Pleasure Train

Pleasure Train

Willow Larkin wasn’t ready when the subject of white picket fences came up. She was too young and had too much more to experience. Life awaited, so she hit the road. She landed in Forever, Missouri, six months ago, and if things don’t liven up soon, she’ll be moving on.

Josh Bodie, Jack Tower, and Mikey Black had known each other for years and finally came together to start their own consulting company. They’ve been in Forever for a few weeks and have their eyes set on Willow. She serves them every morning at the café, and each of them is intrigued by her.

The men had determined long ago they needed to find one special woman to share their life. On a scenic train ride, they give Willow a taste of the pleasure that awaits in their arms. Willow never expected a train to hold all the excitement she’d ever need.

Genre:
Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length:
20,487 words

Christelle Mirin

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

PLEASURE TRAIN

Copyright © 2012 by Christelle Mirin

E-book ISBN:
978-1-61926-767-1

First E-book Publication: June 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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Pleasure Train
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PLEASURE TRAIN

CHRISTELLE MIRIN

Copyright © 2012

“You look like you either got laid last night or you desperately need to,” Sue whispered in Willow’s ear.

Sue sure had a way with words. Willow turned away from the counter and yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. It was almost nine in the morning, and she was still having trouble waking up.

“Willow, what is wrong with you? Didn’t you sleep?” Sue leaned past her, placing a cup of coffee in front of Stu, the mechanic from across the street.

“Thanks, Sue,” he said, his voice like gravel.

“You’re welcome, hon.”

“I slept, but not much, and no, I did not get laid,” Willow said, turning back around to face the counter when she heard the bell above the door ring. Someone had just walked in, and that someone was the hunky, military-looking guy that had been coming in for breakfast five days a week for the past month. He always took a booth in the back. She was sure his two friends would be joining him within fifteen minutes, as usual.

Sue nudged her arm. “You getting them today?”

Willow chuckled. “If I could
get
them, I’d be sleeping better.” She reached for three coffee cups and placed them on a serving tray. “But to answer your question, yeah. These boys are mine.” She filled all three cups with black regular and started for the booth.

The other two came through the door together. Willow stopped at the end of the counter, letting them pass her on the way to the booth. “Mornin’, boys,” she said, adding a Southern spin to her words.

The one with the AC/DC T-shirt turned and grinned at her before sliding into the booth beside military man.

“Wonder what in the world those three have in common,” Sue said from behind her. “They sure look completely different, like too different to be friends.”

“Funny, isn’t it?” Willow walked around the edge of the counter. “They say variety is the spice of life, though,” she said over her shoulder, throwing Sue a wink.

Over the past few weeks, all Willow had learned about them were their first names. The hunky military man was Josh. The rock-band T-shirt with the bed-head curls was Mikey. And the nerdy Johnny Depp look-alike was Jack. Three unlikely friends who came in the café every morning for breakfast who, by the time they were gone every day, had her fantasizing about one, two, or all three of them at the same time. It was driving her nuts. What was it about the mysterious threesome that sparked her libido?

“Here’s your coffee, guys.” She placed the three cups in front of them one by one. “Black and strong, just like you like it.” She pulled her order pad out of her apron pocket and laid it on the tray. Grabbing her pen from behind her ear, she poised it above the pad. “What can I get you this bright and shiny Friday morning?”

Jack looked up at her, shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with an index finger. “I’ll have French toast with strawberries and whipped cream.” He smiled, his bottom lip trembling slightly, as if he was nervous about talking to her at all.

Willow wrote down his order, wondering what he would look like if she could get him out of those dress pants, white button-down, and glasses. Sitting there as he was, he looked a little nerdy and acted nervous. What was he like outside in the real world?

Josh, her military man with the close-cropped blond hair and deep-green, Clint Eastwood squint, cleared his throat. “I’ll have three eggs, hard, with bacon and hash browns.”

She jotted down his order. “What kind of toast would you like?”

“Wheat.” He laid his menu on the table.

“Wheat it is. You sure you wouldn’t like some juice, just to sweeten up that frown wrinkling your forehead?”

He quickly touched his forehead then realized what he had just done. He let out a small chuckle and dropped his hand back to the table. “A small one.”

“A little sweet is better than none,” she said, giving him a wink. She turned to Mikey. “How about you, young blood?” He looked to be the wildest, most normal of the three, probably midtwenties and a father’s nightmare.

Mikey waved his menu back and forth in front of his face, fanning himself. “Can I get a burger? Please? You know I’m not into this breakfast stuff.” He stuck out his lower lip in a fake pout.

Willow laughed. “You make my day, you know that? Sure, I’ll get you a burger. With fries, too.” She wrote it down and flipped her order pad closed. “I’ll be back.” She turned and walked away, putting an extra sway into her back view. She’d worn a white tee just a bit too small today that tended to ride up her back and a pair of her low-cut jeans. Her rear view should give them a glimpse of the tiger paws that were tattooed across her lower back and looked as if a tiger was clawing her skin to escape from inside her pants.

She turned in their orders and went to the kitchen to get the orange juice from the fridge where they kept it.

Her tiger paws—or “tramp stamp” as some would call it—had been the final thing that had caused her to tell her boyfriend, Kenny, to get lost. He had gone ballistic when she had come home after spending hours in the tat chair. Kenny wanted her to act like a PTA-member wannabe, and she wanted to experience the full circus of life. So…she left.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him. She had, at first, but their relationship started to change, and in her view, it wasn’t for the better. He wanted to settle down and started hinting about buying a house and getting married. No more spur-of-the moment trips or wild sex in new, sometimes dangerous places. At twenty-seven, she wasn’t ready to give it all up to settle down. She was still the same person she had been when he met her, back when he had loved her fearlessness. Kenny had changed. He had begun to act more and more like his father, and that wasn’t who she had fallen in love with.

Which made leaving easier than she had imagined.

Willow had landed there, in Forever, Missouri, six months earlier and had not been able to find the right man to help her do more exploring of the wilder side of life. Thanks to the lack of male companionship, she had been forced to relieve her frustrations herself. If things didn’t change soon, she was going to move on, preferably before her vibrator gave out.

Shaking her head to bring herself back to real time, she finished pouring the juice and returned to the front. She placed the orange juice on her serving tray and waited for her orders to come up.

Sue came to stand beside her. “Hasn’t one of them asked you out yet?”

Willow glanced at her three regulars. Two of them were discussing something animatedly while military-hunk Josh sipped his coffee and watched the volley of words between the other two. She sighed. “No,” she said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “I don’t get it, either. They’re interested, I can see it in their eyes, but not one of them has jumped.” She looked at Stu, who was slurping his coffee and trying not to look like he was listening to every word—which he was. Willow straightened and parked her hands on the countertop on either side of Stu’s cup and saucer. She leaned forward, just a little, to allow for some cleavage and the edge of the pink and white polka-dot bra she wore to show above the vee neck of her tee. “What do you think, Stu? Have I lost my feminine allure?” She tilted her head coyly.

Stu leaned back in his chair. When he was able to pull his gaze from her boobs, he finally looked her in the eye. “I’d do you,” he said, matter-of-factly, his face as stoic as ever.

Willow pursed her lips, took a deep breath, then let it out. Shoving off the counter, she snatched Stu’s check from beneath his saucer. “It’s on me today,” she said, tucking the paper into a pocket on her apron.

“Order up!” Chuck, the grill cook, who was also the owner, called through the serving window from the kitchen.

Willow reached for Jack’s plate of French toast and placed it on her tray.

“Well, I don’t get it,” Sue said, helping to get the food from the window. “With your two-toned hair, blue eyes, and pale skin, I’d swear you look like one of those starlets from the late forties. And what I wouldn’t give for your curves.” She slid her hands down her sides, emphasizing her straight figure.