Millie
The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of trauma, fear, complex emotions and more pleasurable activities. By the time the afternoon had rolled around, I could barely keep my eyes open and I needed a nap.
Good as his word, Ethan had driven me over to my apartment to gather some of my belongings. Somehow, Flint had wormed his way into “helping” us collect my supplies because he drove a pick-up truck with a large bed in the back.
If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought the man had orchestrated that just to horn in on my time with Ethan. The brash ware clearly derived some kind of sick pleasure by inserting himself between the two of us as often as possible.
After we filled Flint’s truck bed with my stuff, I took a good look around the place to see if there was anything I’d missed and would need in the near future. Ethan didn’t say anything, just let me do what I had to get my mind right as I walked from room to room, checking closets and cabinets for last minute additions.
“If you forgot anything, I’ll have Flint come back and pick it up for you,” he assured me then, picking up on my mounting anxiety.
Letting the tension bleed out of my body, my shoulders sagged as I finally decided I had everything I wanted for now. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
Taking me by the hand, Ethan walked me out of my apartment back to the truck where Flint was loading my last trash bag full of clothes. It might not be designer luggage, but it got the job done in a pinch.
Trotting over to our car, Flint checked, “Is that it?”
“Yeah, we’ll meet you back at the house,” Ethan responded as he opened the passenger side door for me.
Rubbing his perfectly flat belly, Flint posed, “Is anyone hungry? I feel like I could eat a horse.”
I was surprised to realize I was hungry, even though I’d just eaten a pretty large breakfast a few hours ago.
“I’m game,” I admitted, thinking a burger sounded heavenly right now. “There’s a diner down the road that makes the best sandwiches and burgers, if anyone is interested.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” Flint readily agreed, glancing over at Ethan. “How about you, big guy?”
Ethan didn’t look like he much appreciated the nickname Flint had just bestowed upon him. “I could eat.”
“Alright. What’s the name of this place?” Flint asked, digging into his pocket for his phone to presumably find the restaurant directions.
“Miss Maples,” I said. “It’s a few miles down the road. You can’t miss it.”
Ten minutes later, we were sliding into a booth at my favorite hometown diner. When Flint moved to sit beside me, Ethan growled and the younger man gave a rascally grin.
“Oh, did you want to sit next to Millie? Sorry, man. My bad,” he ribbed.
Taking the opposite side of the booth, Flint passed out the menus as Ethan settled snugly beside me. Both men flipped through the pages of the diner’s offerings, but I didn’t have to. Though all the food here was great, I knew exactly what I was getting. A cheeseburger, rare, with bacon and jalapeno cheese and a mountain of double fried cheese fries to the side. The heart attack special. I’d fantasized about it the entire ride over. I was already salivating at the thought of the spicy, fat-laden meal as I tried to wait patiently while the men perused their options.
“What’s your order of choice?” Flint asked conversationally, as he continued to read the menu’s many offerings. When I told him, his face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. “That sounds fucking awesome! I’m ordering it too.”
“What are you thinking of getting?” I asked Ethan, who was studying the menu like it had the answers to his upcoming chemistry final printed on it.
“Not sure yet,” he replied, his brow furrowing as he considered the vast array of options.
The young waitress, eyeing us from the corner of the room, or more aptly put, eyeing Flint from the corner of the room, came trotting over to take our orders. It was clear from the way she fixed her hair, and straightened her uniform, that she wanted to look her best for the man sitting opposite me. I couldn’t blame her. Flint was undeniably hot. From his buff body and his cocksure attitude, to that sexy green stare, there was no denying it: he was grade-A fantasy fodder for sure.
“Good afternoon,” the young blond excitedly greeted us, her blue eyes darting around the table, and pausing on both my male companions like she was trying to work out the dynamics of our relationship. “How is everyone today? Doyou know what you want to order, or do you need more time with the menu?”
Flint, the ultimate predator, immediately zoned in on the pretty blond, doubtlessly picking up on every one of her aroused tells. From the way she blushed, right down to how she was clenching her thighs together as she drank in his tall, muscular physique. I’m not sure he was as into her as she was him, but it was clear he liked the attention.
“This is my first time here, Cindy,” Flint said, after glancing at the name tag situated right above her large breasts. “Do you have any recommendations for something I might like?”
Even though the statement was one that could have been uttered a hundred times a day by as many patrons, the way Flint had said it, you’d think he’d just propositioned the woman to lay flat on the table and let him do unspeakable things to her naked body.
Nervously giggling, the pretty young girl tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear to alleviate some of the built-up tension coursing through her. “I don’t know. What do you like?”
Again, not a particularly dirty question, but to a guy like Flint, it was down-right filthy.
