Triad: A Three Way Love Story Read online

  “Burger?” “God yes! You are a my hero again tonight.” She pulled back a barstool and sat down at the breakfast bar. I pulled two icy bottles of beer from the fridge and popped the lids, setting one down in front of her. She took a long pull off of the green bottle without even looking at the label. “Where’s Grey?” “He is unloading the bike from the back of the truck. A 1959 Triumph T120 Bonneville. A classic.”

  I flipped a cheeseburger out of the grill pan and slid it on to a brioche bun. “Ketchup?” “Ew. Do you have hot sauce?” “Be still my heart. A woman who loves hot sauce?” I pulled open the refrigerator door and pointed to a the condiment shelf, which was well stocked with a dozen spicy options, “choose your weapon, m’lady.” “Sriracha of course.” We both topped off our sandwich with copious amounts of hot sauce. She literally moaned when she took a bite and it make my cock twitch. “This is a great burger, Mick, and I’m not just saying that because I am ravenously hungry”.

  “I’m sure you say that to all the strange guys who pick you up on the side of the road”. “Only the super handsome ones that cook perfect medium rare burgers and share their boxer shorts with me”. She gave me a sweet smile with her mouth full. Handsome. Hmmm….Hitting her up for rebound sex in three...two…

  ”You keep talking like that you’re going to make him even cockier than he already is”. Son of a bitch. Grey is such a cock blocker. He washed his hands in the sink and dried them off on a paper towel before grabbing a beer for himself.

  Joss laughed for the first time. It was a goofy giggle followed by a cute little unapologetic snort. “Mick isn’t cocky, he’s convinced”. Now both of them laughed together at my expense. I shot Grey a death look when Joss wasn’t looking. He seemed to find that even more amusing and winked back at me.

  Somehow five minutes into their conversation about rusty old guns, Grey decided she was ok? This was new. Grey was not generally fond of people, in particular those of the fairer sex, and never held conversations with any woman. He fucked them regularly, he just didn’t talk to them. Women were drawn to his dark broodiness and tall, muscular build. This was certainly an interesting change of circumstances.

  Grey grabbed a plate and a bun and added a few squirts of Sriracha and topped it off with a beef patty. He popped off the top off his bottle on the edge of the counter. I noticed that he sat down on the stool next to her instead of his usual seat at the crowded dining room table. “I cleared off your spot at the table, bro.” Grey glared at me. “Too many papers on the table. I’ll eat here.”

  Our kitchen table doubled as our home office. She turned around and took a long hard look at it. “Jesus boys. Filing isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?” Joss looked shocked by the sheer volume of papers, receipts, manuals and catalogues. Filing was supposed to be my job, and I, frankly, sucked at it. “I have a system”, I interjected, indignantly. Now they both really laughed together. “I’m better at fixing bikes than organization.” Taking another big bite off of her burger and talking with her mouth full, “Is that what you guys do? Fix motorcycles?”, Joss asked. A little bit of hot sauce dribbled down her chin. Even watching her eat was sexy. I wanted to lick it off.

  “Yeah, and we customize them. We work out of of the garage. This is our office”, I gestured to the rectangular table that Grey had fashioned out of reclaimed barnwood. “It started out as a hobby, but word spread fast and we’ve got more work than we can handle.”

  “You were in the Marine Corp together?” “That’s how we met. Grey was my team leader. We served together for a long time.” Grey swallowed and took a long swallow off his beer, “Someone had to keep his ass out of trouble. He was 18 when he enlisted. He was a mouthy little son of a bitch.” I ignored him, “Anyway, he got out first and was already building the cabin when I got out about a year and a half later. I tried living with my mom and step-dad but I couldn’t handle their crazy ass lifestyle. I wasn’t in a good place then, either. Still had ghosts from the pasts rattling around in my head. I ran into Grey, and that’s when we started fixing bikes, you know, nights when there was no sleeping.”

  I was going to offer to show her my bike next, because, well, chicks love bikes, when my cell started to vibrate and play “Born To Be Wild” the Steppenwolf classic.

  I stepped away from the table to take the call when I heard my best friend say “We do some great work. We’re almost outgrowing the garage now. We repair almost anything and customize, too. We even rebuild and sell oldies. When you’re done with dinner I’ll show you the garage. I rebuilt my bike from the ground up too.” Asshole. He beat me to it. I heard her say, “I’d love to.” Dammit, I was listening to some asshole describe the weird noise he was hearing and Grey was moving in for the kill.

  Chapter 5--Grey

  When I came in from the garage I was elated see that the intriguing little stray mudpuppy we had brought home had cleaned up into a beautiful woman. The dirty matted down mop on her head was long shiny deep brunette that hung in waves down over her perky round tits. She was super short without the heels on, maybe only five foot six. With the grunge gone, I could see her smooth porcelain skin and the prettiest pair of soulful green eyes. Added points to Mick for giving her Marine Corp boxer shorts and a Harley t-shirt. It was one of mine from Daytona Beach a few years ago and it looked sexy as hell knotted up to show just a sliver of her soft, white belly.

  The two of them looked pretty comfortable together, eating, drinking brew and laughing like old friends. For some reason I wanted to the be the one laughing with her and talking with her. I couldn’t remember the last time I did either one with a woman. Mick was totally getting ready to proposition her, and ladies rarely, if ever, say no to him. He attributes his abilities to his “Elvis Presley” smile and big brown eyes. When opportunity knocks I plan on answering.

  Saved by Steppenwolf! Mick grabbed the call. I could hear him on the phone with one of our regular customers arguing over another repair to his sled. He rode hard and had a tendency to shift late, which made him a frequent flier in the shop.

  “Old whatshisname has a Ducati, but he’s too chicken to ride it. It sits in the garage.” “Whatshisname, huh? You forgot him already?” She smiled and touched the side of her nose, and stuffed the last bite of burger into her mouth. Before I could stop myself, I reached over and wiped a little drop of Sriracha off of her lip with my thumb and licked it off of my finger. She took a long pull off the bottle and swallowed deeply.

  “Come on”, I set my half eaten bun down on my plate and picked up my beer. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her towards the garage door. She grabbed her beer and followed me through the door by the kitchen and out to the garage.

  I jumped on the chance to get her out in the garage because everyone knows that women love motorcycles. Nothing makes panties drop faster than Harley Davidson, except maybe Jose Cuervo.

  The garage was our happy place. We spent most of our time out here, rain, snow or shine. It was considerably less organized than the house was. Who am I kidding? I preferred to think of it as disorganized organization. Inside my home, I hated a mess. It reminded me too much of the shit hole I grew up in. I needed neat and clean. Out here it was an ocean of tools and parts and bikes.

  There were currently five bikes that we were actively working on, including the one we brought home tonight. There were a few others that were project bikes we fiddled with when the work was slow. Eventually we’d sell them off. The smell of grease and exhaust fumes was something I found comforting.

  “This is Lola. She is a vintage 1971 Harley Electra Glide, fully restored. I started with just a rusted out frame from a junkyard” I know there was obvious pride in my voice. Joss ran her hands over the seat with reverence in her eyes, and it made my dick twitch. “May I?” For some crazy ass reason I was ok with her straddling my bike, something no other woman has ever done, in fact, I wanted it. “Be my guest”. She grabbed ahold of the grips for balance, and gracefully slid one leg over the top of my beloved Lola. I watched her smi
le at the open road she imagined in front of her. For a split second, I saw it too, but she was pressed against my back, her brunette hair whipping in the wind behind us and my hand against her thigh.

  It had taken me a full two years to find all the genuine parts I needed to bring her back to showroom condition. Her black paint was pristine and the sparkling blue highlight color was perfectly vibrant. I was totally OCD about keeping her spotless. Every road excursion ended with a clean and polish.

  Tipping her head back, she took another long pull from her beer, emptying the spit hit. “She is truly a beautiful lady”, Joss said reverently, her fingers travelling over the chrome handlebars. “Yes, she is.” I’m not sure if I meant Lola or Joss.

  Nick chose that moment to join us. His shock is evident. He knows me better than anyone else, and I know he would have been less surprised to see me fucking her than he was to see her sweet little ass seated on my tooled leather seat. “Well, I see you’ve met Lola.” Joss giggled again, swinging that bare leg over the seat and walking towards our wall of fame. I swear that I caught just a hint of pink from the boxers riding up her thighs when she dismounted. I could feel the blood shifting south into my dick. “Wow, You guys have done some truly great work. They’re like works of art. These are some stunning before and after pics”.

  Nick was behind her before I could get there, pointing out some of our best customizations. She seemed genuinely interested in the bikes and the stories behind them. “This one belonged to the kid’s grandpa. He found it in a barn covered with chicken shit after the old man died. It was a mess when he brought it in. Took months just to get the shit and feathers off of it.” “He looks thrilled with the results.” “He was”, I interjected myself into the conversation, “he even found his grandfather’s riding gloves. He wears them to this day.”

  “This one here,” he gestured to one of our favorite projects, “belonged to a friend of ours. He wanted to make it a tribute to his best friend who died in Iraq so it has the Navy symbols on it.”

  “I’m going to skip to the loo and grab another beer, if you don’t mind, gentlemen?” “Of course, grab me one too, please?”. “Me three”, Nick added.

  Joss scurried into the house and we both watched her ass wiggle without the slightest bit of shame.

  “What the everloving fuck is up with you?” Nick hissed, as soon as she was out of earshot, “You let her sit on Lola! You want her, don’t you?” I didn’t answer him. I know what the answer is, and frankly, I am just as surprised as he is.

  “How many times have you said Lola is all the woman you can handle and the rest is just pussy?” Yep, I have said that more times than I can count. I don’t answer him and busy myself moving tools around on the workbench. He stares at me, hands on his hips and eyebrows raised, waiting for a response.

  I ran my fingers nervously through my short military fade and took a deep breath and a slow exhale. “Not gonna lie brother. I’m interested. You are too.” It was a statement of fact, not a question. I didn’t even need for him to give me an answer.

  “I was going to be her shoulder to cry on.” Mick pointed to his chest with his thumb, “I was going to fuck the memory of the asshole ex right out of her head. I found her. I get first dibs”.

  “Dibs? Are you fucking kidding me? Is she first pick on your kickball team?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, she is my first pick because I saw her first”.

  “You sound like a twelve year old.”

  “Twelve year olds do not claim pussy”. I slammed my hand down on the workbench, “God damn it Mick, you are an asshole.”

  He backed off and so did I.

  We’ve disagreed on things a time or two over the years, but never over a piece of tail. I guess we never found one worth fighting over before. I can’t identify why I am intrigued by her. She’s different than the leather clad biker babes we usually come in contact with. Mick’s mom is forever inviting us to their Motorcycle Club’s parties and events in the hopes that Mick will decide to prospect. The girls there are in it for the party. They’re looking for free booze and hard dick and live for the hope that some idiot will claim them.

  Jocelyn Hamilton is different, all right. She’s a little crazy and a whole lot of resilient. She’s way out of our league. She’s smart and educated and funny and I just want to know her a little more. Fucking her senseless would just be a bonus.

  “This is not cool.” “Agreed.” I still wasn’t letting go of the fight though.

  “Do you think she’s down with, you know, haring?”, Mick stared me down.

  I considered that idea with interest. “Christ, she’s been with one guy in five years, he broke her heart and fired her two hours ago, and now you think she’s gonna agree to go to bed with two strangers at one time?”

  “She might”. We both froze at the feminine voice behind us and turned around to face her standing in the doorway.

  She silently handed me a beer, and gave me a little smile that made her eyes crinkle, then turned and faced Mick. She handed him his longneck and winked, “Give her time to think about it.” She turned and walked back into the house, looking over her shoulder and giving us one last little little smile as she shut the door.

  Chapter 6--Joss

  “Christ, she’s been with one guy in ten years, he broke her heart and fired her two hours ago, and now you think she’s gonna agree to go to bed with two strangers at one time?”

  I froze at the screen door that I was just about to push open to deliver these ice cold brews to the sexy men in the garage.

  I heard just enough of their argument to make my panties melt, if I was actually wearing any. My pussy had been virtually ignored for a very long time, longer than I cared to admit, and it sparked to life at the thought of being sandwiched between these two deliciously hard bodies. My sex life with David had been very vanilla, in fact if there was a flavor more plain and tasteless than vanilla, that would be it. Maybe tap water. Yes, our sex life could only be equated with tap water. I was done with tap water. I wanted sriracha. Hell, my sex life before David was nothing to brag about. My colle

  “She might”. The words spilled out of my mouth fueled by both want and need. I hadn’t had sex--real sex--the kind with an actual person in the same room--in six or seven months and even then it was uninspiring. Most of the action I had seen in the last three years was compliments of my extensive collection of vibrating battery operated boyfriends. I handed the very sexy Grey his beer, making just a tiny bit of contact between my hand and his. I turned to face Mick, the hot, Italian, tattooed stallion and handed him one too.

  I couldn’t resist one last glance over my shoulder, and pretended to be much calmer and cooler than I really was. I hoped they were looking at my ass.

  Chapter 7--Mick

  I wish I had slept a little more last night. I spit mouthwash into the sink, added a little mousse in my hair to keep it just right and checked my teeth to make sure nothing was stuck in them. Our lovely houseguest is already up and at ‘em this morning. Pulling a dark gray t-shirt over my head I carefully tucked it into my tight faded jeans. I slipped the black leather belt through the loops and buckled up the silver skull in the front. I headed out to the kitchen to greet the day and, most of all, the lady who has my attention. The smell of perfectly brewed coffee was pulling me in. Normally the kitchen was my domain since Grey is an awful cook. I didn’t mind sharing with Joss.

  Or maybe I do. “What are you doing?” “DILLIGAF?” “What?” “DILLIGAF. That’s what your shirt says.” My business records are spread from one end of the kitchen to the other in at least two dozen carefully sorted piles, each one weighted down by a piece of our silverware. Joss is still in the boxers and t-shirt I gave her last night, but is now wearing the cutest little black cat eyed glasses and is wearing her hair in two braids sticking out of the top of her head. It gives her a cute and nerdy look and I find irresistable. She has a yellow number two pencil between her lips. I want to bite her on the back of
her neck, just below her hair line.

  “You answer my question and I’ll answer yours.” She smiled and handed me a steaming mug of coffee, “Well, I wanted to thank you guys for helping me, so I am going to fix this cluster fuck. I’m going to create a record system and sort out your AR/AP. Also get a jump on your state and federal tax documents for the year. Your turn.” “Do I look like I give a fuck?” She looks confused now. “My shirt. DILLIGAF stands for Do I Look Like I Give A Fuck?” I point out each letter with the corresponding word. “I like it.” She goes back to sorting the pile in her hand. Before I can comment further, we’re interrupted.

  “What the fuck is this?” Oh shit. Grey has joined us. Captain Organized has detected a mess in his home and his brain is about to explode. “Joss is paying us back for rescuing her by creating a records system and sorting out our AARP.”

  Giggle and snort again. Too fucking cute. “AARP is for old people. I said AR/AP. Accounts Receivable and Accounts Payable. And I am going to get a jump on your taxes.” Grey poured himself a cup of coffee and somehow maintained his cool. “So, I thought you had a system for all of this stuff, bro.” “I do.” Again with the giggle and snort. “No offense Mick, but stick to fixing bikes. You are amazing at that. You totally suck at this. I promise it will be perfect when I’m done. I’m also finding a sizeable number of unpaid invoices, though.”

  Cool was gone. We were nose to nose and Grey was pissed off. “What the fuck, Mick, you’re not paying the bills?” Joss jumped up between us, a hand on each of our chests. I like the way it feels and so does my dick. “NO! I didn’t say that. Chill out Marine. Your customers are not paying you. Now if one of you will give me a ride into the office supply store I need to pick up a receipt book and some printer paper and ink i can get this sorted out. I found some mad money in my purse too. Not that I don’t appreciate use of your boxers, but I could really use some fresh panties and a few other things.”