Authors: Kim Carmichael
Chapter Seven
"Come on, baby." Russell licked his lips and held his breath. He knew she could perform.
The room was completely silent except for the moan from his beloved.
"You can do it." He reached out and ran his hand down her side. "You can."
He waited. Any second now she would succumb, she had no choice, he had done everything in his power. "Please. I love you."
Right as the words left his mouth, she lit up and hummed her satisfaction.
He inhaled, spun around in his chair and held his hand out. "Pay up."
"You are a total asshole." Ken Donaldson shook his head and crumpled up a twenty-dollar bill, throwing it across Russell's desk.
Russell raised his eyebrows and focused on his other naysayer.
Tom Snyder glanced down at his lap. Without looking up, he tossed Russell his wallet. "He's the computer whisperer."
"Yes, silicon chips bow to my every command." He put his hands behind his head and rocked his chair back. "Do the tally."
Ken leaned up and pulled a tattered red miniature spiral notebook out of his back pocket. He flipped through the pages. "Looks like our boss has quite a run going on." He pulled his pen out of his shirt pocket, making his notation in the book.
"Stop calling me your boss." Russell fought a flinch every time they referred to his promotion. The three of them conducted their daily challenge since the summer after college when they began working in the computer configuration department of Managed Solutions. They all worked their way up, providing their customers complete turnkey computer systems. Two months ago, he broke out of the pack with a promotion to Solution Architect. Suddenly his friends were his employees. Still, certain traditions needed to be kept, especially when it came to resurrecting technology from the 1990's or putting something together out of discarded parts. Lauren got a kick out of what he would bring home. He patted the putty colored machine as it purred.
"What gives?" Tom pushed his hair out of his eyes. He stood and leaned over the desk to inspect the computer. "For the last week you have been on a roll. Are you getting laid or something?"
He froze. Was it that noticeable when a man had sex? Of course, they didn't know the type of sex. When Jason conjured his plan and promised Russell the best sex in his life, he wasn't kidding. The three of them together was incredible, yet he wondered what Ken and Tom would do if they knew that for the last six nights he slept in bed with his two best friends.
Yes, for the last week he went home, more like rushed home, and the three of them continued where they left off the night before. Every morning they woke, usually in his room, but once in Lauren's, and once in Jason's, and smiled that smile that only lovers share. Lovers?
Thankfully, the rumble of his cell phone vibrating against his desk jolted him out of his thoughts. As if on automatic, he picked up the square of glass and metal.
What up?
Jason sent the text to both him and Lauren.
No, Jason and him were not lovers.
The computer I just managed to fix. RS.
He tapped back and made sure to add his initials, a habit he started a long time ago.
LOL.
Lauren came in next.
Profit for the doctor I just left. Jase?
"Chicks like a dude in a suit." Ken came around to his side of the desk.
"Whatever." Russell forced himself to speak. Jason and him were not lovers. They were just lovers with the same woman at the same time. "At least I'm not wearing dirty khakis and a stained short sleeved white button down." Jason always made sure he didn't dress like a computer geek. No, Jason did not dress him and they were not lovers. His phone buzzed again.
I'll tell you what's up.
Jason piped in.
Okay. Jason was telling them both about his erection or erection potential, but the fact that it gave Russell some potential of his own did not make the two of them lovers.
I say we start our evening now. Let's repeat last night.
Jason continued to text.
Russell pushed his glasses up. Last night they started in Lauren's room and went for round two in his room. This morning his muscles ached as if he spent two hours working out. Lauren had to be sore. He fought a smile. The few yoga classes Lauren took paid off, she was exceptionally limber. Damn it, he was working. He couldn't leave to join them.
Them.
There was another red flag word. Not her. Them.
"Maybe women don't like to be called chicks and that's why you're dating your hand." Tom elbowed Russell and laughed. "What does your gal pal think of your new found fling?"
"Gal pal?" Russell slapped Ken's hand away from the computer and glanced at his phone again.
Russell is playing hard to get.
Lauren added a smile to her text.
He wanted to answer, preferably using the word hard. No, what he really wanted to do was take advantage of his promotion and leave early.
Tom twisted around to face him. "Yeah, Lauren. If she's lonely let me know."
Russell took a moment to process what his friend said. He didn't realize he grit his teeth together until that horrendous scratching sound reverberated through his skull. A month ago, a comment like Tom's would have had him giving a fake grin and telling his friend to go for it. However, now he had Lauren, and Tom wasn't touching her, or thinking about her. She was his. Well, not only his. He shared her with Jason. "She's fine." They were all fine.
"She's always done the boy toy." Ken's finger made its way toward the floppy disk drive. "It's always been the boy toy and the gal pal."
In an effort to stop himself from grabbing both Ken and Tom and slamming their heads together, Russell pounded his phone and typed the next message.
I'm not hard…yet. RS
. He would show his friends who was getting some. Though not one to kiss and tell, he was going to break his silence and tell them exactly who was doing the gal pal besides the boy toy.
RS is sexting.
Jason sent over a wink face.
Talk about getting hard.
Maybe Jason was getting hard over his "sexting" but his stomach tightened when he realized that if Ken and Tom weren't here, he would be as well.
I may not be getting hard, but I'm getting something else.
Lauren's text caused him to arch his back. He didn't have anything to prove to anything to anyone.
RS better not say he can't come cause he's having some contest. He's the boss, and we can have our own contest with a lot less silicon and a lot more hardware.
Russell swore Jason could read his thoughts. He pursed his lips trying to figure this out.
"Jason's not doing her." Tom took his turn to hit Ken's hand.
Russell stopped his texting or sexting or whatever to hear Tom's reasoning.
Ken crossed his arms. "It's so obvious."
"Then it's obvious you know nothing." Tom sat back down in his chair. "Jason isn't into Lauren."
Russell hit his head against the back of his chair and lifted his phone to read Lauren's response.
If RS leaves now, we will COME home at the same time.
Jason answered.
The two of you better be on the way. I'll get everything ready.
Russell swallowed. His male best friend was preparing them for a night of lovemaking. Even sicker was he already had dinner in the crockpot.
Screw this. As the boss he could go home if he wanted. Before he typed his response, the insane conversation continued.
"Expound on your theory." Ken pointed at Tom.
"The boy toy only plays with other boys." Tom nodded.
"Jason's gay!" Ken hit the desk. "I always thought he looked at me funny."
"What!" Russell shot up out of his chair causing it to roll back and hit the wall. "He is not gay." If anything he knew, he slept with the man.
"I think thou dost protest too much." Tom winked at him.
He opened his mouth, but his phone went off again.
Russ?
Lauren texted.
"Dude, hey. I was just joking." Tom held his hand out. "Even if Jason is gay it doesn't make you gay. You're getting laid."
Yes, he was getting laid. Laid with his two best friends, one who happened to be a man. What did that mean? More than that, what did the three of them mean? Once again the phone vibrated.
I think I need to finish some calls.
Lauren let him off the hook.
Russ needs to work.
He didn't need to be in the same room as Lauren to know she had her lower lip pursed out even if she was trying to smile. All he wanted to do was go to them. Both of them.
Russ needs something else.
Jason prodded.
He nodded. Yes, he needed something else, but he wasn't sure what. This wasn't as easy as bringing his ancient components to life.
I'll be home in twenty-five. RS
***
Jason glared at his phone when Russell's ring tone chimed. His friend better not be on the way here. Actually, Russell shocked him by agreeing to throw down his tie and leave. He supposed it was testament to what great orgasms could accomplish.
He tossed his pencil aside, stepping back from his canvas to assess his work. The creative juices were literally and figuratively flowing ever since little Laurie crawled through his trio tunnel. His two best friends and sex combined better than oil on canvas, or should he say were stunning in oil on canvas.
The only problem was, this wasn't supposed to be what he was creating. Not technically.
He didn't have enough art for a show, and his agent continued to try to get him to do contract work. Art for hire.
Yes, he considered the projects, especially after his disastrous exhibit. Of course, for weeks he didn't even enter the studio. He couldn’t create a thing, not even a straight line.
Then one Sunday afternoon inspiration hit. Not that he didn't think of this before, but this Sunday possessed a different energy.
That Sunday they all hung around the house and decided to watch movies. He tried to paint, sketch, anything, but ended up in the family room with his two best friends. He noticed the three of them went out solo less and less. Lauren sat between them, her arms interlinked in both his and Russell's. An innocent gesture, probably one she made a million times over the years.
At Lauren's touch, he relaxed, put his feet up on the coffee table and almost reached down and grabbed her hand. It was natural, right, and he leaned up to find Russell staring down at her hand as well.
Since second grade they shared everything.
Well, almost everything.
Neither of them ever had a successful relationship, maybe because they didn't share.
The moment he cemented the idea in his head he went to the studio to draw.
His phone went off a second time jolting him out of his thoughts. He prepared himself for battle and read the text message.
You said you'd get everything ready
.
Home in ten open the wine. RS
Don't text and drive.
He typed back and shook his head. To this day, Russell felt the need to initial all his texts as if they were an official correspondence. He made one quick swipe with his pencil, covered up his latest masterpiece in waiting and dashed out of his studio. They decided to eat before the night's festivities.
Stop light. Turn off the crockpot. RS
K.
He hit send and went into the kitchen, pulling the crockpot plug out of the wall. Lauren only used the crockpot about two times a year when she got on some housewife kick. He didn't really understand the crockpot. No matter what one made, or the ingredients used, everything tasted exactly the same, but this was the first time Russell used the crockpot.
He lifted the lid and let the steam out trying to figure out if Russell knew some magic about crockpot cookery when his phone went off again.
Put the lid back on. RS
He slammed the lid down, almost dropping it as to not to get caught by the crockpot police and backed up toward the cupboard to get the wine. How did Russell know these things? More importantly why did Russell use the crockpot?
This morning he came out of the shower to find Russell playing happy homemaker dicing onions and cubing beef. Jason wanted to suggest they all go out tonight, they hadn't really left the house all together since they went to the art gallery. Both he and Russell made milk and condom runs, and every time Russell went he came back with some sort of ingredients to make dinner.
He got the corkscrew and pondered the week's menu thus far. Steak, spaghetti, chicken Marsala, breakfast for dinner, and tonight's crockpot extravaganza. Why did Russell use the crockpot? Dinner was way too planned.
Once more his phone needed attention.