Authors: Stephanie Williams
“What’s going on in here?” Sandra entered the room.
“Your mutt here slobbered all over my face.” Sean picked up the fur ball and set her on the floor. “Uh, you didn’t hear anything I said to her—did you?”
Sandra put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. That meant trouble. “You didn’t say anything derogatory to her, did you? She wants to be your friend. And Killer is not a mutt. She has papers.”
“Whatever.” Sean leapt from the bed. “Why are you up so early? I thought you wanted to sleep in.”
“That would be rude. I do have company.”
“Don’t worry about us. Go back to bed. Patrick and I have everything under control.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He threw his pillow at her. She left the room, Killer trotting happily behind her.
Sean walked down the hall to Patrick’s room. They needed to talk, but he heard the shower going in the bathroom. Okay, the talk could wait. He’d take his own shower first.
Patrick was already in the kitchen when he came downstairs twenty minutes later. “I’m hunting for something healthy to fix for breakfast, and oddly enough, our nutritionist has nothing of that sort.”
“A closet junk-food junkie. I knew it.” Sean peered into the fridge. “It’s the weekend; let’s fix her something good, hearty—and fattening.” He retrieved a pound of bacon.
“Okay, but don’t say anything when she’s hooked.” Patrick retrieved a skillet from the cabinet.
“We want to keep her healthy looking.” Sean winked, making big-breast hands.
“Speaking of which, have you come up with anything? Last night was bad for me. I dreamt about her most of the night.”
No stroll in the park for him either. They both had been thinking and dreaming about Sandra since day one. When the two of them decided to work at Boot Camp together eight years ago, they had no idea how popular the gym would become. But still, something was missing. Sean suggested a nutritionist. The boss agreed and told them to find one. Many came through the door, but Sandra Peterson stood out. Not only in appearance, but the whole package, and that’s what snagged everyone’s attention.
It was hard to find a woman with beauty, intelligence, humility and a giving spirit all in one package. Sandra was a rare breed. Patrick fell hard. But he didn’t say anything—at first.
As the weeks and months wore on, Sean picked up on the vibes and confronted him. Wasn’t it a surprise when he told him that he had the same feelings for her? They discussed in great lengths their feelings for Sandra. It wasn’t hard to realize they had both fallen for her and they both wanted to please her, in any way, shape or form.
Of course, that brought up new problems. She was their co-worker. Later, she became a friend—a real close friend. Now the issue wasn’t just about dating their co-worker and friend. They could handle sharing her, but if Sandra wanted only one of them, the other would have to step aside. Why did life have to be so complex?
“You think you have a monopoly on restless nights?” Sean huffed.
“Of course not. But I want to make sure she doesn’t go off and start dating someone else. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, I do unfortunately. We’ll brainstorm this weekend and feel her out. I don’t see why a ménage would be difficult anyway. We’re like the Three Musketeers.”
“Uh…this isn’t like making plans to go camping.” Patrick lifted the crisp bacon onto a plate.
“Don’t worry, my friend.”
“Love your optimism.” Patrick laid more slices of bacon in the skillet. “Her clients would die if they saw this.” He chuckled.
***
When Sandra arrived downstairs, the boys were already gone. She followed the scent of fresh coffee and bacon to the kitchen and saw the coffee maker on. A delectable breakfast waited in her warmer. Yummy!
Splurge day!
Sliding her hand into a rose-colored oven mitt, she carried the plate to the table and sat down to eat.
Arf! Arf!
“Hey Killer,” she said. “Here’s a piece of sausage for you.” The walking powder puff accepted the meat and trotted off to her bed in the corner.
Sandra was digging into her food, when her cell phone rang. “Hello.”
“Hey, girl, whassup!”
“Hey, Rhonda. Nothing much, except eating breakfast.” She took another bite of her omelet, closing her eyes in food bliss. She must have verbally conveyed her appreciation, too, because her friend began to giggle.
“Oops!” Sandra grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth. “Sorry about that.”
“Must be good eatin’.” Rhonda laughed.
“Yeah, the boys made me a Spanish omelet, hash browns, bacon, and sausage.”
“Yum! Say hello to them for me.”
“I will. They’ve left already.”
“They spent the night, as usual?”
Sandra mentally groaned. Rhonda fancied herself a member of the, Why-don’t-you-try-it-you-might-like-it, Club. “Yes, Patrick and Sean slept in the guest rooms.”
“Okay, okay, I wasn’t implying—”
“Oh, please, if your voice dipped one more octave…” Sandra replied.
“All right. I won’t say any more. So what are you doing today? Do you have to go in?”
“Not this Saturday, thank goodness. The week kept me very busy.”
“Not surprising. Summer’s approaching fast. People are trying to eliminate the muffin tops and cellulite after storing fat all winter.”
“Yeah, but it’s February. This is the time New Year’s resolutions wear off.” They both laughed, because they knew how true it was. “But hey, it keeps me employed, so I can’t complain.” Sandra shoved some hash browns in her mouth and chewed for a moment. “Let’s see if Bloomies is having a sale.”
“Girl, please. The only way Bloomies will have a good sale is if they’re going out of business. But let’s head there anyway. I need some more foundation, and they’re the only ones that carry the brand I want.”
“Okay, let me finish eating, then jump in the show–” Her call waiting beeped. “Hey, it’s Sean. Let me call you back when I leave.”
“Kiss them for me.” Rhonda giggled.
“Whatever.” Sandra switched to the other line. “Hey, Sean. Thank you for breakfast, and thank Patrick, too.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Whatcha doing today? We didn’t really plan anything after the movie last night.”
“I’m sorry. I made plans.”
“That’s fine. We have things to take care of before Monday anyway. So what are you going to do on your rare Saturday off?”
“Hang with Rhonda. By the way, she blows kisses you guys’ way.”
“Blowing them back. You want to do something tonight?”
“Like what?”
“We’ll figure something out when you get home. We know how you are at the stores.”
“Okay, smarty. Talk to you later.”
Sandra folded her cell and finished eating.
She was emptying the dishwasher when kinky thoughts of the dynamic duo popped up yet again. Wasn’t it bad enough that she masturbated to an article, thinking of both of them last night?
Once showered and dressed, she poured some Dog Chow for Killer and checked herself in the mirror before stepping out. Maybe paying ridiculously high prices for stuff worth a tenth of the cost would distract her.
As she drove, Sandra thought about the boys—again. Damn it, why did they have to be so fine? Better question: why did they have to be her best friends? They had a platonic relationship. Everyone else misinterpreted it. Not her. She came to a red light and groaned. “You protest too much.”
At Rhonda’s house, she blew the horn and waited. Her friend came out, head stuck in a magazine. “Hey, lady!” She reached for the door handle. Not once did she lift her head and actually acknowledge her. She opened the door and slid in.
“Girl, what has caught your attention?” Sandra pulled away from the curb.
“This article in the latest
Just for Women
. Did you read it?”
Her stomach tightened. She knew what the latest magazine held, but thinking about it would only frustrate her more. Bad enough she’d masturbated to articles.
She tried to keep her eyes on the road, occasionally glancing at her friend, yet trying not to show any interest. But she
did
have interest in it. And she would have loved to share some girl-talk about it. But if she showed an inkling of curiosity, Rhonda would grill her like a cheese sandwich.
“It says here that eighty percent of single women and forty-five percent of married fantasize about a ménage à trois,” Rhonda said, her face still buried in the magazine.
Sandra nearly swerved off the road.
Oh God
. “Really?”
“Yep, and get this.” Rhonda poked her side. “It says at least thirty percent of women have tried it once. They even have actual accounts.”
“They are bored with their sex lives, I bet.” Sandra pooh-poohed.
“Please! They’re adventurous.”
“Well, you’re the thrill seeker in this duo. Why don’t you give it a try?” Sandra turned to her as they came to a red light.
“I don’t have all the players for the team.” Rhonda smirked.
“What do you mean? You’re not talking about Sean and Patrick? They’re my friends and co-workers. That would never do.”
Damn! She needed to stop thinking of them in bed with her. The thought of them both naked soaked her panties.
What would it really be like with two men? What would it
really
be like with Sean and Patrick? Reading about it wasn’t good enough anymore. She obsessed about it now.
Pulling into the parking lot of Bloomies, Sandra’s attention was snagged by a statement of Rhonda’s. “Huh?”
“I asked, if you ever wondered what it would be like with one of them giving you oral sex while the other was sucking your….”
Groan
.
***
Sandra couldn’t have been more wrong about being distracted, despite the great sale at Bloomies. For some reason, everything she considered reminded her of the guys. How did a pair of sunglasses remind her of Patrick? Oh, yeah. She’d bought him a pair by Versace for his birthday last year. He’d looked so cool in them.
Looked
being the operative word. He’d lost them three weeks later. Not unusual. Patrick could be a bit forgetful. He probably left them at a restaurant. Lucky patron or waiter.
“So what are the studs doing today?” Rhonda asked.
“Huh? Oh, getting ready for Monday.”
“All work and no play. Speaking of play….”
“Don’t even go there,” Sandra checked the price on a pair of jeans.
“Okay, okay. All I’m saying is that you have a perfect opportunity here. Show them the article and discuss it with them. Make a joke out of it, if you’re afraid they might think you’re serious.”
“Are you nuts? We’re talking straight, testosterone filled men. That’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”
“Okay, okay. Only a suggestion. But one can dream.” Rhonda flashed her a big, cheesy grin.
***
Sean and Patrick went to Boot Camp, despite their plans to the contrary. Two clients needed emergency workouts, making their Saturday shot for the moment.
Patrick had his client dripping with sweat on the chin press bar when he noticed his buddy wasn’t really into it today. Sean barked orders to a man doing push-ups. But instead of being in his face like a real drill sergeant, he leaned against one of the weight machines, arms folded over his chest, counting out the reps.
Something distracted him.
Patrick told his charge to take ten. The man greeted the reprieve with a grunt of gratitude.
“What’s on your mind there, buddy?” Patrick approached his friend.
Sean stopped counting and glanced over at him. “What do you mean?”
“Man, you’re a million miles away.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Sean told the man, now in a pool of sweat on the mat. “Do a five-minute cool down on the tread.”
Once the client staggered off, Sean motioned for Patrick to follow him into his office and shut the door. He pointed to the seat in front of his desk.
“Oh, this must be serious.” Patrick leaned back in the chair.
“It is. I think I figured out a way to get this ménage thing off the ground, without scaring the bejesus out of Sandra.” Sean plopped into his seat behind the desk.
Patrick tossed Sean’s massive rubber band ball in the air. “Really? I take it you have a plan.”
“I heard from my Uncle Travis this morning.”
“Really? Don’t tell me, a new deal on a car…that belongs to the mob again.”
Sean laughed. His Uncle Travis could be a bit shady, and they always managed to get caught up in his drama. “No mob cars this time. He’s doing well. In fact, he’s retiring. That’s why he called.”
“Retiring? Is that code for the Witness Protection Program?”
They both chuckled.
“No, nothing like that. He has a cabin in the Rockies. He wants me to go up there and check it out. He mentioned if I liked it, he’d give me the grant deed. He plans on retiring to the Poconos.”
“He is a thrill seeker, that Travis.” Patrick laughed. “But what does this have to do with Sandra?”
“I figure all three of us can go up there and get better acquainted.” Sean flashed a devilish smile.
“Ahhh.”
“We acquired two new trainers, and they’re good enough. I don’t see why we can’t take a few weeks off. We have at least a month coming to us anyway. Instead of jetting off somewhere like we usually do, we could use the time to check out the place…together.”
“I’m picking up what you’re putting down, my friend.” Patrick stood up and went to the door. “Now, how are you going to convince Miss Workaholic?”
“That won’t be a problem,” Sean said. “The local mall just opened a new Roberto Cavalli store.”
“Cavalli. I’ll go pack.”
Hours later, Sandra arrived back at her house, with Rhonda in tow. They’d shopped until they dropped, had dinner, found their second wind, and done more shopping. All this, without any mention of the guys.
“Let’s see the goods,” Sandra said, retrieving her loot from the trunk. She hadn’t meant to spend so much. But contrary to Rhonda’s observation, Bloomies did have a great sale, and not due to going out of business.