But hey, at eighteen, you can still look alluring even with make-up caked on. What the hell. Maggie raised a glass of beer and shrieked, “Cheers!”
And we giggled in return, clinking our glasses before sipping our drinks, pink cosmos and fizzy glasses of champagne, chattering, wiggling. We were a fun bunch, attractive, sexy, all bouncy female flesh and big smiles.
And it didn’t take two minutes before a guy sauntered over to us.
“Heya,” he whined, his voice high-pitched. The guy was nothing to look at. In fact, I was surprised he’d made it past the bouncer since he didn’t look a day over sixteen. Pimply and oily, with a terrible haircut, the only thing that made it worse was that he was dressed like an IT guy in khakis and a blue button-down. Oh god.
I held my breath. Usually guys like this are attracted to me like a moth to flame, I sometimes wonder if there’s a sign over my head with bright lights and an arrow pointing, “Here! Here!” But this time my luck held out. The pimply guy, trying to seem casual, sat himself down … next to Lucy. I breathed a sigh of relief. I really didn’t want to spend the next fifteen minutes being kind to someone I had absolutely zero interest in.
“Hiya,” he breathed. Even from across the table, I could feel the gust of warm wind, damp, rank, and gross. My nose scrunched up involuntarily before I remembered my manners and smoothed my features out, trying to look impassive, polite.
But Lucy was on another wave length. Instead of giving the guy the cold shoulder, the pretty blonde turned to face him with a big smile on her face, eyes gleaming, throwing a lock of hair over her shoulder flirtatiously.
“Hi, I’m Lucy,” she chirped, “what’s your name?”
This time I couldn’t control my facial expression and my mouth hung open in disbelief. What in the world was happening? My friend was a looker with a sparkly personality, why was she giving this guy the time of day? She could do way better, she was a ten.
But the IT dude was eating it up.
“I’m Ken,” he simpered, all the while staring at Lucy’s cleavage, then her waist, then her legs, his eyes crawling over every inch of her figure. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m good,” purred Lucy in return. “How are you?”
“Good, good,” he chuckled in return, as if not believing his luck. “I’m doing good.” And before my shocked eyes, his hand crept over so that it was cupping Lucy’s knee, a soft, effeminate hand that was probably used to stroking computer mice and refilling printer trays.
At this point, I tried to intervene, to throw my friend a lifeline.
“Um, Luce, you wanna go to the bathroom with me?” I asked, staring at her meaningfully. It was a tried and true tactic – ladies always take off for the washroom together to powder their noses, reapply lipstick, just get away if need be.
But Lucy wasn’t having it.
“Oh no,” she said airily, not even looking at me. “I’m good, thanks. I want to get to know … um, Ken, was it?” she said, purring again while gazing deeply into his eyes.
I was dumbstruck but Maggie elbowed me in the ribs.
“Leave them alone,” she hissed. “Remember? The pact we made, she’s doing the pact.”
And I groaned internally. Oh right, that. I’d thought it was more of a joke than anything, but I guess some of my friends were taking it seriously. The five of us girls had talked about getting laid one last time before leaving our little country for the big, wide world. It was ridiculous, really. I mean, we had what … twelve hours to make good on the promise? I knew for a fact that Lucy was on a plane at six a.m. tomorrow morning, departing for Luxembourg.
But maybe that’s why she was working it so hard. With less than twelve hours, she had to take whatever came first, and evidently, she’d decided Ken was enough.
Besides, Maggie was elbowing me again.
“Check it out,” she whispered, sliding her eyes to the left, speaking out of the side of her mouth. “That’s why Lucy wants him.”
I glanced where she pointed and gasped, my eyes bugging out. Because Ken had a massive boner, one that he wasn’t even trying to hide. The dude must have had a ten incher going strong, poking out vertically, the crotch of his khakis a massive tent that no one could miss. Either that, or he had the biggest cell phone ever in his pocket … one that came with an antenna that was sticking straight up.
“Holy,” I gasped, “Oh my god.”
The two continued to chatter away, Ken’s hand making its way up Lucy’s thigh as she leaned towards him, their lips almost touching. But I could also see the blonde’s hand inching towards his crotch, as if drawn by magic to that giant disturbance in the universe’s energy field.
“Yeah,” smirked Maggie. “So leave them alone, Lucy’s going to have a good time tonight. Besides, what about us?” she asked, swiveling her head to survey the rest of the bar. “We’ve gotta get hopping, tempus fiat, you know?”
I laughed.
“Mags, I think it’s tempus fugit, not tempus fiat,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Time flies, right?”
“Oh whatever,” replied Maggie, making a silly face. “You get what I …”
And she never finished the sentence, her voice trailing off, because her attention had been captivated by something across room.
I followed her gaze. What could have made my flighty friend stop mid-sentence, her thoughts on pause? Mags wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, sure, but she wasn’t ADD either. But then I saw what she saw and inhaled sharply.
Because he was gorgeous. Tall, dominating, athletic, with wide shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, thighs as thick as tree trunks, and the blackest hair this side of the Ural Mountains.
And best of all, there were two of them. Two gorgeous, powerful alpha males, identical twins, and they were looking right back at us, blue eyes penetrating, magnetic even across the crowded room.
“Oh my god,” gushed Maggie. “Let’s go talk to them!”
Usually I wasn’t so forward, I need some time to summon my courage, but this tempus fugit thing was evidently lighting a fire under our asses, and Mags had already jumped up and was making her way across the room.
“Um, excuse me,” she said, shoving one small guy with drinks in his hands out of the way.
“Hey!” he protested as his drinks sloshed.
“Sorry, sorry!” she called. ““Coming by, coming by,” she called out, stepping on people’s toes in her haste to cross the room.
And what could I do but follow? I trailed along in my friend’s wake, slightly embarrassed but trying to hold my head up, and in a few seconds, we were standing in front of the two men.
Up close, they were even more gorgeous than before. Chiseled features accented square, masculine jaws, with deep, dark blue eyes that I could drown in. Plus, they were tall, really imposing close up, at least six four with muscular, athletic physiques.
“Um, hi,” I managed, my mouth dry. Was that really all I could say?
But Maggie took over like a pro.
“Hi, I’m Maggie, this is my friend Tina,” she said sweetly, winking at the two men, “and you are?”
The guys looked at each other before answering.
“I’m Karl, this is my brother Kato,” said one. Oh god, his voice was as smooth as honey, I could almost feel it running over my body, oozing like golden goo.
But Maggie was on the ball.
“Oh good, you guys new to the Old Dog? We haven’t seen you around before,” she said, cocking out a hip flirtatiously, emphasizing her perfect figure with a hand on one hip.
The guys looked at each other again before answering.
“Yeah, we’ve never been to this port before. We’re merchant marines in the service of our country. Karl here is a fleet technician and I’m a gunner, we’re aboard the USS Tompkins, docked in Andorra Harbor.”
I nodded, looking at the men. Our country is a city state, consisting of no more than four million people. As a deep water port, Andorra has a long naval history, and merchant
mariners often took leave here, or at least deboarded for a day or two of rest and relaxation. So we were used to seeing Americans around town, brawny, muscular guys looking for some R&R before heading out to sea.
Plus, the two guys looked like sailors. Out of uniform they wore casual clothes, jeans and t-shirts that emphasized the width of their shoulders, the hardness of their chests, the power and dominance unmistakable. And they carried themselves well, standing tall and proud, heads held high. More than likely, these guys were good with their hands and could fix stuff around the house, unlike the male courtiers I usually met, who were wispy and soft, useless when it came to anything practical.
But I brushed all that out of my head. It was my destiny to marry some dude of noble birth, even if he was four feet tall with a lisp. There was no point in complaining about it or even thinking about it on my last day at home. Instead, I suddenly knew what I wanted.
“Hey,” I said softly.
The two men turned to look at me, those blue eyes penetrating, taking me in for the first time. And my body tingled as I thrust my breasts out unconsciously, leaning forward on my toes, my chest heaving.
Because I wanted them. I wanted one or both, I wanted to fulfill my part of the pact tonight with these men, and suddenly I was willing to box out Maggie if that was what it took. Turning on the charm, I smiled, glancing at them up through my lashes.
“Hey,” I said again.
And slow grins appeared on Kato and Karl’s faces, revealing even, white teeth. Man, these guys were movie stars, they were that attractive.
“Hey yourself,” drawled Kato.
Okay, not exactly the Pulitzer prize-winning conversation, but you know how sometimes the world narrows so that everything else is gone? That’s what happened here. It was like a dream sequence, everything going out of focus except for me and the two men, other sounds muffled, my periphery vision dimming. All I saw were Kato and Karl, and I had to have them.
“Meet me out back?” I murmured softly.
The men exchanged an amused look, almost like they were having a telepathic conversation. Finally, one spoke.
“Sure,” he said, “out back in five.”
And it was as if the world suddenly snapped back to normal. I was standing there, in a crowded bar, having just propositioned two strangers. Gorgeous men sure, but guys whom I’d just met, itinerant sailors here on shore leave. Not exactly the makings of a fairy tale romance.
But Kato and Karl were already striding away, without a look over their shoulders, disappearing into the crowd. Suddenly the music seemed really loud. I shook my head as if to clear it, my thoughts muddled. It was as if a different me had taken over my body momentarily, making me act out of character. But Maggie’s voice knocked me back to earth.
“What the hell?” she demanded, hands on her hips, eyes accusing.
I could see why she was angry. She’d been the one leading the charge, she’d been the first to see the guys, and I was supposed to be her second, a wing woman. An unspoken agreement was that Maggie got first dibs and I’d get whatever was leftover. Instead, I’d snuck in and made off with not one, but both men.
I thought about feigning innocence, about making up some lie about how she hadn’t tried hard enough, but our long friendship prevented me. Instead, I was straight up, acknowledging what I’d done.
“Mags, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” I said apologetically, telling the truth. “I’m not sure what came over me, maybe it’s my time of month?”
“Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “Seriously, what the hell?” she spat again, eyes darkening. Maggie is a pretty girl but red infused her face now, making it splotchy and mottled. “What the hell Tina? You know clam jamming is against girl code.”
I sighed. I’ve always hated this “girl code” stuff and its ill-defined, somewhat imaginary rules. I mean, sure, there were the basics like “don’t date a friend’s ex,” but every other rule seemed to be made-up on the fly. Still, it seemed easier to apologize than work out the intricacies of girl code.
“Mags, I’m so sorry,” I said again, apologizing profusely. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“What were you thinking?” she practically screeched, spittle flying. “I saw those guys first!”
“I know,” I said miserably, “I know, I know, it’s just that …”
“Just what?” my friend spat. “Seriously, just what?”
I hung my head with shame.
“Just nothing,” I said softly. “I have no excuse.”
And Maggie snorted at that.
“That’s right, you have no excuse, I’m so pissed at you, I can’t believe you’ve done this on our last night together. What happened to hos before bros?”
And I could feel the giggles welling up despite everything. Hos before bros? Clam jamming? The phrases were just too funny, too ridiculous, but I made myself keep a straight face and apologize once more.
“Maggie, I’m so sorry,” I said sincerely. “I have no excuse, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Make sure you do,” said my friend before turning her back and flouncing off, heels clacking loudly. And I let out another sigh. Mags was always involved in some mini-vendetta or other, I guess this time it was me on her shit list. Oh well.
In the meantime, there were the two men … and only two minutes before our rendezvous.
CHAPTER TWO
Karl
She was absolutely gorgeous. A little young, sure, but still off the charts beautiful, with a mass of curly brown hair, soft hazel eyes, and a sweet, curvy figure. Oh yeah, that bod. My bro and I were into it, one hundred percent.
So we stood behind the Old Dog, smoking cigarettes, waiting for the girl. This tobacco shit will kill you, but hey, we were on shore leave, might as well live it up a little. Fifteen days straight on deck will make a man crazy, especially since in this particular profession it’s all guys, all day, aboard a packed ship.
But we were on the last day of our three-day leave, and what do you know, a beautiful girl had come up to us at the grimiest, most divey bar in town. The Old Dog wasn’t exactly known for its attractive ladies, more the opposite. It was known for its old-style hookers, the working girls middle-aged, experienced, with make-up spackled on and boobs down to their knees. Some guys like that stuff, saying that “it feels real,” and that’s fine. We have nothing against prostitutes, whether seventeen or seventy, it was just a surprise to meet someone like Tina at the Dog.
Because we’d seen her the minute she walked into the bar, like a breath of fresh air blowing into the stale, seedy place. Round and curvy, she’d stood out like a beacon, almost radiating light. And even in the skank outfit, the brunette projected class – the kind that money can’t buy, the kind that you’re born with.
And whaddya know, but we were scheduled for a rendezvous with the hottest woman this side of the Mediterranean in about thirty seconds.
“Think she’ll show?” asked my twin, stamping out his cig. “She’s a little young.”
“She’ll show,” I growled, doing the same. “She better.”
Because my boner was already at full mast, aching, heavy and stiff in my jeans just thinking of the brunette, the anticipation hanging heavy in the night air.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, letting out a shaft of light. We were in a deserted alley in back of the bar, the music from inside muffled, the night dark around us. There were a couple newspapers blowing around, some dumpsters stationed in the corner, but we were essentially alone except for a couple necking about twenty feet away. Judging from the loud smacking noises and occasional grunts, they wouldn’t notice if World War Three happened mere feet away.
So when Tina slipped outside, we said nothing, just motioned her towards us, further back.
She walked over tentatively, swaying a little in her heels.
“Hi,” she said a little breathlessly, looking at us in the dim light. “Hi again.”
And we didn’t answer becaus
e the girl was good enough to eat. Oh yeah, a sassy pout, wide hips, big boobs, and a juicy ass, just the way we like it.
“Hey yourself,” I said nonchalantly, but there was nothing about my gaze that was nonchalant. Instead, we were devouring her like fucking lions hunting our prey, scorching her with the heat of our eyes.
And Tina could feel it. The girl gave a little shiver, like an invisible finger had just trailed up her spine, and as if in a trance, she slipped her shoulders out of her leather jacket, revealing the garment underneath. God, I can hardly describe it. It was like a vest of some sort, but with no sleeves, black leather and hella tight, emphasizing that tiny waist, boobs pushed up so that they were creamy scoops of vanilla ice cream waiting to be devoured.
And we were just about to pounce, to bury our faces in that cream, when the girl did something unexpected. Without breaking eye contact, she began unlacing the front of the vest.
Slowly.
One by one.
She pulled the strings out of their holes until the bustier fell away, leaving her topless in the dark alley. And my cock went one hundred percent ballistic in that instant, punching out like a fucking mast, ready to do some serious damage. Fuck! The minx was a Venus de Milo come to life as she shook her orbs at us, giggling, each one swaying gently in the night, the hefty weight pendulous and creamy.
Kato and I lost control at that instant, eating her up like a feast for starving men. My twin’s mouth crashed onto hers, his hands all over her right tit while I massaged her left, pulling and twisting the nip, my other fist reaching up under her skirt.
And the girl mewled between us, breathy little gasps escaping as we stroked her all over.
“Oh oh oh!” she breathed, lifting a knee for better access. “Oh!”
And I grinned wickedly. Our little minx was getting a two-on-one, and we were gonna make it so good, so hot, that she’d remember us long after our ship pulled out of port.
I ran my hand all the way up her thigh, letting my fingers graze her pussy. Like a good harlot, she hadn’t worn underwear and my fingers stroked that pinkness, her lips already hot and wet, dripping with arousal.
Falling for My Dad's Best Friend Page 14
