Triple Threat_An MFMM Romance Read online

  14

  Marco

  The cool air assaults my face as I stick my head right into our massive fridge.

  Where is it?

  I know somewhere in this vast cool space are coconut milk, raspberries, and my soaked chia seeds. Obviously, either Antonio or Franco has moved my food to the back to make room for their shit. I can see all kind of other crap but not my breakfast food.

  With a sigh, I push various packets of sausage, cheese, and olives out of the way. How these guys live on this shit without suffering from heart failure is beyond me. I feel my arteries clog up just looking at it.

  Finally, I find my stuff.

  Time to make my super healthy, super powerful breakfast smoothie. Once all my ingredients are in the blender, I press the button and watch the different food groups swirl and whoosh around. As I watch the multiple ingredients mix together, I think back to last night.

  Fuck.

  That was one fucking amazing night.

  Sofia. Her name melts on my tongue like chocolate.

  Sofia.

  Where did she come from? And more importantly where was she going?

  After we all fucked her multiple times, we didn’t talk about her future at all.

  People are really strange and interesting. How did a gorgeous jewel like Sofia end up in the escort business? She seemed brighter than she let on.

  If you ask me, I think she’s some high power manageress. My guess would be a position of power, where even men quake in their boots. Not a ball breaker, but someone who knew how to put a man back in his place.

  The way her lips had felt around my cock.

  Mama mia.

  Just thinking about it makes my love rod stir to life.

  Sudden silence rouses me out of my reverie. My breakfast is waiting. I grab a tall glass and pour the thick, red-looking mixture into it.

  This better be fucking good for me because it tastes like crap. To wash it down, I’ll need a good cup of coffee. At least my brothers don’t fiddle with the beast.

  We each have the same machine in our offices. They’re called “the beast” since we think they’re like a temperamental woman.

  Silver and shiny, it sits proudly in prime position in the kitchen. It’s always filled with the best coffee beans available. Sure, at some point in time, we argued over which were the best beans, but by now, we’re over it.

  We’ve agreed on a brand.

  And everyone knows to obey the golden rule. The golden rule is to make sure you leave the beast with coffee beans in it. If you leave it empty, there’s severe punishment.

  A noise behind me interrupts my automatic movements. There’s no one.

  Was I so keen to see her again I was imagining her presence? Maybe.

  It’s been a long time I’ve felt this way about a woman.

  What the fuck am I talking about?

  I’ve got no feelings for her. I’m still on some kind of afterglow after last night. That’s all.

  Obviously, I’ve waited too long to fuck a chick. If I’d been fucking more regularly, I bet I wouldn’t be so hung up on her. There were those chicks at the racetrack, but I was called away.

  Mental note to self: Fuck more often.

  The thick black liquid fills my silver cup, and I’m looking forward to drinking my espresso. I like it bold and strong. A little like my women.

  Sofia—she was bold and strong. She’d been totally bold while fucking the three of us.

  We don’t often share, but then again, it’s not unusual. If the women were up to it, we probably would do it more often. Usually, the women can’t handle all of us.

  I close my eyes and savor the first sensation of my perfect cup of coffee. Taste buds dance with joy as the bold flavors assaults them. Bitter, with a hint of almond and sweet.

  Yep. This is the life.

  Like fast cars, a perfect cup of coffee goes a long way to making life pretty fucking perfect. On my second sip, I enter an entirely new world. I see amazing eyes and black hair, Sofia’s eyes and hair.

  They are boring into me, undressing me, challenging me.

  Boy. The flame ignites within me, and she’s not even in the room. Or is she?

  I spin on my heels and thought I caught a glimpse of something or someone moving.

  My imagination must be running away with me. With a sigh and dramatic hand gesture, I put the empty glass into the sink.

  There’s the small matter of these names I’ve got to show my brothers.

  I found them going through the system of the old man. Boy, there’s so much work in getting the shit together. Absent-mindedly, I shove the offending piece of paper out of the way.

  I don’t want it to fucking ruin my coffee.

  Now I’m sure I’ve heard a noise, and sure enough, I see her as I turn around.

  An angel is standing in the doorway. It’s a dark-haired angel in a tight, black skirt and crop top. Not much is left to the imagination.

  Her chest is heaving a little, as if she’s been running.

  Our eyes meet, and my heart melts as I watch those delicious lips turn upward at the corner into a smile. It seems as if her smile starts around her lips and goes all the way to her eyes.

  “Morning,” is all I manage to get out.

  I’m rarely a man lost for words. Quite the opposite really. I’ve got an opinion on everything—I always know what to say.

  “Morning,” she murmurs and takes a hesitant step into the inner sanctum of our mansion, the kitchen.

  Everyone knows how important the kitchen is in Italian families. Truth be told, often Franco, Antonio, and I have our most important business meetings in here as we go about preparing a feast and then eating it.

  “Breakfast?” I say.

  I hold my breath as I wait for her response.

  15

  Sofia

  Surprised at not finding a hired cook in the kitchen, I hover in the doorway just staring, processing what my eyes clearly see but what my brain refuses to accept.

  Marco is in the kitchen, making his own breakfast. He turns and smiles. Slowly, I walk toward him, and a warm glow in my chest lights my face with a real smile.

  I don’t mind showing him some warmth. All the better for the job, but inwardly, I push away those feelings aside. It was probably just the smell of coffee and the sight of food.

  I had a long night, and a few too many of those Bourbons.

  “How would you like it?” Marco gets out a cup for me and puts it next to some sugar and cream on the marble bench top.

  I lean forward as I take my place at the counter on a stool, showing off my breasts as I slide on to the seat.

  “As strong and bold as the men I fuck.”

  He grins, lights dancing in those chocolate eyes. They all have brown eyes, in a slightly different shade.

  Marco’s are like chocolate. Yeah, he’s a character all right. Knows how to laugh and fuck.

  In some ways, it’s a pity I will probably have to kill him, maybe not in the strict sense of the word, but at the very least I’ll be handing him over to the authorities.

  His fingers push buttons on a big silver machine, and before I know it I’m holding a steaming black cup in front of me.

  I take a sip and briefly close my eyes. “Holy shit. That’s great coffee.”

  “Isn’t it?” Marco turns around with a plate of fruit and wholegrain bread. “We get a special brand delivered straight to our house. Our motto is clear: Life’s too fucking short to drink crap coffee.”

  I laugh, and it’s real. I’m loosening up here. This is bad.

  Something about this is throwing me right off. A lot of my job depends on vibes, instincts, and my ability to stay one hundred percent detached. Marco isn’t giving off any bad vibes.

  He’s just a nice guy, enjoying himself. Unfortunately, I shouldn’t be enjoying myself.

  That’s probably what makes him such a great criminal.

  “You look like you workout, and I can tell by your cho
ices here, keeping in shape is pretty important.” I give him a suggestive eye once-over as I pop a strawberry into my mouth.

  “Yeah, it is.” He nods and continues, “Papa didn’t make it into his seventies. The good life, the long hours, well, he never took care of himself. Got fat, smoked and drank too much. Then it was too late to make the changes to the business he wanted to make.”

  Marco pauses. “I want to be enjoying my body, as long as I possibly can.”

  “It’s worth doing,” I murmur, letting my eyes trickle over him.

  He grins appreciatively but doesn’t blush. Not a shy guy.

  I want to ask about these business changes. It sounds exactly like what I’m here for. I also need an in—the whole point to this sex festival.

  I want a job. Something just doesn’t feel right about pushing the case at this exact moment, so I play it cool. Pretty much the first rule of the job.

  When in doubt, chill and wait for intel.

  We share a bit more food, and Marco offers to make another espresso.

  “Thanks. I shouldn’t have so much. It’s not good for the metabolism.”

  Ignoring my protests, it takes less than a minute for the silver machine to spit out another cup.

  “Oh, I think you can spoil yourself a bit today,” he says, grinning suggestively as he hands me the steaming cup. “I’m sure you need all the extra energy you can get after last night.”

  I smile and take a sip of the espresso.

  “It was certainly a vigorous evening,” I agree, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not raring to go any time you like.”

  Marco feigns shock, taking some bread and fruit from the plate.

  “So, what you’re telling me is, you’re insatiable.”

  “Well, I don’t disagree. Sex burns a ridiculous amount of calories you know.”

  “I will have to study this topic at length. It may take us a few months.”

  I burst out laughing, trying not to spill my coffee.

  “A few months at the least.” I wipe my eyes a little. “We will have to compile the data very carefully. Establish a baseline. Orgasms will burn more calories, obviously, so we should aim for those.”

  “Oh, certainly,” Marco agrees, “but what about the cum that gets eaten?”

  He says it so plainly, with an almost straight face I can’t stop myself giggling a bit more.

  “This experiment may be fatally flawed,” I say, reaching for a piece of bread.

  “Honestly, I have no fucking clue.” He shrugs. “You seem awfully smart for a call girl.”

  Marco is giving me a very steady eye contact right now, and I remember him looking into my eyes last night, his cock down my throat. He had been gentle, rocking slowly behind me as Antonio and Franco fucked me from separate directions.

  The look in his eyes is as intense now as it was then, and I must admit, something is disturbing me about this man. Right now, his gaze is penetrating. I mustn’t forget: These guys are smart.

  I expect to see evidence of crime everywhere. Drugs, weapons. I expect drug runners coming in and out.

  I also expect to get very heavy bad vibes off all my targets. Instead, I get fucked with consideration. The house is clean and free of any sign of crime, and Marco here is so into clean living it looks like he makes his own granola.

  I tell myself it’s just that well hidden. Still, I can’t help thinking of Marco’s consideration of me last night, Antonio’s sweet eyes that seemed somehow sad, and Franco gently eating me out.

  “I’m just street smart,” I say lightly, grinning at him.

  Luckily for me, his phone rings, and he wanders off to answer it. I listen to his voice moving towards the windows, and I stare into space, my eyes scanning but seeing nothing.

  There’s a few books and note pads—ah, the end of the kitchen bench. Everyone’s dumping ground. Generally, everyone scribbles notes in the kitchen and then leaves their notes in the ever-growing pile at the end of the bench.

  I slide my upper body towards the papers, thinking about reaching out to have a look when I hear a noise behind me.

  16

  Franco

  I’m standing in the hallway, admiring Sofia’s fucking ass. Even though I’m hungry, and the smell of coffee is so strong I feel like I’m being drawn into the room, I drag the anticipation out.

  Her ass is magnificent. So high and tight with those long slender legs that go on forever. I can be a bit of an ass man, and when it comes to ass like this, can you blame me?

  She took it every which way last night and never missed a beat. Too many times the woman-sharing thing has gone to hell. It was something we did more often as teenagers if we got a kind hooker of Dad’s to take pity on us.

  Back then, it was the three of us that collapsed, exhausted, halfway to the main event. Over the years, we tried a few women, but usually they just did not have the stamina.

  Sofia…She didn’t just take it. She took it to new heights.

  There’s an extremely explicit pleasure in fucking a woman who has a cock in every hole and yet still wants more. She made it real, special. Even when she was pressed between Marco and Antonio, with my cock down her throat, I had the distinct impression she was fucking us—not the other way around.

  The way she looked up at me, like she was devouring me, an open maw of slick hot heat. Just sitting there on the stool, it was like she was smoldering.

  I clear my throat a little, and she spins on the stool, looking startled.

  “I’m sorry,” I say and move over to the counter, “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

  “Oh, it’s okay,” she says, smiling, “I guess I just got too comfortable for a second. Forgot I wasn’t alone.”

  I laugh as I go for the beast. The day simply couldn’t start without a strong espresso.

  “I wouldn’t think that would be something you could forget, not after last night.”

  My fingers pressed the button, and I watch the perfect cup of coffee being made. The first taste of it is fucking magic.

  I look over as I sip my espresso. She’s wearing this gorgeous cheeky smile. Like something you might see on a Catholic school girl who’s wearing her skirt too short with pulled-up socks.

  It says, I’m naughty, and I’m nice.

  “I just didn’t hear you coming that’s all.” Her voice is light and innocent.

  I lean over the counter towards her.

  “It’s you I didn’t hear coming. You sure do keep it close until the end, don’t you?”

  Something about the smile is a bit hard now. The eyes calculating. Like she’s going beyond stripping me with her eyes, but seeing right inside my skin.

  Before I can think too hard about it, she tilts her head, grins and winks. Honestly, I think too fucking much. Even women of this caliber are not that complicated.

  She probably just remembered her clothes are ruined or something.

  “I like my noises to be completely genuine.” She looks me right in the eye as she speaks, voice low. “I don’t throw myself around screaming because it’s fake. Sex is deeply moving, it’s sacred, and I don’t want to sully it by faking anything. I scream when I need to. When I can’t do anything else.”

  My heart pounds a bit harder, and I think about fucking her right here on the kitchen counter. This is a woman so secure in her own sexuality she can do anything and not feel dirty or subjugated.

  She’s completely liberated.

  It’s a nice change from some of the hookers I have to work with. They only get more jaded by the day. I honestly can’t blame them, the paths they have had to walk.

  It makes me wonder though, what’s so different about Sofia?

  How can she handle it all with such grace when other women burn out?

  Marco’s off on the terrace on an early morning phone call. Mine will start up soon, I know. I’m running late, and I never finished all that fucking paperwork.

  I don’t intend to rush though. I’m enjoying breakfast too much, and
that’s the thing about work. It’s always going to be there.

  Opportunities to play with toys like this don’t come up every day.

  “I don’t often have such a good-looking breakfast companion,” I say and take a bit more fruit from the plate, leaning on the fridge as Sofia eats a piece of bread, slowly breaking it up into small pieces.

  She grins. “Your brothers are easily as good-looking as me.”

  I almost spit my coffee out trying not to laugh, “It’s all about your perception then, isn’t it?”

  She laughs easily. “Of course. Eye of the beholder and all that. I personally think the view here is magnificent. Both right now…and last night.”

  I can feel my cock rising as her eyes rake me over. She’s not just suggestive. Something about being near her is intoxicating.

  With most women, the exhilaration is in the chase. Once you get a cock in them, you find they’re all pretty much the same. This woman though…

  She’s something else.

  Few women can take three cocks at once and still beg for more. With every blink of her eyes and toss of her hair, I can feel the touch of her hands, like electricity surging through me.

  The hot, tight pussy that just keeps getting wetter. Soft large tits just begging to be nibbled.

  If I don’t stop this right now, we are going to wind up fucking on the counter.

  “So, what are your plans today, honey? All of us will be taking off in separate directions soon.”

  She looks uncertain and a bit put out. Surely, she didn’t think we were going to stay here fucking her all day?

  Looking into her disappointed face, it seemed she was thinking exactly that.

  “Oh, well… I guess I should get back on the job thing. I can try to find a ride into the city I guess.”

  I put my coffee on the counter.

  “Hold up, just hold that thought.” I check the time. “I might be able to help you out there. Give me a minute.”

  “What, with the job? Or the lift?”

  “Both!” I say, hurrying out to take care of a few things. “I’ll be back in a minute.”