This Snippet Saturday is from Grease Monkey (Drunk Monkeys 4, mfm) now available from Siren-BookStrand. Enjoy! 🙂
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.
“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.”
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.
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.”
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?
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.
[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Futuristic Sci-Fi Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA]
Riots? Plague? Armageddon? Child’s play for…the Drunk Monkeys.
Dolce Quinn is a former sniper and military mechanic trying to find and rescue her friends now that Los Angeles is coming apart at the seams. She teams up with a neighbor and formulates a plan to avoid the riots and Kite virus, but they still have to escape the city safely.
The Drunk Monkeys have a line on another doctor from The List. When Roscoe and Niner try to rescue the doctor, their plan almost goes to hell in the face of an oncoming mob until Dolce steps in and saves their bacon.
Banding together, the group takes in Dolce and her neighbor. When a devastating earthquake levels the region, they must evacuate. Just one little problem—they still have a military mole to take care of. And when you mix a grease monkey with a couple of Drunk Monkeys, there’s a whole lot of shakin’ going on.
A Siren Erotic Romance