Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)

“Um, yes,” Jazz squeaked out.

“Are they beating each other bloody? Do I need to find them and referee? Actually, you know what? Since Gumby showed up we haven’t talked much. Are you guys…you know?” There went her hyperactive eyebrows again. “And does that mean you’re totally done with Screw? How have I not asked you all this yet?”

“Um, you’re busy with your own drama? It’s not every day a man who was imprisoned for murdering someone you love but was actually innocent shows up on your doorstep. How are you handling all that?” Jazz went back to the task of opening the wine.

Holly wagged a pointer back and forth. “While that may be true, we’re psychoanalyzing your life right now, not mine. So, nice try on the convo switch, but I’m not dumb enough to fall for it. Spill, sister.”

I had a threesome with Screw and Gumby.

The words, though on the very tip of her tongue, just wouldn’t fall out. “Remember when I said I wasn’t ready to talk about it?”

Holly’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “That’s what you’re not ready to talk about? Shit, girl, I didn’t realize you meant man drama.” Her sigh surpassed melodramatic after the first second. “Fine, leave me in the dark.” Holly winked. “Just promise me you’ll reach out if you need me.”

“Promise. Here.” Jazz held out a generously full stem glass.

“Just let me tinkle, then I’ll take it.”

Jazz laughed, probably for the first time all day, and a layer of tension melted away. “Tinkle? Really?”

With a shrug and a smirk, Holly disappeared down the hall toward the teeny-tiny half bathroom as Jazz sipped her wine.

Exhaustion settled heavy on her shoulders. Despite practically passing out after the powerful orgasm the men gave her, she’d spent much of the night tossing and turning.

They’d all woken around ten in the night, famished. She’d been too freaked out after waking with two men in her bed to allow them to stick around for a meal. In truth, it’d been the feelings of contentment that had really wigged her out. Screw at her back, Gumby at her front, both slumbering men with a hand resting on her still-naked body. She’d been warm, safe, and so damn comfortable, all she’d wanted to do was burrow in deeper and stay there forever.

That single thought had been enough to have her eyes flying open and her body jerking upright, which had woken both Gumby and Screw. They’d both seemed so…chill. As though what had happened between the three of them had been nothing more than sharing a soda. Meanwhile, she’d been screaming on the inside.

When Screw had stretched with a jaw-cracking yawn, triggering a monstrous rumble from his stomach, he’d suggested they order a pizza. Gumby had agreed without so much as a second of thought, and Jazz had been helpless to do much more than stare in confusion. When the hell had they become BFFs?

She’d been so thrown by the whole interaction, she’d ignored the clawing hunger in her own stomach in favor of telling them she was too tired to eat. When she hadn’t moved to ask them to stay, Gumby went to his room and Screw took off for his own house. Of course, neither man left before kissing the ever-loving hell outta her.

God, just the memory of Gumby’s lips on hers had her shivering. His kiss had been gentle yet insistent as he explored her mouth and awoke her arousal all over again. Then, with a wink and an offhand comment to Screw about them “hanging out” that night, he’d left her bedroom.

Since he’d fried her neural circuits, it’d taken a hot second for her brain to catch up to his words and just as she’d been about to ask Screw what the hell Gumby meant about them hanging out, the sexy jerk moved in and captured her mouth in his own kiss.

Two hot men, two sets of lips, two completely different experiences. Where Gumby had eased her into the lip-lock, Screw had pretty much devoured her. She’d barely remembered to breathe, let alone ask about Gumby’s comment. After he’d released her, spun her, slapped her ass, and given her a gentle shove toward her bed, he’d gone on his merry way, whistling. Literally whistling like he was one of the seven fucking dwarfs. It wasn’t until a solid five minutes after he’d left, five minutes of sitting on the edge of her bed and staring at nothing as her lips tingled, she’d remembered what Gumby had said.

With a sigh, she’d flopped back onto her bed where she’d spent the next seven hours tossing and turning as her brain ran in wild circles. The hottest sexual encounter of her life had replayed countless times while she wondered what this meant for them all.

Now, more than half a day later, she still couldn’t stop the whirring of her mind. Jazz was no stranger to threesomes. She may not have participated in one herself, but, come on, she’d spent many years around MCs. Threesomes were as common as leather with those guys. More than the number of participants, the who of the participants was fucking with her head. Screw and Gumby. Two men she’d though hated each other, then found out had an intense attraction to one another—and her apparently.