by Marla Monroe
I can’t believe I’m seriously thinking about having sex with two men at one time. What’s wrong with me?
* * * *
Rissa smiled at Tony. So far, he’d been the perfect gentleman with her over the last two times they’d gone out. Tonight, she’d invited him up to her condo for a nightcap. She didn’t intend anything to go any farther than a little necking to see if he appealed to her on a sexual level.
Her dreams about Jethro and Deacon had become hotter and hotter with each subsequent one. She’d even started going to bed a little earlier just to see where her dreams would take her next. She was becoming obsessed with the two men, and spending time with them while they renovated her building wasn’t helping matters.
I need a distraction, and maybe Tony can bet that for me.
Or maybe not.
So far, she wasn’t the least bit attracted to him sexually. Still, how could she be when they hadn’t done much more than chaste kisses good night? Tonight, she’d see if there could be anything more between them or not. If not, then she needed to end their relationship before he began to read too much into it.
“Whiskey neat, right?” she asked, handing him the glass.
“Thanks, that’s right.” He took a sip and smiled. “That was a nice party tonight.”
“It was. Leah always has a nice one when she entertains. She knows how to invite the perfect group of people who get along well. That’s part of throwing a great party though. Inviting the right mix of people,” she told him.
“I guess I never thought of it like that. I just figured when you had a party, you invited all your friends and acquaintances whether they might get along well or not.”
“Most people have two different parties. One for business with specific people and one for pleasure with friends and relatives. Some even have three to get those hard-to-deal-with people that you still have to remain friends with.”
“I always find out something interesting when I’m with you, Rissa. Smart and gorgeous all rolled up in one delicious package.” Tony leaned closer and kissed her. The taste of the top-shelf whiskey flavored the slow kiss. He pulled back and smiled down at her. “Let’s have a seat on the couch. I bet your feet are killing you in those heels.”
As lines went, it was a good one. Rissa smiled and nodded. She slipped out of her heels and relaxed on the couch next to him. He pulled her closer after setting his whiskey on the end table. His brown eyes smiled down into hers as he lowered his head and kissed her.
And it was just a kiss. Nothing mind-numbing or fireworks-inducing about it. She tried, she really did, but she felt nothing.
Pulling back, she smiled and reached for her wine glass. “I’ve really enjoyed the evening, but I need to get to bed. I have an appointment with the builders first thing in the morning.”
Tony’s face fell, then a mean look raced over his features before it disappeared, making her wonder if she’d imagined it in the first place. He stood, picked up his whiskey, and downed it in one gulp before handing her the glass.
“I understand. Maybe another time then,” he said.
Rissa could hear the light anger tinge to his voice. She hadn’t imagined that look at all. He was just good at disguising it.
“Maybe. Thanks for taking me to the party. I really did have a good time.”
“Just not good enough,” he said, no hint of the gentleman he’d seemed earlier.
“Tony. There’s just no spark between us. I don’t see how stretching things out would do any good and would only make breaking it off later that much harder,” Rissa explained.
“You really are a cold fish like Brad’s been telling everyone.”
“He’s what?” she snapped.
“He says you were so frigid that you never come. I can see he wasn’t wrong.”
“That’s an outright lie.” Rissa wasn’t about to get into an argument concerning their sex life, as pitiful as it had been. Still, she didn’t like it that the man had been spreading rumors. Now she had no doubt Tony would be adding to them.
“Then why are you kicking me out after only one kiss? Tell me that, Rissa.”
“Because I deserve more than this,” she said, waving her hand between them. “I’m sorry, Tony, but we obviously don’t have anything more to say to each other.” She walked over to the door and opened it.
The second he was gone, Rissa collapsed on the couch and broke into tears. Why did it surprise her that Brad was spreading rumors like that? Why hadn’t anyone told her what he was saying?
Because they believe them and love having someone to talk about so it’s not about them.
Rissa rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands then started to hurl the empty whiskey glass at the wall but stopped. Neither man was worth the cost of a crystal glass. In fact, they weren’t worth the tears she’d spilled either.
She set the empty glasses in the sink then picked up her shoes and walked into her bedroom, where she undressed and spent a good twenty minutes washing off the makeup and doing some routine skin care to make her feel better. She showered then lotioned up her body and pulled on her favorite PJs before curling up in bed with her e-reader to lose herself in one of her favorite author’s books. She’d downloaded several ménage books just to see what it would be like, and was loving the story lines.
In the books, the men equally loved the women and didn’t fight over her. They treated her like a queen and made her the focus of all their attention. She loved losing herself in the books, but knew in her heart that it wasn’t like that in real life even if there were ménage relationships.
Rissa wasn’t a prude. She knew all about the fringe circles where some of her acquaintances dabbled in the forbidden or played around with drugs, but it wasn’t something that had ever appealed to her. She wasn’t into bondage or drugs or orgies. It did, however, look as if she had a healthy interest in a ménage with Jethro and Deacon. She was just as sure that it would never happen since she couldn’t see those two men sharing anything. They were much too…she tried to think of the right word, but all that came to mind was masculine.
It doesn’t hurt to wish though. I would love to find out what it would be like to be the filling between their hard, naked bodies.
Rissa set aside her reader and snuggled down in the covers to see what erotic dream her mind could come up with this time.
Chapter Eight
Rissa hadn’t lied. She’d had an appointment with the guys to look over the countertops that had come in for the kitchen. They wanted to be sure she was okay with them since they’d ended up a little darker than what they’d expected. She’d agreed to meet with them at seven before the workers arrived at eight.
Jethro had said there was no reason for them to come in if they couldn’t work on the kitchen until the right countertops were in. They would wait on his call that everything was a go. She yawned then sipped at the coffee chosen for the day. Salted caramel mocha. It tasted wonderful and went a long way to clearing some of the cobwebs from her brain.
The dream from the night before had been super-hot with both men taking her at the same time. Jesus that had been wild. Evidently double penetration was possible since she’d have sworn it had been real when she’d woken up soaking wet. She must have actually come during the dream.
As soon as she was sure she could safely drive, Rissa poured her coffee in a stainless-steel travel mug. The trip across town didn’t take nearly as much time as normal since it was so early in the morning. Why would anyone want to get up this early on purpose?
She yawned again as she climbed out of the SUV and grabbed the hard hat along with her coffee. She plopped it on her head and walked over to the front door. She pulled out her key to unlock it, but the door was thrown open by Jethro.
“Hey, we’ve been watching for you,” he said.
“Thanks.” She couldn’t help the yawn. She really wasn’t used to getting up that early.
“Sorry for the early hour, but we don’t want to call the guys
in to work if the counters aren’t going to work for you,” Jethro said.
“That’s fine. I can always catch a nap if I don’t wake up.” She smiled. “Where’s Deacon?”
“He’s upstairs. He’ll be down in a second.” Jethro put a hand at her lower back and urged her toward the center of the room. “Here’s the countertop.”
The overhead lights lit up the huge slabs of granite lying across what she now knew were sawhorses. Next to them was a cabinet that would also be going in the kitchen.
“Got them.” Deacon emerged from the stairwell carrying several pieces of drywall.
“Great. Let’s show her what everything will look like together so she can make up her mind.”
“Hey, Deacon,” she said.
“Hey there. You look like you’re not quite awake yet. Think you need to walk around some before you make a decision like this?”
“I’m good. What am I looking at?” she asked.
“Okay,” Jethro began. “This is the granite that came in. It’s a shade darker than what you gave us to go by. Look at it along with the cabinet color and these colors that will be in the kitchen. This is the backsplash that Deacon’s holding. Do you think it all looks okay together, or do we need to send something back?”
Rissa looked at all of it. Then she circled all of it a few times. It looked fine except she thought they’d need to go a shade lighter on the paint. The wood would be fine with the granite as long as the paint that tied it all together was lighter. If it didn’t look okay, she would easily send it back and demand the right shade, but it really wasn’t that far off. She was happy with it if they could get the paint the color she wanted.
“Well?” Deacon asked as she circled the entire example for the fourth time.
“It will be fine except the paint needs to go a shade lighter. Do you think they can do that?” she asked.
“That’s what we thought, too, but wanted you to make the decision,” Jethro said.
“They can lighten the paint without too much trouble. I’ve already gotten them to fix a couple of samples for you to look at.” Deacon turned over the other piece of drywall and showed her.
She immediately pointed to the middle one. “That’s the right one. What do you think?”
Both men nodded. Jethro smiled. “You’ve got excellent taste.”
She smirked. “Is that because it matches yours?”
Jethro laughed. “There is that. So, how about some breakfast? We’re going to run to the diner down the road. Want to join us?”
“What about the men?” she asked. “Won’t you need to be here?”
“They’ll come in at eight and know where to start. We don’t hire men we can’t leave unattended for a while. Every one of them knows that if they don’t do something right they’re tearing it out and starting over,” Deacon said.
“Then I’d love something to eat. I’m starved. I didn’t eat anything before I came,” Rissa said.
“We can take our truck if you don’t mind a little dust,” Jethro said.
“Dust hasn’t hurt me so far. Besides, I can always take another shower.” She smiled up at them.
“Let’s go.” Deacon’s voice sounded rougher than normal.
Rissa couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t used to getting up that early either. But then they were normally there at seven according to Jethro. She didn’t have a clue why he sounded like that.
Jethro helped her into the front seat of the truck then slid in next to her so that she was sandwiched between the two men. He hadn’t been wrong, it was dusty, but in good shape. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was just the work truck and they had something nicer at home. They were well paid for the work they did. She couldn’t help but think that they dressed down for work but would clean up nicely if they ever had occasion to put on something other than muscle-revealing T-shirts and dirty boots.
The diner proved to be just what she’d have expected. There was a long counter with bar stools across one end with booths on the other side and tables in the middle. They chose a table toward the back. The waitress was dressed in a thigh-length skirt and blouse with an apron covering it all.
“What can I get you guys to drink?” she asked.
“Coffee, black for us. What about you, Rissa?” Jethro asked.
“Orange juice and water please,” she said. Rissa doubted they had flavored coffees there.
“Be right back.” The woman swished off, obviously making an effort for the guys.
She couldn’t blame the woman. They were good-looking and built like Greek gods. If they weren’t working for her, she’d have been preening for them as well. In fact, she was making plans already for the second she signed off on their work. If she hadn’t decided that already, she’d just finalized her plans. Yep, she’d see if they were interested, and if they were, she was so going along with them.
The waitress returned with their coffee and her OJ and water. They gave her their order with Rissa settling for two fried eggs, bacon, and grits. She hadn’t had anything so decadent since her mom had died and Cook had left them. She’d loved fried eggs and grits, though very few people cooked grits unless it was shrimp and grits at one of the finer dining establishments she’d frequented.
“Have you ever had grits?” Deacon asked when the woman had gone to put their order in.
“Yes. I love them. I don’t get them anymore though. The cook that worked for us fixed them for me all the time,” she told him with a grin. “Bet that surprises you, doesn’t it?”
“Sure as hell does. I never would have guessed. Grits aren’t really a staple of someone like you,” Deacon said.
She frowned at him. “What do you mean someone like me?”
She felt Jethro kick out at the other man. She had to bite the inside of her lips to keep from smiling over that.
“Just that you’re probably used to better meals than what you get at a diner. Wasn’t trying to be rude or anything.”
“That’s fine. You’re right. If it hadn’t been for Cook, the only grits I would have had were with shrimp at Marcell’s. They serve it there. The only time I have fried eggs now is if I fry them up myself. This is nice.”
“They have great breakfasts here. You’ll have to try my pancakes,” Jethro said.
“I doubt I’ll have room if I eat all of my breakfast,” Rissa told him.
“Nonsense, you can try one bite. They’re delicious.” Jethro sipped at his coffee.
The food arrived in record time. She wondered why it took so long at any restaurant she normally frequented. Even the bistros where they ordered salads or paninis seemed to take forever. The diner was just as busy.
She took a bite of her eggs and hummed her appreciation. “Perfect.”
“Here, try the pancakes before you get too far into your breakfast.” Jethro held up a forkful saturated with syrup.
Rissa laughed and opened her mouth. He fed her the delicious food. “You’re right. That is good. I can’t order everything though. I’d be as big as a house and not able to move for a week.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try things though. Wait until you taste those grits,” Jethro said.
“You look good just like you are. Another pound or two sure won’t hurt. Eat up,” Deacon said.
Rissa ate every bite of her meal. It had been delicious, and now she was not only awake, but having a great time talking with the two men. They were amusing as hell and treated her like an equal and not some piece of fluff to make them look good. She liked the way they made her feel about herself.
“I can’t wait for the upstairs to be finished so I can move in,” she said.
“The next thing that has to be done before you move in is new locks and an alarm system that’s better than the one you have there now. We’ll have the company we use come out and see what you need,” Deacon said.
“Why do I need new locks? I had those put in as soon as I bought the place,” she said, frowning.
“They’re fine for a
n empty building, but you need professional locks for the business and an industrial one for that back door where you’ll be getting deliveries. You’ll want cameras, so you can see who’s at the door before you unlock it,” Deacon told her.
“I guess I hadn’t thought about that. Do whatever you think is safest for me. How long will it take? I really want to move in as soon as possible,” she said.
“It shouldn’t take long. I’ll see if they can work on it while we finish up the upstairs,” Jethro said.
“Thanks. I’m so excited. Let me know the second you have a date, so I can arrange the movers. Will the elevator be ready by then?” she asked.
“The company gave the all clear on it last week. You can use it for hauling up furniture and your merchandise to the second floor. We’ll start work on the second floor as soon as you’re moved in on the third. I see that you have a fourth of the floor sectioned off into what look like offices,” Jethro said.
“Yes. I want my office up there and will leave the rest of the space alone in case I need it for something else later. The rest of the room needs to have shelving like I have outlined on the drawings to hold my merchandise that I’ll store there until I need it. The big thing about the kind of store I’m opening is that some of what I’ll carry will be consistent year-round while I’ll have some seasonal items that I won’t keep on hand from year to year. They might change. Turnover is important because the faster you move it, the more money you make. If you have to mark something down because it doesn’t sell, you lose out.”
“Well, don’t worry about the shelving. We’ll make sure it’s just like you want it. I’m glad to see none of it’s going to be more than a step or two over your head. You don’t need to try to pull heavy boxes down from up high.”
