by Tia Siren
That evening, I went about my usual errands. I shopped at Whole Foods, and got the greenest greens and most organic meat I could find. I cooked myself a meal recommended from some TV cooking show I taped. I even found a nice new Jenna Haze video to jerk off to.
But as I stroked myself, watching Jenna get fucked by a guy who coincidentally also looked like me, I found I wasn’t thinking of her at all. I was wondering how Brooke’s curves looked when they weren’t squeezed into her professional office attire. I was imagining me finding out for myself, peeling her layers—one after another. I was imagining myself ripping off her soft blouse, sending little blue buttons rocketing across the room, then tearing down her skirt—the neat gray suede ripping along the sides. I was shoving her to her knees and taking my throbbing cock out, rubbing my bulk all over her face. She was looking at me with hungry eyes while she gulped me down, groaning as if she was the one getting sucked off. She was swirling her tongue and hands around me with such expertise that I couldn’t think straight. As she gulped me fully down her willing little throat, I let loose the ecstatic stream bubbling in me. I saw her taking it, slurping it, pumping and sucking out every last drop. And then I saw her holding onto my leg, asking for more. The more that I gave her, one hard cock at time. Her blue satin panties slid to the floor as I took her by her legs, put her feet over my shoulders and fucked her deep. She groaned and screamed, as orgasm after orgasm overtook her body. But I wasn’t finished yet. Now, I fucked her throat, ramming my hardness against the back of her throat, until she was gagging and I was cumming hotly as she choked on my dick, looking at me with such adoration, that afterwards, I sank to my knees and kissed her.
When I came to, I realized the Jenna Haze video had ended several minutes ago, while I’d cum all over the Kleenex I’d put over my dick. Gazing at its gooey contents, a strange sense of loss came over me. Like something was missing.
That sense followed me as I brushed my teeth that night, and even as I crawled into bed. It was weird and ridiculous, yet undeniable. Something was missing, and that something was Brooke.
Chapter 12
Brooke
Could today get any worse? It was only 10 a.m. and I was already ready for the day to be over. Mark and Jake were barely speaking, and pretty much every time I so much as looked or spoke to one of them, the other one sulked.
Finally, I had to excuse myself in the bathroom. As I passed through the busy waiting room and Deidre’s front desk, it seemed like she glared at me too. Was I imagining things?
In the flickering florescent light of the bathroom, I glared at my reflection. Just what the fuck had I gotten myself in to? I land my dream job with my dream bosses and the first thing I have to do —within a week, no less—was to fuck one of them? If I kept this up, I wouldn’t have a job at all. Already it seemed like the cheery atmosphere that had been there when I arrived had been destroyed.
In the mirror, I pursed my lips and checked my phone.
“Still want me over tonight?” Karly had asked me at 9:03 am.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket. If I was being honest with her right now, I’d text her back a definitive “no.” I didn’t want to hear any more teasing about the “hot docs,” and God knows I didn’t need any more reminders of how badly I’d fucked up, then the ones I’d been getting all day, with no end in sight.
As I glared at my reflection, my mom’s words came to mind. “No matter how much you fucked things up, Brooke, just remember, you can always un-fuck them up too.” It had been one of her signature phrases. She’d first said it when I was twelve, after my dad had ditched us for the final time. Not one to mince words, my mom. And, just like that, after seven years of back-and-forth chaos with my alcoholic Dad, she’d finally had enough. She put her foot down and we’d never seen him again. It was the best thing she’d ever done for me.
I nodded at myself. Yeah, I could un-fuck things up now. I could go out there and invite them both out for lunch. They could get to chatting like before and everything would be fine. I could do this.
“You okay?” Jake asked, when I returned from the bathroom.
He and Mark were in between surgeries, each sitting in the office without looking at or talking to the other.
“Yup,” I said, putting on a cheery smile as I sat down on a chair between them, “I was just thinking it would be nice to go to lunch today.”
“I’d love that,” Jake said.
“So would I,” Mark snapped.
“Great,” I said, “We can all go.”
That shut them both up with scowls. The rest of the morning was much the same. Through the revision rhinoplasty surgery, Jake and Mark said the bare minimum to each other, glaring whenever the other would so much as smile or glance at me. By the lunchtime, I was more than ready for a break from the tension filled environment.
“Okay, let’s go!” I trilled, throwing off my nurse coat with a flourish.
As Mark and Jake both stared at me, my heart sunk as I remembered I’d worn only a thin sweater underneath—and hadn’t bothered with a bra. I’d figured that it would be hidden under my doctor’s coat anyway.
If their awkward stares were any indication, my nipples were clearly evident under the rose cashmere.
I crossed my arms across my chest.
“You guys ready?”
Mark smiled, throwing his coat off the same way I had.
“I sure am.”
Jake, however, didn’t move. I stopped at the door.
“Jake, you coming?”
He didn’t move from his chair.
“No, think I’ll stay in for lunch today. You two have fun though.”
I paused, wavering.
“You sure?”
His gaze on me became unsure, then tormented. He looked away.
“Yeah, yeah, we have our dinner tomorrow night. You two have fun, Brooke.”
“Okay,” I said sadly, turning away. So much for my plan.
As Mark and I made our way out of the clinic, Mark asked “You’re having dinner with Jake?”
I sighed. Today was going to be a long day.
As it turned out, long was an understatement. When I came back with Mark after our “fun lunch,” where he’d insisted on sitting beside me in the booth and groping my ass when no one was looking, Jake was even more distant than before, with me this time, too. Mark, on the other hand, upped the ante on flirting with me. He teased me, poked me, brushed by me, and even spanked me once.
The minute the workday was over, I made a beeline out of there, without saying goodbye to either of them.
Back at home, I flopped on the couch and took out my phone.
There was a message from Mark.
“Hey there, sexy ;)”
There was another one from Karly too.
“Yo ho, we still on for tonight?”
I glanced at the TV I hadn’t been watching for about an hour, then back to my phone. The answer was obvious.
“Hell yeah, get on over here.”
Half an hour later, my door was erupting with knocks.
As soon as I answered it, Karly threw her arms around me.
“You totally do!!”
“I totally do, what?” I asked her as she sashayed in, wearing a pink velour tracksuit.
“You totally still have that sex glow,” she declared, looking me up and down.
I sighed.
“Kar,” I said, “I really, really, don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Karly’s face fell.
“Aww, what happened babe? Actually, you know what, I’ll just shut-up and we can watch some Mean Girls and veg out.”
I smiled gratefully as she threw her arms around me.
“Don’t you worry about a damn thing, Brooke. I’m here for ya.”
An hour later, Karly was as good as her word. As we watched our favorite girl’s night flick, we chatted casually about the how young Lindsay Lohan had been, the newest latté at Starbucks, and the latest guy Karly was dati
ng—a surprisingly fun banker.
All too soon, however, the movie’s credits were rolling, and Karly was glancing at me pointedly.
“So, do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” I admitted with another sigh, “But I probably should.”
An eager look came over Karly’s face, as she swept her blonde side bangs out of her blue eyes and sat up straighter on the couch.
“I’m all ears.”
So, I told her. I told her about having sex with Mark and how mind-blowingly good it had been. She was “so not surprised.” I told her about my intense talk with Jake, and about how tense it was at work now. And, once it was done, Karly took a minute to think. Then, she turned to me and said what I’d secretly been hoping she’d say.
“Sounds like there’s no way around it—you’ll have to sleep with Jake, too.”
“Are you sure, though?” I asked, “What if it just makes things worse—makes him resent me?”
Karly twirled a blonde lock in her hand.
“Brooke, hon, I’m sorry to be the one to say this. But at this point, it sounds like things can’t get much worse. I mean, you said the hot docs are already at each other’s throats. What do you really have to lose?”
“Nothing much,” I said, “only my job.”
Karly lightly whacked me.
“Oh shut up. You won’t lose your job. Those men sound like they’re crazy about you.”
“Seriously though, Karly. I feel like I’m really messing up here. I can’t keep on working if the atmosphere stays as tense as it was today—even if they do want me to stay.”
Karly nodded seriously.
“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to tell you. It seems like either way, things don’t look good. So, you might as well see where things lead with Jake.”
I smiled gratefully at Karly. She was my best friend, but her uncanny ability to voice my thoughts still surprised me.
“Should I text him now?” I asked her, “We were supposed to meet up for dinner sometime, but I don’t know if it’s still on.”
“Yes, let’s!” Karly agreed.
I sent Jake a message.
“Still up for dinner tomorrow?”
Karly and I waited with bated breath for a minute, before we burrowed the phone in the couch and got some more Lays. Once we were back with a full bowl, I caved and checked the phone anyway.
“Definitely, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
It wasn’t much of a response from Jake, but it was enough to send me skipping around the room with glee.
“You like him. You li-i-ike him,” Karly chanted.
As I skipped, I tried to imagine how tomorrow night would go. Jake in a nice dapper shirt, me in my green bandage dress, steak and drinks, and then… Mark popped into my head, and immediately I flopped back onto the couch.
“What’s the matter?” Karly asked.
“I think I might like Mark, too,” I said.
She sat beside me.
“Don’t say that. I mean, you’re in a weird place because you had sex with the guy, and it had been a long time. How about you wait and see how you feel when you’re with Jake?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”
Later that night, Karly told me more about the fun banker, how good he was at oral, how much fun they’d had going to the fall fair. She’d laughed about how—after only a month—he’d been hinting at them being exclusive. But I knew Karly too well for that. I could see the way her rosy face was lit up that she had a crazy-big crush on him. That was just her way of doing things, playing it off like he was some guy, until he’d done enough that she could trust him.
Seeing her like that, so excited and happy, made my heart ache. I wished I felt like that—with things so simple as having a crush on some guy and hoping he had it back. Compared to her, my issue seemed ridiculous, and insurmountable. Having a crush on two guys wasn’t unheard of. The solution was pretty obvious—choose one. But this felt different than just some stupid passing crush. I actually got physically excited whenever I was near to Mark and Jake. My night with Mark had proved that we were as incredibly suited sexually as we were mentally. And Jake? If my gut was right, I was pretty sure I’d find the same thing with him.
That night, Karly slept over, and by 1 a.m., we were both all talked-out and pretty pooped. So, we changed into our PJs—though Karly made fun of my happy frog ones. After that we turned out the lights, and went to bed. Seconds after her head hit the pillow beside me, Karly was out like a light. I, however, tossed and turned with a realization that I couldn’t quite shake. There was no way around it, and no choosing either. I liked Jake—and I liked Mark, too.
Chapter 13
Jake
Only ten more hours.
I shot Brooke a smile. If she knew I was actually counting down the hours to our date, she’d probably think I was crazy. And maybe I was a little. Whenever I had the chance, as the morning dragged on, I was determined to sneak a look at her and share a smile. I could barely take my eyes off her. She had her hair in twin braids today, and she’d never looked cuter.
Earlier, when we were making our way to the operating suite, I stopped her.
“Your braids look really good.”
Blushing, Brooke asked, “You think so?”
“Yeah, I—” I trailed off as Mark appeared at the end of the hallway.
“We’ll talk later,” I said, frowning.
I’d been about to tell her that she should wear them tonight, but clearly, now was not the time. I felt weird enough about going to dinner with Brooke as it was, there was no point in rubbing it into Mark’s face.
Later that day, while Mark dealt with an irate potential client on the phone, I pulled Brooke aside.
I took her braid and twirled it in my hand, then gave it a playful tug.
“I was going to say that you should wear braids tonight. If we’re still on, that is.”
“Definitely,” Brooke said, with a broad smile, “I’m really excited!”
The way her sweet face was brimming with poorly-disguised delight, “excitement” seemed too weak of a word. I took her hand and squeezed it.
“I’ll pick you up, okay? Text me your address. Does 7:00 p.m. work?”
She grinned, and I released her hand just in time—right as Mark walked by.
It seemed like the hours dragged by the rest of the day; seven hours, six hours, then five. When it was finally time to go, I briefly considered telling Brooke to skip me picking her up, I could just drive her to her place and wait while she changed. But then I remembered that she drove here too, not to mention the fact that Mark was lingering around awkwardly.
“Goodbye Brooke,” I said, as I left.
“Goodbye,” she said, with a wink.
Then there were three hours until I picked her up, two hours, one hour… and finally, it was time.
I’d put on my best navy dress shirt and black pants, along with one spray of cologne. I didn’t know why I figured Brooke would like it, she seemed down-to-earth, and not one to appreciate cologne or even wear perfume. I’d just had a feeling.
When Brooke entered my Lamborghini, it took me a minute to find any words to say to her. She looked, literally, like sex on legs—not to mention regal and sexy as well. Her green dress was the same color as her eyes. It was skin-tight and showed off her perfect curvy body. Then, her shapely legs with those platform heels, those pink pouty lips of hers—damn. And, the best part of it all, she’d done as I asked, and kept the braids.
“Damn, you look—damn,” I said, my gaze lingering on her lips.
Brooke giggled.
“You look super-hot yourself,” she purred in my ear.
My cock perked up at that, and I took a deep breath. It was going to be a long night.
Luckily, I’d gotten us a reservation at Princessa’s—the place was packed. When I gave the maître d my name, he led us through into the restaurant.
“Right this way, mon
sieur and Madame.”
His gaze lingered on Brooke’s cleavage for a second too long. Jealousy spiked through me, but Brooke’s ecstatic smile calmed me down.
“This is gorgeous!” she declared in a hushed voice.
And really, she was right. I’d heard about Princessa’s lantern-lit balconies, but seeing them was something else entirely. The stone-floored balconies had wrought-iron fences that allowed guests a stunning view of LA’s Chamberview Park, while the tables and chairs were stunning works of wrought-iron art themselves.
Our maître d sat us at a secluded table near the edge of the restaurant, as I’d requested.
After another too-long look at Brooke I didn’t much like, he left to get us the wine we’d requested.
Brooke’s face in the light of the lantern was absolutely breath-taking.
“Jake,” she said in quiet voice, “This is, without a doubt, the nicest restaurant I’ve ever been to. I don’t know how to thank you.”
I took her hand in mine, squeezed it.
“Just you being here is enough, really.”
She smiled softly, then her face fell.
“The way things have been at work lately, and you not joining for lunch, I was a little afraid that—”
I held up a hand.
“Let’s not talk about that—about work. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with you.”
She smiled.
“That sounds good to me.”
Just then, the maître d returned with our wine, and it was time to order. Brooke admitted she had no idea what she wanted, so I ordered for both of us.
I took a sip of wine.
“Actually,” I said, “There is something I want to get out of the way first.”
A nervous expression took over Brooke’s face.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s about Mark,” I said, “I know you say that when you guys—you know—that it was just for fun. And I don’t doubt that you’re as strong and independent as you seem to be. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, if you do decide to pursue things with him. Mark is basically a playboy and has been as long as I’ve known him. I’ve lost track of how many girls thought they could change him, and how many hearts he’s broken by now. He really doesn’t mean to and he’s not a bad guy at all. Mark just wants a bit of fun, but every time it ends up the same way. I think it might be because of his past, Mark had pretty fucked up parents. But whatever the reason, he’s never had a serious girlfriend last more than two months. It would kill me to see a nice woman like you get hurt, too, so—I felt like I had to say something. I apologize if I’m overstepping the mark—no pun intended.”