Three's Company

by Eddie Cleveland

  Three’s Company

  Eddie Cleveland

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Also by Eddie Cleveland

  Thank you so much to all of the ladies from ‘Quickies with Eddie’ who contributed to this story.

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  *** If you would like to have your say in these short stories, follow the link to join my Facebook Group. ***

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  Copyright © 2017 by Eddie Cleveland

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  1

  Thud, thud, thud!

  Ugh, what the hell is that? I pinch my eyes closed tighter, not ready to face whatever is causing the sound of an elephant doing cardio in the empty side of my duplex townhouse.

  Eireech! Slam!

  My pulse quickens as my blood pressure threatens to blow the roof off this house.

  Thunk! Crash!

  That’s it! I spring my angry eyes open and they feel dry from the lack of sleep I’ve gotten. Sitting up in my bed, I can see that the sun still hasn’t even fully woken up yet. Only light streaks of rays are beginning to break through the edges of my blinds. My burning eyes gaze over at my phone reading me the ungodly time: seven-fifteen AM.

  Who the hell is doing renovations or what the fuck ever is making so much noise at this time ofday? I tilt my head and don’t hear anything.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I let my eyes flutter closed and I slump back against my mattress, snuggling comfortably under my blankets.

  I’m not what you’d call a morning person on the best of days. I feel sleep begin to roll over me like a warm, wonderful fog.

  Plunk, crunch!

  Fuck! I pop up in my bed like a jack in the box and swing my feet over the bed. This is ridiculous. I don’t know who is hosting a three-ring circus next door, but Barnum and Bailey better shut that shit down.

  I stomp across my cool tile floor and shiver, despite the rage boiling my blood. Anyone who says San Diego doesn’t get cold in the winter is a liar. I mean, obviously it’s not buried in a mountain of snow cold, but there’s a distinct nip in the air late at night. Or in this case, in the early mornings.

  I grab my little silk housecoat and cinch it around my waist. The pink fabric slides against my upper thighs as each new sound from the other side of my duplex drives nails into my brain. I step into my slippers and burst out of my bedroom door like a hurricane.

  Storming down the flight of stairs, I fling my front door open and see a long U-Haul facing me. It’s parked on the street. Flames of anger lick up in my belly as I see that it’s also blocking my little red car in my driveway.

  “Ok,” I seethe through clenched teeth, “that is it!” I walk to the open front door only a few feet from mine and peer inside for the rude new neighbor who thought this would be the ideal time to move in.

  However, all I see are a graveyard of boxes, lined up like tombstones across the living room.

  “Hello?” I call in, straining my tired eyes as I search for a human face. Of course, I don’t see anyone. I don’t hear anyone either.

  I know I shouldn’t do it, but I step inside. With the same open concept design as my side of the building, I can see there’s no one on the main floor. I take the stairs to the upper level and am shocked when I don’t see anyone in the bedrooms either. Just boxes. So many boxes.

  “Can I help you?” I startle at the deep, serious voice cutting through the silence.

  I turn and my voice catches in my throat as my eyes travel over a tall, sexy man frowning at me. I can’t help but notice the colorful sleeves of tattoos blazed over his arms or how his skin tight tank top licks the ridges of his abs.

  I clear my throat and somehow find my tongue, not to mention my temper, “Yes, I suppose you can. Who are you?” I throw my hand on my hip indignantly jutting my chin out at the stranger.

  “Who am I? You’re the one breaking into my house, who are you?” He levels me with his mahogany eyes.

  The man makes a good point.

  “Well, the only reason I came in here was to tell you to keep it down. Do you have any idea what time it is? Who moves into a new place first thing in the morning?” I snap back at him.

  “People who have a lot of unpacking to do if they want their place put together by night,” his voice rumbles like an earthquake. We get a lot of those in California. Yet, they never make me as wet as his deep baritone is now.

  “Well, that’s pretty inconsiderate you know. Not to mention a shitty way to introduce yourself to the neighbors.” He shakes his head at me and laughs. The anger that was starting to shrink down inside me flares back up.

  “You’re kidding right?” He smirks. I’d be more pissed if he didn’t look so damned sexy with that half-cocked smile on his scruffy face.

  “I most certainly am not!”

  “You came over here, in your nightie and slippers, broke into my house actually,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “to lecture me on making a bad first impression on the neighbors? You don’t see the irony in that?”

  Well, I didn’t.

  I open my mouth to answer, but another voice cuts me off.

  “Hey, man, you just took off on me. You taking a break or what?” A toned man who doesn’t look any older than the first comes around the corner. “Whoa, who’s she?” He jerks his thumb at me.

  My heart pounds in my chest as my I struggle not to drool over all this man candy. My god, as if

  Mr. Tall, Dark and Tattooed wasn’t making it hard enough to concentrate. Now I’ve got to try to form coherent sentences with his friend Mr. Yoga Body with the blond, shaggy hair and clean cut jaw that’s so sharp it looks like it could cut diamonds.

  For a moment the sight of them overwhelms me. In the best possible way. I realize my famous temper has almost been as dampened as my underwear with my desire.

  Under different circumstances, meeting these two guys could bring on some amazing opportunities.

  “I’m Mackenzie,” I answer the blond guy’s question. “And I don’t appreciate being woken up with all the noise, for one. For two, you’ve blocked in my car with your truck.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” the dark haired guy responds, “you’re pissed that it’s early and we woke you up?”

  “Right,” I nod curtly.

  “But you’re also pissed that you can’t get your car out, you know, when you were sleeping,” his dark eyes twinkle as he wordlessly calls checkmate on my complaints.

  I puff back up, ready to give him another earful, but his friend holds up his hands.

  “Yo, don’t be a dick. Sorry Mackenzie, we weren’t being very thoughtful. I’m Luke,” he holds out his hand and I shake it, his eyes are so blue, I can almost hear the crashing waves of the ocean as I gaze into them.

  “And never mind this grump,” Luke tilts his head toward the dark haired man still brooding in the doorway, “Jake’s a writer, so he’s not actually that good with people. He writes them pretty good, but talking to them when they’re all living and breathing and shit, that’s not his strong suit.” He smiles easily and I can’t help but smile back.

  “Yeah? Well for someone who’s so talented at meeting people, it’s too bad none of them will give you a real job,” Jake shoots back an
d rolls his eyes.

  “Dude, you know that’s a dagger right here, right?” He taps his long fingers over his heart and I chuckle. “My jewelry is my job, man. Anyway, stop being so mean.”

  “Whatever,” Jake answers, then his eyes hold mine in another stare-down. “I’ll tell you what, let’s make a deal, we’ll try to be quieter and move our truck out of your way and you try not to make a habit of breaking and entering. Sound fair?” He folds his tattooed arms over his broad chest and I can’t help but lick my lips.

  “Fine,” I can feel my nipples form into little peaks against my nightie. I’m sure this thin robe is doing nothing to hide the fact. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to sleep. I was up late last night bar tending and I’m exhausted,” I try to be snippy but my temper is like a solar flare. It burns hot and bright in a flash and then it’s over. Still, I try to keep my head held high as I brush past the two hard-bodied men and make my way down their stairs. I throw my red hair, fiery like maple leaves in autumn over my shoulder and make my grand exit.

  Seconds later, I’m in my side of the duplex and close the door behind me. I lean back on it and breath deeply as the images of those perfect men replay themselves in my mind.

  I need a shower. But I know there’s no scrubbing these dirty thoughts from my mind.

  2

  The warm water cascades over my skin as I tilt my head back toward the shower head. I feel my long, curly hair grow from my elbow down to my waist as the weight of the water pulls out the bounce.

  There was no point in going back to bed. Not when I’m all worked up like this. I reach for my body wash and squeeze a little puddle of the ivory liquid onto my washcloth before working up a lather of bubbles.

  The soap leaves a trail of shimmer on my skin as I drag the cloth down my arms and across my breasts.

  With my eyes closed, I picture my new neighbors in here with me. Jake, the dark and brooding one is washing my breasts while, in my mind, Luke, the blond one is kissing a path down my neck.

  Mmmm.

  I let my fingers slide between my closely shaved lips and find my clit as I let the fantasy unfold. The two of them are so tall, so powerful, they could do anything they wanted to me. The thought gets my heart racing as I imagine twice the hands on my body. Twice the tongues licking and savoring every inch of me.

  Twice the cock filling me.

  “Ohhh,” I slap my palm against the tile wall of the shower as my orgasm shudders through me quickly.

  Damn, I guess I was even more worked up than I thought. I didn’t even need to grab my waterproof rabbit vibrator to help me finish the job.

  I smile as my muscles finally unwind and my tension eases in the glow of my bliss. It might have been annoying to wake up the way I did today, but my annoyance has washed down the drain with my vanilla scented body wash.

  After all, what’s a little annoyance for an orgasm like that? I figure we’re even.

  3

  I raise my hands over my head and twist into a long stretch as I open my eyes. The guys next door made good on their word to keep things down and I managed to get caught up on some sleep with a catnap.

  Finally feeling rested, I happily hop out of bed and grab my phone. I’m shocked when it tells me it’s after eight in the evening. I must have been more tired that I realized.

  That’s the thing about working nights, they leave you like some kind of modern vampire, permanently unable to deal with daylight hours.

  And the thing with working in a bar, even a classy whiskey bar like I do, is that on your days off, the last place you want to go is out to clubs or pubs. No, tonight is all mine and I’m going to enjoy every second of it curled up on the couch with my Kindle. Maybe later I’ll catch up on some of the shows I’ve been missing with a huge, buttery bowl of popcorn. But right now, all I want to do is get lost in a nice, light read.

  I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and gasp at the state of my locks. More like red fireball, this is why I don’t got to bed with wet hair! I frown at my reflection, thinking about how long it’s going to take to fix this mess.

  Running my hands under the tap, I smooth them over my wild hair until it’s completely damp, but manageable. I’ll grab my spray conditioner in a second, first I need to finish brushing my teeth.

  No sooner than I spit into the sink do I hear a blast of music from my neighbors. Oh well, I shrug in the mirror. If they’re going to be loud, this is the time of day I don’t care. Unlike seven in the morning, when I can’t function.

  I smile as my my mind replays my introduction to Jake and Luke this morning. I know I shouldn’t have been so angry, but sometimes it’s just impossible to contain this temper inside. My mother had it. Her mother had it. There’s a long line of Irish in these veins. Maybe that’s why I’m such a natural at the whiskey bar.

  “Mackenzie!” I tilt my head as my name interrupts my thoughts. Peeping out the bathroom window down at my front lawn, I slump my shoulders over and sigh.

  “No,” I moan. “Not him. Not now.”

  I cringe as Chris stands on the small patch of green shared by me and the new neighbors holding an 80’s style boombox overhead and yells out my name again.

  Fuck.

  Here’s the other downside to working my job, without fail, you get some sad, clingy patron who is utterly convinced that you’re somehow the one for him.

  Chris is harmless, but he’s a pest. A persistent one at that. The first time he walked into my bar with his group of friends, I felt sorry for him. He was out of place with the strong, sexy men who surrounded him. Like an adult child, I could easily picture him at home playing with his still-in-the-package collector’s item comic book toys. The very grown and very hot guys he showed up with couldn’t be less like him. Where he looked like he might still watch Seasame Street, they looked like Leonardo DiCaprio and his friends from the Wolf of Wall Street.

  “Mackenzie!” He cries out again, ripping me back to the scene unfolding below.

  I sigh and rush downstairs, flinging my front door open with anger for the second time today.

  “Chris, what the fuck are you doing? Do you think you’re in a movie? Put that thing down and get out of here,” I point at the boombox he holds over his head.

  “Oh, so you do know this guy,” my head jerks over to Jake’s smug voice and smile.

  Standing in their own front entryway, Jake and Luke are enjoying the theater that Chris is humiliating me with.

  I refuse to look at their tall frames. I can’t meet their stares. In each of their hands is a beer. Jake sips his nonchalantly while this moment drags on.

  “Yeah, he’s a regular at my bar,” I snip back.

  “Mackenzie,” Chris interrupts, “I know you’ve told me there’s no chance for us, but I need you to listen to this song and look into my eyes and tell me you still don’t feel the same way,” the pale, slight waif of a man cuts in.

  He’s been frequenting my bar three nights a week since I made the mistake of taking pity on him and flirting with him, harmlessly I might add – just to make him feel like less of a loser that night.

  There’s a mistake I’ll never make again.

  “Chris, go home. Seriously, go home right now or I’m turning on the sprinklers again,” I glare at him.

  “Again?” Jake muses. “And we’re the annoying neighbors, huh? Who’s interrupting everyone's life with, well, whatever the hell this is,” he holds up his palm at Chris.

  My cheeks burn up and I turn away from Jake. I refuse to get into this with him, especially because he’s right.

  Chris lowers the boombox to his shoulder and presses play. I didn’t think this moment could get worse, but as I Want to Know What Love Is, by Foreigner fills my ears, I know that I was wrong.

  So wrong.

  “Dude, I’m cringing so hard right now,” Luke calls out as Chris raises the relic from the eighties over his head and stares me down.

  The cheesy lyrics pour from the low quality speakers an
d I shake my head.

  “Do you want us to take care of him?” Luke’s deep voice draws my gaze back to him.

  “Possibly,” I consider the offer.

  The guys both stand up taller and I reconsider, “No, don’t hurt him. He’s harmless, annoying, but harmless,” I raise my hands to stop them.

  “We won’t hurt your boyfriend,” Jake smiles.

  “He’s not my boyfriend. Not in this lifetime or any other.” I snap loudly and a look of pain flinches across Chris’s face.

  “Hey man, turn that off, will ya?” Luke calls out.

  “Not until the song is over,” Chris answers, literally standing his ground.

  “Dude, it might not sound like it right now, but that song is done. This moment is done. Shut it off, man.”

  For a second Chris stays still. The only thing moving is his eyes darting between me and the guys. Then, he listens and clicks the stop button, lowering the stereo to the ground.

  “Good man,” Jake smiles. “Listen, I think you must be confused or something because Mackenzie is already taken, bud. She doesn’t have time for this stuff.” He leaves his front door step and walks over to me.

  “Taken? By you?” Chris tries to process the idea slowly as Jake stands beside me and slings his arm over my shoulder. His beer dangles from his hand and wafts up to my nose.

  “By just me? Nah,” Jake nods at Luke, who also joins us on my step and throws his free hand around my waist.

  A shiver runs through me as I’m sandwiched by these two sexy guys.

  If only.

  “Yah, man, she’s got her hands full.” Luke agrees.

  “Not just her hands, if you catch my drift,” Jake adds.

  I’d be embarrassed by his suggestion if I didn’t sorta wish it was true.

  Betrayal for a relationship that never existed flashes in Chris’s eyes. “Oh,” he finally utters.