Desk Job (London Menage Book 2)

by Lily Harlem

  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.”

  “Ménage a trois.”

  “Pardon?”

  “That’s what it’s called. It’s what you’re suggesting, the French call it ménage a trois.”

  “So it’s very appropriate that we’re in a French restaurant then.” He flashed me one of his devastating smiles.

  “I guess so.”

  Our meal arrived and Andre released my hand.

  “Thank you,” I said to the waitress as she poured coffee.

  “This looks nice,” Andre said.

  “Yes.” I picked up my knife and fork and tucked in. Andre’s words were spinning around my brain. So were Tristan’s from the evening before. And also Sian’s telling me to go for it.

  “What are you thinking?” Andre asked after a few minutes.

  “I’m wondering what would happen to my job if it didn’t work out.”

  “Your job is a different matter to our relationship. It wouldn’t be affected.”

  “But of course it would.”

  “I promise you it wouldn’t, however, don’t you see that by being our PA and our lover it means we can maximize time together, all three of us. It’s perfect.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Yes, just like you.”

  I laughed. “I’m far from perfect and I’ve already told Tristan that.”

  “You’re perfect for us.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “We’re not asking you to marry us and have our babies…” He paused. “Just to give it a go. Give us a go. Let’s see if we can make it work between us and in the process, I promise you, it will be a lot of fun.”

  “Sexy fun?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Sexy fun.” He grinned. “And who knows where it might lead.”

  I popped in the last of my meal and set my knife and fork down.

  I noticed the door opening. The restaurant was quiet and nearly empty so a new patron was noticeable.

  Tristan.

  Like me he must have taken a moment to get used to the dim light because he stood in the doorway and glanced around.

  “Why is he here?” I asked Andre, my heart rate knocking up a level.

  “He wants to see you. He was worried how you two left it.” Andre held up his hand.

  Tristan spotted us and walked over. Like Andre, he was casual today in jeans and a top, though his outfit was entirely black.

  “Hi,” he said, his attention on me.

  “Tristan.”

  He sat on the bench on the opposite side to Andre, effectively trapping me between them. “Are you okay?” He appeared concerned as he studied my face.

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t like letting you walk away from me yesterday. You were upset.”

  “Not upset, just confused.”

  “Same thing.” He took my hand.

  I glanced at Andre.

  Andre looked at my hand in Tristan’s then smiled at me. “It’s fine.”

  It’s fine.

  Yes. It was fine. Wasn’t it? I drew in a deep breath.

  “Please don’t be confused,” Tristan said. “Let’s just give it a go and see if it works.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “Like this.” He reached for my face, stared at my mouth for a moment, then pressed his lips over mine. Repeating the passion and desire of the kiss we’d shared the night before.

  It came flooding back to me why I wanted Tristan so much. He was gorgeous, dark, his kiss screamed sin of the good kind.

  I whimpered and clutched his forearms. His tongue had tangled with mine and he was holding me close.

  “Ah fuck,” he said, pulling back and gazing into my eyes. “Does it feel as right for you as it does for me?”

  “I … I think so.”

  He smiled, a deliciously dirty smile that made me want to get naked. How the hell did he do that to me?

  He released my face and put one hand on my thigh. His flesh appeared dark against my light trousers.

  Andre slid his hand over my opposite thigh, his fingers longer and paler but equally big and strong.

  “We’re both willing to give this a go if you are, Stella,” Andre said close to my ear.

  I turned to him and found my lips a whisper from his. “Kiss me.”

  He did, a lovely profound kiss that reminded me of being in his bed, in his arms, of him being inside me.

  Tristan slid his hand down my leg to my knee then back up again.

  I felt cocooned in their desire for me. Caught up in the crazy fling they were suggesting.

  Go for it. Sian’s words were like a mantra in my head.

  Yes. I would. Go for it that was. What did I have to lose? Two hot guys who wanted to make me happy and keep me satisfied. It was like all my Christmases and birthdays come at once.

  I pulled back from Andre.

  He had a slight sheen on his lips and his eyes sparkled.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Yes, what?” he asked a little hesitantly.

  “Yes, let’s give it a go.” I turned to Tristan. “I
want you both, I can’t deny it. You’re both sexy and charming and if you can cope with sharing me then I reckon I can get my head around this.”

  “You won’t regret it,” Andre said, moving closer so that his shoulder nudged mine.

  “We promise,” Tristan said.

  “You’re going to be the most pampered, indulged, adored woman in London,” Andre added.

  “And satisfied.” Tristan slid his hand higher, so his fingertips sat over the zipper of my pants.

  “I’m looking forward to all these promises being fulfilled,” I said.

  “And they will be.” Tristan nuzzled my ear.

  I tipped my head closer to his and at the same time threaded my fingers with Andre’s. Damn this was hot.

  I focused on the far side of the room. The waitress was setting an empty table, and her gaze was fixed on us.

  God, what is she thinking?

  Here I was with two hot men. I’d kissed them both, was being touched by them both. Any number of things could be running through her mind about me.

  “We should take this somewhere else,” I said, pushing gently at Tristan.

  “Mmm, where do you have in mind?”

  “I live around the corner.”

  “Are you inviting us?” Andre asked.

  “You know damn well I am.” I paused. “If you both want to, that is.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Yes. We do.” Tristan pulled back then stood. He looked down at me, a dark flash of determination crossing his eyes. “I want to finish something I started yesterday.” He held out his hand. “If that’s okay with you, Stella.”

  A quiver attacked my belly. He wanted to fuck. Now. Soon. Back at my place.

  I couldn’t deny I wanted him, so I took his hand and allowed him to pull me up.

  Andre dropped a few notes on the table and also stood. “We won’t always both be around at the same time.”

  “But you are today,” I said.

  “Yes.”

  Tristan tugged me toward the door. I followed, aware of Andre right behind me.

  Stepping out onto the street, I squinted in the bright sunshine. A road sweeper passed by with its rotating brushes creating a loud whoosh just feet from ours.

  “Which way?” Tristan asked over the din.