A Daring Journey: The Dare Menage Series, Book 6

by Jeanne St. James

  “You carry it around with you?”

  “Yes, I do home visits since I don’t have an office yet.”

  “Yet,” Mac echoed.

  “I just got back to town a few weeks ago. I’m still settling in.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Not here.”

  He appreciated it when she only nodded and didn’t ask anything further. He stepped back and gave them some space. “Get your wine. I’ll take the tea with a little stevia if you have it. And I’ll go set up my table. In the living room?”

  “That’s fine. But I don’t have any cash. Would you take a check?”

  One corner of his mouth pulled up. “I’m not charging you. I figured we could get to know each other better while I worked.”

  “But can’t I just sit in a chair while you work on my shoulders?”

  Now the other corner of his mouth curled up. “I don’t do things half-assed. I don’t think your problem is just your shitty office chair. I think I caused some of it by showing up and ruining your morning with Damon. Since I’m to blame, I’d like to be the solution.”

  When she opened her mouth to argue, he lifted a hand to stop her. “Just let me do this for you. Please.”

  Her lips flattened, and she nodded. So, before she changed her mind, Trevor hurried out to the car to get his stuff.

  Mac couldn’t stop the groan as Trevor’s fingers, palms, heels of his hands, his elbows and who knew what other parts of his body he was using worked her muscles.

  Holy shit. She hadn’t had a massage in ages. Why? Why had she deprived herself of such bliss?

  Probably because the last massage she received, she had used a discount coupon and the therapist caused more discomfort than relief.

  But Trevor...

  Oh, he was an expert with his hands. It wasn’t as if she’d had a lot of massages in her life. She hadn’t. She’d seen it as a luxury she normally couldn’t afford. But with the few she did have, the massage therapists were all women.

  It wasn’t on purpose, that’s just how it was.

  But oh...

  Trevor.

  His hands were large and strong, and he knew how to work her just right. She had turned into jelly. The only part that had hurt was when he worked out the knot at her shoulder area. That had been a little torturous. But he did that first and now the rest...

  Was heaven.

  So. Much. Heaven.

  Her eyes had drifted closed. She wasn’t sure if any bones were left in her body. And she was ready to marry this man.

  Her body hummed with his expert touch as he worked her for what seemed like hours. She knew it wasn’t but... How did his hands not tire out?

  Had Damon gotten massages from him on a regular basis? She was so freaking jealous!

  He had set up his massage table in her living room, covered it with sheets, turned on some soothing music using a portable player, and then told her to get totally undressed. But if she was uncomfortable with that, she could leave her panties on.

  She didn’t. And she was glad she didn’t. He had even massaged her upper thighs and glutes.

  And while she knew there was nothing sexual about his touch, she had felt a couple twinges where she probably shouldn’t have.

  She had heard men could get erections during massages and she was no better. Her nipples were beaded tightly, and another area was begging for some attention.

  Which was totally inappropriate.

  Sooo inappropriate.

  But still...

  Gah! No, “still” nothing. It was inappropriate to want his strong, long fingers to bring pleasure in other ways.

  Right now, she was still lying on her stomach and he was massaging her feet.

  Another groan slipped from her.

  Damn. Who would ever think getting her ten piggies and the arch of her foot massaged might cause an orgasm?

  If she did, she was going to have to hide it.

  She had no idea feet were an erogenous zone. She was definitely scheduling a foot massage every week for the next fifty years. Or hundred. Whatever.

  She bit back a whimper in disappointment when he finished and covered her feet back up with one of the sheets.

  Then he was at her side.

  She opened her eyes reluctantly and stared up at the tall, very handsome man who had magical hands and wore a crooked smile.

  She wondered if he was gay or bi.

  No. No. No. Totally inappropriate!

  “Are you okay?”

  “You have no idea just how okay I am,” she slurred. Damn. She’d had only a couple sips of wine before she’d climbed onto the table. She couldn’t be drunk.

  Then she winked at him.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  She needed to rein her reactions in.

  She pulled her arm out from under the sheet and quickly rubbed her offending eye. “Something in my eye,” she mumbled.

  “Do you need a minute?”

  With her vibrator? Yes.

  “No!” She winced at how loud that came out. “No. I’m... good.”

  His gray eyes twinkled, and his mouth twitched. “Okay, then... Time to turn over.”

  Oh. Wait. He would notice how hard her nipples were if she did that.

  He leaned over her and with both hands, grabbed the edge of the sheet on the opposite side to where he was standing. “I’ll hold it up while you turn towards me. I promise not to look.”

  While he held one side of the sheet up, she shifted down a little, twisted quickly and settled onto her back. She peeked at her chest.

  Yep. Her nipples were like little rockets ready for take-off.

  Trevor moved to the end of the table and removed the headrest, putting it aside.

  “Do you mind me doing your scalp? It’ll mess up your hair.”

  She tipped her eyes to where he stood. He was upside down, but it gave her a good view of his strong jawline covered in a short beard. The wiry hair was a little darker brown than the hair on his head.

  He wasn’t just handsome. He was gorgeous. He had a great smile, beautifully expressive gray eyes and those fingers...

  “My hair is a mess, anyway. I don’t care.”

  He curled a long strand of her hair around his finger. “I love the color. And it’s not a mess. It fits you.”

  “Because I’m a mess?”

  Mac found herself mesmerized by his laughter. “You’re not a mess. Damon doesn’t like messes.”

  “Is he a neat freak?”

  “No, he’s not anal about it, but he likes to stay organized. When he comes home from work after being gone for days, he doesn’t want to come home to a disaster area.”

  “I could understand that.”

  Trevor began to massage the top of her head with the tips of his fingers. It felt as good as getting her hair washed at the salon. Though, this view was so much better.

  As her eyelids got heavy, he started talking. “I didn’t say much when you were on your stomach because I wanted you to relax, but I really do want to get to know you better.”

  “Yes, that’s right. Size up the competition.” This time she was kidding. Sort of.

  He shifted his fingers to her face, massaging her forehead, cheeks and chin in circles.

  “Damon’s a good man,” Trevor started.

  “In the little time I’ve known him, that’s easy to see.”

  “He didn’t say how long you two have known each other. He just said it was ‘new.’”

  “It is. It’s only been just over a week now. He was the pilot on my flight back into Boston. But we both belonged to Boston Singles. He saw me there first.”

  “What’s that?”

  Heat bloomed in Mac’s cheeks. She should have left that part out. Her lips were as loose as her muscles. “A dating app.”

  His fingers paused. “Damon was on a dating app?”

  Mac didn’t know what to say to that. Trevor moved on from her face to her neck and shoulders.
His expression was carefully blank.

  “Did you expect him not to date or have sex ever again?”

  Trevor’s fingers slowed, and his eyes met hers. “No.”

  “He thought you were gone for good, right?” Before Trevor could answer, Mac asked, “Did you abstain those five years you were gone?”

  Trevor’s jaw tightened, and he began to make big sweeping motions over her upper chest above the sheet. Mac sucked in a breath because the pressure was a little too much.

  Mac could actually see him mentally shake himself. “Sorry. Let me know if this pressure is okay.”

  “It’s fine now. You don’t need to continue if you don’t want to.”

  He hesitated again. “You don’t want me to?”

  “Oh no, I do. This is the best massage I’ve ever had.”

  Trevor smirked. “I have skilled hands.”

  That he did.

  Every time he got closer to the edge of the sheet above her breasts, her nipples ached.

  Why was she so in tune with his touch? She’d never been this way with the rest of her massage therapists. She wasn’t into women, could that be why? But then her gynecologist was a male and she didn’t react oddly to him. In fact, she counted the seconds until he removed his head from between her jacked up thighs.

  Maybe it was because he used to be Damon’s lover and she could picture them together. Hmm.

  The air rushed from her lungs as his fingertips skimmed along the top edge of the sheet, just where the upper curve of her breasts started.

  What was wrong with her? She wanted nothing more than to shut her eyes and fantasize about Damon and him together while Trevor’s hands touched her everywhere.

  Maybe she should tell him to stop.

  He pulled one of her arms out from beneath the sheet and after adding more massage oil to his palms, started to sweep them up and down the length of her arm. He stopped suddenly and raised her arm up higher.

  “Wild. You have a freckle right there.” He brushed his thumb over the same freckle Damon had kissed only this morning.

  “It’s Damon’s,” slipped out before she could stop it. She cringed. Shit! Loose lips were dangerous!

  “What?”

  Heat rushed into her cheeks. Again. She hadn’t blushed so much in a long time. “That’s Damon’s freckle. He claimed it.”

  Trevor dropped his head to hide his expression, but Mac didn’t miss the sadness cross his face.

  Not jealousy. Not anger. Sadness.

  His heart was aching.

  She had dated off and on in high school and college, and even over the last decade, but not once had she fallen in love with a man. Not once. She loved the idea of it, finding your soulmate, not bearing to be apart from that one person who made you whole, but she never had it.

  She had dated some real dicks. Alpha-holes as she called them. They wanted to do nothing more than boss her around and rule her life.

  So she couldn’t imagine feeling a deep love for a person and then losing that person. Granted, Trevor was the one who walked away, but she could only imagine it was for a good reason. Otherwise, why would he be back if he and Damon had not been compatible or had fought, or one of them had cheated? No, Trevor left for a reason and came back hoping for a second chance with a man he still loved.

  And Damon admitted he still loved Trevor, too.

  They could potentially be soulmates.

  Why did she feel like she was standing in the way of the two of them getting back together? She shouldn’t. She should just tell Damon to go with his heart and accept Trevor back. Mac didn’t want to continue with Damon only to always be wondering if he was thinking about, or missing, Trevor. Or regretting pushing him away.

  No, she needed to tell Damon she was the wrong choice for him.

  Trevor finished massaging her right arm, then moved around to her left. They remained silent while he did so.

  A few minutes later, he uncovered her left leg and tucked the sheet in between them. While he was doing so, she could feel the heat of his skin in between her thighs and her pussy clenched hard.

  She stared at the ceiling and willed herself to stop reacting to his touch.

  At least sexually.

  This is not appropriate. Her actions. Her thoughts...

  She needed to think about fruit or vegetables. Or even the weather. Anything to distract her.

  “Trevor,” his name came out a little raggedly. “Damon needs to give you a second chance.”

  “That would be up to him.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  His fingers kneaded and worked the muscles in her upper thigh. She fought a groan.

  “No, I didn’t come here for that. And if Damon finds out I came here...”

  “Why did you come here?”

  “Honestly, to get to know you. To see if you’re right for Damon. I’m willing to walk away if you are.”

  “And if it’s your opinion I’m not?”

  “Then I’ll let Damon decide.”

  God, he was rubbing right there. She was having a difficult time thinking. “Trevor...”

  “Hmm?”

  “Why does he have to decide at all?”

  Trevor’s fingers stilled. “What are you saying?”

  Mac pushed up to her elbows and quickly caught the sheet before it slid off her chest completely. “Why can’t we decide for him?”

  Trevor’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “I’m lost.”

  “Why should either of us not explore what we have with him? Give him time to figure out what he wants. Give us time to figure out what we want. I mean, it’s new for me, too. We aren’t exclusive. We’re not even really dating. We were heading that direction, it seemed. But again, I have no idea if I’d even want anything serious with him.”

  “I think in time you would.”

  “Maybe you’re right. But as I laid here I was thinking, what if I’m with Damon and he always regrets letting you go? Wouldn’t you wonder that, too? If he ended up with you, wouldn’t you wonder if he regrets never giving me a chance?”

  “This is whacked.”

  Mac smiled. “I know. I think my brain is mush from your massage.” She flopped back down on the table and stared up at the ceiling again. “Trevor.”

  Suddenly he was there, at her head, staring down at her. “What?”

  “Do you want to hear something messed up?”

  “Is it hot?”

  “Yes.”

  His lips twitched. “Then spill it.”

  “This whole time with you touching me...” Damn, she blushed way too easily! “I liked it.”

  He grinned. “I could tell.”

  “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

  “Mac...”

  “And that’s not all.”

  He arched a brow as he stared down at her, his face directly over hers. Suddenly it felt like an inquisition.

  “Spill it,” he whispered.

  “Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured you and Damon...”

  “Doing what?”

  “You know what.”

  “Does that turn you on?”

  She nodded.

  “Have you been with bi men before?”

  “Just Damon.”

  “But not more than one?”

  “At a time?” she squeaked.

  “Yes.”

  “No. Damon’s the only bisexual that I know I’ve been with. You haven’t mentioned if you were bi or gay.”

  “That’s not something I normally announce when I walk into someone’s home.”

  “I would hope it’s not important enough for someone to know that you would need to do so.”

  “Well, in this situation...”

  “This situation isn’t typical. And your answer may determine how we proceed.” She pushed herself to a seat once again, pinning the sheet to her chest.

  “Damon and I have the same taste.”

  “In men?”

  He nodded. “And women.”


  Excitement swirled through Mac. What she was suggesting was a bit crazy...

  Trevor studied her. “I just need to get something straight. Are you talking about Damon dating us at the same time but separately? Or dating us at the same time. Like the three of us together at the same time.”

  She pressed the hand not holding the sheet to her hot cheek. “I don’t know. But that did enter my mind.”

  “Are you interested in me? I mean, you’ve known me for like an hour.”

  “I was interested in Damon after five minutes.”

  Trevor laughed. “So was I.” He tilted his head and looked thoughtful. “I never shared a lover before.”

  “We don’t have to sleep together. I’m thinking just spending time getting to know each other.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You don’t want to sleep with me?”

  Damn. Heat blisters were going to appear on her cheeks soon. “I think you’re very attractive.”

  “And I’m good with my hands.”

  “There’s that, too.”

  “I mean, we can date and hang, then move forward if we find that we’re sexually compatible. There’s no rush, right?”

  “Right,” Mac agreed.

  “I’m sure threesomes can get complicated, though. Is it possible not to be jealous?”

  She wasn’t sure how that all worked when it came to possessiveness, jealousy and not having favorites. But she did know a few experts in that department. “I have a friend...”

  Trevor made a noise.

  “No, not like that,” she quickly said. “She has two brothers.”

  His brows shot up almost to his hairline. “You’ve been with them?”

  “No! Give me a chance to explain.”

  Trevor nodded but stayed quiet.

  “Both are bisexual.”

  “Both?”

  Mac arched a brow at him. He lifted a hand. “Sorry. Continue.” Then he made the motion of locking his lips closed and throwing away the key.

  If the situation wasn’t so serious, she would’ve laughed. “Both of her brothers are in relationships that are... I’m not sure what you call them...”

  “Ménage à trois?”

  “Yes, but they’re serious relationships. Committed. Like one threesome recently had children. They’ve made families.”

  “It happens.”

  “Really? You know some?”

  “Not personally, no. Is this what you’re suggesting?”