”

  He didn’t sound optimistic.

  I sighed. Reaching behind me, I realized I was going to need his help unzipping the back, otherwise I might end up making the tear worse. A moment ago, when his lips were on my neck, I would have been happy to be naked in front of him, but in this situation, I was hit with a bout of modesty.