Then it all became a little wild.
Everybody groped and panted and squirmed. While he thrust, buried in Sue, Marta rammed her pelvis against his ass. He had Sue’s tongue in his mouth. Later, he had her breast in his mouth while he held her high and she kissed Marta and then the breast popped out when he brought her down and then he rammed her down onto him and he plunged up high into her and she cried out and shuddered.
At some point, they fell. They landed on the carpet in front of the door, Neal still embedded in Sue, and Marta must’ve been on all fours behind him while he continued. She made him squirm and wiggle. He came so hard that he thought he might never be able to move again.
For a long time, they all lay sprawled on the floor.
The carpet felt scratchy under Neal. The room was nearly dark. A soft breeze blew in, stirring the curtains, drifting like fingertips over his hot, wet skin.
He was almost asleep when something brushed against his lips. He opened his eyes. In the murky light, he saw a breast looming down in front of his eyes. It was too large to be Sue’s. It swung slowly from side to side, its nipple grazing across his lips.
His penis, limp against his thigh, began to rise.
It rose into a moist, round hole with a tongue inside.
He sucked Marta’s nipple into his mouth.
At the other end of him, Sue sucked.
Neal couldn’t believe it.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked after a while.
‘We’re having our way with you,’ Marta said.
‘How’s it so far?’ Sue asked.
‘Not bad.’
Fifty-Three
When Neal woke up, the bedroom was dark. The curtain above him drifted up and wavered, letting in moonlight and a breeze. The breeze roamed over his skin. It was mildly cool, and felt wonderful.
Someone’s arm lay across his chest.
His head was elevated as if resting on a high, firm pillow. A hard knob pressed against the back of his neck. A hip bone?
Turning his head, he felt skin against the side of his face. Inches from his eyes was a tangle of moonlit, silvery hair. Beyond the hair was empty space, thighs on both sides. This close up, the thighs looked like huge, snow-covered slopes stretching off into the distance. But maybe darker than snow. Maybe sand dunes washed in moonlight.
They seemed to end at the knees.
That was where the mattress ended.
She was lying crosswise, her legs – knees to toes – hanging off the bed.
Fingers fiddled with Neal’s hair.
‘You awake?’ Marta’s voice, a familiar whisper.
‘Yeah.’
‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’
‘This is nice.’
‘Yeah.’
The arm across his chest glided downward. Its open hand patted him a few times, stroked his hip, caressed his belly, slid lower and squeezed him.
Neal looked down at his own body. The hand belonged to Sue.
She lay on her back beside him, a dim shape, darker than the white sheet. She looked as if she might still be asleep – motionless, feet apart, her left hand curled on her belly, her right arm angled out and resting on Neal.
But she had to be awake, or her hand wouldn’t be doing that to him.
He raised his head for a better look at her.
Sue’s face was just above Marta’s shoulder, the top of her head touching the left side of Marta’s face.
What if they were connected that way? Neal thought. Like Siamese twins, joined at the head.
The notion made him smile.
I wouldn’t have to worry about being one guy in love with two women – there’d only be one of her. One fabulous creature.
I’d need a name for it.
The Marta-Sue?
How about the Two-she?
He laughed.
The Two-she came apart, Sue turning her head to look at him and Marta lifting her head off the mattress. Sue’s hand released him.
She made a ‘Mmmm?’ sound.
‘Nothing,’ Neal whispered. ‘The way your heads were together like that, I thought for a second you might be a Two-she.’
Marta laughed.
‘A tushy?’ Sue asked.
Marta laughed harder.
‘A Two-she,’ Neal said. He lowered his head onto Marta. Her laughter made it bounce. Grinning, he gazed at the ceiling. ‘A tushy is something altogether different.’
At that, Sue cracked up.
They were both laughing like a couple of nuts.
Neal felt as if he had a trampoline under his head.
When the bouncing stopped, Marta took a deep breath and sighed. She said, ‘So what is a Two-she?’
Sue laughed some more.
‘A fabulous mythological creature,’ Neal explained. ‘Two gorgeous Greek goddesses, joined at the head.’
‘With two tushies,’ Sue said.
The bouncing resumed.
Afraid he might get a headache, Neal sat up. He turned around and knelt on the mattress. Marta and Sue, still laughing, stayed where they were, their heads together, their bodies stretched out at right angles to each other.
‘Two tushies, two pussies, two everything,’ Neal said.
‘Four titties,’ Sue corrected him.
‘This is certainly taking a turn for the vulgar,’ Marta commented.
‘Yeah, Sue, watch your language.’
‘You watch yers, fella!’
‘Children, children,’ Marta said.
Neal dived for Marta. Even before he got to her, she cried out, ‘No!’ and started to bring her knees up. Then she squealed as he shoved his wide open mouth against her belly and blew hard. Joining her squeal was a loud, fartlike blast.
‘Gross!’ Sue yelled. ‘Who cut one?’
Marta shoved Neal. His mouth broke away from her belly with a noisy, squelching suck. As he teetered on his knees, Sue attacked him from the side. He landed on his back, knees in the air, his head and shoulders hanging off the end of the mattress. Sue climbed onto him.
She seemed to be trying to say something, but she was laughing too hard to speak.
Neal wanted to warn her that he was slipping off the mattress.
He couldn’t talk, either.
She bounced on him.
The slipping continued.
‘Hey,’ he gasped.
‘Hey, hey!’ Sue bounced on him, her rump slapping his belly.
‘Hey!’ Marta blurted.
Neal’s feet flew up.
And were grabbed at the ankles by two hands. Grabbed and tugged. As he was jerked back from the rim of the mattress, Sue almost tumbled off him. He reached up fast and caught her around the waist. She stayed aboard.
Then they were both sprawled on their backs, gasping and laughing. Marta, the rescuer, knelt between them, down near their feet. She had her hands on her hips. She was shaking her head.
‘This is what happens,’ she said, ‘when people get carried away. You could’ve broken your necks.’
Sue reached out and slapped Neal’s chest. ‘Look at her, she’s already actin like a mother and she ain’t even had the baby yet.’
‘Mama Marta,’ Neal said.
Marta waded in on her knees and shoved Sue off the side of the bed. As Sue yelped and thudded, Marta turned to Neal.
‘Hey!’ he gasped. ‘I give! Spare me! I’m the father of your child!’
‘Tough tacos,’ she said. Kneeing and shoving him, she rolled Neal off the mattress.
He hit the floor.
He heard Sue gasping and laughing from the floor on the other side of the bed.
‘Now,’ Marta said from above, ‘everybody calm down before you get me evicted.’
‘We’ve got half a million dollars,’ Neal pointed out from the floor.
‘Smackeroonies,’ Sue added from her distant section of floor.
‘That’s no reason to get carried away,’ Marta explained.
‘Seems like a plenty fine reason to me
,’ Sue said.
‘Can we come back up?’ Neal asked. ‘It’s lonely down here. And the floor’s hard.’
‘Okay, but no more rough-housing.’
‘Rough-housing?’ Sue said.
‘You’re right, Sue,’ Neal called. ‘She’s turning into a mother before our very eyes.’
‘Eat me,’ said Marta.
They lay on the bed, side by side, Marta in the middle. It had taken a while to stop laughing and calm down. Though Neal was no longer breathless, his body still ran with sweat. The breeze from the window felt wonderful.
‘Ya know what?’ Sue asked from the other side of Marta.
‘What?’ Marta asked.
‘This is . . . it’s just the greatest.’
‘Yeah,’ Marta said.
‘Yeah,’ Neal said. ‘My God.’
‘I never had nobody like you two,’ Sue said. ‘Ya know? It’s . . . I love ya so much it hurts.’
‘Yeah,’ Marta said. ‘It hurts, but it sure feels good.’
‘And we won’t never split up,’ Sue said.
‘Not if I have anything to say about it,’ Marta whispered.
‘How ’bout you, Neal?’ Sue asked.
‘I’m the luckiest guy in the world,’ he said.
Marta squeezed his hand. ‘You damn bet you are. You were the luckiest guy when all you had was me. Now you’ve got both of us, a baby on the way, and half a million bucks.’
‘And Vince don’t.’
‘Doesn’t,’ Neal corrected.
‘All he’s got is the shaft,’ Marta said.
‘Reckon he’s the unluckiest guy in the world.’
‘Unless,’ Neal said, ‘he can come up with another half a million before two o’clock.’
‘How would he do that?’ Marta asked.
‘How did he get the first?’
‘We only stole it from him a few hours ago,’ Marta pointed out. ‘He hasn’t had time to replace it. The banks would’ve all been closed . . .’
‘Maybe he has a wealthy friend with a safe full of cash. Maybe he has a safe full of cash. Just because he didn’t think about it while I was in his head . . .’
‘I doubt it,’ Marta said. ‘I think we’ve got his money. And I think there’s gonna be a very pissed off Leslie Glitt when two o’clock rolls around.’
Sue sat up. Twisting sideways, she braced herself on a stiff arm and looked over her shoulder at the clock. ‘It’s twelve after twelve,’ she announced.
‘I don’t think Vince is planning to show up before one,’ Neal said.
‘If he shows up at all,’ Marta said. ‘Which I wouldn’t, if I were in his shoes.’
‘He’ll probably show up and drop off something,’ Neal said.
‘An apology?’ Marta asked.
‘Maybe an I.O.U.’
‘If I was ol’ Vince,’ Sue said, ‘I’d put a bomb in a sack and blow Glitt to smithereens.’
‘I’d love to see that,’ Neal said.
‘When we gonna go?’ Sue asked. Not waiting for an answer, she said, ‘We don’t wanta miss nothing. Maybe we oughta get goin right now.’
‘It’s still pretty early,’ Neal told her.
‘I’ll take my camcorder,’ Marta said. ‘At the very least, we oughta be able to get some video of Glitt showing up to look for his money. If we’re lucky, we might get both of them. That’d prove there was a conspiracy.’
‘Prove to who?’ Sue asked.
‘The cops. A jury.’
‘I’m the jury,’ Neal said.
‘Think you’re Mike Hammer?’ Marta asked.
‘Yeah. Except he used a .45, and all I’ve got is a measly .380.’
Marta rolled onto her side. She swung a leg across his thighs. Rubbing his chest, she squirmed closer. He felt the smoothness of her body against him, the tickle of her pubic hair, the weight and heat of a breast on top of his arm. She nibbled his shoulder. ‘Let me be your Velda?’ she whispered.
Sue gave Marta’s rump a smack.
Marta flinched. ‘Ow!’
‘Time’s a-wastin, gang. We gotta move it or lose it.’ The mattress wobbled as Sue scurried off the bed. Neal watched her rush across the moonlit room. She stopped at the doorway and reached out.
The sudden brightness hurt Neal’s eyes.
Marta groaned and pushed her face against his chest.
‘Let’s go!’ Sue called out, grinning.
‘We’ve got plenty of time,’ Neal said.
‘We ain’t the first ones there, no tellin what we might miss. C’mon, let’s move it!’ She clapped her hands. ‘Let’s go, let’s go! Time’s a-wastin!’
With another groan, Marta rolled off Neal and sprawled on her back. She flung an arm across her eyes to block out the light.
By the time Neal could force himself to sit up, Sue was gone. He swung his legs off the bed. Then sat there, head drooping.
‘I don’t wanta move,’ Marta muttered from behind him.
‘Me either.’
‘Why’s she so damn perky?’
‘Part of her charm,’ Neal muttered.
Sue came prancing into the room.
Neal raised his head. She was grinning, naked, and had clothes clutched to her chest: her own white pleated skirt and yellow knit pullover, Marta’s T-shirt, Neal’s shorts.
‘Here ya go, got yer duds for ya.’ She tossed the shorts at Neal. They almost hit him in the face. Just in time, he shot a hand up and caught them. ‘Get up, get ’em on, we gotta get outa here.’
‘Settle down,’ Marta muttered.
Sue threw the T-shirt at her.
Neal looked over his shoulder. Marta was on her back, propped up with her elbows. She regarded Sue with narrow eyes, but made no attempt to protect herself. The T-shirt opened up in midair and fell, dropping over her head, draping her entire face, covering one shoulder and one breast.
She let it stay.
The fabric showed the general shape of her face. Neal could see the curve of her brow, slight indentations over her eyes, the rise of her nose, the slopes of her cheeks. He could see where her lips were. Her mouth seemed to be closed and unsmiling.
‘Extremely amusing,’ she said, lips and chin moving the fabric.
Neal suddenly pictured her dead, face covered by a sheet.
He turned away, stood up and stepped into his shorts. As he pulled them up, he said, ‘We don’t all have to go. Why don’t you two stay here? I’ll drive down and take care of things.’
‘Yer kiddin,’ Sue said, fastening her skirt.
‘We’re not staying behind,’ Marta said.
The T-shirt no longer shrouded her face. She was sitting up in the middle of the bed, scowling at Neal, the shirt heaped in her lap.
‘All I’m going to do is park and watch what happens,’ he explained. ‘And I’ll use the camcorder. I’ll get everything on tape. And maybe I’ll use the bracelet on Glitt to see where he goes after he finds out he’s been stiffed. It won’t take three of us to . . .’
‘I wanta watch,’ Sue protested.
Seated cross-legged on the bed, Marta put her T-shirt on. When her head reappeared, she gazed at Neal and said, ‘I know what’s going on in that mind of yours.’
‘Probably,’ he admitted.
‘You’re afraid one of us’ll get hurt.’
‘That’s right, I am. You don’t know Glitt. He’s . . . the things he would do to you . . .’
‘So you think we’d be better off – safer from Glitt – if you go away in the middle of the night without us? Leaving us alone and unarmed?’
‘He doesn’t know where you are,’ Neal said.
‘How do you know?’
‘I don’t know for sure,’ he admitted, ‘but . . .’
‘Wasn’t Glitt planning to visit your apartment again tonight?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Over in your apartment, is my address written down anywhere?’
‘Yeah, but . . .’
‘And you still want to leave us here f
or a couple of hours, all by ourselves, without the gun?’
Neal grimaced at her.
‘If you go,’ Marta said, ‘we all go.’
‘Fair’s fair,’ Sue added.
‘Everything else aside,’ Marta said, ‘you might need us. If you do go on a bracelet trip, we should be in the car to keep an eye on your body.’
‘We’ll be yer bodyguards,’ Sue said. She stood by the bed in her white, pleated skirt, casually twirling her knit blouse by the side of her leg. Her hips shifted slightly from side to side. Her skirt swayed, its front brushing across her thighs.
She looked like a cheerleader who’d decided to go native.
And Neal suddenly knew that he didn’t want to go anywhere without her.
Without her or Marta.
‘We’ll make sure you’re safe and sound,’ Marta said, ‘while you’re riding Glitt to God-knows-where.’
‘Who’ll guard you?’ Neal asked.
‘Any sign of trouble,’ Marta said, ‘and we’ll drive off.’
‘Sides,’ Sue said, ‘we’ll have yer gun. It ain’t . . . isn’t a thing ya can take with ya on a bracelet trip.’
‘We’ll be fine in the car,’ Marta told him.
Neal glanced from Sue to Marta. They both had their eyebrows high, impish looks on their faces. They knew that they’d won.
He supposed they would always win.
Two against one.
The Two-she versus me.
Could be worse, he decided.
Just, please, God, don’t let anything happen to them.
Fifty-Four
Neal knew that he should’ve made them stay behind. But he was glad they were with him. It was very good to be in the back seat of the Jeep, both of them in front of him, close enough to touch, their hair blowing.
Marta drove. She and Sue sometimes turned their heads and said things that Neal couldn’t hear.
If anything happens to them . . .
He wondered if he was risking them, allowing them to come. Or would they have been in more danger left behind?
This way, he thought, at least we’re together. I’ll be here to protect them.
Which, he suspected, was more an excuse than a reason. The real reasons were probably more selfish than that: he wanted them to be with him. Partly because he was afraid, deep down, to go out by himself at this hour of night, on this sort of mission. But mostly because, at least for now, he felt as if parting with either of them would be too painful.