by Tina Donahue
When they didn’t leave, Holly craned her neck to see past them to the outside. “Is your driver not here?” She whipped a smartphone from her scanty uniform. “I’ll have our limo service give you a lift. They’re always on call and will be here in five—”
“Thanks, but not necessary. We drove.” Lucius looked from her to Bree, confusion in his eyes as to her demeanor.
Her heart twisted, but she kept her cool, pretending she didn’t know him or the others.
Hurt swept Tav’s face.
Cody looked lost.
She couldn’t address their reactions without crying. Hardened against her feelings, she gestured to the door. “Gentlemen.”
Mumbling, Cody left first.
Lucius followed.
Tav lingered.
It killed her, but Bree turned her back on him. “Holly, please make sure the door is locked and the outside lights are off.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Bree didn’t wait for Tav’s departure. She had reached the hallway leading to her office when noise from the closing door reached her.
Sagged against the wall, she covered her face but didn’t allow herself a deeper reaction or tears.
Lucius slumped in the driver’s seat, Cody riding shotgun, Tav in back. They’d agreed to arrive together, none trying to outdo the other or reach Bree first.
Cody twisted in his seat. “What the fuck just happened in there?”
If Lucius had an answer, he would have offered it, but Bree surprised him in a way he never expected. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe she’d throw her arms around them and grind her pussy into their cocks while standing at the front door. The young woman next to her had vetoed that behavior.
However, for Bree to have been chillier than the damp night air? He didn’t get her leaving the fetish room before making plans for their next outing, whether it was in the club or somewhere else.
She’d rushed away as if they were lepers, the same way she had at Mortganson when she’d happened upon them without meaning to.
He didn’t like where his mind was going. “Do you think this evening was only about her honoring financial obligations because of our loan?”
“What? No.” Tav gripped Lucius’s seat. “She’s not like that. Don’t say she is.”
He started his Mercedes. “I was just asking.”
Cody bounced his legs, a nervous habit he’d displayed at Mortganson when bad shit might be coming down. “She enjoyed herself. I know she did.”
Lucius had certainly thought so. He drove from the club grounds and eased onto State Route 1, locally known as the PCH or Pacific Coast Highway. “Did we do something to piss her off?” He couldn’t recall anything.
“Hell yeah.” Tav stamped his foot on the floor. “We spanked her too hard in the fetish room.”
As Lucius recalled, she’d moaned better than an adult film star during an orgy scene, Bree’s responses unfiltered and genuine. “If we hurt her, she would have said something. She’s hardly docile.”
“When I was inside her she couldn’t get enough.” Cody tapped his fist against the window. “The few times we talked while you guys were asleep, she was happy not mad.”
Same for Lucius. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Tav. “How was she with you when you guys spoke?”
A euphoric look unclenched his jaw. “Amazing. More than I could have hoped for. When most women get me alone, they complain about stuff I forgot to do or throw out endless suggestions on how they want me to behave because I’m not doing it to their specifications. Not once did Bree offer a critical word. She told me not to change. She likes me as I am, even my pissing beard even though it kept scraping her skin. That has to fucking count for something.”
Lucius wouldn’t have bet his future on it. He spoke to both. “What are your plans?”
Tav lifted his shoulders. “Now? Tonight? Or rather this morning?”
This evening and the coming ones concerned Lucius more. “No. As to Bree.”
“I’m onboard for seeing her again.” Tav leaned between the seats. “Like a lot. No doubt whatsoever.”
Cody turned to give Tav a look. “Sure about that? She wasn’t exactly throwing herself in your arms at the entrance.”
“Yours either.” He punched the headrest.
Lucius glared at Tav in the mirror. “Quit beating up my car.”
“Relax. I didn’t hurt anything, and you can buy a hundred dealerships without the cost putting a dent in your precious bank balance. There’s a twenty-four-hour diner around the next corner. We passed it on the way in.”
“So?”
“Let’s grab a bite. We need to talk this shit out, determine our next move. Unless you guys are planning to approach Bree on your own. It’s not what we agreed to. I would hope our friendship means something.”
It did. Growing up, Lucius had attended school and hung out with other trust fund brats, their cold disregard for others’ feelings, especially the working class, bothering him even then. They’d breezed through life unconcerned at the messes and havoc they’d created for others to clean up. Several should have served time for white-collar offenses, but law enforcement turned a blind eye because of their pedigrees, while those in Washington needed their money to run winning campaigns.
So far, only one landed in prison, because he’d used a shotgun to blow his father’s brains out—the old guy hadn’t died quickly enough on his own—freeing up a multi-billion-dollar inheritance.
Cody, and especially Tav, had grounded Lucius, showing him what decent people were like, always having his back, even when he was an asshole. “Our friendship means everything to me. Always will.”
“Me too.” Cody rested his head against the window. “We do this together or not at all.”
Lucius swung into the lot, the diner a dive by elite standards. Green and blue neon displayed the twenty-four-hour status, a sign weathered from salt-laced air and driving winds bearing the establishment name. Twentysomethings sat near cloudy windows streaked from too much rain, mist, and countless hands. Oldsters were also inside, reading whatever showed on their smartphones.
A girl behind the register gestured them toward her, a forlorn country-western song pumping from the corner jukebox. “Take whatever seat you want. A server will be with you shortly.”
Their booth sported red vinyl seats, similar in color to the sexy suit Bree had worn. Lucius pulled menus from the holder and handed them out. “What’s good here?”
“Beats me.” Tav flipped the menu pages. “I just moved to Southern California. You guys have been here longer.”
Once each had made enough seed money at Mortganson, they’d fled congested and always-cold San Francisco to grow their wealth by investing in aerospace, tech, and entertainment industries in Los Angeles and Orange County. The balmy weather a major draw.
Lucius had been the first to settle here, glad to be away from his family’s reach. He hadn’t explored whether he’d chosen this area because Bree had also done so, putting down roots a year before he had. When Cody followed him then Tav, reuniting their team, Lucius should have guessed what they were doing. Their behavior no better than adolescent boys taking the same classes as the popular girl, hoping to run into her.
There were too many residents and tourists in this area to make that happen with Bree. If she hadn’t needed funding, they might never have seen her again.
A lanky teenager wearing jeans, sneakers, and a polo shirt bearing the restaurant name stopped at their table, a pencil and pad in his hand. “What’ll it be?”
Tav pointed to the breakfast menu. “Make my steak medium, eggs over easy, double home fries, and whole wheat toast. Strawberry jelly on the side. And a large orange juice, plus water.”
“I’ll have the same.” Lucius slipped his menu into the holder. “Coffee, too. Sugar and cream.”
“They’re on the table. And for you?”
Cody ordered bacon, a waffle, apple juice, and coffee.
“Got i
t. Your order will be up in a jiff.” The boy plodded toward the kitchen area, two middle-aged men cooking and sweating by the grills.
Tav crossed his arms on the table. “So what do we do about Bree? Do we call her?”
“Now?” Cody pressed his lips together and spun his knife in place. “She’s probably sleeping. We wore her out.”
Worry crossed Tav’s face. “Do you think she’s sore?”
Lucius was, his dick burning from so much action. “Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but I fucking feel good.”
The elderly couple behind him twisted around, giving them a look.
“Better keep it down.” Lucius leaned closer. “The people behind you are getting an earful.” He kept his voice low. “Bree doesn’t strike me as the type to clutch her pearls if her pussy’s aching a little.”
Cody pushed closer. “Then what do you think happened?”
“Us.”
Tav wrinkled his nose. “She enjoyed herself too much?”
Lucius didn’t want to voice the truth, much less admit it to himself, but there wasn’t another choice if they were going to go forward with her. “No. There’s three of us. She might not crave so much attention all the time. A one-off might have been enough for her. She satisfied her curiosity—because this couldn’t have been about the investment—and now wants to go back to doing things the usual way.”
Tav pushed back in the booth.
Cody gripped his knife. “You mean one guy. Just one of us?”
“It’s possible. I can’t think of another explanation, can you? We did more than have fun tonight, we burned up the fucking club. She got into it, especially in the voyeur room. Even before we reached the fetish stuff, she was throwing out suggestions, which we honored. If either of you saw reluctance or disgust on her part, say so now.”
They shook their heads.
“Fuck.” Cody slumped against the vinyl. “If she wants only one of us, who will it be?”
Tav’s certainty about seeing her again evaporated, his face morose. He looked at them. “You guys have better backgrounds than me. You didn’t grow up in the inner city.”
Lucius rolled his eyes. “Do you truly believe she’s that shallow?”
He grew pensive. “No. But I was last nearly every time we were together unless I fought for first place.”
Cody bumped Tav’s arm. “Did you hear Bree complaining when you won?”
Tav’s confidence returned, somewhat. “No. But what if she’s already in love with one of you guys?”
“Not you guys. Us. All three.” Lucius tapped his paper napkin. “Until she tells you otherwise, you’re still in this.”
Tav rubbed his forehead. “What if she won’t let herself fall because she’s afraid to hurt the two she rejects?”
Always a chance, but one Lucius had to take. “We won’t know until we ask her.”
“When?” Tav gripped the table. “Tonight, when she’s back working?”
“Too soon.”
“Here you go.” The boy delivered water, two coffees and the pot, plus apple and orange juice. “I’ll have the rest of your order here in five.”
Once he was out of earshot, Cody leaned against the table. “How long do we wait? Why are we waiting?”
“To find out where we stand.” Lucius emptied a sugar packet into his coffee and stirred in cream. “There’s only one way to do so.”
Tav licked OJ off his lips. “Which is?”
Lucius told them. An idea that had risen and germinated while they’d been talking. This evening couldn’t be the sum total with her.
Cody perked up then slumped. “What if she doesn’t go for it?”
“What does it matter if she does?” Tav threw up his hands. “I can’t compete with you guys.” He looked at Cody. “You live for exciting stuff. Her club’s the same, way past the norm. You’re two of a kind. And you.” He gestured to Lucius. “There’s no end to the wonders you can afford.”
Lucius pushed his juice aside. “This isn’t about money or looks or anything other than whether we connect with her on a personal level.”
“Yeah?” Tav crossed his arms. “I thought we did tonight.”
The elderly couple left, shooting daggers at them on the way out.
Lucius gave them his sweetest smile then spoke to Tav. “We did.” The hours he’d spent with Bree were the best in recent memory and he wanted them back, her opened and willing as she’d been before shutting down. “While all of us were together.”
Now they needed a different tack to see whether Bree would be in their future or not. “Whatever happens, we stick to the plan. Agreed?”
Cody and Tav nodded.
They shook hands, then dove into their meals as they refined the program.
Bree awakened at two in the afternoon, neck stiff, knees creaky, ass still faintly sensitive from numerous spankings.
Her smile happened before she knew it, thoughts returning to her last punishment in the fetish room. She chased her memories and grin away. Resolved to forget last evening and this morning, she rolled onto her stomach, hugging her giant pillow. The thing nearly matched her height and was way better to snuggle against than a guy who would injure her heart and shred her dignity, leaving her to pick up the pieces as her mother always had with her ‘boyfriends’.
When Bree dragged into her house this morning, her mom had left five messages, each tear-filled and more desperate than the last, wrenching sobs interrupting her questions as to why her latest love had cheated on her then left, not even glancing back, his things in hand. Doubt followed, as it always did, her concern centering on how she shouldn’t have complained about his transgressions. They were only flings. He truly loved her and always returned after he’d had his fun. She should try to understand him rather than bitch. Perhaps if she’d lost those five pounds she couldn’t seem to shed. Or dyed her hair another color. Had dinner waiting for him once he got home from hanging with the guys.
Endlessly, the messages played.
Speaking to her was no better. For hours, Bree tried to talk her down and stop her from racing to the woman’s house where he was currently staying. “Confronting her or him won’t do any good. They might call the cops then you’ll be in trouble. The best thing is to forget him. No one can force someone’s love. And, believe me, what he did to you wasn’t your fault. It’s his flaw. You need a guy who accepts you as you are.”
She wept. “I’m getting old. I don’t look good any longer. I should have gone to the gym. Do you know a good plastic surgeon? A face lift and tummy tuck would help.”
Until the next guy abandoned her, not liking how she clung or grew possessive and suspicious regarding everything he did. “Mom, I want you to know I’m saying this out of love. It’s not criticism. God knows, I’m so far from perfect, I’d have to take a rocket ship to get back to normal, but before you do anything else, especially meeting another man, you need to treat your addiction.”
“What?” She shouted. “How dare you. I don’t do drugs, not even weed, and I rarely drink. Never have. Now your good-for-nothing father, that bastard…”
Bree let her talk herself out, berating a father she’d never known and wouldn’t, not even knowing his name. When her mother stopped to inhale, Bree measured her words. “I wasn’t referring to drugs or alcohol. You never indulged, and I’m grateful. I’m speaking of your other addiction.”
“To what?”
“Love. Needing a guy more than you do air, food, water.” Or self-respect. Too many times, she’d debased herself to keep a guy around, even allowing some to abuse her.
So different from what Bree had shared with Lucius, Tav, and Cody at her club. Those were games. If her mother wasn’t careful, she’d end up in the hospital or a morgue thanks to a future boyfriend’s rage. “There’s an excellent therapist in this area. She’s world-renowned. I’ll foot the bill. You can stay with me while you’re healing.”
“From what? Being normal? You’re the one who should see
a shrink. You never date. Why? Don’t you like men? Are women your thing?”
Arguing was useless and would take energy Bree didn’t have. “I’m trying to help, Mom. Just give it a try. You can move in here today.”
“Why should I? I have my own house.”
One Bree had bought for her prior to earning her first million and well before she’d purchased a home for herself. “I’ll text you the therapist’s number, should you change your mind.”
“Don’t bother because I won’t. I thought I could call my own daughter and expect some sympathy, but no. You’re as vicious as your damn father. You two deserve each other.”
The call ended, nothing changed. In another month or two, her mother would be back on the line, pleading for help she didn’t want, and asking for understanding many would have said she didn’t deserve.
With that legacy, Bree figured she’d made the right choice not to see Tav, Lucius, or Cody again.
If only her heart, mind, and body agreed.
She slogged through the afternoon, a late breakfast impossible to eat. Her dry toast ended up in the backyard, brunch for the birds. LA sprawled below the hillside. She fed a neighborhood cat her untouched scrambled eggs, the feline gobbling them in a flash then zipping away. No surprise since it was male.
Showering and dressing for the club sapped what scant energy she had. If she moved any slower, she’d be frozen in place.
With her hair pinned up and her black pant suit on—another sexy design like what she’d worn yesterday—she regarded herself in the mirrored doors and wondered if she bore her mother’s weakness for men, possibly a genetic defect.
Her grief-stricken face said she did. Although she hadn’t cried, her eyes were puffy. So were her lips. Makeup didn’t completely mask her reddened chin and cheeks. At any other time, she would have thought the color looked good on her.
Not now. This was the first day of the rest of her life, as the corny posters proclaimed.
She stared at herself. “You’ll forget them. You don’t need a guy except to have fun with, on your terms.” A great pep talk, once she believed it. “They deserve better. A woman who can offer herself unconditionally without pulling back.” Seesawing between wanting them and needing to flee was driving her crazy. She didn’t want to consider what it did to them since they didn’t know what she was thinking. “They’ll be fine. Women have probably already lined up to give them what they need.” She squeezed her fists. “You have to trust your gut.”
