****
As the last few tea lights flickered and died, Hyacinthe decided it was time to speak, while they were all still relaxed from the sex.
“I’ve told you that I need you both, want you both, love you both. Now I think each of you should say how you feel about becoming a threesome.”
There was silence for a long time then Inigo sighed and said, “I guess I’ve always known I’d have to share you. It seems a little weird, a man sharing a woman. On TV it’s always the man who has a wife and a mistress or like Hefner, two women at a time or like in some cultures, a whole bunch of wives. But I understand your needs, honey, and I reckon I’ll cope better having to share you with Beverley than I would if I had to share you with another man.”
He leaned up on one elbow and looked across Hyacinthe’s body to Beverley. “I like you. You always do your share at work, never complain when you get the disgusting jobs, or act like a princess when it’s time to spread mulch or something. I’m prepared to do my part to make this arrangement work.”
Hyacinthe was impressed with him and dropped a light kiss on his mouth. She turned her head to Beverley. It was dark in the room now without the candles, but still possible to see reasonably well since her eyes had adapted to the darkness.
The silence lasted even longer this time then Cinthe sensed Bev taking a deep breath before she began to speak. “I want to be with Hyacinthe. I’ve never loved anyone as deeply as I love her. It’ll be hard for me. I don’t make friends as easily as you two do. I’ll do my share to make it work. But—likely you’ll need to be patient with me. It’s not going to be easy for me.”
“Well done, love.” Hyacinthe kissed Beverley. “We’ll all make it work.”
Chapter Two
Inigo counted the trays of seedling orchids for the third time. Yep, two trays had gone missing. How could that happen? It wasn’t as if they were small pots someone could forget they’d moved. These trays were four feet long and two feet wide and damn heavy to lift. He looked at the remaining trays. The two missing trays were the most developed plants. Had someone perhaps put the plants into pots already?
Inigo walked slowly around the greenhouse, checking all the tables, but everything was exactly where it should have been. There were no extra pots, no newly planted orchids anywhere. In fact… Hmm, hadn’t there been eight trays of Cobra Lilies? Now there were only seven. And the carnivorous lilies were another plant that was temperamental and difficult to grow. Had someone taken the pesky plants somewhere else to try a different temperature or watering program for them? But surely the boss would have told him. He’d spent endless hours working on those orchids. They were his babies.
Inigo left Greenhouse Four and walked along the winding path past Greenhouses Three and Two to Greenhouse One where Head of Horticulture James Jewel had his office. Delwynne was the only person working in the greenhouse when Inigo arrived, and she was intent on checking leaves for insect pests so he just nodded to her and kept walking.
As usual, James had his door propped open with the world’s ugliest concrete garden gnome. Inigo stood in the doorway and shuffled his boots on the concrete floor until James looked up.
“I just wanted to ask you about the orchids,” Inigo explained.
“Sure, sure, you’ve done well with them. Far more grew than the usual success rate. Any problem there?” asked James.
“Have you moved some of them?” asked Inigo.
“Say what?”
“There are only eight trays of orchids in Greenhouse Four. The two trays with the most developed plants aren’t there anymore. I wondered if you’d had them moved into a different greenhouse to be replanted into pots or something.”
“Hell no. They need to be in those warming trays for a while yet. Two missing you say?” James looked thoughtful.
“Yes. And I think a tray of lilies has disappeared, too.”
“The Cobra Lilies as well? Damn! A dozen bonsai Japanese Maples have vanished, too, from Greenhouse Three. Obviously this is not coincidence or carelessness. Someone’s stolen them.”
“Well, they’re hardly going to turn up on eBay. Only nurseries that know what they’re doing could sell such unusual plants as these.”
James looked straight into Inigo’s face. “You haven’t mentioned this to any of the others, have you?”
Inigo shook his head.
“Please don’t say anything to anyone else yet. I want to conduct a proper inventory. If someone is stealing things as easily counted as trays of orchids, it’s a reasonable bet they’re stealing other stuff as well. Delwynne was complaining this morning she couldn’t find her favorite wheelbarrow. I won’t be surprised if a whole raft of things has vanished. I need to be sure of my facts before I call the police.”
Inigo nodded again, watching as James opened a drawer and got out a notepad.
Inigo left, thinking, It does seem as though a thief is among us. It isn’t as if a Botanical Garden has much security apart from a few guards to redirect lost people and to discourage them from falling into the lake.
****
“Daddy, Daddy, look what Mommy bought me for the beach. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Eight-year-old Beverley ran into the living room wearing her brand new Barbie bikini and twirled around in front of her daddy.
But Daddy sat up straight in his armchair and he frowned.
“Look at your gut flopping everywhere. It’s disgusting. Haven’t you been doing your sit-ups each morning? And your thighs. Wobbling all over the place like a bowl of Jell-O. Damn it, girl, you’re so ugly, I can’t bear to look at you. Get out of my sight!”
Crushed, Beverley scuttled back to her room and hastily took off the bikini, burying it at the very bottom of her clothes closet.
Bev knew she wasn’t as thin as some of the other girls at school, but she hadn’t realized she was fat and ugly. She never, ever ate bad foods. Mommy wouldn’t allow junk food in the apartment and all Beverley’s pocket money was spent on plants. She had her own little garden out back in the yard and spent hours every day with her plants.
She did the exercises Daddy had taught her every day. Likely she should be doing more. Beverley dried her tears, took her stance in the center of her bedroom and began doing squats. Daddy said squats were the best aerobic exercise. Instead of doing twenty, she’d do one hundred. Every day. Then Daddy would love her again.
****
Beverley was trying hard to get a grip on herself about Sunday. Hyacinthe had arranged for Inigo and Bev to come to her apartment and each bring their favorite DVD to watch and discuss and a platter of their favorite food to share.
It sounded like a great idea on the surface, a good way for Beverley and Inigo to get to know each other a little better with the soothing, familiar presence of Hyacinthe there as well, but Beverley just knew they’d all end up in bed again or worse still, in the shower, and Inigo would be as disgusted with her flabby body as her father had always been.
Could she possibly delay the sex until evening and darkness? Nah, not going to happen. Lust would capture them all and likely they’d be in bed even before they ate lunch.
Hyacinthe was small, slender, fair, and beautiful. Inigo was muscular and well-built with broad shoulders and a tan that emphasized his blond hair. And she, Beverley, was stocky and pudgy and mediocre in looks. And it wasn’t that she ate like a pig and slumped on a couch all day. She watched her diet carefully, never ate more than the recommended portion size, never ate junk food, never drank soda, and had maybe a handful of glasses of alcohol in a year. Plus she exercised fiercely and was on her feet pretty much all day long. Life just wasn’t fair.
So get a grip, woman. Quit whining and make a plan!
A plan, yeah right.
****
Beverley still had no plan for how to keep her body covered when she arrived at Hyacinthe’s apartment promptly at ten with a platter of raw vegetables cut into sticks and a homemade, fat-free, tangy dip.
Inigo was jus
t pulling into the parking lot as she arrived, so she waited in the lobby for him. He bounded out of his truck and up the stairs to her, carrying a cooler. They chatted lightly as they rode the elevator together to Hyacinthe’s fourth-floor apartment.
“Veggies and dip, huh? I brought steaks marinated in beer so the veggies will be a great match for them. I wonder what Hyacinthe has chosen?”
“You haven’t taken her out to dinner to know her tastes?” asked Beverley.
“I’ve asked her a few times but she’s always turned me down. I guess I assumed she was going out with you,” he replied.
“No, we’ve never been out to dinner and the few times we’ve had lunch together at work, we’ve both brought something from home, not eaten out.”
Hyacinthe opened the door just as Inigo raised his hand to knock. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him then pulled Beverley’s head down to kiss her before leading the way through her apartment to the kitchen in back. On the counter was a large bowl full of fruit salad—berries, grapes, watermelon, peaches, cherries, mandarin orange slices, and more.
“I didn’t know you could get canned berries,” said Inigo.
“They’re fresh. Everything is fresh. There’s a wonderful store not far from here where we can buy fruits and vegetables all year round, whether or not they’re in season. I have a standing order for all my favorites, but they’ll buy in whatever clients want as long as they order in advance.”
Hyacinthe led them through to her living room. “Now let’s talk about the movies we’ve chosen and we’ll decide which order to watch them in. Beverley, you first.”
Bev had felt conflicted about this, too. While saying she liked a particular movie seemed fine, if the others didn’t like it, well, too bad, but to describe it as her favorite was opening herself up to too much possible hurt. So she’d taken a middle path by bringing a movie she liked a lot but one that wouldn’t reveal too much about her inner self or require a lot of deep and meaningful explaining.
Beverley dug in her purse and pulled out Quantum of Solace. “I like action movies, explosions, car chases, and James Bond. The plot isn’t wonderful, but the special effects are so good, I like the movie anyway.”
“Woo hoo!” said Inigo, high-fiving a startled Beverley. He showed them both the cover of the DVD he’d had in one of the pockets of his cargo pants. “Sherlock Holmes. Same reasons—lots of action, special effects, and the plot’s not bad either. They’ve even made an effort to keep the characters reasonably close to the original books.”
“Oh yes, I’ll enjoy seeing that one again, too,” said Beverley. “What did you choose, Hyacinthe?”
She held up The Princess Bride.
“Hmm. Okay,” said Inigo. “My sister made me watch that quite a few times when we were kids. The only thing that prevented me from strangling her was that the story was actually being read to a little boy.”
“Apart from the sword-fight scene. Did you know those guys actually learned to fence for that scene and did it all themselves except for the somersaults?” asked Beverley.
“Really?”
“Yes. They filmed it using mirror-image sets because they were supposed to be ambidextrous. Can we watch that one first?” Beverley looked at Inigo and Hyacinthe.
“Yeah, get it out of the way before we do the good stuff,” Inigo said, his voice light and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.
“Sure,” agreed Hyacinthe, popping her DVD in the player.
The three sat together on the couch, Cinthe in the middle, holding each of their hands.
Inigo draped his arm along the top of the couch, his fingers playing with the back of Hyacinthe’s neck.
Surprisingly, Beverley enjoyed their movie marathon. They laughed and talked and joked. They took a break after the second movie and Inigo grilled the steaks while the two women sat at the kitchen counter and they all talked about the movies, the actors, the plot inconsistencies, and twists, each of them trash-talking the others’ films, but all of them laughing too much to bother defending their choices.
It wasn’t until they were all in the bedroom and Hyacinthe brought out a couple of huge, fluffy towels, a dish of warm, soapy water, a razor and shaving cream that Beverley’s heart sank and she knew the fun had come to an end. Cinthe would insist she get undressed. Inigo would likely be too polite to say anything, but he would look at her belly and thighs and be disgusted with her, just the way her father had looked all those years ago, the way her own face fell when she was forced to take a close look at herself in a mirror. No matter how often the height and weight charts and body-mass index calculations showed her as being in the normal, healthy weight range at five eight and one thirty pounds, the mirror did not lie. The mirror showed a flabby belly and cellulite-dimpled thighs.
Bev struggled not to burst into tears. She loved Hyacinthe so much. She was prepared to share her, she really was. She didn’t even mind Inigo. He was a decent enough man and the time she’d spent in his company today was enjoyable. But damn it all to hell, now the shit was going to hit the fan and she’d lose Hyacinthe forever.
Beverley swallowed hard, blinked the incipient tears from her eyes, dragged in a big breath and looked up. Inigo was already naked as was Hyacinthe. But their bodies looked so good. Naked suited them. Hyacinthe was lean with soft curves in all the right places, at hips and breasts. Inigo was hard and sculpted, tapering in a perfect triangle from broad shoulders through to narrow hips.
Cinthe touched her shoulder lightly. “I know it’s hard for you, but you must get undressed. There will be no secrets between us three. We are forming a unit. Then I am going to shave you both. You will both be as sensitive as I am and the sex will be even better.”
“Can’t I—?”
“No, undress now, Bev. It’s like swimming in cold water. Better to dive straight in and then you accept it.” Hyacinthe’s eyes had darkened with sympathy, but her chin was firm with purpose.
Inigo looked at Beverley, concern in his eyes. “If you have a … scar … or something, I would never laugh at you or tell other people. You know that, don’t you?”
His words shocked her out of her pity party. He thought she’d had a mastectomy or other major surgery and here she was acting like a drama queen because she was fat.
“No, nothing like that. I’m just fat and I know that puts men off sex. Not that you and I are having sex, of course.” God, she was digging herself deeper and deeper into the pit here.
Bev turned her back on him and quietly started to remove her clothing, including the extra-large t-shirt she’d worn, hoping to be able to sleep in it.
When she turned around Hyacinthe had laid the towels on the edge of the bed, with the other equipment ready and waiting on the nightstand. Inigo sat on the towel next to the nightstand, leaving the one nearest Beverley for her to sit on. Her entire body blushing pink in embarrassment, Bev lowered her head and sat on the towel.
“Shaved genitals make the skin a lot more sensitive. It heightens all the erotic sensations for both people involved. So for foreplay, I will shave you both then we’ll go from there,” Hyacinthe announced. “Who wants to be first? Or should I do you both together?”
“I don’t mind.”
“You choose.”
Beverley and Inigo spoke at the same time.
“Okay I’ll do you together.” Hyacinthe sprayed shaving cream lavishly over Inigo’s blond curls and then over Beverley’s brown ones. Next she wet the razor and stroked it around Inigo’s cock. Beverley couldn’t help noticing how Inigo’s shaft grew longer when Hyacinthe touched it.
Then it was her turn as Cinthe swept the razor across her mons.
Unbelievably carnal sensations swamped Beverley—the gentle slide of the razor across her pubis, the light touches of Hyacinthe’s slender fingers on her pussy. Then she watched the razor move through the nest of curls surrounding Inigo’s cock, understanding why he was groaning and shivering as goose bumps spread across her own flesh, not from cold but from lust
.
Shaving the two of them together was twice as potent an aphrodisiac, Beverley understood now, because even though seeing a man’s cock did not arouse her, knowing Inigo was feeling what she was feeling, knowing Hyacinthe’s soft touches aroused him as they aroused her—all that was beyond erotic, way beyond the usual teasing of foreplay. Hyacinthe had been making all the decisions for them, but she was right. She was the core around which they were gathered and her choices were just what they needed to help them become a unit.
If Hyacinthe wasn’t careful, Beverley and Inigo would both come before they even got into bed. Or maybe that was Hyacinthe’s plan, thought Beverley. Today was a lot more than “getting to know you better”.
Beverley realized her guess had been correct. The way Hyacinthe was teasing Inigo’s cock and anus as she shaved the last of his hair was driving him close to the breaking point. His cock was very engorged, huge and hot and red, the head a deep reddish-purple, and it was obvious even to Beverley that he was hanging onto his control by the slenderest of threads.
Cinthe leaned forward, rinsed the last of the shaving cream off and sucked Inigo’s cock into her mouth.
“Oh, God, Hyacinthe, don’t! I can’t—”
“Come, Inigo. Come for me now.” Hyacinthe lifted her mouth off him for just a moment to speak.
Inigo moaned, his hands buried in Hyacinthe’s hair as her mouth worked his cock. Beverley watched, entranced, as he thrust into Hyacinthe’s mouth several more times, groaning again when Hyacinthe’s hands moved around his balls, rolling them and stroking his cock.
Hyacinthe licked him a little more, kissed him to share his own flavor with him, then rinsed her hands in the bowl and took a drink of water before moving across to Beverley as Inigo relaxed back on the bed.
Bev caught herself wondering what a man tasted like then decided not to find out. She was not sucking a cock. But sucking a pussy, oh yes, she’d be more than happy to suck off Hyacinthe.
Hyacinthe pushed her back farther on the bed. “Put your feet flat on the bed so I can get these last fine hairs from around your lips.”
Blooming Love Page 2
