The Trashy Virgin: A Menage Romance

Finally though, the two came out. My best girl was shamefaced for sure, looking down at the floor, cheeks red, stumbling a bit as she walked into the common area. But Jason? That freak was all about the conquest. He sauntered out like nothing was wrong, strides long, sure and confident.

“What’s up?” he drawled lazily like a big lion, striding over to the fridge and peering inside. “Fuck, there’s nothing to eat.”

I rolled my eyes. Trust a teen boy to complain about lack of food at a moment like this. I mean, I’d just caught him fucking his almost-stepsister, didn’t he have anything to worry about other than his stomach?

But it was the perfect opening actually. I grabbed my jacket and stood up.

“Why don’t we grab a bite at the diner?” I rumbled smoothly. “It’s never great to think on an empty stomach, can’t get anything done.”

Katy looked shocked.

“But didn’t you want to talk?” she asked uncertainly, biting her lip. “Aren’t you angry … or, I dunno, confused at least?”

And I smiled lazily at her then.

“Sure I wanna talk, but there’s no sense in chatting when your stomach acid is churning from lack of food,” I said smoothly. “And this guy here, he’s been going at it hard, he’s got to get some fuel in himself.”

Jason shot me a dirty look.

“Fuck you,” he spat. “Fuck you.”

The epithet rolled off my back and I smiled beatifically.

“Like I said, no food makes for an asshole,” I drawled again.

Now Jason looked positively ready to jump me, but I was too fast, my feet were already out the door and into the truck.

“Meet you in fifteen,” I called, revving the motor before rumbling off. “Moonlight Diner over by Third and Park.”

And as I glanced in the rearview mirror, sure enough Jason was getting into the car. I knew the call of food was too strong for a guy who’d been having sex, he needed calories stat. And Katy too, was getting into gear. She still looked stricken and unsure of herself, but with trembly steps, she too hoisted herself into the truck cab, plopping uncertainly in her seat.

And I just chuckled to myself. I’ve been an alpha male for decades and seen a lot of people, been in a lot of weird scenarios. Sure, this was a stranger one, but you know what? I was looking forward to our chat. Because Brent Larson isn’t someone who loses … he only wins.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Katy

The Moonlight Diner is a greasy spoon over on the edge of town known for its generous portions and late-night crowd. So at five in the afternoon, the place was deserted, one bored waitress standing by the counter reading the paper, smacking her gum.

She barely looked up when I walked in, but when she saw the two huge alpha males behind me, her demeanor switched from night to day, the middle-aged woman was all smiles, swaying hips and suggestive glances.

“How many?” she purred, her hand stroking the plastic menus sensuously. Gross, those menus were greasy and dirty, and yet she was making like it was a sexy rub.

“Three,” returned Brent smoothly, an eyebrow arched with humor. He was used to getting special treatment, women melting into tiny puddles in his vicinity, swooning with lust.

And this chick was no different.

“Oh of course,” she gushed, grabbing the menus and seating us by the window. “I’m Tammy, your server today. And you are?”

I stared at Brent and Jason, amazed. Since when did waitresses ask the names of their customers? But Brent just rolled with it, ignoring her question. “I’m looking for some hot coffee while we wait, thanks so much. You two?” he quirked an eyebrow at us.

And Jason was right on the ball.

“Coke,” he said.

Stunned in a small voice, I added, “Diet Coke for me, please.”

But that was the wrong thing to say because both Jason and Brent frowned at me immediately.

“Why are you drinking a Diet Coke?” Brent growled. “Honey, diet’s no good.”

And Jason, despite his palpable animosity towards Brent, nodded, brows drawn.

“Katy, that diet shit’s all fake sugar, and besides, you don’t need to lose weight, you’re perfect the way you are.”

I colored, the waitress still looking at us expectantly, eyebrows raised. I just wanted her to go away as fast as possible so I mumbled, “Coke then, thanks,” and the woman snapped her pad shut.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks!” she trilled with a wink and a nod. And was my mind playing tricks, or did her walk have an extra swing, an extra bounce knowing that these handsome men were in her diner?

But I sighed, relieved to see the back of her striped uniform. At least we had some privacy now, at least we could talk without nosy ears overhearing.

But the alphas weren’t done yet.

“Honey, you’re gorgeous,” rumbled Brent, his deep blue gaze meaningful, filled with concern. “None of that diet shit, ever again. If anything, you need to gain weight, you’re too thin.”