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Working 2 Hard_An MFM Menage Romance

Page 10

by Sierra Sparks


  “What if I just keep the emergencies from happening?” she asked.

  “Stacey, there will always be some emergency at some point—”

  “I don’t see why, if you’re running the hotel right,” she said arrogantly.

  “You don’t know how to run a hotel. You’re learning about it right now and I’m telling you, that’s not how things go. Ever. There are always emergencies!” I said, getting frustrated.

  “Did you just call me stupid?”

  “No, I said you’re still learning,” I repeated. “Look, I got to get out of the kitchen. It’s busy in here and I don’t want to disrupt things.”

  “Are you saying I’m disrupting things?”

  “No!” I whirled, getting truly angry now.

  “Whoa, relax. I’m just kidding with you. It’s my way, ha-ha! Gotcha!”

  “Ha-ha, very funny,” I said unenthusiastically.

  “You really gotta loosen up, Trigg,” Stacey tried to counsel me, putting on her best after-school-special voice. “Stress is a killer!”

  “Right, well, I’ll take that under advisement,” I pretended to acknowledge. “In the meantime, let’s go down to the pool area. The hot tubs also need checking.”

  “Ooo! Should I get changed?” she said excitedly, rubbing her palms together.

  “No, we’re inspecting the hot tubs, not getting in.”

  “Yeah, but we could. To test them,” she offered suggestively grossing me out.

  “Do you really want to test a filthy hot tub?” I asked, turning away in disgust.

  “No, I guess— Wait. How filthy?”

  “We’ll soon see. In the past, I have inspected ones with floating condoms, among other things…” I let my sentence trail off.

  “Ew!” she gagged.

  Stacey seemed to be easily grossed out. Maybe that was the direction I had to take to get her focused on the job, rather than on me.

  We walked down to the pool area. In a separate covered area, sat our hot tubs, heaters humming and churning up bubbles. We had added enough dividers for some level of privacy, but hopefully not so much privacy that people would have sex in them. Of course, that didn’t stop guests from doing it, though, despite the signs about video cameras.

  After examining most of the hot tubs, we discovered that they were pretty clean. Then in the fourth tub, I spotted a band-aid.

  “There you go,” I said. “That doesn’t belong there.”

  “So, do I call maintenance or…”

  “No!” I said incredulous. “You’re not going to bother a maintenance guy for that. Just pull it out yourself.”

  “Oh, my God!” she said, disgusted. “That could have AIDS on it!”

  “You can’t get AIDS that way,” I insisted. “Just get a pool skimmer if you’re squeamish, otherwise use your hand.”

  “Ew! God, no!” she said. “I’ll use a skimmer.”

  After about four or five attempts, she caught it with the skimmer. She tried to bang it off the skimmer and into a trashcan. I finally got impatient and pulled it off with my fingers.

  “Oh, my God! I think I’m going to be sick!”

  “It’s fine,” I told her. “I’m going to wash my hands. No big deal.”

  “Oh, God! No! No-no-no-no-no,” she whined. “Not happening. I have to go throw up, now.”

  Stacey rushed to the ladies room, but I suspected she didn’t vomit. She probably just wanted to get away from me for a while. Thank God. Maybe this would finally get her focused. Shit, the end of these six weeks with her won’t come fast enough. God forbid if her father wants her to work here. Don’t know how we’re going to dodge that bullet.

  I saw her step out and turned to walk to the poolside proper. The pool was carefully inspected and monitored, so we didn’t have to look at it. But the changing rooms were another story.

  “You see these changing rooms?” I said. “Guests don’t really understand that they’re just for the pool and not part of their room. Often, they leave personal items and articles of clothing. That’s why we have such a large lost and found.”

  “Ooo! Do we get to keep stuff we like from the lost and found?” bubbled Stacey excitedly.

  “No, we figure out which guest left it behind,” I lectured her.

  “But what if they leave the hotel, then you keep it, right?”

  “No, actually, if we determine the owner, we mail it to them.”

  “Well, that sounds lame,” she said, bored. “Then there’s almost nothing to keep!”

  “The point is not to get things from the customers, the point is to have a great rep for hospitality.”

  “Yeah, but what a little bonus for yourself?” she asked haughtily. “For doing a good job.”

  “Stealing items that were left behind is not doing a good job.” I was really getting sick of having to explain decency. “Please stop it. We need to check the changing rooms for cleanliness.”

  Rather than wait for proper instruction, Stacey opened the nearest changing room stall without so much as a knock. A man was inside changing and topless. Stacey screamed and closed the door. The man made a startled noise.

  “Sorry, sir! Wrong stall! Won’t happen again.”

  I pulled Stacey aside, hopefully out of earshot of anyone.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” I snapped. “You have to knock before you open any stall.”

  “My bad,” said Stacey. “He was kind of cute though. Not as cute as you.”

  “Wildly inappropriate,” I added, staring straight down at the floor to avoid her repugnant intentions.. “You’re here to learn, Stacey. Why don’t you knock and check the other stalls?”

  “What am I looking for?” she asked.

  “Trash. Again, used condoms, band aids, sometimes drug paraphernalia—”

  “This job is gross,” she announced. “I’m not touching any of that stuff without gloves at least. Why can’t I just call the maid in here to do it?”

  “Because the housekeepers are cleaning rooms,” I explained. “And each room takes a while, as you no doubt noticed. If you call a them to run all the way down here just to clean this area, you’re wasting everyone’s valuable time. They’re only scheduled to clean these stalls once or twice. You sometimes have to check them. That’s all there is to it. This is the job.”

  She grunted in dissatisfaction and opened the next stall. It still had a towel in it and someone’s flip-flops.

  “Thank God! At this point I was expecting a dildo or that someone took a shit!” laughed Stacey way too loudly.

  “That you take to the laundry, assuming the towel is one of ours,” I instructed. “Well, is it one of ours?”

  “It has our letters, it has to be,” replied Stacey, watching me.

  “Okay, that was a test,” I said.

  “Did I pass?” she asked, quickly stepping into my personal space.

  I took a step back and found myself inside the changing room with the towel and flip flops. Stacey followed me right in, cornering me.

  “Trigg, you don’t have to pretend,” said Stacy drawing closer. “You can be open with me and I’ll be wide open with you.” She flipped her neck to the side like she was actually charming me.

  “Stacey, you’re getting the wrong idea…”

  “Why don’t you like me? Don’t you like theeeese,” she asked, wagging her shoulders to jiggle her breasts at me. “And downstairs is completely free of carpet, if you know what I mean.” She cut her hips to the side and lifted her upper lip in a unappealing display of lust.

  “Look Stacey…”

  “And what about Davis? I like him too. You both can share me, if you want,” she said huskily, trying to be seductive.

  “Stacey, you’re an intern. I mean, you’re a little older than your average intern, but you can’t imagine how bad this would look to HR,” I told her air above her head.

  “My dad owns this place,” she said. “I’m not going to get in trouble. I never get in trouble. I’m just talking a litt
le fun. C’mon, get your fun stick out and do me right here. I’m already wet.”

  “This is over,” I said pushing past her and keeping my eyes down. “No more, Stacey, seriously. Not another word. I can’t imagine what your father would say if he heard about this.”

  I marched straight back to the office. Hallie and Davis were there, working steadily. Our ruse had worked for now.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Davis, glancing up before going back to his monitor, typing. “You okay? You look stressed.”

  “Stacey made a move on me during the shadowing,” I whispered with horror. “She offered herself to me and you. She is definitely a problem.”

  “She’ll be the end of everything,” Hallie said sadly.

  “What?” asked Davis. “You mean our jobs? Our relationship?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” said Hallie. “Please, don’t press me.”

  “It could help to talk about it,” I suggested. If it had to do with Hallie, I wanted to know everything. “But you’re right, maybe this isn’t the appropriate setting. But if you want to…”

  Hallie wouldn’t say. It looked like she had real trauma with this girl. Perhaps later, I would get the details. Maybe she needed to relax first. After I made her cum a few times. I wondered if my thoughts were crude, but couldn’t deny that people do relax after a good orgasm. And I knew for myself that Hallie was full of them.

  Chapter 11

  Hallie

  I wasn’t sure what to do. Stacey’s presence was really bringing me down. When I suggested that I just go home and not think about it for a while, Davis and Trigg wouldn’t hear of it.

  “You can’t just wallow at home,” said Davis, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “That would be bad for you. It would be bad for anyone.”

  “Yeah, you shouldn’t be alone now,” added Trigg. “I mean, c’mon, we just got together. Things are pretty great. Why not focus on the good things in life? Stacey will be gone soon, I promise.”

  I didn’t see how that was a realistic assessment at all. Stacey was persistent and spoiled, so when she wanted something, she didn’t stop until she got it. I could totally see her taking Trigg and Davis away from me. And the thought of that made me sick to my stomach. What would my job be then? Just an obstacle.

  But at the same time, I felt Trigg and Davis were genuine with their feelings for me. Sure, maybe Stacey had the money and even looks, but deep down she was a jerk. I don’t want to say “bad person,” that wouldn’t be accurate. I felt like she was just lashing out all the time. She was damaged and insecure in her own way and was definitely used to taking it out on other people.

  We decided to go back to Davis’s place, mostly at his insistence. He wanted to cook for us. I soon saw why.

  Despite his busy, around-the-clock schedule, the man kept amazing produce. I loved how Davis seemed to dig life’s little details. His tomatoes were the reddest I’d ever since and he grew fresh herbs under the kitchen’s huge bay windows.

  The three of us cooking together and making a meal really relaxed me. There’s something about it, all the activity and timing and needing to be in sync with one another—it was really intimate and fun. As the pasta was boiling and the sauce was bubbling with rich fragrant aromas, Trigg slowly approached me about Stacey.

  He leaned against the counter as I stirred pasta. “So, look— I know you don’t want to talk about what’s between you and Stacey,” he said. “But we’re here for you. We want to be the people you rely on. You can talk to us.” He reached out and tucked back a some of my hair that had sprung loose from the messy bun hairdo I always assumed after work.

  “Well, I guess…” I began in a light, storyteller’s voice, looking down in the pasta pot. Then I found my strength and looked up into his clear eyes. “It’s just hard to talk about.”

  “You knew her in high school?” he asked, cocking his head to the side inquisitively. “Tell us about your high school days. What were you like?”

  “Back then, I was heavy. I was really awkward. Bullies used to pick on me. Especially Stacey,” I explained with a dry throat. “I tried everything to make friends with her and the other bullies—and I did make some of them my friends—but not Stacey. She refused.”

  “That’s rough.” Davis had stopped his basil-chopping and stood at my other side with a hand on my shoulder. “I know a lot of schools now have pretty severe anti-bullying programs.”

  “This was before all that. I mean, the school was aware and it wasn’t like teachers didn’t care, but— It went on. I imagine it still goes on behind the scenes somehow. Kids are like that.”

  “What did she do specifically?” asked Trigg with thoughtful eyes.

  “A lot of it was mental and not physical,” I explained, gesturing to them both with my wooden pasta spoon . “One time, she somehow got my locker combination and coated the inside of my locker with Limburger cheese. It smelled disgusting and it made all my books reek for most of the year.”

  “That sounds like a really mean prank,” said Davis.

  “That was just one time,” I told them. “It was constant harassment. Sometimes, I’d get a few days off because she was busy or picking on some other kid, but I never knew when she would pop up and turn on me. The worst was at lunch. Just the verbal stuff. Calling me a fat pig, Hallie the Cow. And so on.”

  “I’m sorry that happened,” said Trigg. “But it didn’t stop you from growing into the strong, amazing woman we have here before us. That’s long over now. Stacey doesn’t even recognize you.”

  “Yeah, but it’s because of her that I missed out on all the experiences in high school. I couldn’t get a date, I didn’t have sex until I was in college— Forget about prom,” I said. “Listen, I understand what you guys are trying to do, but let’s eat, okay? The details suck and I’d rather put the past behind me where it belongs.”

  We sat down and ate. The air was a little grim, so I tried to address the elephant in the room.

  “Hey, c’mon, you guys are great and you make me really happy,” I said. “I’m going to talk more, you just need to give me more time, okay?”

  “Alright,” said Davis, who winked.

  “You got it,” smiled Trigg.

  “This is really good by the way,” I said trying to change the subject. “I’m not much of a cook, myself. How’d you guys get so good?”

  “Coming up in the hotel business, you sometimes have to help out in the kitchen,” explained Davis. “Our chef is one of the best.”

  “She’s a little bit of a diva, isn’t she?” I noted.

  “Oh, no,” said Trigg sarcastically. “She’s only like the Barbara Streisand of cooks.”

  Finally, the chill was gone. Our mood had lightened and we were able to have a nice meal.

  “I don’t mean to tempt fate, but is there any wine?” I asked.

  “You sure?” Davis grinned.

  “Yes, it’s fine,” I assured him by patting his knee. “I just need to relax a little.”

  Davis found a nice merlot and poured a little for everyone. It was dry, which I like and I found it instantly relaxing. For dessert, Trigg had picked up some cannoli on the way back from the hotel. Perfect. A little sweet was all I needed.

  Before the guys could start questioning me again, I figured I’d turn up the heat a little. I didn’t want to talk about Stacey anymore and rubbing myself all over their smooth, hard bodies sounded about right to me.

  We sat on Davis’s couch sipping the rest of the wine. I started touching the guys and teasing them through their clothes. Then I stood up and did a hot little dance with my scarf, twisting and twirling. I started to unbutton my blouse. My plan was to get completely naked, but hide my nipples and vagina with the scarf.

  Unfortunately, the doorbell rang and instantly the three of us froze. We knew that meant trouble.

  “Who is that?” I asked quietly.

  “I’m not expecting anyone,” said Davis, curiously.

  “Oh, my God
. It’s Stacey!” I whispered. “She must’ve followed us here!”

  “Relax, relax,” said Trigg. “That would be beyond weird. Let’s just go in the back while Davis sees who it is.”

  Trigg and I went inside Davis’ spare bedroom and closed the door most of the way. We leaned by the door, listening. We picked up the sound of Davis opening the door. It was followed by the noise of Stacey’s voice booming through the house.

  “Oh, uh, hi Stacey,” answered Davis. “To what do I owe this visit?”

  “I was just in the neighborhood and I thought I’d stop by!” Her tone was overly gushy and desperate. “You alone?”

  “Not exactly. Um, can this wait until tomorrow?”

  “Well, I thought maybe you and I could get to know each other better,” she offered. “You got anything to drink? Although I’m pretty loose already, if you get my drift.”

  “Look, I can’t get involved with an intern,” said Davis. “Especially one that’s the daughter of my boss.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll tell him we already messed around,” she threatened, pouting.

  “Why would you do that?” said Davis tonelessly.

  “Why not? So, it’s like this. You can fuck me now or just get credit for it when you didn’t. It’s your choice.”

  “You’re some kind of psycho,” sneered Davis.

  I was freaking out. This was the Stacey I knew. She didn’t care who she hurt. She wanted whatever she wanted and if you didn’t give it to her, there was almost nothing she wouldn’t do.

  “I have to get out of here!” I whispered to Trigg. “I’ll go out the back door!”

  “No! Don’t be silly,” insisted Trigg. “I’ll take care of this. Stay here.” He slipped through the opening into the hallway where I couldn’t see. But I could still hear Davis.

  “Why punish me?” Davis voice was agitated. “What did I do to you?”

  “Nothing. And that’s the point. Now are we gonna fuck or what?”

  “How about you fuck off?” That was Trigg, arriving on the scene.

 

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