My Boyfriend and His Friend (The Forbidden Fun)

“That’s ridiculous,” my friend continues. “What we do in our personal lives is none of their business. It can’t be legal. Hell, can we sue them? I have half a mind to try.”

I throw in my two cents as well.

“Even if it is legal, it’s not your fault, honey. Chris and I are the ones who brought the idea of a menage to you, so if anything, we’re the ones at fault.”

Patty nods, but her tears won’t stop and her sobs are piteous. My heart feels like it’s being torn in half, and I swear I’m ready to stomp on that fucking Matt until his head bursts.

“But … but …” Patty sobs. “We’ve been really discreet but someone must have told Fast Theory, and now you’ve lost your jobs.”

Chase squeezes her hand, his blue eyes flashing. “We don’t know if that’s true, but it doesn’t matter. Everything’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” he promises in a deep voice. “Don’t worry your little head about this. We’ll take care of everything.”

Patty nods again and sniffles, but I can tell she’s not assuaged because it’s going to take time to figure this mess out. Not only that, but Chase and I pick up all of our bills because Patty’s still a student. But now with both of us unemployed, how will we survive?

My rage only grows and catches fire. These assholes have upset my girlfriend, and paying the bills is the least of my worries right now. As my eyes meet Chase’s ice-blue gaze, I can tell we’re on the same page. These dumbfucks are going to pay.

9

Patty

* * *

A week later.

I know Chris and Chase told me not to worry. I know they said that our finances are stable, and that they have a lot of money saved up to get us through this pinch. But I feel terrible because their nest egg was supposed to go towards starting up their own gym, but now, we’re using it to pay our day-to-day expenses. I feel terrible, and there’s no way I can stand by and do nothing.

After all, I know Chris and Chase were fired because of me. A lot of people in our small town are gossips, and I could feel the eyes trailing me whenever I walked around the neighborhood. Not only that, but people whisper behind their hands, their eyes judgmental as I grocery shop and run errands. So instinctively, I know my boyfriends were let go because of our alternative lifestyle.

Of course, Chase and Chris say the firings infringe upon our civil rights, but does it really matter? After all, getting something like this through the court system is like watching glue dry. It’ll take forever, and in the meantime, we still have bills to pay. How are the three of us going to survive without a paycheck?

That’s why I’m here now, sitting in my car in front of the Krazy Kat club. It’s a low-slung building that doesn’t exactly scream high-end or classy, but at the same time, I’m desperate. I came here a while back for a wet t-shirt contest with Rachel, and honestly, it’s the only strip club I’ve ever been to. That’s why I picked it.

After all, I need to contribute to our household finances. I can’t just let Chase and Chris dig into their savings while I loll about, living off their largesse. As a result, I grab my bag and tentatively step out into the parking lot. The asphalt is baking and it’s still hot outside despite the setting sun, but when I push open the heavy door, the interior is cool and dim.

Ugh, the set-up isn’t exactly fancy. Most of the illumination comes from purple neon lights gleaming from under the bar counter on one side, save for a few spotlights pointed at the stage. Golden poles are planted in the floor, although there are no women dancing at the moment. I push my curls behind my ears and make my way to a waitress with an empty tray in one hand. She looks friendly enough with her magenta hair and skimpy one-piece get-up. Then, I do a double take. There’s actually no fabric covering her breasts, merely a fringe that plays peek-a-boo with her swollen, creamy tits. OMG, am I really up for this?

“What’s up, darlin?” she asks while gathering empty bottles to place on her tray. How this woman balancing on five-inch stilettos, I have no idea, but I suppose that’s a skill I’m going to have to pick up.

“Um, I was wondering where I can find your manager?” I stammer. “Is he or she here?”

She nods, not even looking up. “Yep, you want Mitchell.” She nods to a semi-hidden door next to the bar with a gold star on it. “Just a warning, darlin’: I’d knock first. You never know what Mitch is up to.”