Grease Monkey [Drunk Monkeys 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 10

  “Did you bring the piñata?” she snarked.

  “Let’s get in and get out,” he grumbled.

  They found the entrance to the place, which wasn’t much. A plain metal door with a viewfinder in it and a swipe pad that had been smashed. Likely by the concrete brick lying on the ground under it.

  She knocked.

  “What the fuck?” Roscoe asked, pulling her hand from the door.

  “You got a better way?”

  She was surprised to hear the door unlock and open. A man with terror painted across his face opened the door. “You with the National Guard?” he asked. “We’ve got eight of us left to evacuate.”

  Dolce’s heart pounded. “Sarah, Colleen, and Desiree. They in there with you?”

  He shook his head. “They went to the Glendale facility a couple of days ago with a work detail. They haven’t been back since. None of them have.”

  Aaaanndd her hopes crashed and burned in a flaming mass of despair. “We’re not with the National Guard,” she said “I’m their roommate.”

  “Please, can you get us out of here?” The man sounded as desperate as he looked. “We don’t have any food or working vehicles.”

  For this she had to defer to the men.

  “Right there’s close enough for a moment,” Roscoe said, taking charge. “What happened?”

  The man, who was the facility manager, said they got overrun by a mob not long after the work crews left for Glendale a couple of days earlier. Problem was, a lot of people weren’t in yet, or were still out in the yard, either coming into work, some in private vehicles, or getting ready to leave in work trucks and vans.

  The mob stole or destroyed many vehicles there, and laid waste to the exterior junction boxes and POP points, while the other CTSC employees locked themselves inside the building.

  Without any windows or other doors into the concrete block facility, the mob of about two hundred people left within an hour or so of wreaking their carnage.

  But the people inside had been terrified, their only view of the outside world through the tiny viewfinder in the door, or video feeds they pulled in via sat-link while their emergency gennys were still running.

  Apparently Roscoe wasn’t as big of a flaming douchecanoe as she’d first pegged him. He curtly nodded. “We’re moving. Right now. Get the rest of your people. We’ll take you out of Downey and drop you off in a safer area, and that’s as good as we can do.”

  The man turned and yelled to others in the building. Dolce and the other two men scrambled back as she heard what sounded like a herd of thundering footsteps running their way, unseen, down the hall inside.

  But it turned out to be only eight of them in total, as he’d said. Some of them wore surgical masks and some of them didn’t.

  Dolce reached up and made sure her mask was in place. “Stick tests,” she said as Roscoe backed away from the doorway so the people could emerge. All of them blinked in the diffused sunlight like they hadn’t been outside in a couple of days. Which, of course, they hadn’t.

  Roscoe dug into a pocket on his cargo pants and pulled out a small travel box of strips and tossed it to the man. “Do yourself first, then the others.” He kept the muzzle of his rifle pointed down at the ground, but in the man’s general direction.

  Somewhere on the other side of the building, they heard a loud bang, like metal on metal.

  Definitely not a normal sound.

  With trembling fingers, the man stuck himself.

  Dolce only realized she’d been holding her breath until after he tested clear. They all did, and five minutes later, they were loaded in the beds of the trucks as both vehicles sped from the area.

  “Where are we taking them?” she asked the men.

  “Somewhere away from here and nowhere near our place,” Roscoe grumbled.

  “Don’t tell me you’re resenting rescuing a few half-starved people?”

  “No, I resent this whole farking Kite virus and being shuffled around like a goddamned monkey in a circus instead of doing some good.”

  “I think you did some good by getting those people out of there.”

  “Hopefully it won’t bite us in the ass.”

  “Hey, I saved your ass, you saved my ass, we saved their asses. And the Karmic wheel spins round and round. I’m sure they appreciate it.”

  “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” he shot back. “Damn sure don’t need any busywork added to our load.”

  “Ain’t you just a swell guy.”

  Maybe if I keep talking long enough, it won’t start hurting to think that they weren’t there.

  She hoped.

  * * * *

  They drove the survivors to the far eastern side of La Habra, where life seemed tense, but relatively normal-ish, at least. When they left them, the eight men and women were heading for a small corner market that was still open and appeared to have food.

  “Wait, should we get supplies?” Dolce asked. “That store’s open.”

  “Supplies we got,” Roscoe assured her. “Time we don’t.”

  Dusk was settling uncomfortably across the city when they returned to the safe house and underwent another round of stick tests. Then they went to the common room and filled Papa in about their success. Dr. Perkins was happy to have her data back, and immediately disappeared into Q and Sin’s room with them to share it with them on her laptop.

  “You’re welcome,” Roscoe called out to the closing door.

  “Dude, tone back the Brooklyn a little, okay?” Dolce said. “You’re coming off as a ginormous dick.” She’d seen plenty of his type before in the military. They were hot, hard bodies, even hotter tempers, and they thought they were god’s gift to the estrogen-enabled.

  “That’s because he can be a dick,” a red-haired woman said as she walked into the room. “A big, walking scrotum topped by a raging head.”

  “Fuck you, Pandora,” he said.

  Niner put out an arm. “Whoa, dude. Chill the fuck out.”

  “We just risked our asses for this woman we don’t even know, to find her friends, okay? We didn’t have to bring her or her friend back here. We didn’t have to go looking for them. And what do we get? Do we get a thank-you? No.”

  “Okay, fair enough,” Dolce said. “Thank you for allowing me to save your goddamned asses in the parking lot and bringing us both back here. And thank you for trying to find my friends. I do appreciate it. And I’m sorry you’re a ginormous walking penis.”

  Pandora snorted in laughter as she headed into the kitchen. “I’m staying out of this one. But it sounds really good.”

  * * * *

  Niner didn’t know what the hell was going on with Roscoe, but he was about to take his partner outside and bust his fucking ass over it.

  He was being rude, even by Roscoe standards, which could come off as pretty rude to start with.

  And Niner really didn’t want to piss this woman off. She was hot, she had skills, and maybe they might have a little farking luck for a change.

  No, that didn’t guarantee they’d end up with her like the other three triads.

  But dammit, he wanted a farking shot, at least. And Roscoe was shooting them in the balls.

  * * * *

  Roscoe didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He seemed unable, despite his best efforts, to do anything but trade increasingly sharp and loud barbs with the woman.

  And it was making him hot.

  Like he wanted to back her up against a wall, rip off her panties, and fuck her until his cock screamed for mercy kind of hot.

  If he couldn’t figure out how to salvage this and turn it around into ragey, makeup-slash-hello-nice-to-meet-you sex, he was going to beat his own brains in. He already saw, from the look on Niner’s face, that his partner was about ready to do the job for him.

  Dammit.

  “That the best you got, girl?” Roscoe stepped forward, motioning at Dolce, daring her to get in his face.

  To his shock and surprise, she did
just that. “Dude, you cannot handle me at my best. I’d have to tone it down for you or your farking brain would melt.”

  Pandora leaned over the counter of the pass-through window from the kitchen. “Wow. Dude, she just handed you your balls. How does that feel?”

  Niner threw his arms in the air. “I give the fark up. I’m apparently never getting laid again as long as you’re my partner. I’m going to our room.”

  Shit.

  Maybe there is something wrong with me. “I can handle you and more, girl,” Roscoe finally said to Dolce, for lack of a better comeback.

  She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, right.”

  He had to walk around her to head to their room. “Put your money where your mouth is.” Oh, shut the fark up, dude!

  He followed Niner to their room.

  I am never getting laid again in my life.

  Ever.

  He slammed the door shut behind him.

  Niner wheeled around. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he screamed at Roscoe.

  “I don’t know! I’m sorry.”

  * * * *

  Both Roscoe and Niner were pretty damn hot. Hell, all the guys in the unit looked hot.

  Pandora emerged from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand, and walked over to Dolce. “Let me spin you a tale,” she said to Dolce. “These guys are split into ten teams of two. So far, three of us women have been sucked in by their charms. Other guys,” she quickly expounded. “Not Niner and Roscoe. I’ve got Tango and Doc. I was the first female Drunk Monkey. You want those two bozos, if you’re remotely interested in them, then go after them. Roscoe seems to suffer from chronic foot-in-mouth disease, but he has a good heart.”

  “Wait, what?”

  Pandora smiled. “Oooh, yeah. Let me tell you what. You ain’t had lovin’ until you’ve done the funky monkey with a team of these guys.”

  “Both of them? Two guys?”

  “You got a boyfriend or husband?”

  Dolce stared down the hall as she shook her head.

  Pandora leaned in. “I don’t know about you, but that looked like a confused guy who needs a woman to rein in him. Can’t hurt to try right? No one’s saying you got to marry them, or even like them. But why be lonely? Life is pretty damn short and getting shorter every day. Especially now.”

  Dolce thought about the two men, their hot bodies.

  How long it’d been since she’d gotten laid.

  How they might not have much longer on this planet.

  You only live once, right?

  She stared.

  Fuck it.

  Before she realized what she was doing, Dolce found herself storming down the hall after the men.

  She thought she heard Pandora mutter, “Atta girl,” in her wake.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dolce raced after the men, following them to their room. She walked in and slammed the door shut after her.

  “You are a pain in the farking ass!” she yelled at Roscoe.

  Niner crossed his arms over his chest. “Dude, apologize for being an ass.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be an ass,” he said. “It’s not my fault she’s too sensitive.”

  “Kiss my ass!” Dolce yelled at Roscoe.

  “Yeah? Well, maybe I do want to kiss your ass!” he yelled back. “And your lips. And any other part of your body that I think about kissing. So there!”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe I’d like that!” she shouted back.

  Niner leaned against the wall, one hand now covering his face as he shook his head. “Guys, if that’s foreplay, really?” He looked at them. “Can’t we come up with something, I don’t know…a little more romantic and a little less shouty?”

  She just realized what she and Roscoe had said to each other. Before she could think about it too long, he’d grabbed her and now he was kissing her.

  Pretty damn well, come to think of it.

  After a second of hesitation, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, pleasantly startled when she felt his cock harden in his trousers.

  Damn.

  The boy seemed to be well hung.

  Lucky me.

  “That’s more like it,” Niner said. He walked over and stood behind her, pressing her against Roscoe’s body.

  And damned if it didn’t feel like his well-hung cock was hard, too. She hoped that was his cock pressing against her ass.

  Because if it wasn’t his cock, she’d be disappointed.

  Damned disappointed.

  Fuck it. Life was short, she had a five-year, these guys were well-hung hunks, and she was going to grab happiness by the balls and hang on tight for as long as she could. She dropped her hands to Roscoe’s ass and dug her fingers in, pulling his hips against hers.

  Yep, that was his cock.

  Yep, she was going to be one really happy girl here shortly.

  Just not too shortly, she hoped.

  Wouldn’t that be a kicker, for him to be that well hung and a quick-draw?

  She shoved that thought away.

  Niner brushed her hair from the nape of her neck and kissed her there. Fiery jolts of pleasure shot straight down her spine and into her clit. “Roscoe,” he mumbled, “keep your fucking mouth shut until I tell you otherwise. You piss her off again in the next hour or so, I’m going to rip your cock off and shove it up your ass.”

  She broke free just long enough to clarify. “For speaking,” she said. “You can open your mouth for other things.”

  Roscoe grinned, fisted her hair in his hand, and crushed his lips onto hers again.

  Oh, baby.

  Well, hell, if he could replicate some of that on other parts of her body with his mouth, she didn’t care how fast he was with his cock. She’d make do.

  “You got things covered?” Niner murmured in her ear, “Or do I need to grab condoms?”

  Roscoe broke their kiss long enough to let her speak. “As long as you guys are clean, I’m covered.”

  “Excellent.” He grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, forcing her and Roscoe to let loose of each other long enough for him to yank it up and off over her head. Her sports bra followed. She was trying to kick her shoes off when she remembered she had her damn tactical boots on, not her sneakers. Niner started working on her belt and her jeans. He no sooner got those shoved down her hips than Roscoe sank to his knees and planted that obnoxious mouth of his right into her pussy.

  Her eyes fell closed as she grabbed his shoulders for support, a soft moan escaping her.

  “Oh, yes,” Niner said. “He makes up with enthusiasm for what he lacks in finesse.” From behind her, she felt Niner’s fingers probing between her legs, one working up into her pussy, which was now quickly growing wet from the way Roscoe was licking her clit.

  “Just keep doing that, partner,” Niner said to him. She heard him unfasten his belt and unzip. Then he was pushing her over a little more and she moaned in disappointment when his finger disappeared. Fortunately, it was quickly replaced by the thick knob of his cock.

  She gasped, in surprise and shock and more than just a little admiration.

  “Hang on, sweetie,” Niner grunted, “because this first one’s going to be hard and fast. You have no fucking idea how long it’s been.” He grabbed her hips and sank all the way into her cunt, stretching her and making her gasp again. This time in pleasure, because Roscoe had settled in for the duration and apparently wasn’t stopping.

  She turned a little and grabbed hold of what had been the teacher’s desk, now able to brace herself against that as the men moved with her.

  The first couple of strokes Niner took were slow and easy, to gauge her reaction and probably to make sure she was ready. But then he took off, a fast, furious, hard fuck that she didn’t know if she’d be able to catch up with or not.

  Until she did, thanks to the oral assist from Roscoe.

  The sensation exploded in her clit, sending off fireworks throughout her body, her orgasm maki
ng the walls of her pussy clamp down on Niner’s cock.

  “Oh, fuck yeah, baby. Roscoe, don’t you dare fucking stop making her come.”

  She didn’t care who heard her. It was the best goddamned feeling she’d felt in…well, ever. She wasn’t a virgin, and she masturbated when she felt like it and the opportunity arose. But this…

  This.

  Holy motherfarking universe, this was nothing like what she’d ever felt before.

  Ever.

  Eevvveeerrr.

  She let out a long, low cry of need and pleasure as Niner fucked her and Roscoe sucked her and for a few minutes in time, the universe was a damned happy place she was glad to be a living, breathing part of.

  Niner took a few last, hard, deep strokes before letting out a moaning cry of his own and falling still with his cock buried in her pussy. She stayed right where she was, holding on to the desk, Roscoe kneeling between her legs, his mouth still busy even as the biggest burst of pleasure had faded into rippling tingles throughout her body.

  Niner grabbed her and pulled her up against him, his arms around her, lips pressed against the side of her neck. “Got a news flash for you, sweetheart. Roscoe and I only share with each other, and we are very horny men. You got a problem with that, say so now. Otherwise, I’m going to work on the assumption that, for the foreseeable future, you’re ours. And I mark what’s mine.”

  “Mark?” she gasped.

  He chuckled. Then his teeth clamped down on the top of her right shoulder, just at the curve of her neck, and he started sucking, hard.

  Roscoe reached up and cupped her bare breasts in his hands without stopping what he was doing with his mouth. She let out a moan when he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples.

  “Mmhmm,” he mumbled against her clit.

  Niner let out something that almost sounded like a little growl. She knew all the men were skilled fighters, that was a given. But she never would have imagined the two cunning linguists were so…

  Fucking hawt.

  And the nip of Niner’s teeth, the way he was sucking on her skin, combined with what Roscoe was up to down below, set her off again. She cried out, trying to shift her hips away from Roscoe’s mouth, nearly overwhelmed by the sensation.