Baumgartner Shorts (erotic erotica menage threesome) (The Baumgartners) (11 page)

Daphne chewed thoughtfully, finally saying,
“Mr. Right.”

“I’m afraid h
e doesn’t exist.” Carrie blew a bubble and snapped her gum.

“He does too—you found him, didn’t you?”

“Well…” Carrie felt that stab of guilt again. Daphne was always telling her how lucky she was to have Doc. And she knew she was.

“I blame you.”
Daphne poked her lightly in the ribs. “You proved that it’s possible.”

“So what are you doing for Christmas?”
Carrie asked, trying to change the subject.

“You mean, speaking of Christmas miracles?”

She laughed. “Ho ho.”

“I’ll be worki
ng at Blockbuster, what else?” The redhead tossed her gum wrapper toward the trash can full of lint and missed. “Me and the Jewish kid are splitting the Christmas shifts.”

Carrie felt guilty about that, too. Daphne was working her way through school, and although Carrie had her undergraduate degree and had gone to college in Boston on scholarship and grants—where she’d met Doc in the first place—
she hadn’t really done anything with her degree since.

Doc said he liked having her home, and
while things got a little tight sometimes, with Doc’s residency paying just enough for them to live on each month, they really wanted to have a baby, and she didn’t want to be tied down to a job when that happened. They’d had one bright moment of hope last year, but she’d miscarried that baby and hadn’t gotten pregnant again since.

But every time Daphne mentioned her job at Blockbuster and her diet of Ramen noodles and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Carrie felt a twinge of guilt
about not going to school or having a job.

“What are you guys doing?”
Daphne interrupted her friend’s thoughts.

“I don’t know.”
She sighed. “Doc’s parents are talking about going to Key West. They have a timeshare on a private beach. But I’d miss the snow at Christmas time…”

Daphne scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You have the chance to spend Christmas on a private beach in Florida and you’re complaining?”

Ouch. There was that twinge of guilt again. “I’m not complaining, exactly…”

“Well I’d jum
p at the chance, if I were you.” Her friend got up to retrieve the gum wrapper and slam-dunked it into the basket.

“So you’re all by yourself then?”
Carrie could have kicked herself for the way she’d worded that.

“I’m always all by myself.” Daphne shrugged
, taking her seat again. “Unless I’m with you.”

“
I think you should date more,” she told her emphatically, reaching around and pulling the book out of her friend’s pocket. “Spend time with some real guys instead of paper ones.”

Daphne grabbed for the book, but Carrie held it out of her reach.
“It’s kind of hard to have a social life when you’re pursuing a degree in astrophysics.”

“Yeah, guys are kind of intimidated by that, huh?”

“To say the least.”
Daphne leaned across her friend, the fullness of her breasts pressed against Carrie’s arm. Doc’s mention of her friend this morning had Carrie looking and thinking about her friend in a whole new way. “Gimme my book!”

“Well you could always play dumb.”
Carrie stretched, holding it out further. “What’s in this book that’s so interesting anyway?
Love’s Unbound Wrath.
What kind of title is that? Do they actually fuck? Or is it all purple prose? Like
‘He slid his manhood into her quivering sheath…’
”

Carrie flipped the book open, scanning the pages, and laughed at her discovery. “Oh my god, you didn’t! You actually underlined it!”

Daphne turned bright red, almost matching her hair. “Give it back!”

Carrie
took aim and made it—the book dropped into the lint-filled wastebasket. “Two points!”

Daphne flounced over and retrieved the book from the garbage, shaking it off and putting it back into her pocket.

“I’m sorry,” Carrie apologized as her friend took a seat beside her. Daphne relented a little, her posture relaxing as Carrie slid an arm around her waist. “What we need is to find you a
smart
guy.”

Daphne leaned her head on Carrie’s shoulder.
“No nerds.”

“Hey!” Carrie brightened at her own idea. “T
here’s a Christmas party tonight for all the residents. Doc’s making me go. Wanna come?”

“What an appealing offer.”
The redhead smiled.

“Free food, free drinks—and tons of eligible doctors.
” Carrie leaned closer, her voice dipping to nearly conspiratorial tones. “
Smart
doctors.”

“One would hope,
” Daphne said wryly.

“Come on, Daph.”
She tickled her friend’s ribs, making her giggle. “Do it for me. It would be way more fun with you.”

“Hmm.
Maybe.” Daphne looked over at the guy across the aisle. Their antics had awakened him.

“
Cute
doctors…” Carrie reminded her.

“You got the best one already.”

She grinned. “True, but not the
only
one.”

“Oh hell, why not.”
Daphne gave in, grinning back.

“
Hey, I think you’re done.” Carrie glanced at the row of machines behind them.

Daphne laughed.
“Let’s hope that’s not a euphemism for anything.”

“No,
that’s your laundry beeping, not your pacemaker.”

Daphne
laughed, pulling open the washer, reaching inside for a handful of wet clothes. “What do you think?” She held up a pair of red panties. Carrie noticed the scruffy guy across the way, his eyes averted but clearly watching them anyway. “If I wear panties like this, will I catch a cute doctor for a husband?”

“Maybe if that’s all you wear.”

“It’s a thought.” Daphne held them up against her crotch, cocking her hip to one side, making her utterly irresistible. “These and a Santa hat?”

“Cute,” Carrie agreed. “But the results would likely be
a gangbang, not marriage.”

“Or both,
” Daphne quipped, laughing at Carrie’s raised eyebrow look. “Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?”

* * * *

“Maybe I should introduce Daphne to Wilson.” Doc handed Carrie the rum and Coke she’d asked him to fetch from the bar. He slid in beside her, draping an arm casually across her shoulders.

“Oh, I don’t know, Doc.” Carrie sipped her drink, glancing toward the bathroom where her friend had disappeared a few moments before. “He’s on the rebound.”

“So?” Doc knocked back the shot he’d ordered, making a face and shuddering just slightly. “He’s a cute doctor, right? He fits the bill.”

“Wilson’s kind of… eccentric.” Carrie smiled into her glass, seeing him getting his order up at the bar. There weren’t too many residents with fat, dark ponytails and eyebrow rings. In fact, Wilson was the only one. But the University of Michigan had accepted him in spite of his alternative looks—and ideas—and that was a testament to his intelligence and skill, she knew. He was just
that
good.

Of course, he wasn’t as good as her Doc.

“I’m a cute doctor.” Doc pouted, actually sticking out his lower lip at her. “I don’t see why I can’t be on the list.”

She nudged him, her breath thick with alcohol as she whispered in his ear. “Because you’re already taken.”

“I know that.” He smiled, sliding her chair a little closer, so their hips were touching. “But that never stopped us from having fun before.”

“That was in college.” She knew what he was talking about. Of course she did. But their foray into threesomes and seeing other people had been brief and they’d been totally monogamous since they’d taken their wedding vows. Not that Doc hadn’t mentioned other people before, and they’d both fantasized, of course, and had even shared those fantasies with each other.

But they’d been happy enough without literally bringing other people into their relationship—why was he bringing this up now? She glanced at him, wondering if it was the booze. Or maybe he really was bored? That thought terrified her. She wanted to be enough for him. He was certainly more than enough for her.

And she’d never taken him up on his offer of being with another woman after they’d gotten married, even though he’d been very open about it. “Whenever you want—even without me,” he’d assured her. It was true, she’d always been attracted to women as well as men—and her affair with Maureen, her roommate and best friend in Boston, had been proof enough of that. They’d even included Doc in their little
tête-à-tête, making it a true ménage à trois. That was, until Maureen had taken Jesus Christ as her personal Lord and Savior and had married a fundamental Christian.

Maybe it had been the messy way things had ended with Maureen that had put her off from trying it again. But the truth was, she was happy with her Doc. She didn’t need anything or anyone else, she reasoned. He was her whole world.

Carrie waved at Daphne as she came out of the bathroom. The girl was dressed for a man-hunt, her red hair a river of lava over the black material of her blouse, which was completely see-through. Her black bra underneath was lacy and showed a lot of cleavage. Her red skirt was short, trimmed in black lace at the hem. And as far as Carrie could tell, she wasn’t wearing any stockings or hose. It made her wonder if her friend had worn those sexy red panties.

Doc leaned over, reminding her, “Hey, we’re still in college.”

“Graduate school doesn’t count.” Carrie pulled out a chair as Daphne approached.

Doc chuckled. “Experimenting ends with an undergraduate diploma? No one told me.”

“Stop.” Carrie poked him in the ribs, smiling as Daphne took a seat in front of the rum and Coke Doc had brought for her. “So, girlie, see anything you like?”

The redhead smiled, her gaze sweeping over Doc, their eyes meeting briefly, before shifting out onto the dance floor. The residents’ Christmas party was a big affair and included interns and other hospital staff as well. They held it at a country club every year, the same country club most of the residents would
someday probably belong to, if they stayed and practiced as doctors there.

“Lots of potential,” Daphne mused, sipping her drink. “But I’m picky.”

“You can afford to be.” Doc winked as he paid her the compliment, standing and picking up his glass. “I’m gonna get myself another shot. Anyone want anything?”

“Hey, who’s driving home?” Carrie inquired, tugging on his suit coat as he passed.

“Wilson.” Doc nodded toward the bar. “He’s the teetotaler.”

“Who’s Wilson?” Daphne asked, following his gaze.

“Come on.” Doc held out his hand. “I’ll introduce you.”

“No,
Daph, come dance with me first.” Carrie was as surprised as anyone else at the words out of her mouth, but she had Daphne’s other hand in hers and was pulling her friend toward the dance floor before Doc could verbally protest. But he did raise his eyebrows at the sight of them putting their arms around each other and grinding to the music.

“Who’s Wilson?” Daphne asked again as they moved together. Carrie felt a stirring in her groin as her friend wrapped her silky arms around her neck. The smell of her perfume was heady, and the feel of her body, all softness and curves, brought back m
emories that made her knees tremble.

“See the guy with the ponytail, talking to Doc?” Carrie’s hands went to her friend’s waist. The black material of her
blouse moved over the silken skin underneath and she found herself thinking about those red panties again. “That’s Wilson. See that blond over there? The one dancing?”

Daphne craned her neck. “The green dress?”

Carrie nodded. “That’s his ex. She’s a resident here too.”

“She looks like a ballbuster.” Daphne smirked, her hips moving to Prince’s
Little Red Corvette
as if they had a mind of their own.

“She dumped him for that guy she’s with.”

“The Ken doll?” Daphne made a face at the tall, blond Adonis that Camille was dancing with. “Why’d they break up?”

“He told her he wanted kids some day.”

“Oh.” Daphne nodded sagely. “She didn’t?”

“Oh no, she did.
” Carrie moved her mouth closer to the shell of Daphne’s ear. “She just said she didn’t want him to be their father.”

“Oh my god.”
Daphne pulled back, all wide-eyes.

“Yeah.
” Carrie glared in Camille’s direction. “Said she was looking for better genetic material.”

“What’s wrong with Wilson?”
Daphne glanced back to the bar where Doc and Wilson were talking about something, laughing together.

“Nothing. He’s brilliant. Top of his class.”

“Ahead of Doc?”

Carrie
smirked. “Tied.”