Desk Job (London Menage Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: Desk Job (London Menage Book 2)
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“How do you figure?”

“Because you like us both.”

I couldn’t deny that.

“You and Andre have already hit it off and baby…” He brushed his lips over mine. “I just felt the chemistry between us. We’d be off the scale hot between the sheets. You know that as well as I do.”

“That might be so, but maybe I’ll choose just one of you.” I tilted my chin. “Maybe I’ll choose Andre.”

“That’s your prerogative and I can’t deny that wouldn’t hurt me, because it would.” He stroked the back of his fingers down my cheek. “But the simple fact is, you don’t have to choose, you can have us both.”

My heart raced. I was hearing what he was saying but I needed time to process it. “What about Andre?”

“He feels the same as me.”

I shook my head and stepped back. Did Andre really have the same plan in mind as Tristan?

He released me and dropped his hand to his sides. He’d drawn his eyebrows low, and the sullen expression had returned, but now it only enhanced his brooding good looks.

“I … I need to speak to Andre. For all I know, you could just be saying this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He appeared astounded by the suggestion. “What would I possibly have to gain from that?”

“I don’t know … I don’t know anything.” I turned. “I have to go.”

“Okay, but please, think about it. It’s not something we’ve done before.”

I paused and spun back to him. “And what does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You’re the first woman who’s caught both of our eyes, that we could both imagine being with.”

“I tick all the boxes, you mean.”

“If that’s your definition of perfect, then yes.” He tipped his head and gave me a crooked smile. “Think about it. That’s all we ask.”

“Like I said, I need to speak to Andre.”

“Of course. I’ll have him call you.” He pointed at my shoe. “Catch a cab home.”

Gingerly, I walked to my desk and scooped up my bag. The heel felt fine, though I was careful with it.

Tristan watched me as I pulled on my light jacket. He had his arms folded over his chest and his feet slightly parted. His eyes were dark, his mouth a straight line. I wondered what was going through his mind.

Had he expected me to strip naked, throw myself at him and say what a wonderful idea it was?

Wonderful idea?

My thoughts were like bullets rattling around a barrel. I wanted Andre. I wanted Tristan, too.

Maybe it
was
a wonderful idea.

I gritted my teeth and walked past him, praying his repair job on my heel wouldn’t fail me. Each step hurt a part of me inside. I didn’t want to walk away from Tristan. Everything about him called to me. I wanted him, desperately.

But Andre, too. I wanted Andre.

Confusion ruled and I breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped into the elevator and the doors closed.

Have two men? Two boyfriends? Two lovers? Could I? Would I?

I pulled out my phone and fired a text to Sian:

We need to talk

Within seconds she replied.

What’s up?

I stepped into the lobby, flying my fingers over the screen.

Pour a glass of wine, I’ll call in twenty. Double trouble!

She messaged straight back.

Tell me about it!

I smiled. Thank goodness for friends who could handle any kind of drama.

 

Lullabelle barely looked up when I arrived home, it seemed the last ray of sunlight from the west had become her best friend and she was sprawled on her cushion on the windowsill.

I kicked my shoes to one side, dashed to the fridge and poured a glass of sauvignon. My body felt weird, as if being tugged two ways, and the same thing was happening to my mind.

As I flopped onto the sofa, my mobile phone rang. Sian.

“Hey babe,” I said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, busy…” she paused. “But fine.”

“Sure?”

She laughed. “Yes, but enough of me. What the hell is going on?”

“Oh Sian, it’s so complicated. I’ve got the hots for two men.”

“Okay, so which one do you prefer?”

“I like them both. They’re both beyond handsome, in their own way, sweet, charming, passionate—”

“How do you know that last one?”

I hesitated. “I had a pretty amazing Saturday night with Andre.”

“Andre, okay. So he’s good in the sack. What’s the other one called?”

“My other … boss—”

“Boss! Bloody hell, you’re fucking your boss?”

“Er…”

“What? Speak to me.”

“Well I’ve fucked one, thinking about doing the other one pretty damn soon as well.”

There was a moment of silence. Sian and I had been friends forever. Stunning her into silence was a rarity.

A huge bellow of laughter came down the phone line. “Oh girl, go for it. Though I have to say one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Are they okay with you doing both of them?”

“That’s what’s thrown me. They are. Well, Tristan says that’s the case. Apparently they want a woman to share as they’re both so busy running the company they think that would be the best option.” I paused. “I can’t believe I’m thinking about it.”

“Why not?”

“Well it’s hardly normal.”

“Oh, sod normal. Normal is so yesterday.”

“You sound like you’ve thought about this…”

“I have.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“A lot.”

“With Coben’s friend, Edward?” I could hardly believe what I was starting to think.

“Yes, with Ed. But that’s a face-to-face conversation, a big glass of wine and a long afternoon without interruption.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“Good, if that’s how you feel then give it a go.”

“Give what a go?”

“Ménage a trois.”

“Ménage a bloody trois?” My mouth gaped so I filled it with wine. What the hell?

“Yes. Two hot blokes, into you. If you like them give it a go, Stella, what’s the worst that can happen?”

I stared out of the window at the pink and lilac streaks of sunset piercing the skyline. What
was
the worst that could happen?

Chapter Ten

 

I stretched out in bed, the cool cotton sheets heavenly on my legs. It was Saturday. No need to get up and rush about. Lazy day.

What did I have planned?

I sat bolt upright. Memories of the evening before rushed into my mind. I was having lunch with Andre. There was no way I couldn’t bring up my conversation with Tristan.

And damn that kiss!

I swept my fingers over my lips. Tristan would get a gold medal for kissing if it were an Olympic sport. It wasn’t solely his lips, it was the whole package. His urgent, no-nonsense way, the passion that was infused into the depths of his eyes. A shiver went up my spine at the thought of him naked, hard, getting ready to plunge into me.

I snaked my hand down my belly, sought out the folds of my pussy and pressed against my most sensitive spot. I flopped back onto the pillows.

Go for it, Sian had said.

Really? Have two lovers?

One thing was becoming clearer to me. I wanted to find out. I wanted to know what Tristan would be like in bed. Why shouldn’t I find out? There was no ring on my finger. Two men!

But would Andre really be fine with it, or had Tristan been spinning me a story to get into my knickers?

No, he wasn’t like that. It wasn’t the man he was. I knew already that he was a man of his word, a man of morals.

And it did make sense. What he’d said. Neither of them had time to date. Why shouldn’t they share a woman?

Me. I was the woman they wanted.

I pressed harder, awakening my clit.

Could I ever have imagined this?

Two sexy men. Two hot guys who wanted me satisfied…

“Oh God.” I shoved a couple of fingers into my pussy. I thought of Tristan and the way he’d kissed me the evening before with his hand sneaking up my leg, under my skirt. He’d tasted of everything I’d ever wanted and more. He was one sexy man who’d been hot for me.

Who was willing to share me.

I bucked my hips, building myself up to orgasm. Images of Tristan, his lips damp, his eyes heavy with lust, hovered before me. I could only imagine what his body was like beneath his clothes—hard, muscular, strong…

I moaned and drew up my knees, fucking myself with my fingers. My climax was there and I let it boil over and steal my breath. Bliss shot over my skin, up my spine and to my toes and fingers. My scalp tingled and bright lights flashed in front of my eyes. Within those bright lights was an image of Andre, next to him was Tristan.

Their names were on my lips as I blew out a breath and allowed my legs to flop open. My pussy was wet, and the scent of my arousal drifted up with the wafting of the sheet.

So how would it work if I said yes? Would they want me to date them on certain days of the week? Have days where I
belonged
to one or would it be interchangeable? Whoever was in town?

I rolled over, tugged my hand from between my legs and stared at my bedroom door that was ajar.

Lullabelle appeared, she stared at me for a moment, then ambled to the bed and jumped up.

“Hey, baby,” I said as she stroked her cheek against the top of my head. “What am I going to do?”

She responded with a meow then walked over the top of my pillow the way she often did.

I sighed. I was open-minded, sure, but was I this open-minded? Could I do what my two bosses were suggesting?

Eventually I got out of bed, showered, then made coffee. It was a cloudless day, the sky a pale blue and the sun a shimmering orb climbing upward.

Just before twelve, Andre called.

“Hey, babe, how are you?” he asked.

“I’m fine, you?” I slid my hand over the top of the unit in my living room, distractedly checking for dust. There was none.

“I’ll be better when I’ve seen you. It’s been a long week.”

“Yes.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I sighed. “We need to talk.”

“I know.”

“You do?” I paced to the window and stared out.

“Yes. I spoke to Tristan last night, when my plane landed.”

“I see.”

“Let’s meet, for lunch as planned. I don’t want to discuss this on the phone.”

“So what Tristan said was true?”

“Tristan is…”

“What?”

“My best friend. I trust him implicitly, with any part of my life.”

“And that includes me?”

“Yes.” He paused and I heard a siren coming down the line. He was outside somewhere. “Meet me, there’s a nice little French restaurant around the corner from you,
Madame Builles
, I’ve booked a table. Can you be there in an hour?”

I’d walked past the restaurant before but never been inside. I knew where it was. “Yes. That will be fine.”

“Good. I’ll look forward to it.”

I was quiet. Any suspicions that I’d had about Andre not knowing the plan of sharing me had flown out of the window. What Tristan had said was genuine. Hell, from the sound of it, they’d had a late night conversation about me when Andre had returned from Spain.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Andre asked yet again.

“It’s just … a lot to take in.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” He paused. “But we can make this work, Stella. I promise.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yes, you will. One hour, be there or I’ll come and find you.”

The line went dead.

I set my phone on the windowsill and stared at the street below. It bustled with people and cars. There was a sudden wail and a police van came into view. For a moment, the street scene appeared to hold its breath as the blue and white vehicle tore from one end to the other. It disappeared from view. Everything returned to normal and the siren faded as quickly as it had appeared.

There was only one thing for it. I’d have to get myself ready for lunch with Andre then go and talk this madness through with him.

Though I couldn’t deny the thought of seeing Andre, of spending time with him, was very appealing. I’d missed him all week—his smile, his easy laugh, the way he touched me—and being in his company would be a pleasant way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

I went into my bedroom and opened my wardrobe door wondering what to wear. I pulled out a cream dress that had a pattern of tiny black birds over it. It was quirky and had a lacy collar.

Tristan liked lace. I knew that about him. The way he’d stroked my stockings and groaned.

A flutter of excitement swarmed in my belly just remembering his kiss again, his caress…

I hung the dress back up—I wasn’t seeing Tristan, I was meeting Andre.

A pink blouse with short capped sleeves caught my attention. It would be pretty and summery with a pair of white Capri pants and silver heels. Andre would like it, I was sure.

I dressed and added a pair of pink studs to my ears to complete the look. After applying light makeup and sweeping my hair into a twist on the crown of my head, I was ready.

I filled Lullabelle’s food bowl, even though she was still sleeping on my bed, then headed out of my apartment.

It took me ten minutes to walk to
Madame Bouilles
but the weather was warm and the temperature of the breeze just right. I caught a couple of guys looking my way, one threw me a smile. I was grateful, his attention added a zap of confidence to my strut and I needed it, discussing my relationship with Tristan with Andre was going to take a lot of courage.

I spotted Andre as soon as I turned the corner of Bradley Street. He was outside the restaurant, standing beneath the small racing-green canopy and talking on his phone. He wore dark jeans and a navy polo.

He must have sensed me, or heard the clack of my heels, because he looked my way within seconds and tucked his phone away.

“Hey,” he said, walking to meet me. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I halted in front of him.

He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I skipped breakfast.”

“That’s not good.”

“I know. But I’m sure I’ll make up for it.”

“Yes. Let’s get you fed.” He gestured to the restaurant.

When we reached it he held the door open.

I stepped inside.

A lilting French tune was playing and after the brightness of the street outside it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust.

“Sir, Madam, this way please.” A waitress smiled and directed us to a table set in an alcove. It had a padded bench big enough for several people and a burgundy tablecloth. Several candles were lit on tiny stone shelves on the back wall.

“This is nice,” I said, sitting down.

“Cozy.” Andre smiled and took the menu the waitress offered.

I also took a menu and scanned the light bites. “Did you have a good flight home?” I asked.

“Yes, not bad.” He set down his menu.

“And the hotel was okay?”

“Yes, fine.”

I glanced at him, caught his gaze for a moment, then went back to studying the menu. “And the meetings went well?”

“They did. Very. I told you that in my email.”

“Yes, you did.” I paused. “I think I’ll have Eggs Benedict.”

“Me too.”

“It reminds me of my grandmother, she used to make it for us on a Sunday. I often used to go to her house at weekends. She had a great big garden that backed onto the park. I made friends there with some other kids, they were a bit older than me but let me join in their adventures, one day—”

“Stella.” He reached for my hand and wrapped his fingers around mine.

I drew in a deep breath. “Yes?”

“Much as I want to hear all about your childhood, and I am in fact looking forward to hearing all about it, we need to discuss the elephant in the room.”

“The elephant?”

“Yes. We need to talk about Tristan.”

I swallowed. Memories of the kiss came flooding back to me. The emotions I’d felt. How I’d wanted to strip off, let him do dirty deeds to me, fuck me stupid… “Tristan.”

“Yes.”

“I … we…” I had to tell him. “We kissed. Well, he kissed me and I kissed him back. Nothing else … he … we…”

“It’s okay.” Andre reached up and pressed his palm to my cheek. “It’s okay. I know and he told me it was the most electrifying kiss of his life and if you hadn’t stopped things he’d have had you over the desk and made you scream his name until someone called the police.”

I widened my eyes. “He … he said that?”

Andre chuckled and dropped his hand. “You have no idea what effect you have on us, do you?”

Clearly I didn’t. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s not that complicated.”

“It is for me.” I shook my head.

“Tristan told me he’d explained our situation.”

“Well yes, but I didn’t know if he was speaking for you too. For all I knew, you and I were … were starting something and he was ruining it all.”

“Tristan wouldn’t do that. He loves me like a brother.”

I watched as the waitress poured us a glass of water then Andre gave our orders and requested a pot of coffee.

“I know you’re close.” I knotted my fingers on my lap. “But to…” I glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot. “But to share a girlfriend. How does that work? Won’t you be jealous? Won’t he be mad if we go out and he wanted to?”

“Firstly, I think if we’re all open and honest then it’s a good foundation. Second, we haven’t done this before, and I’m guessing neither have you—”

“Of course I haven’t.”

“So we have to take it one step at a time. The way I see it, if you’re attracted to both of us, and by the way we’re nuts about you, then as long as we keep you happy and give you the attention and adoration you deserve then it can’t go wrong.” He paused and set his hand over mine. “I don’t want to be away on meetings worrying about you being lonely or needing something. If Tristan and you are … well you know, together, then I don’t need to worry. I know he’ll look after you. It will work vice versa too, when Tristan is caught up in work, I’ll be there for you.”

“I don’t need babysitting.” I frowned. He was speaking like I couldn’t be left alone. I’d been an independent woman for years, I didn’t need a man, or in this case
men
, to be there constantly for me.

He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean, Stella. I’m talking about romance, company, fun, being there for each other when things don’t go so well.” He squeezed my hand. “And being there when you want a man in your bed.”

“And you really wouldn’t mind if I slept with Tristan?”

He shook his head. “I’ve thought a lot about this, we both have, and the truth is we don’t know one hundred percent, but it makes sense for it not to. I’m not saying we’d be happy about you having sex with anyone other than us, not in any way at all would we want that, but each other … that’s different.”

BOOK: Desk Job (London Menage Book 2)
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