Violet’s hands moved on autopilot, following the familiar path of muscle beginnings and nerve endings. Mrs. Delfin’s words struck her to the core. When she picked out clothes to wear it was always muted tones that covered her and assured that she would blend into the crowd. Certainly never clothes that would display her curves or call attention to her.
In her teens she had bought one form-fitting shirt in a daring hot-pink color and endured her sister Penny’s hissing remarks about being a slut. She might have found the strength to continue to wear the shirt except her father had been very disappointed when he saw her and asked her to change into something that didn’t make her look so cheap. It didn’t matter that skinny and svelte Penny had a closet full of tight clothes, she never wanted to see her father’s disappointment directed at her again.
She didn’t wear that much makeup because she didn’t want to draw what her mother termed as “the wrong kind of attention”. Instead the attention she did attract were men like her ex, men who tried to control every aspect of her life. Why she had dated such men in the first place was a whole ’nother can of psychological worms that she didn’t want to open up right now.
The music switched over to a sweet and light strings piece as Mrs. Delfin said, “Your beloved should be someone who builds you up, makes you a stronger person. Together, you should feel like you can go anywhere and do anything. Most of all they should make you feel cherished and safe.”
Clearing her throat, Violet moved down the bed to work on Mrs. Delfin’s feet. “How do I walk now?”
Mrs. Delfin smiled. “You walk with your shoulders back and your head held high. Whoever this gentleman is, he’s managed to convince you that you are worth loving.”
Guilt pierced Violet’s chest. Carlos and Morgan did make her feel cherished. It was in their eyes, in the way they touched her and always made sure she was comfortable and happy. With Carlos she had not only amazing sex, but an extremely smart man who could debate with her for hours over differing viewpoints and never have to resort to cutting her down or making her feel stupid to prove his point. He told her all the time that he loved her mind, loved that she was so intelligent and yet compassionate. Come to think of it, he was always telling her the different things that he loved about her.
When she was with Morgan the world seemed to go from being a scary place to a playground. He took her to art museums and answered all of her questions with endless patience and she always found herself laughing while she was with him. He radiated joy and brought much needed warmth to her life. In the bedroom he was a force of nature, as irresistible as the tide. Dominant and demanding, he pushed her boundaries and left her an exhausted, utterly happy mess.
She knew she should choose between them, pick one amazing man over the other and not string them both along. After all, they wouldn’t accept her dating both of them forever. Even though they claimed to be cool with it, she had noticed their unhappiness when she told one she couldn’t make plans with him because she had a date with the other. They never pressed her or pressured her, and that made her feel all the worse.
Never in a million years would she have been able to do what they were doing, so selflessly giving her the room and time to decide. Just the thought of either of them being with another woman made rage boil in her veins. To make matters worse, she honestly didn’t know which man she liked better. If it wasn’t impossible, she’d say she was falling in love with both of them. The thought of never seeing Carlos or Morgan again made her heart ache and her mouth dry. Even worse was the thought of how badly she would hurt them if she didn’t make a decision soon.
“What…” Violet swallowed the shame that threatened to choke her and continued. “What if there are two men that make me feel that way?”
Mrs. Delfin’s laugh was that of a much younger woman, still filled with light and life. “Do they know about each other?”
“Yes.” She sighed and ran her thumb up the arch of Mrs. Delfin’s foot. “They are both so nice about it. Neither one pressures me to choose, but I can feel their unhappiness about the situation.”
“Clever men,” Mrs. Delfin said in a murmur. “I’m willing to bet that neither is thrilled about you seeing the other, men are such competitive creatures, but they don’t want to be the first one to raise a stink about it and take the chance of losing you.”
Violet considered that thought. Could that really be why Carlos and Morgan hadn’t said anything? Were they afraid she would use it as an excuse to leave them? “But I have to choose one over the other. It isn’t fair to string them both along.”
“My advice.” Mrs. Delfin smiled. “Mind you, this is the advice of a woman who was married to the love of her life for forty-eight years but did her fair share of courting, is to take your time. You’re still in the first blush of a relationship, where everything is new and fascinating.” Her tone turned mischievous. “If you decide that you love both of them, buy a house big enough for all of you and consider yourself blessed.”
“Mrs. Delfin!” Violet said with a shocked giggle.
“Dear, I’ve lived through war, the sexual revolution, and watched the world change around me into both a better and a worse place. In that time I’ve seen just about every kind of relationship you could imagine. Did you know that one of my sons is married to another man in Hawaii? That they have adopted two beautiful children together and are raising them in a home filled with love?”
Mrs. Delfin struggled to turn over on her stomach and Violet helped her with a gentle touch. “You amaze me.”
“Love is God’s most precious gift and I would never insult him by thinking that I know better than he does. When you reach my age, you realize how very short life is and how easily it can be wasted. Don’t waste this chance, Violet. Grab after it with both hands and hold on.”
The bones of Mrs. Delfin’s back protruded through her thin skin and Violet warmed the oil in her hands before spreading it over her back. “I’ll try.”
Mrs. Delfin sighed in pleasure as Violet found a knot and began to work on it. “Don’t try, do.”
* * * * *
Carlos struggled to swallow the rage that threatened to choke him as he glared across his heavy oak dining room table at Morgan. “Fuck you.”
Morgan sneered at him. “No, fuck you!”
The smooth and cultured female voice of their agent, Ms. Hanley, cut through the air from the speaker phone. “No, gentlemen, fuck both of you.”
Both men gritted their teeth and turned their glare on the phone. Carlos wisely kept his mouth shut, but Morgan was never one for tact. “Listen, Ms. Hanley, this is a—”
“This,” the smooth voice interrupted him with enough chill to frost a beer mug, “is a clusterfuck. You two are supposed to have an entire exhibit at the fundraiser that I begged, borrowed and stole to get you ready in three months. Yet I have not one new piece from you. Not one!”
The shriek in her last word had both men wincing and Carlos tried a more tactful approach. “I told you we’d be ready.”
“Really?” Her voice took on a sweet, purring tone. “Because when I talked to Morgan an hour ago he told me that you didn’t have anything ready for me, and probably wouldn’t for a while.”
Carlos glared at Morgan, who tightened his lips and glared right back. Over the past week they’d barely spoken a single word to each other that didn’t end in a yelling match. At the center of their fights were Violet and their increasing jealousy of each other. They had both fallen for her, hard, and resented any time the other spent with her.
Last night Carlos had gotten drunk on good whiskey while he imagined all the things Morgan was doing with her. He’d shared women with Morgan before, but they had always been casual dates more geared toward sex than anything else. It was one thing to watch a submissive give his best friend a blowjob while he fucked her, it was another to imagine Morgan falling asleep with Violet in his arms. To be honest, the thought of watching Morgan work Violet over with a flogger aroused him. It w
as the shared intimacy that he wasn’t a part of afterward that made him mad.
He had learned that Morgan got to go to Violet’s house last night, the first time either of them had been invited. Hurt and anger had eaten away at him until he barely recognized himself. To his irrational heart it was a clear signal that Violet liked Morgan better, even though she had invited him to her house for dinner this weekend. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would be able to detect signs of Morgan there, if by being in her house first somehow Morgan had marked it as his territory. The thought of doing anything other than beating the shit out of Morgan was impossible. As a result of the tension between them their work had ground to a halt.
Morgan said, “We’ll have something for you by the end of the month.” All the while flipping Carlos off with both hands.
Ms. Hanley’s voice sliced through the air like an ice pick. “Look, I don’t care if you two have PMS, are having a lovers’ quarrel, or want to kill each other. You will pull your shit together and act like responsible fucking adults that conduct themselves in a professional manner or I will take both of your fucking candy asses to court and sue you for breach of contract. Am I clear?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Carlos said and Morgan snickered.
“Glad we’re all on the same page. Don’t fuck this up.”
She hung up and Morgan jabbed the phone with his finger. They sat in silence, staring at each other. As Carlos studied Morgan he felt his anger ease back a bit. “She is such a bitch.”
“Bet she’d make a great Domme.”
They both laughed and some of the stress leaked away. Carlos took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “We can’t go on like this.”
Morgan gave him a wary nod. “I don’t like not being able to talk to my best friend.”
“And I don’t like wanting to kill you.”
“So what are we going to do about it? ’Cause I’ll tell you what, I’m not giving her up.”
Carlos fought back the instinctive surge of territorial anger. “I’m not giving her up either. In fact, I think I’m falling in love with her.”
“We are so fucked.”
“That about sums it up.” Carlos drummed his fingers on the table. “She’s going to find out we know each other, eventually.”
“I thought about that. If-when she chooses one of us, it’s not like we’re gonna stop talking to each other…right?”
“No, but our window of plausible deniability is getting smaller and smaller. We may be able to make her believe we don’t know each other, but a couple of months, heck, even a couple of weeks from now that excuse won’t hold water.”
“Yeah,” Morgan said in a miserable voice. “She’s so smart, and she can see real clearly—if that makes any sense.”
“It does.” Carlos grinned at Morgan. “She can see right through people’s bullshit to their heart. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not around her—”
“Because she notices and makes you feel like a moron for trying to be someone that you’re not.”
Carlos considered Morgan. With his rough good looks and big, football-player body it was often easy to forget that he actually had a very tender heart and shared Violet’s ability to see to the truth of people. Now that he thought about it, Morgan and Violet shared a lot of the same characteristics. No wonder he liked her so much. “I love you like a brother, but I can’t be the bigger man here and back off.”
“I love you too, but there is no way I’m giving your ass a get out of jail free card on this one either.”
“So we’re back to square one. Two men in love with the same woman.” Carlos tilted his chair back on two legs and sighed. “I thought about making her break up with you, but I think it would really hurt her. You obviously make her happy. Kinda in the same way a big, dumb golden retriever would make a person happy, but happy nonetheless.”
“Yeah, well you seem to make her happy too. Like the way a neurotic and self-centered cat makes a person happy.”
“Touché—asshole.”
Morgan rested his head into his palms and mumbled, “This would be a lot easier if we were Mormon.”
Carlos shook his head and laughed, “The vast majority of Mormons don’t practice polygamy anymore, it’s more of a fringe element thing. Besides, I think it’s the Mormon men that get lots of wives, not the wives that get lots of men.”
“Maybe she’d be open to the idea of a harem?”
“She doesn’t strike me as the harem type. Before us, her life was disturbingly vanilla and she dated the biggest dickheads.”
“Like her ex, the douche bag. He pulled a major mind-fuck on her and made her feel worthless. I still can’t believe that he called her fat. What kind of fuckwad would say that to someone as gorgeous as her?”
Carlos said in a bitter voice, “Don’t forget her family, they certainly helped her believe that she deserved nothing better than her ex-fiancé. Her mother actually told her to lose twenty pounds and try to get him back. I know it’s not fair to judge them without ever having met them, but they sure as hell didn’t do much to raise her self-esteem. If I have to hear one more time about how her father wouldn’t approve of her clothing choice—”
“Or how her older sister is so much prettier and smarter than she is—”
“I’m going to puke.”
They sat in silence for a few moments before Carlos said, “Though, now that I think about it, I don’t hear much about her sister anymore. Last week I actually managed to get her to watch herself in a mirror while we had sex without getting nervous or acting ashamed.”
Morgan gave him a small glare, but nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. She argued with our waiter last week when he brought her the wrong meal. When I first started dating her she would have eaten it even if she hated it because she wouldn’t want to cause a fuss.”
Carlos stood and went into the kitchen, grabbing them both a beer out of the fridge. He returned to the dining room and slid one of the amber bottles over to Morgan. “Think we should tell her that we know each other?”
Morgan took a drink from his beer and sighed. “I feel like such a fucking coward, but no, I don’t think we should. I think if she found out she’d be so embarrassed that she’d leave us both high and dry. I’m making progress with getting her to think outside the box in the bedroom.” He ignored Carlos’ growl and continued. “But I think she’s still too afraid of offending someone to be anything but polite and conservative in public.”
“I have a date with her tonight.”
Morgan’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “I know.”
“What if…” Carlos took a long swallow of his beer as Morgan drew patterns with his finger in the condensation on the side of his bottle. “What if we both dated her?”
“Uh—aren’t we already doing that?”
“I mean at the same time.”
“You mean like a ménage?” Morgan gave him a cautious look. “Dude, I like you but I don’t like you, like you.”
Carlos snorted. “Have you talked about her fantasies with her?”
“Of course. What kind of Dom would I be if I didn’t find out what makes her purr?”
Carlos took a deep breath and tried to calm his overactive emotions and nerves. There was one way, highly risky and very unconventional, that this could work out for all of them. He was going to take a huge gamble, but if it paid off they could all have exactly what they wanted. If it didn’t he was going to regret it for the rest of his life, but never give up trying to win her back. “I have an idea.”
Chapter Eight
Violet leaned against the edge of the granite countertop in Carlos’ kitchen. She was barefoot and in a pair of comfortable jeans with a new navy-blue silk shirt that Carlos had bought for her. It wasn’t very tight, but the loose collar slid down over one shoulder and exposed an almost indecent amount of skin. She had kept tugging at it until Carlos told her he would chain her hands if she didn’t stop.
The raw steak si
zzled as it hit the oiled cast-iron pan on his stove. A second joined it and she took a deep breath of the spicy scent of roasting herbs. “That smells fantastic.”
He smiled at her and tugged her forward, capturing her lips in a hard and demanding kiss. Her body instantly heated against his as she kissed him back with abandon. There was no worrying about using too much tongue, or not enough with him. He controlled their kiss, directing her in what he wanted and how he wanted it, all the while melting her bones until she became wobbly kneed with desire.
With a last nip at her lower lip he pulled back with his eyes dark with passion. “Thank you. There’s a bottle of Pinot noir in the wine closet, would you grab it and pour us both a glass, please?”
“Sure.” She opened one of the many cabinet doors in the kitchen and marveled at how well she knew his home. She knew how he liked his coffee, and he knew about her morning craving for cinnamon rolls. On the counter next to the sink sat a big white bakery box filled with confections from Eastern Market. After placing two crystal wineglasses on the counter, she uncorked the wine and let it breathe for a moment while watching him cook.
His thick, dark hair was slightly mussed from their first kiss at the door when she had been unable to keep her hands off him. When she was away she found it hard to believe that she could be so instantly attracted to someone, but every time she saw Carlos something switched on in her body and she became almost wanton with need. It was the same with Morgan and she worried that she was turning into a nymphomaniac, or if it was like Bethany said, she’d been deprived of good dick for so long that her body was trying to stock up.
That thought made her snicker as she filled the wineglasses and he arched a brow as he flipped the steaks. “Care to share the source of that giggle?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks and she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Hmmm.” He took the glass and studied her over the rim. “Has anyone ever told you what a beautiful laugh you have?”
“No.” She ran her toe over the grout lines in the slate floor as his compliment burned through her blood like good brandy. “Though I did laugh so hard I choked on a piece of blueberry pie at our family picnic one year. A blueberry shot out of my nose and hit my Aunt Penelope on the chin. My dad still teases me to this day, wishing he had video of it because we would have for sure won ten thousand dollars on that funny video show.”
Blushing Violet Page 9
