“Sammy,” Jack said.
“Jack,” Samantha replied.
“Just one date,” Eli said peremptorily, with the tone of voice of a man who hates waiting. “Just one date, Samantha.”
Samantha looked down at her hands, and then back up at the two men. There was a danger to them, but it was not directed at her. They were different to the bums that hung around The Spatula, the dirty men with beer-stained vests and big pot bellies dangling over cheap jeans. These were men who didn’t need to intimidate women; their selves had already been affirmed in years of struggle and bloodshed. She felt as though she were part of something bigger than her town as she sat in the presence of these two men.
“One date,” she said firmly. “I will go on one date, and it has to be in the city. I’m not having the whole town talking. And my car’s broken, so you have to drive.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Eli said, smiling.
Jack nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
She was a fool. You heard about cases like this all the time, didn’t you? Woman tricked into abduction by Navy SEALs. She would be third-page, one-paragraph news. So why then did she feel a thrill of excitement run through her at the thought? Even after Jack and Eli had left, rather unceremoniously, Samantha felt as though her life had just been promoted to something alien.
Yesterday, she had been a waitress. Today, she was a point of desire for two muscular, dangerous, captivating Navy SEALs.
Life is strange, sometimes, she thought, as she washed the coffee mugs.
*
They had scheduled the date for the following Friday, so Samantha had to endure an entire week of work before it came. She only saw Jack around twice, on his way to the store. He smiled at her and they exchanged a few words, but nobody would have guessed that they were anything more than old friends or casual acquaintances. Nobody would have guessed that they were going on a strange date in a few days. People would have thought: There goes that nice boy who fought in the war and that waitress who is always smiling. And that’s it. Upon reflection, that was how Samantha preferred it. Small towns are a hotbed of gossip. She had no desire to be the talk of the town anytime soon.
When you have worked at a place for a long time, days cease to drag or go quickly. There is a comfortable routine to them and one day is so similar to the other that they become indistinguishable. Usually Samantha floated through her work week in a kind of funk, moving here and there as though propelled by a force she neither saw nor comprehended. This week, however, she was too excited and nervous about her date to not notice the time. Each pour of coffee seemed to drag out to a full minute, and even her lunch break became a sort of chore.
But then, finally, Friday arrived.
She wished she was more excited on the day. She feared she had spent her excitement in the week. The nervous energy had been used up and now she felt nonchalant and relaxed, like none of this was any big deal, really. And she had been quite silly for thinking otherwise. Perhaps she would feel different when she saw the SEALs. Perhaps their dormant danger would awake something in her. Or perhaps this would fail and they would all slide back into their own lives.
Either way, she had to choose what to wear!
*
She stood, naked, before her mirror. She had never been the hot girl at school. Her breasts were too small. She had been called boyish many times. She thought it was a fair description. She had smallish B-cup breasts and a small waist and a petite bottom. Her skin was cloud-white and reddened rather than tanned in the sun. Her cheeks were lightly freckled and her hair was a deep wood-brown. Her eyes were blue like Jack’s. (For a short period as children they had been the “Blue-Eyed Gang”.) She wore a dress that covered her breasts but showed her sleek, well-formed legs. It was blue and sparkly. The dress in combination with the dark eye-liner brought out her eyes. At least, that was the intention. She had been told that she had eyes that were at once ferocious and vulnerable.
She left her long nails unpainted and then poured herself a glass of wine. She drank two glasses as she waited for the men. They were to wait outside her apartment in the car and call her (Jack had taken her number). She wondered if this was all some sick prank but if it was a prank, what was the joke? She didn’t need them. She was intrigued by them, yes, and curious about them, but need them? No, not now, not ever, she told herself.
She was quite happy in her humdrum life.
Jack rang halfway through her second glass of wine.
“I’m coming,” she said, and headed for the door.
She hung up, locked her door, and descended the stairs in her heels.
What am I doing? You can’t live forever. Is this right? Am I a slut now? No, slut is a foolish word created by sex-fearing men. Don’t use that pathetic word. Maybe I’m a whore, then? Now you’re just being mischievous. Are you excited? Yes. So why does it matter?
Moonlight mixed with the light from the streetlamps in orange-blue pools on the sidewalk as she walked across the street toward the car. It was a nice red car but Samantha didn’t know cars very well. It looked big and sturdy and it glinted in the light.
Eli jumped from the door and held it open for her. He was wearing a suit, giving him the look of a barbarian clad in genteel clothes. Jack, too, was wearing a suit. He smiled at her from the wheel of the car, and Eli beckoned her in. With a deep breath, she fell into the car and the door closed behind her.
No going back now.
*****
The snow had stopped in the week, replaced instead by bitter-cold air that showed your breath with each exhalation. Samantha was glad Jack had blasted the heating. They drove in silence through the dark toward the city. Barkton lay in the shadow of the city, apart and yet near enough to travel to whenever needed. It was one of those small towns that had somehow escaped the clutches of urbanization again and again. Eli sat beside her, and every so often he would smile up at her, and she would smile back. She should have felt uncomfortable, but she didn’t. She was oddly at ease with these two men.
What consumed her thoughts was their destination. Where were they going that required the men to wear suits? She was glad she had decided to dress up for this date. Date… It was a date, wasn’t it? She had never heard of a woman going on a date with two men, but here she was, a brave explorer, going boldly where no woman (that she knew of) had gone before.
*
They parked outside a tall, diamond-tipped building that thrust upwards into the night like a glittering finger. A valet climbed into the car as they got out, and drove it into the night, leaving them on a plush, purple carpet. “One of the benefits of going to war,” Eli said, with only a minor hint of irony, “is that you never spend any money.”
“So we’ve decided to make a splash of it tonight,” Jack said.
The two of them were speaking as though they were one man: as though finishing each other’s sentences and addressing her as though they were one person was the most normal thing in the world. And then they stood by her sides, Eli at her left and Jack at her right, and each of them took one of her arms. She barely had a chance to register what they were doing before the firm, reassuring strength of their arms on hers propelled her into the building.
The interior was just as glamorous as the exterior. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling and the walls were lit with medieval-style torches (though upon closer inspection they were really clever electrical lights). The whole place had a 1920s feel, with a tinge of the medieval about it. The chairs were almost thrones, high-backed and padded, but everyone drank from champagne glasses and the women’s jewelry glittered. The men at the tables looked soft and overfed, like pet pigs. Samantha was suddenly glad she had two real men with her.
Both men looked pleased. Eli in particular was looking around with the avid eyes of a man whom war has starved. His body was turned fully to the lights and when he passed a table of men and women passing around an expensive bottle of champagne. He regarded them openly, even turning his head as they were
led through the restaurant. The men at the table looked back at him for a moment, meeting his eyes, but then looked down at their table when they saw the size and beastliness of him. Eli truly was half-animal, Samantha thought.
Jack pulled her seat out for her and Samantha sat down, grateful to be off her feet and at the safety of their table. She had never been to a restaurant this fancy in her life. It was certainly a big change from The Spatula. Jack sat to her left and Eli sat to her right. They both turned inward to her, regarding her at the same time. She found herself keep her chin up, so they could better see the curve of her neck, and she was thrilled when she saw Eli’s eyes flit there, and his teeth momentarily bite his lip.
Then he blinked quickly as though awakened from a dream and grabbed at the menu. “Steak,” he grunted. “Remember, Jack, when the enemy were firing on us day and night?” He named the town; Jack nodded.
“And here we are,” Eli went on. He turned to Samantha. “It was just the two of us, Samantha. The rest were gone. And Jack turns to me and says: when we get out of here all I’ll need to be happy is a steak dinner with a pretty woman. Well, here we are.”
Samantha smiled at Jack and Eli at the same time. She felt warm, despite the coldness outside, and safe, despite the dangerous men who surrounded her. She felt something else, deep within her: a lust that pervaded her entire body. Suddenly, she was imagining what these men looked like naked.
Dirty, dirty girl, she thought.
*
Jack and Eli both ordered steaks. Samantha didn’t know what to order in a fancy place like this and the evil waiter suggested a salad for the lady. She was about to accept because she didn’t know what else to say when Eli interjected: “Get her a steak as well. How do you like it?”
“Medium,” she mumbled.
“Medium steak, please-thank-you.”
The waiter nodded briskly and went off to process their orders. As they ate, Samantha responded to their questions. What did she do for fun? Where did she work? How was she finding life, in general? Apart from the question about work, which was easy, she found the others surprisingly difficult to answer. What did she do for fun? When she got home, he would often read, or she would watch television, or occasionally she would visit Fiona, the one friend yet to fly from Barkton. She listed all these things, and her answers seemed to satisfy her questioners, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that she’d been somehow dishonest. For, did she really have fun doing any of these things? Or were they just things to fill the endless evenings?
This, however, was most definitely fun. There was no doubt in her mind about that. They drank a bottle of champagne. Samantha didn’t ask how they were paying for all this, partly because she knew (like Eli had said, war costs the solider nothing apart from limb and life), and partly because she didn’t want to ruin the magic of the evening. And the evening truly was magical.
As they drank the restaurant beyond their table began to blur and eventually it ceased to exist all together. All there was, was the three of them and the waiter who occasional brought another dish or a bottle of champagne. And when Eli leaned forward and kissed her on the neck, and tilted her head so he could more easily get to her. And she looked into Jack’s eyes the whole time. The Blue-Eye Gang reforming with another member. Eli kissed her neck again and again, his beard tickling her, his lips warming her.
Then Jack leaned into her ear. “Shall we get out of here?” he whispered.
Samantha knew she should say no. She knew that this was supposed to be a first date. She knew that she was being wild and reckless and crazy. But she didn’t care too much. Life was sweet right now.
“Yes,” she said.
*
It turned out that Jack had already booked a hotel room. Samantha tried to be offended by this but just couldn’t manage it. Eli was touching her in the back of the car and everything else was background noise. His hands moved up her legs, brushing along her flesh, moving inexorably to her vagina. Her vagina was hot and hungry for the touch. She almost grabbed his arm and thrust his hand into it, so hungry was she. Jack occasional looked back through the mirror. There was no hint of jealousy in his eyes, just eagerness to join in.
They walked drunkenly to the elevator and then they were in the room. Samantha sat at the edge of the bed and watched the men. She was feeling vulnerable and horny as hell. These men were so powerful they could do whatever they wanted to her. They were superhumanly fit and muscular and they were trained killers. She felt at their mercy and instead of being scared she loved it.
They moved on her together, as a unit. Jack went to his knees before her and put his face between her legs, his breath hot on her thighs. He breathed heavily as he moved his hands up and pulled down her underwear. She was wetter than she had been in a long time. Then he brushed his finger along her clit and she almost lost it right there. Eli pulled down the front of her dress, unstrapped her bra with one expert movement, and revealed her breasts. Lust almost exploded from his eyes. Without saying anything, he grabbed her hand and placed in on the front of his jeans. She felt his cock, rock-hard and huge through the fabric.
Jack rubbed her clit with his fingers for a time and then he pushed his face between her legs and started licking. His tongue was hot and fiery and for a moment everything—she slammed her eyes shut as the orgasm rocked through her body. She knew nothing apart from the heat between her legs and the hardness of the cock in her palm. The orgasm passed and she realized she was panting heavily, and moaning. She had heard moaning but had not connected it with her.
Eli was pulling down his pants and Jack was still under her skirt. For a split-second she was out of her body, struggling to believe that a waitress from The Spatula was having a threesome with her SEAL childhood friend and a half-beast Navy SEAL. Then the disbelief passed and she knew only pleasure.
“How do you want me?” she said, as Eli’s cock sprang up.
It was big and intimidating, a strong, hard cock.
“Bend over,” he said huskily, in a tone only a fool would argue with.
Jack released her and Samantha climbed onto the bed, baring her vagina, pushing it toward them. She didn’t think she had ever wanted to be fucked this badly. She could almost feel the animal in him. It was in the grunts and the heaviness of his breath. She knew that he saw her as only something to be fucked now. She could sense that strongly. And yet it did not offend or repulse her. It intrigued her. To be an object of this much passion was exhilarating.
She felt as though time slowed; and then finally he was inside of her. His cock was huge, pushing into her vagina, making her ache with the pain-pleasure of it. But she was wet and horny and soon she opened to him. He pushed into her slowly at first, filling her, touching her sweet spot. Jack walked around the front of her and lay on the bed on his back. She set her hands on his thighs. He had pulled down his trousers. His cock was waiting for her. She didn’t hesitate. She took it in her mouth as Eli fucked her from behind.
Jack placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her down on his cock. She gagged and moaned but was all the hornier as she choked on the enormous cock. Eli grabbed her ass cheeks, squeezing and pressing the flesh, moaning loudly. His thrusts were frantic, hungry, and he pounded her harder each moment. He was pounding her so hard now she could feel nothing apart from a pain-tinged pleasure. It was hot and violent and she fucking loved it.
She took Jack’s cock out of her mouth and rubbed it hard with her hand. “Fuck,” she moaned. “Fuck, yes, fuck, yes, yes.” She came all over Eli’s cock, squirting on him. She was embarrassed because she hadn’t squirted in a long time. But as soon as she did it, Eli moaned louder and his thrusts became sporadic and his breathing became labored. He grunted once more, and then collapsed onto her back. Her hand had tightened around Jack’s cock as she came, and now he was coming: in unison with Eli, two Navy SEALs coming in and on her.
Eli rolled aside and lay on the bed, and Jack lay on his back, panting. Samantha curled in a ball betwee
n them, surrounded by the two of them, engulfed by them: completely, utterly immersed in them. There was nowhere she would rather be right now than here, she decided.
After a while she crawled under the blanket. Without a word Eli and Jack followed. They lay like that for a long time, falling into each other’s warmth, and then sleep took Samantha and all she knew was peace.
But late that night she woke with a thought that invaded her peace like an infection: Why hadn’t Jack fucked her, too?
*****
Samantha didn’t speak to Eli or Jack for three days after the night at the hotel. She worked pretty much nonstop, working overtime shifts because the other waiters and waitresses just couldn’t be bothered. And when she did come home it was to collapse, exhausted, on her bed. Perhaps she would’ve been angrier that they didn’t contact her if she hadn’t been so tired. A part of her did worry that they had used her, but she wasn’t a Victorian flower. If they had used her, she had enjoyed it, and she had used them too. No, she told herself, let them contact you in their own time.
What worried her (a little) was the fact that neither Eli nor Jack had been seen around town over the past three days. She asked the Hag about it. The old woman sneered at her with twinkling, knowing eyes, like a witch looking into your soul. “Perhaps they have had what they came here for, yes? Perhaps they have filled their bellies. Hungry men are so kind, are they not? Full men? They’re just indifferent.”
Samantha shouldn’t have expected more. She was called the Hag for a reason. Still, it was frustrating to have no information on where they had gone. Her mind was calm on the fourth day, her day off, when her apartment buzzer sounded and Jack’s voice came over the intercom.
“Can we come up?” he said.
Samantha didn’t have to ask who the “we” was. She pressed the buzzer and threw on a nightgown over her underwear. Jack and Eli, Eli and Jack… the two of them were like two sides of one person. There was the calm, in-control side: Jack. And there was the animal, crazy side: Eli. Even when they walked into the apartment it was as though their movements were choreographed. They sidled to the couch and sat down. Samantha guessed it was their SEAL training. They had been taught how to move as one.
Alpha Vampire Romance: Vampire’s Mate (Paranormal Shapeshifter Alpha Demon Vampire Romance) (Coming of Age Werewolf BBW Shifter Women’s Fiction Short Stories) Page 5
