by Vicki Savage
The men were also quiet, which was fine by me. They had given me a lot to think about, and I needed time to process it.
It was hard to believe that only yesterday I was ready to end my life. Things had changed so much since then. I guess if I took anything away from this experience, it would be that no matter how bad things got, you just needed to hang on. Things changed so fast in this world. All you had to do was wait.
When we arrived back in Paris, Claude and Brice had to deal with a minor emergency at the café. Supplies had been stretched to the limit, and arrangements had to be made in order to keep customers happy. As I sat on one of the stools and watched the commotion, I couldn’t help but think of my sister. I needed someone to talk to, and she was the closest thing to a friend I had right now.
Sliding out my phone, I dialed her number and waited for her to pick up.
“Maggie, is that you?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“How are things going?” my sister asked. “Are you ready to come home yet?”
“Not yet. I . . . I met these guys.”
“Guys? As in two?”
“Yeah.”
“Girl, you need to give me some of that luck.”
I chuckled.
“What are their names?”
“Brice and Claude.”
There was a brief hesitation, then my sister swore under her breath. “I completely forgot.”
I straightened in my chair. “Forgot what?”
“Maggie, listen to me. Those guys, they aren’t what you think.”
I straightened in my seat. “Why? What are they?”
“Ah, hell. I should have just minded my own business.”
“What are you talking about?”
There was a brief hesitation, then my sister spoke the words that would turn my world upside down. “I hired them.”
I stood up from my seat. “You hired them?”
“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry. I told Jarod about your problems with Robert.”
“Jarod—as in, your husband?”
“Yeah, and he knew someone who knew someone. Anyway, long story short, I called this company in Paris that helps people deal with issues that they might be having.”
“Issues?”
“Like a life coach.”
I shook my head and rubbed my temple. “A life coach.”
“Yes. They find people who are down on their luck and help them get back on their feet. Sometimes they sit and listen, other times they offer them a job in their café and a place to stay while they sort things out.”
I glanced around at the staff in the café, wondering just how many of these people Brice and Claude had “helped”.
“Are you saying I’m a fucking charity case?”
I must have spoken loud, because the entire café turned and stared at me.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. I thought they were just going to make sure you were okay. When you said Robert broke up with you, I assumed that they’d leave you alone.”
“Well, they didn’t.” Oh, God. This was all a setup. Could things get any worse?
“Maggie?” My sister’s voice sounded gentle, almost hesitant. “Are you okay?”
“I need some time to think.”
“But—”
“I’ll talk to you later.” I ended the call and gathered my things. I knew I couldn’t blame my sister. She was just worried about me. She knew better than most what I had been through and my fragile emotional state.
I couldn’t blame my sister, but I could hate her. Before her phone call, I had begun to care about Brice and Claude and thought that they cared about me. We had sex, for crying out loud. Amazing, wonderful sex that was borderline illegal back in the states.
I blinked as the brunette from last night walked by and smiled at me. Had Claude and Brice fucked her too? Had they told her she was special? I was such a fool.
Shaking my head, I stormed out of the café. I was so completely over this, this . . . whatever it was. It was long past time I headed home.
Chapter Five
Everything had been arranged. The airplane ticket had been paid for and my bags packed. I was going to be leaving Paris, and something told me I would never be back again. There were just too many bad memories.
As the taxi pulled up to the sidewalk in front of my hotel, a sadness filled my heart. I had thought that Brice and Claude were different from the rest of the people in my life, that they had considered me special. Turns out, they were no better than the rest. No, they didn’t beat me, nor did they put me down verbally. They didn’t have to. Learning that having sex with me was nothing more special than what they did with everyone at the café made me feel sick and hollow inside. Knowing that my sister put them up to it made everything worse.
Despite their good intentions, Claude, Brice and my sister were trying to manipulate me, and therefore no better than Robert. While I no longer felt the urge to kill myself, I felt he need to purge my life of all of this negative energy and start anew. Brice was right about one thing. I was better than all of this. I deserved more.
“Maggie, wait!”
As the taxi driver loaded my suitcase into the trunk, I turned and saw Brice running toward me. I put my hand on the door handle, fully intending on getting in the vehicle and slamming the door in his face. Unfortunately, he was too quick. He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the taxi before I could hide from him.
“Maggie.”
“Let me go, Brice.” I jerked my arm from his grasp. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“What are you doing?” he asked as he dropped his hand. “Why. . .” He motioned toward the taxi.
I lifted my chin. “Are you saying I can’t go?”
“No, of course not. You’re your own woman. You can do what you want.”
I nodded. “Damn straight.”
“But why?” He stepped closer. “I mean, I thought we had a good thing going.”
“We did, until I realized that my sister put you up to this. Until I learned that you do this with all of the staff at the café. That this is part of your fucking job.”
“Is that what you think?” He ran his hand over his military cut and let out a long breath. “Okay, we probably deserve that, but there is so much more going on than you know.” He took my hands in his. “Please, give us a chance to explain.” He tightened his grip as I tried to pull away. “After you hear our explanation, if you still want to go, then go. No one will stop you. But please . . . I want you to hear the whole story before you decide anything so permanent.”
“Mademoiselle?” the taxi driver asked.
“Just an hour,” Brice said. “That’s all I ask.”
“I’ll miss my plane.”
“If you decide to stay the hour, I will gladly pay for a new ticket.”
I glanced at the taxi driver and considered Brice’s words. I could get into the taxi and drive away, never to see Brice or Claude again. I could do that, but I knew deep down I wouldn’t be happy. Once I returned home, my sister would once again try to run my life. She’d find me a job somewhere doing something, and I’d end up moving in with her because I couldn’t afford my own place. I’d work too hard to have many friends and be far too busy fulfilling my sister’s wishes to think about what I wanted out of life.
I could leave now, but part of me would always wonder what would have happened if I had taken Brice up on his offer and heard him out. If I stayed that one extra hour and let him and Claude present their case, would it make a difference? There was only one way to find out.
I nodded. “One hour.”
“Thank you.” He kissed my cheek, taking me completely by surprise. I stepped back, allowing him to pass me and grab my suitcase from the truck.
“She has changed her mind,” he told the driver. After pulling out the handle and rolling my luggage back to me, he took my hand. “Come on.”
“Where’s Claude?” I asked.
“Back at the café.”
“Ah, you found her!” He spread his arms open wide and closed the distance between us. “Thank God.”
I stepped back before he could wrap me in his now-famous bear hug.
“She knows,” Brice said when Claude flashed him a questioning glance.
“Ah, that explains a lot.” He lowered his arms and considered me for a moment before continuing. “Come.” He took my suitcase from Brice.
“I only agreed to an hour,” I said as he started toward the kitchens.
“It will be enough.”
I glanced at Brice, who motioned me forward. Stuffing my hands in my coat pockets, I followed Claude back to the kitchens.
“Please, sit.” The kitchen was simple and clean. A butcher-block counter stood in the middle of the room, cleared and scrubbed clean as if it hadn’t been used in years.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“I closed the café for the rest of the day.”
“Wouldn’t you lose money?” I asked as I slid into the seat by the counter.
“Yes, but this is more important.” Claude sat on one side of me, Brice on the other. Once situated, Claude took my hands in his. “Now, let’s start by you telling us what you think you know.”
“Well,”—I pulled my hands from his grasp and folded them in my lap—“I know my sister called you. She was worried about me because of Robert and wanted you two to keep an eye out for me. She wanted. . .” She wanted to keep me safe. I took in a deep breath and let it out. Talking about this was harder than I realized. “She wanted you two to make sure Robert wouldn’t hit me like my ex-husband did.”
Claude muttered in French. If I had any idea, I never would have spanked—”
“I wanted it, Claude.” I raised my gaze to meet his. “What you did was totally different from the punches that monster made to my face. You weren’t angry.” I fisted my hands. “You weren’t trying to control me.”
“He wasn’t,” Brice agreed. “And you have to believe that neither one of us would ever try to do such a thing.”
I uncurled my fingers and forced myself to relax. “I know. Those are my demons to fight, not yours.”
Claude made a sound of disgust. “That’s ridiculous. Anyone who hurts you needs to answer to us.”
His reaction was sweet but unwarranted. “You don’t understand. These are my problems, my responsibility.”
Brice stood and walked a short distance away. I watched as the muscles tensed in his back, and how his hands clenched at his sides.
“Let the emotion come. Your father has no control over you, Brice. Not here. Not anymore.”
“Damn it. It’s not right.” Brice turned and held up his fist. His features were twisted in an angry snarl. “We should make them suffer for what they did to her.”
Claude held up his hand, stopping his words. “Violence will not help her now. No one knows that better than you.”
“But it will make me feel better.” Despite his words, I saw his muscles relax as he returned to his stool.
Claude frowned and then refocused on me. “Please, continue.”
I cleared my throat and tried to pick up where I left off. “I talked to her on the phone after we got back from the winery, and Sheila told me everything. At first I didn’t believe her. But then . . . but then she told me that your café was set up to help people in need. That you both took in people who were going through a difficult time in their lives and gave them a safe place to live and work. You became their friends and helped them get back on their feet.” I studied Claude’s face for a moment before continuing. “That was why you worked at the veteran hospital, wasn’t it? It was because you took in people who were having a rough time and helped them.”
Claude looked over my shoulder at Brice. “It was.”
I nodded in understanding. “Then that is all I am to you two, a charity case.” Shaking my head, I wiped a stray tear on my cheek. “If you weren’t being paid, you wouldn’t care.”
Brice stood, pushing back his stool. “Of all the stupid—”
Claude raised his hand, stopping him. “Was that what she said?” he asked.
“In so many words, yes.”
Claude straightened and motioned Brice to sit. He then considered me for a long moment before speaking.
“What your sister said was the truth, but not the whole truth.”
“It wasn’t?”
Claude shook his head. “She did call us and ask us to intervene. Brice tracked you down and had been watching you and your lover for days. It was why he was able to help you at the Eiffel Tower.”
“I had tried to tell you this back at the winery.” Brice sat back down and glanced at his hands in his lap. “But I couldn’t.”
Claude covered my hands with his. “Your sister initially started things by hiring us, but she only hired us to be your friend.”
“My friend?”
“She wanted us to make you feel special and to show you that men like Robert were scum. She wanted us to take you out, to build your self-confidence and show you a good time.”
“She never told us to have sex with you,” Brice said.
“And if she did, we would have refused, because that is not what this place is about,” Claude added. “While it is true that our true business is helping people get back on their feet—”
“We do it by offering them jobs and places to stay. By talking to them and offering professional help, if needed.”
“We have never had sex with any of our staff,” Claude said. “I suspect for many of the people here, that would do more harm than good.”
“Then why me?” I asked.
“Because you are different.” Claude brushed his fingers down the side of my cheek, sending tingles over my skin. “When I brought you upstairs, it was to have a private dinner and nothing more, but then you stepped out onto the balcony, and when I saw how much you needed someone to love you, and how beautiful you looked in the moonlight . . .” He shrugged. “I got carried away.”
“I have to admit I was surprised when I walked into the room,” Brice said. “But I quickly recovered. We had both been watching you for days and felt as if we knew you better than you knew yourself.”
“We would discuss you at night, after the staff went home to sleep,” Claude said.
“And during the day while on break,” Brice added.
“You were never far from our thoughts.”
Brice inched closer. “We knew even before you stepped into this café that we wanted more than a platonic relationship.”
“We wanted something more permanent.”
“But—”
Brice put his finger to my lips, shutting off my protest. “Let us show you how much you mean to us. How much we want you to stay with us and help us run our café.” He slid his finger away and pressed his lips against mine. Immediately my body responded, heating up to the point where I felt feverish. As Brice slid his tongue into my mouth, Claude kissed my neck and shoulder, and desire burned hot and deep in my core.
I slid my arms around Brice’s neck, and it was all the invitation they needed. The men tore at my clothes, fueled by a desperation I had never seen before. Brice’s kiss became more intense, breaking only so that he could slip his shirt over his head. Claude took off his clothes and mine, stripping me until all three of us were naked and needy.
Brice climbed up onto the counter and pulled me up beside him. “Kiss me.”
I did. I kissed him hard, filling him with all the pent-up passion I felt. As he leaned back on the counter, I climbed on top of him and moved so that his trim hips were in between my thighs.
Before I could break for breath, Claude knelt behind me. He placed his large hands on my breasts and squeezed, sending waves of pleasure through my bloo
dstream. I pulled my mouth away from Brice and gasped, loving the way Claude tugged and pinched my nipples. After helping Brice with the condom, he positioned himself at my opening, and before I realized what was happening, he thrust up hard in my core.
“Fuck.” I sank down on his length, loving the way he stretched my inner muscles. I straightened and began to ride him. The new position allowed Claude better access. Keeping one hand on my breast, he moved the other to my pussy. It didn’t take him long to find my clit, and when he did, jolts of pleasure raced up my torso, fogging my mind to everything but my own building need.
“Yes,” Brice said as he gripped my waist. “God, you look so beautiful.”
I bounced harder, faster. Soon it felt as if I was racing toward the end of the earth. Claude’s touch became rougher as he whispered encouragement in my ear.
“That’s it. Let yourself go. I want to see you coat his cock.”
Things were happening too fast, the sensations were too much. One minute I was racing toward the edge and the next I was over it, exploding into a million pieces in Claude’s arms.
“Yes, that’s it,” Claude soothed as my movements slowed. “God, you are so beautiful when you come.”
When the last ripples of euphoria faded, he let go of my breast and clit. Placing his palm in the center of my back, he pushed me toward the counter. Brice pulled me toward him and as our tongues met, I could sense the tension in his body.
“You didn’t orgasm,” I said.
“Not yet.” He skimmed his fingers over my jaw. “This is about you, not me.”
I felt something warm and slick between my ass cheeks. Turning, I stared at Claude, who seemed intent on what he was doing behind me.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Oil.” He rubbed a finger up and down my ass, then inched it into the opening. I gasped as a stretching sensation filled my core.
“Oh, my.”
“Relax, Brice said. “It will make things easier.”
Brice continued to kiss and whisper to me as Claude worked first one finger, then two into my backside. When he finally retreated, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss.
“Did you like that?” Claude asked.
