The Hero Sandwich (2 page)

“There will be no interaction between the two of us; it will be all about him pleasuring us and vice versa. We need this, Nicci. I say we plunge into the deep end of the pool. Man-meat there will be the perfect filling for our hero sandwich. What do you say, should I go to his table and invite him to join us?”

CHAPTER
TWO

Nicci stole another glance at man-meat, as Connie referred to him, took a long sip from her gin and tonic, and set her glass down. She supposed she shouldn’t feel shocked. Connie had always been the adventurous one. A sexual fantasy such as this didn’t surprise Nicci, nor did her supposed part in this fantasy. Ever since the divorce, Connie filled her nights with sexual exploits, but Nicci knew it didn’t fill the gaping hole in Connie’s heart. If anyone understood Connie’s inner pain, it was Nicci. Behind the devil may care, no holds barred exterior was a woman shattered by betrayal. Connie understood Nicci’s pain as well. After marrying her high school sweetheart, Nicci thought life was golden. She and Brad were happy and lived life to the fullest. That changed when the doctor diagnosed him with congestive heart failure. The devastation they felt when they received the news still resonated. Brad was young, athletic, worked out, and watched his diet. Neither of them was prepared for the news or the changes that would take place so early in their marriage.

They did all the right things, followed the doctor’s advice, and Brad’s name was added to a transplant list. While they both tried to go on as if things were normal, their life together was never the same. Brad withdrew from her physically and emotionally. Their sex life, which had been fulfilling and frequent, tapered off to practically nothing. No amount of seduction on her part got him to respond. Brad was unreceptive, insisting the medication dampened his ability to perform. Nicci could’ve accepted the excuse, but she knew better. Brad was afraid, and rightly so. But there were other things they could do sexually—Brad simply would not touch her.

Things came to a head one evening when Nicci came home to find Brad waiting for her. He’d prepared a romantic dinner complete with flowers, candles, and soft music. As they ate, he proposed a solution—he suggested Nicci take a lover. She was a passionate woman, he’d said, and she deserved a fulfilling sex life—one he could no longer give her. She protested vehemently and they argued all night until she stormed out of the house and ran to Connie in tears.

When she finally returned home later that evening, Brad was contrite and apologetic. They went to bed, and for the first time in months, he made love to her. Brad was gentle, attentive, and when he thrust inside her, Nicci felt alive and cherished. He lit her body on fire with his mouth, his tongue, and his hands. He kissed her with an urgency that left her breathless and wanting. When they were both sated, she fell asleep in his arms. The next morning, he was gone. Despite the doctor’s assurance to the contrary, Nicci believed her selfish physical needs were the reason he died.

Nicci tossed back the rest of her drink and stole another look at the man across from them. He was young and virile, no chance he would have health issues. One look from him made her body hum with sexual desire. Maybe, for this one night, for Connie, she would slake the need she tried so hard to suppress.

“Yes.” She trembled and wasn’t quite sure if nerves or the anticipation caused her to do so. “Ask him to join us, but hurry before I come to my senses. And make my next drink a double.”

The boilermakers weren’t working. All right, he had a slight buzz. Barrett Michaels glanced down at the empty MGD beer bottles on his table. He only had two boilermakers so far. He wished he had started with them. At two hundred and thirty-five pounds, it would take a lot for him to get lost in a drunken fog. He waited for what Paul Newman described in the
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
movie as “that mechanical click” in his brain.
The one that turns the hot light off and the cool one on.
The one that brought peace. The night ahead would be long and lonely, nothing new there.

How ironic Newman played a washed up athlete in the movie. It fit. The afternoon meeting with the manager of the Monterey Mustangs played over and over in his mind like a sadistic video loop. He’d been cut from the Double A team and his dreams of playing baseball in the majors went up in smoke. Since he was ten years old, he’d wanted to play professional baseball. His entire life focused on achieving his goal. The words from manager Grant Philips sliced his heart to ribbons.

“You got the power Barrett, you even have the drive. You just don’t have the talent. Your grit and determination got you to this point, but I’m sorry to say you’re not going any further.”

Barrett reached for his beer glass and took another deep gulp. At twenty-eight, he was done. Now what in the fuck was he supposed to do? Start over? Try out for a Single A team in hopes of making it to Double A again? Then what? Be cut again? Nine long years it took him to reach Double A, and to start over at this point in his life? Impossible.

He did everything right, worked out hours a day, spent more hours in the batting cage, studied videos, and lived a clean life. Sacrificed his personal life—all for what?

Barrett scoffed. He did have a teaching degree to fall back on. His major in physical education with a minor in history could secure him a position with a school board, surely. Teachers made shitty money. Barrett snorted aloud. Couldn’t be any worse than the twenty-two hundred a month he made in Double A.

If his pity party continued down this road, then he might as well have more to drink. He waved the waiter over who immediately cleared away the empties.

“What can I get you?”

Barrett glanced up at the young man holding the tray.
Probably a college boy, good-looking too.
Of course, in the Cougar Cave, the entire staff were young and handsome, to please the old broads, no doubt.

“Get me a double scotch, none of that blended shit. And bring me another MGD.” Barrett tossed his car keys on the tray. “Hold these for me, and make sure when I’m done drinking, you call a cab.”

The youth nodded and melted away into the crowd.

Barrett looked down into his beer and exhaled when a sultry, feminine voice asked, “Mind if I sit down for a moment?”

He glanced up. Ah, the old doll in the leather skirt that checked him out earlier on the way to the bathroom. Not much got past him, even with an alcohol-fogged brain. Why the fuck not? He came to this bar to get laid, didn’t he? Anything to forget his pain. He certainly didn’t want some giggling, gum snapping college co-ed hanging off him. The times he indulged in one-night stands he preferred older women. They didn’t cling, nor did they want more from him than he was willing to give. They were experienced and at their sexual peak. A win-win situation.

“Sure, take a seat.”

Barrett leaned back against the bench seat, and cast an appraising gaze over the woman. Early forties, he surmised, attractive, good body. He glanced down at her French manicured nails. Pampered herself as well. Her golden, shoulder-length blonde hair was styled perfectly, with the various layers curled inward to frame a pretty face. Not too much makeup, just enough to play up her features. Her bluish-gray eyes had a frosty look, much like an early winter’s morning.

“My friend and I were wondering if you would like to join us at our table. We have—a proposition for you.” She smiled, but the smile did not go all the way to her cool gaze.

“Who’s your friend?”

The woman turned around and pointed to another sitting at the table across the way. Barrett felt as if someone punched him in the solar plexus. It was
her
. The woman he’d been checking out earlier. He would’ve got up to walk to her table, but “leather skirt” returned before he could manage it. God, when she slid her drink over her neck and up to her flushed cheeks, he almost came in his jeans. The erotic vision seared his soul, a wet dream come to life. Then his drink arrived, and Barrett slid back into the self-imposed despair he’d been wallowing in since the meeting in the Mustangs office. Their eyes met once again in a searing gaze, electricity and heat covering his whole body from just one look. Okay, now he was intrigued, very intrigued as his dick stirred to life.

“I’m Connie, by the way. What we’re interested in is the three of us going to a hotel room. I’ll warn you right now, I know guys get off watching two women go at it, but that scenario is not on our agenda. You’ll be pleasuring us. We’re not putting on a floor show for you. Understand?” Connie smiled. “Of course, we will both be pleasuring you, quite thoroughly.”

Barrett’s cock hardened. This couldn’t be real. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Logistically speaking, how would that work? All sorts of erotic visions flashed through his brain. The image that caused his mouth to go dry involved him spread out naked on a bed, and both women licking, sucking, and kissing him all over.

“Yeah, I understand. My name is Barrett. You make a habit of this?”

Connie leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “No, and neither does my friend. This is a one-time thing. All we want is a little bi-play with a gorgeous hunk of man-meat, and we chose you. Neither of us is into kink, so get any ideas out of your head of bondage and such.”

Barrett laughed, he couldn’t help it. When it came to sex he was pretty much game for anything over the years. A few years back, a girl tied him down on a bed. He found he didn’t like it, the loss of control and the helplessness, so no worries there. But everything else? Open for negotiations.

“What, no spanking?”

Connie’s finger trailed over her cleavage, she pulled her top down slightly to give him a peek at a pair of luscious tits.

“We’ll see how it goes, sugar. So, are you in?”

Barrett glanced again to the table where her friend sat. She looked pensive and maybe a little expectant, even hopeful, which made her more attractive in his eyes. Was she going along with the plan because this Connie wanted it? His gaze slid back to the woman sitting in front of him. He wanted to forget, to ease his pain, why not with two women?

The waiter showed up with his drinks. Barrett pointed to the ladies’ table.

“Take the drinks over there.”

He stood, snatched his leather coat off the peg, and slung it over his shoulder.

“I’m in.”

He’d agreed.
Nicci’s heart hammered an erratic cadence against her chest. She watched his gaze rake over Connie as he followed her to their table. He’d be doing more than looking soon enough. She couldn’t believe the man agreed. Feelings of anticipation and apprehension battled for control. He was tall and muscular—in a word, powerful. His movements were fluid, mesmerizing, and she couldn’t help but notice the play of muscles in his thighs as he took one long stride after another toward their table. Nicci took a generous gulp from her drink.

The waiter arrived first and placed drinks on the table. “Can I bring the ladies anything?”

“Bring us another round.” Connie slid into the booth and gave her a reassuring smile.
He
slid in next to Connie, stretched his muscular arms along the back of the booth, and leveled an assessing gaze on her. Since he was sitting this close, Nicci studied his features. He was movie star handsome, but rugged and masculine like those classic stars from another era altogether. Clark Gable came to mind. He oozed virility and a sexy boldness that was vastly appealing. His expression promised a night of sensual bliss from his half-lidded gaze to the curve of his sly grin. The bow of his upper lip caught her attention, and Nicci’s tongue swept over her own in expectation of his sensual mouth on her bare skin. Vivid images of their naked bodies pressed together sent a rush of desire through her, heating her skin until it prickled.

“Nicci, this is Barrett.”

“Nice to meet you, Nicci.” The tantalizing sound of his deep, masculine voice sent a shiver of need straight to her pussy. Damn it all, she couldn’t get her own voice to respond, not when her body did all the responding for her. “I should let you ladies know this is a first for me as well.”

Silence hung heavy in the air, what to talk about? How to answer what he said? “You’re healthy right? I mean—you aren’t sick or anything?” Her face flushed.

“Don’t worry, baby, I get checked regularly. I’m clean, but if you’re worried, I’ve got protection.”

Nicci squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. It wasn’t what she meant, but then how could he know she’d been referring to Brad, and the way he died.

Connie interjected. “We should make some ground rules up front. No last names, no background. And Nicci, I already mentioned it to Barrett, no kinky stuff either. That isn’t what this is all about.”

Barrett leaned forward, his arms crossed against his impressive chest. “So, just what is this all about?”

“Pleasure, sugar. Raw, sensual bliss. Nothing else.” Connie’s voice ended with a purr.

“And no kissing—” Nicci blurted out. Both Connie and Barrett stared at her as if she had grown a second head. “On the lips, I mean…” Her face grew hotter, the flush spread into her hairline. Kissing would be too intimate. Nicci knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it.

She glanced away. Where was the waiter with their drinks? Her emotions were all over the map. Sitting here making inane small talk seemed ridiculous considering they would all soon be naked in a hotel room. Nicci stole another quick glance at Barrett. She liked the name, it fit him somehow. His gaze remained fixed on her and shivers of pure lust coiled down her spine. Those sky blue eyes were mesmerizing as hell.