Dirty Pleasures [Pleasure, Montana 10] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Melody Snow Monroe

  She still couldn’t believe how the benign motorcycle ride had excited her. Wrapping her arms around the sexy and powerful Dylan had actually woken something up inside her she’d long thought dead. And here she’d chastised John time and again for his crazy ways.

  She never wanted to be attracted to an adrenaline junky, but these men might be able to make a believer out of her. Hell, maybe it had been the shower that had improved her mood. She was warm and clean, which went a long way in helping her change her mind about these two.

  As for cutting the fish, no she didn’t relish doing the job, but it was too good of an opportunity not to tease Dylan. Sure, she didn’t like sticky hands, and being plastered in mud wasn’t something she’d sign up for, but she wasn’t OCD about it—okay just a wee bit.

  Besides, they both acted like they’d figured everything out about her and that was so not true. She liked challenging a man and keeping him on his toes.

  The putrid fish smell brought her back to the task at hand. With practiced ease, she chopped and sliced the trout. “The consistency of this fish is really nice. Where did he get them?”

  Gabe laughed. “Dylan didn’t tell you?”

  Maybe he wanted to keep it a mystery. “No.”

  “There’s a really nice river not far from here.”

  Was he joking? “You’re telling me Dylan caught these?”

  He stopped his chore of deboning the fish. “We’re into self-sufficiency. We’re off-grid kind of guys and let Mother Nature provide us with electricity. During deer season, Dylan brings home one or two for us to live off of for the winter. The property came with a large terraced garden, but I have a black thumb and killed everything.”

  “A garden? I love to plant things but my house has no land. Maybe if I ever move, I’ll buy a bigger plot and try again.” She put down the knife and held up her hands.

  Gabe glanced down and quickly deboned the rest of the fish. “Why don’t you wash up? I won’t tell Dylan about your secret.”

  “Secret?” He nodded to the fish and she laughed. “Got it.”

  She scrubbed her hands a few times to get rid of the fishy smell, but nothing worked. Aargh.

  Gabe picked up a lemon and sliced it open. “Hold out your hands.” She didn’t understand what he was planning, but she obeyed, and then watched as he dribbled lemon juice over her fingers. “Rub them together. It’ll take away the fish smell. Then wash them.”

  She followed his procedure and when she brought her hands to her nose, the offensive smell was gone. “That’s cool.”

  The bedroom door opened and a very clean looking Dylan walked out. His wet, slicked back hair made him look like a gangster instead of a good ole boy. She bet being able to alter his appearance helped in his line of business.

  He walked over, surveyed the meal then looked at Gabe. “Good job.”

  Without saying anything, Gabe turned on the broiler then lined a cookie sheet with aluminum foil, dripped coconut oil on top, and placed the filets on top.

  She didn’t want to be served, as she wasn’t that kind of princess. “What can I do?”

  Gabe smiled. “You said you were good with green things. How about making the salad?”

  Dylan opened the funny-looking fridge and pulled out tomatoes, lettuce, and a cucumber and placed the items on the counter. “Here’s a knife and a bowl.”

  It wasn’t summer yet. “Where did you get these?”

  “Pack & Save?”

  She laughed then washed all of the items first. “You have a cutting board?”

  The small center island that was on wheels had a butcher-block top, but it was probably laden with germs.

  Dylan nodded to the island. “Just cut on that.”

  She spotted a roll of paper towels, ripped some off, and lined the island. Dylan’s brow rose and Gabe chuckled, but they let her do her thing.

  The men worked with amazing ease and liked to kid with one another, too. Looking back, it was a shame that Brooke and she were so different growing up. They could have had something like this if they’d tried.

  While both of them were hard-working students, Brooke was the shy one and rather self-conscious about her looks. Back in high school, Ceci was popular and loved being with her friends. Then she met John and her life changed.

  It was a bit ironic that it was Brooke who’d found her dream men and Ceci was stuck in a morass of guilt. Her sister trusted her men and had given them her heart. Ceci was happy for her.

  “You okay, baby?” Gabe placed a hand on her arm.

  She hadn’t meant to sigh. Whoops. “Yes. I was just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  She hadn’t expected to hear such concern in his tone. “The past, that’s all.” She grinned and stepped closer to the stove where Gabe had been sautéing the vegetables.

  “Got it. The past stays in the past.” He let go of her arm and picked up the pan off the burner. “For now.”

  Shit. Usually it was Dylan who always wanted to know exactly what she was thinking and why.

  Dylan handed her three plates. “The silverware is in the drawer next to the sink.”

  That was her cue to set the table. When they’d each finished their chores, they settled around the table. Dylan then brought out two thick candles that were well used, lit them, and turned off most of the lights.

  “Saves energy.”

  Had anyone else used that line, she’d not have believed him. With these two, she did. “It’s nice.” And romantic—though that might have been their plan all along.

  The men dug in and she followed suit. The first bite of the trout had her mouth watering. “This is amazing.”

  Dylan grinned. “Thanks. You ever fly fish?”

  She lowered her chin. “Do I look like I’ve ever fly fished?”

  They both laughed. “But you wear a protective suit so you can stay dry and don’t get dirty.”

  Now they were pulling her chain. “Do you use bait?”

  “Nope, just lures.”

  That didn’t seem so bad. “I heard it’s a difficult skill to master.”

  Dylan puffed out his chest. “Yeah, but with a little bit of practice and a great teacher, you could get good.”

  “I’ll leave the fishing to you. What if I caught a fish? It would be wiggly and struggling. I’d have to toss him back.” She couldn’t keep the grin from taking over her face.

  “You wouldn’t if you were hungry.”

  Dylan was good at playing along with her. “You have a point.” But until that time, she’d stick to the supply in the grocery store.

  Gabe scooped out a big portion of the salad she’d made and dumped it on his place. “How about hunting? Any interest in taking down a deer?”

  While they ate what they caught, she thought it savage. “If I have a hard time killing a fish, a deer would be worse. They have feelings. Besides, you have a gun and that poor animal is helpless.”

  Dylan smiled and shook his head. “That’s why I use a bow and arrow. It makes it more of a sport. There are so many deer that they’ve become a nuisance.”

  “It’s still a no.”

  Gabe reached out and placed a hand on hers. “What do you like to do, baby?”

  Eat ice cream, watch romantic comedies, and read. “Nothing that will get my adrenaline pumping.”

  Gabe sat back up. “So we can’t talk you into bungee jumping or sky diving.”

  At the mention of sky diving, her heart pinched. That’s what John wanted to do, and when she tried to talk him out of it, they’d fought. “No.”

  It really wasn’t fair that they got to ask her all the questions. She faced Gabe. “What got you into motocross racing?”

  “Pleasure has a course nearby. Besides, it makes me feel alive.”

  She could see that. “Are there other things you do for the rush?”

  He studied her for a moment. “A lot of them.”

  Ceci shrugged. “I’m always afraid to take chances.”

  G
abe placed his hand over hers. “That’s okay. It’s not for everyone.”

  He really hadn’t addressed his need for the rush. “I guess what I’m asking is why do you have a need for such thrills.”

  Gabe’s face sobered, almost scaring her in its intensity.

  “Gabe?” Dylan asked.

  “It’s okay. I want her to know.”

  She wasn’t sure she did want to hear, but if he asked, she’d tell him that she understood about demons. “I’m listening.”

  “I had an older brother named Craig.”

  Her heart twisted at the word “had.” “Is he dead?” She held her breath.

  “I’m afraid so. Craig was my older brother by five years. He was the best old brother anyone could have. He taught me how to ride a bike, how to handle a horse, and how to fish, though I’m not as good as Dylan here with lures.”

  She smiled. “Sounds like he thought you were the best little brother.”

  “I’d like to think so.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “Craig was all about living in the moment. I think his philosophy rubbed off on me.” His voice drifted off.

  “How did he die?” A lump formed in her throat. Somehow she got the sense Gabe needed to talk about it.

  “Craig had already served one tour of duty when I enlisted. I wanted to be just like him.”

  “I bet your parents were proud.”

  He leaned back again and a hint of a smile surfaced. “My dad was a diehard Army man. Fuck yeah, he was proud.”

  “Did you have any other siblings?”

  “No.” He dragged a finger under his nose and sniffed. “Anyway, we both did one tour, though not together. When Craig first came back, he seemed the same, I guess, except that he’d been a paratrooper and couldn’t get enough of jumping out of planes.”

  Her stomach turned queasy over where this was headed. Now she didn’t want to know the details, but if he wanted to tell her, she’d listen. “Did he take too many risks?”

  “Yes and no. I think he wanted to feel alive.”

  “Is that how he died?”

  Craig shook his head. “No. We both signed up for a second tour. A month before we were to return, he was killed by enemy fire.” She hadn’t expected the thin smile. “Craig was a hero, his unit told me. He lived life like tomorrow would be his last day.” He faced her. “I want to be like that.”

  “I wish I could be like that.”

  Now he did smile. “You could be, if you tried hard enough.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Okay, if jumping out of planes isn’t your thing, how about playing cards?” Gabe said. “That’s safe.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or trying to find something she really would like to do. “Cards are good.”

  Neither answered as they went back to chowing. They better not be thinking about playing strip poker.

  You’d love it.

  She, too, concentrated on her meal, which tasted better than anything she’d ever eaten. She hadn’t meant to moan, but each bite was almost orgasmic.

  When they finished, she jumped up. “I’m cleaning up, as you boys cooked.”

  “Boys?” Gabe puffed out his chest and she couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Men, then.”

  “That’s better, but you don’t have to clean up. You’re our guest.”

  So they did think of this as a date. Well, she was beginning to, too. She really was blown away by how easily Gabe opened up. She hadn’t expected that from him. Not only that, these men were considerate, aware of some of her quirks, and didn’t try to change her—though they seemed to want to get her out of her comfort zone.

  Well, if they knew her comfort zone was not having sex or getting involved, they were doing a good job. Too many times tonight, she’d been tempted to see what these men would do if she hinted she wanted to satisfy her curiosity about being with both of them. Pleasure, Montana was well-known for its ménage lifestyles, though no one batted an eye if a woman decided to date only one man or another woman.

  Maybe it was because Brooke seemed so happy that Ceci wanted to dip her toe into the dating game again. So far, though, all the men she’d met in Pleasure since her return had backed off as soon as they learned she was well-educated, came from a fairly wealthy family, and dealt in financial matters. It was like she was too dominant for them when in fact she wanted nothing more than to let the man lead.

  Be truthful. Okay, maybe she had put up a barrier to keep a man out. For the last year, she’d fought the idea that she was lonely and wanted children. She tried to convince herself that once she made enough money in the market, she could relax and enjoy life, but Sarah said she was lying to herself, and Ceci was beginning to believe that might be true. Bottom line, she was scared—scared she’d turn her back on the man she loved and it would kill him.

  Dylan pushed back his chair. “We’ll all help. When you work together it can be faster and more efficient. You like efficiency, right?” Dylan stepped in front of her and ran a finger down the label of her shirt—or rather his borrowed shirt.

  He’d seen the way she multi-tasked when he stayed with her and he seemed to want to prove to her that he understood her. “Yes.”

  He grinned. “Then let’s clean up so we can enjoy dessert.” He held her gaze longer than was necessary.

  The double entendre was clear. At least she hoped he was suggesting some extracurricular activity.

  They knew what she did for a living and the kind of car she drove yet that didn’t seem to bother them. There probably wasn’t a woman alive who could dominate them. These men were the take-charge kind. She wanted a strong man, one who knew how to find happiness, but she feared it at the same time. Men this good looking and self-confident were the type to take her heart, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that because once they really learned what kind of person she was, they’d walk out and she didn’t think she could handle getting her heart broken again.

  Gabe and Dylan were good men on the inside who wouldn’t misuse her trust, but then again, John hadn’t misused it either. In the end that’s what had killed him.

  Stop thinking about John. He’s dead—but he wouldn’t be if you hadn’t left him.

  Dylan ran his hands down her arms. “Sugar, I think we need to talk.”

  She glanced up at him. He was hovering close, his brows pinched. “About what?”

  “About what’s bothering you. Sometimes you space out and have this tragic look on your face. I can see the pain slicing across your eyes. Talking about it can help you heal.” He ran a knuckle down her cheek, causing delicious shivers to distract her once more.

  Gabe moved next to her. “I told you my dark past. It helped form who I am today.”

  She’d not talked about her part in John’s death to anyone. And you’ve not healed. Maybe it was time to let go, but even if she told them what had happened, the guilt would never really go away. Damn. She was so conflicted.

  Dylan ran a hand down her arm. “How about if we do dessert first and you can tell us all what’s going on in your head?”

  At least he didn’t say her “pretty little head.” If he had, she might have asked him to drive her back to her car immediately.

  The problem was that after she told them, they might not want to be with her.

  That’s the chance you have to take.

  Chapter Six

  Dylan lead her over to the sofa while Gabe ducked into the kitchen. She sat on the middle cushion so both men would have room. Dylan lifted her hands and twisted to the side to face her.

  “Whatever you say here stays here. Okay? Gabe and I don’t judge.”

  They might. Just tell them. “I’ve never spoken the words but I’ve gone over that night about ten thousand times and each time I come to the same conclusion. I was stupid and selfish.”

  What she dreaded happening, did. Her eyes watered. Dylan looked up and must have nodded to the pile of napkins on the table, because Gabe walked over with one a
few seconds later. “Thanks.”

  She dabbed her eyes. This was why she’d told no one other than the shrink. Even then she’d left out a lot. She really wasn’t ready for another emotional upheaval.

  Dylan squeezed her hand. “Hold that thought. We have something that might help.”

  Gabe walked over with a bowl of ice cream in each hand, and her heart fluttered. “Is that what I think it is?” Cookie dough ice cream!

  He handed her the biggest serving. “You sent me out to buy the damned stuff a couple of times if you recall.”

  She laughed. “That’s because I was upset and you wouldn’t let me leave the house.”

  “That’s right. We wanted to protect you.”

  He could have said it was his job or any number of things, but with the way he phrased it, her heart melted. These were special men. They cared, and that was a rare trait indeed.

  Gabe winked. “Be right back. Hold the story.” He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the last bowl then returned. “Okay. Go.”

  She took a bite, and the rich creaminess brought her instant comfort.

  Gabe jumped up again. “Wait.”

  His antics had her laughing. He pulled open a drawer, grabbed a towel that was rather dingy and ragged around the edges, wet it, and placed it on a plate. He returned. “In case your fingers get sticky.”

  At that gesture, she leaned over and kissed him, cold lips and all. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me.”

  Dylan pressed a hand on her thigh. “I bought the ice cream this time.”

  She laughed. “Okay. You both are wonderful.” They’d accomplished the impossible of getting her out of her immediate funk. She kissed him, too. It was their first kiss and a bolt of electricity ran from her lips straight down to her pussy. She pulled back and swallowed hard.

  He cocked a brow. “I felt it, too, Wall Street.”

  His nickname made her smile. “Before I lose my courage, I might as well tell you all about me.” Then if they didn’t want her and drove her back, she might be able to recover.

  They hurriedly jammed the ice cream in their mouths, probably so they could give her their undivided attention, but when their eyes widened, she fell for them even more. Then suddenly they opened their mouths and sucked in a big breath.