Ménage Material [La Belle sans la Bete Ménages] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Akeroyd, Serena

  “Why is this so important to you?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’m not asking you to do this now. Not even in six months’ time. I want this to be the future. I want us all to be together. It’s the one normal thing we can do. Share a roof. Otherwise…” She sighed. “You can’t be happy feeling like the other person in a marriage. An extra cog in the works, when you’re an integral part. Why feel disjointed when you don’t have to be?

  “The way you pull away from Bastien…even tonight, I know how it is when inspiration strikes, but tonight was important, and what do I find when I wake up? Bastien’s asleep, and you’re in here, working. This was the first step toward everything you and Sebastien want. And when I asked him, he said it was you who pushed for a threesome, at first. It was you who raised the subject.

  “So, why are you pulling back?”

  “I’m not doing anything of the sort,” he retorted.

  “Yes, you are. You’re distancing yourself from us. I just don’t understand why.” She pulled a face. “Look, I don’t want to get into this. I just want you to realize I won’t let this go. It’s too important. Six months, a year, eighteen months, whatever…down the line, all three of us will live on the same property. Get used to the idea.”

  With that, she strode out of the lab. Ignored the beeping, humming machines that held answers to one of the deadliest diseases to mankind. She bypassed them all and returned to the bedroom, climbing carefully onto the mattress and placing her hand in Bastien’s, so as not to disturb him but still wanting a simple union with him.

  She stared at the ceiling, watching as the streetlamps glittered and flickered, and how beams of light would trace across the cornices in the ceiling, creating a miniature light display.

  She couldn’t say for certain how long it was before Alex returned to bed. She couldn’t put a number on the minutes, but it was just that. Minutes. At a guess, she’d say ten. Just enough for her words to penetrate the thick skull of her genius lover, and for him to climb into the bed beside her. The instant he lay down, he pulled her against him, and into his arms.

  She fell asleep like that, but a part of her consciousness knew Alex remained awake. His brain cogitating her earlier words.

  Once again, she’d discovered another sore spot. A point that acted as a trigger for Alex. One by one, she’d challenge them. One by one, she’d challenge him. Because for that sense of belonging, that unique knowledge, it was worthy of a bloody battle.

  Chapter Ten

  The next day, when Bastien awoke to the tangle of arms and limbs on the mattress, he grinned and leaped out of bed with a spring to his step.

  He was hard-pressed not to start whistling. The only thing that stopped him was the idea of waking the two sleeping beauties on the bed.

  God, life felt good at the moment.

  Really good.

  In fact, good was an understatement.

  As time passed, with Devvy and Alex’s relationship flourishing, he was only just starting to realize how hard it had been before Devvy knew.

  It was his own fault. He’d entered their relationship knowing he’d be telling lies to his wife for however long it took to enlighten her to the truth.

  He was well aware that made him a bastard.

  A bastard with good intentions, but nevertheless, he was fortunate Devvy had been so tolerant and so deeply infatuated with Alexei as a scientist and the man himself.

  Otherwise, he knew there would have been a completely different ending to this particular tale. He would be in Alex’s bed now, waking up to the realization that he’d pushed one of the best things that had ever happened to him out of his life.

  He’d be grieving now. Probably would have had a meeting with his attorneys scheduled, because she’d have set the divorce train rolling and he’d have no choice but to accede to her wishes, because he was to blame. For everything.

  Instead, he felt great.

  For the first time in a long while, he felt whole.

  Being with just one of them had felt as though he were splitting himself down the middle.

  He’d long since recognized that Alex was his soul mate. Alex, being Alex, was difficult and even though it hurt, Bastien knew the feeling wasn’t reciprocal.

  He wasn’t enough for Alex.

  He’d long since come to accept the pain of that, and was accustomed to the sting of rejection. He was loved by Alex, and that was enough. Truly.

  Throughout the years of their searching for a third, for him, he wouldn’t lie. The search had been tinged by bitterness. By the knowledge that he wasn’t enough for Alex and that his soul mate needed someone else.

  When Alex had found Devvy, seeming to have some kind of strange epiphany over a goddamn magazine article, Bastien had reluctantly agreed to meet up with her. For Alex’s sake.

  The instant he did, he realized a man could have two soul mates. Seemingly impossible, seemingly the truth.

  That first day, it was like being hit in the chest with the lightning bolt. Bang. Instant connection. Just like he’d experienced with Alex.

  From that very first moment, sharing himself between the two of them had been painful. Only now, when they were together, could he feel at ease.

  Before Alex, Bastien had thought love and soul mates to be bullshit. What guy in his twenties didn’t? Just like his peers, he’d thought with his cock. A cock that gravitated toward women. Until Alex.

  That first, life-defining moment had pushed away the clouds of bullshit, and made him see the truth of it. That love was real, that it hurt, and that it was wonderful.

  It could make you feel alive, and by the next breath, make you feel like death.

  It could fill you up, fill all the holes in your heart, and then leave you feeling empty.

  He’d never experienced as much as he had with Alex. Until Devvy.

  That feeling of fulfillment, of feeling lucky for Devvy’s forgiving nature and her crush, went with him through the morning.

  He left the two of them to sleep off the night before, knowing he’d be meeting Devvy for lunch later anyway, and went to work. A huge conglomerate was interested in La Belle sans la Bête and said interest had been causing a huge stink at the office.

  He’d been putting in extra hours to cope with the fallout of a hostile takeover, instigating safeguards to protect the company from other corporations.

  Then had come the goddamn decimation of one of his favorite vintages.

  Work, of late, hadn’t been the pleasure it had always been.

  He wasn’t so blind that he failed to realize the slippery slope had started when he met Devvy.

  Fulfilling dreams had a habit of changing your priorities. Work was getting in the way.

  That being said, he headed a meeting with La Belle sans la Bête’s lawyers and the financial directors. Plugging in the holes in the companies defense was taking far longer than it should have taken, but c’est la vie. He accepted the increased workload, and felt only relief to get out of the meeting with a small headache.

  Another dampener on his life at the moment.

  The headaches.

  As he strode down the corridor toward his office, ignoring the view and the palpitations that came with being thirty stories up and being acrophobic, scared of heights, he tried not to be too obvious as he rubbed his temples.

  The fact he was acclimating to the pain was perverse.

  Sighing, he entered his office, and immediately walked over to the windows to pull the blinds shut. The room’s darkness helped, but the ear-splitting screech of his cellphone ringing didn’t.

  It was his personal line so he didn’t grumble. In fact, hearing from either Devvy or Alex would undoubtedly cheer him up.

  Christ, he was turning into a real sap.

  He snorted at the thought. He already was a sap.

  Checking the ID, he grunted with disappointment that it was neither of them, then immediately felt guilty because it was his mother.

  Picking up
the cell, he murmured, “Bonjour, maman.”

  “Sebastien, mon petit, it is that time of the week.”

  His lips twitched. “Your weekly checkup call, hein?”

  “Yes,” she admitted cheerfully. “How’s the head?”

  “Fine,” he lied.

  “Still hard as ever, I see.” She sounded unconvinced. “It’s a wonder you suffer with migraines at all, considering it’s as tough as concrete.”

  “I’m fine,” he repeated.

  Her snort told him she didn’t agree. “Your voice changes when you lie, mon fils.” When he kept silent, but narrowed his eyes, she chuckled. “It does. You growl. Subconsciously, you’re trying to make the lie sound true, but I know you too well.”

  Ever since Suzette Jacques had retired, she’d started studying online courses. Anything from learning Mandarin to psychology classes.

  Sebastien and Henri, his father, had been suffering ever since.

  “I’m sure you’re right, maman, but I’m fine. Even if I do have a headache at the moment, so please don’t make a fuss. I really don’t need it.”

  She sighed. “The doctors have found nothing?”

  “They’re still looking,” he muttered. He didn’t suffer from a fear of small, closed-in spaces like Alex did, but that MRI scan had been tough work.

  He hoped to God he never had to go through one again.

  “Are you taking the medication?”

  “Sometimes.” At her tut, he grunted. “They don’t always work. Especially if I take them for every little twinge. I try to save them for the ones that make me feel ill.”

  From the back of her throat, there came a helpless catch. He knew if he wasn’t careful, she’d start crying.

  Suzette was the type of mother who blamed herself for what she viewed as his faults. It was her fault he had to wear contacts. It didn’t matter she had perfect vision and his father was the one with the specs. She blamed herself.

  When, at eight, some of his baby teeth had dropped out and crooked replacements had appeared in their place, she’d blamed herself and spent a small fortune on visiting an orthodontist.

  His grand-mère, the one that had led him down the path which would eventually lead to La Belle sans la Bête, said that Suzette blamed herself for the rain falling and felt guilty when it was windy.

  She’d been right.

  It was all out of love. He’d been a late child, appearing when his mother had been on the brink of turning thirty-five. In her day, that had been uncommon and she persisted on believing his faults came because she’d been an older mother.

  Her paranoia, for the most part, was sweet. Just not when he had a headache.

  “Maman, please do not worry. It’s work. That’s all.”

  “Of course, I worry! I’m your mother. It’s my job.”

  He’d never convince her of the alternative. He’d stopped trying. “If you say so,” was all he said, knowing she would be hurt if he tried to argue the difference.

  “How is Devina?” came the next question.

  Now, a smile creased his lips. “Marvelous, as usual.”

  She chuckled. “You might have scared your father and me by waiting so long to get married, but you chose wisely, cher.”

  “I know I did,” he replied, tone confident.

  “And what of Alex?” Suzette asked. She was treading cautiously, but there was no need.

  They might not speak every day, a weekly five-minute checkup call the most they connected, followed by a monthly in-depth one, but he tended to discuss these matters with her.

  A lifetime of motherly curiosity had made it a habit.

  Even as an adolescent turning adult, that difficult phase when kids hated the world and their parents, he’d still shared what he’d perceived as his woes with her.

  It had been an ingrained habit, one that had never died out.

  “He’s fine, too,” he said, as nonchalant as possible. Teasing Suzette was par for the course.

  She mumbled, “What did I do to deserve a difficult son?”

  He laughed. “It must have happened in a past life. You’re far too angelic to have done anything so bad.”

  “Stop teasing,” she retorted. “Tell me. Any closer to the goal?”

  She hadn’t approved of his marrying Devvy while remaining with Alex, but she’d understood Alexei’s frailties.

  That psychology course had come in handy, then.

  Being on the cusp of eighty-two, his mother should have been ultra-traditional. To a certain extent, she was. But, she’d spent most of her life trying to be youthful, trying to keep up with her young son. Forever feeling like the mature mother the hospital had labeled her, she’d done as much as possible to remain in the know.

  “She knows about him, maman,” he told her, his excitement finally bleeding into his words. It was the first chance he’d had to tell her, thanks to the chaos of the hostile takeover and the impromptu visit to the States, and sharing the news made more elation bubble through his veins.

  There was silence on the other end of the line. Cautiously, she asked, “Does she accept what you two want? It is rather unorthodox, mon fils. You must be patient with her.”

  His mind switched to his view upon awakening this morning. “I am, maman, never fear. But she is gradually coming to terms with it.”

  On the other end of the line, Suzette blew out a breath. “We’ll keep this between ourselves, Bastien. Your papa tries, but I don’t think he’d understand Alex’s need to have a ménage à trois…”

  He interrupted. “It isn’t just Alex’s need.”

  Not anymore.

  Another sigh. He knew she wanted to understand but couldn’t. It didn’t make her judge him. She loved him too much for that. “No, but still. It was hard enough when you brought Alex home that first time.”

  His father, now nearing eighty-five, had been a perplexed sixty-seven-year-old when Bastien had turned up at the house with a boyfriend.

  Bastien, once again, had been fortunate. His parents’ love for him was absolute. Henri had never ceased to be confused, but he accepted Alex, simply because Bastien loved him.

  Not that Suzette would have let it be any other way.

  Unlike his lovers, he was lucky. His parents loved him, regardless of his flaws, and they went out of their way to understand him.

  He was a bastard for being so distant. It wasn’t intentional. The last two years, he’d spread himself so thinly between work, Devvy, and Alex, he’d had little time to spare.

  He resolved to rectify that.

  It was hard to remember his parents’ ages, at times. They had both gone out of their way for so long to be young. To never come across as fuddy-duddies that it always came as a shock to realize they were elderly now.

  “How was I so lucky to have you for parents?” he muttered, more to himself than Suzette.

  She laughed, the sound belonging to a woman half her age. “The stork decided to be kind,” she teased.

  He smiled. “It was more than a kindness. I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting the two of you recently.”

  “You’re a busy boy,” she said, immediately defending him. “We understand that.”

  Her defense of him just made him feel guiltier. “Devvy and I will come for a visit. Soon. I promise.”

  “We shall look forward to it,” she murmured, sounding content. “And I’m glad Devvy understands, Bastien. I’d have hated for you to lose her. She is a good girl.”

  He eyed his computer, ignoring the hundreds of unread e-mails in his inbox, and settled back into his desk chair.

  “She is, maman. Don’t judge her for accepting us. She almost didn’t.”

  “Well, I’m not surprised she found it hard to acclimate to this new situation. But I’m relieved she didn’t walk out. I was around in the sixties, Bastien,” she retorted, sounding amused. “Far worse things went on back then, you know. I don’t judge her and I won’t. Not even your father would. He just wouldn’t understand. That’s all. And
I don’t want him upset.”

  “But you can handle it,” he teased, not even making it a question.

  “Of course! In time, you will realize Devvy is your backbone,” she mocked. “Just as all strong women are.”

  “She’d probably disagree. You know how self-effacing she is.”

  Suzette tutted. “With two men at her side, she’ll soon grow out of that.”

  “Maman! What are you implying?” His grin was so wide, his jaw ached.

  She sniffed. “You don’t all sit around watching television, do you, Bastien? I might be over eighty but I’m not an idiot!

  “No woman with that amount of physical attention, could ever stay shy! And that is all I’m going to say on the subject.”

  “Silence never was your virtue, maman. When do you go to Greece?” he asked.

  “Next week.”

  He grunted. “I’ll try to make it over before you go. If not, as soon as you get back I will. You’ll call me when you get there.”

  “Yes, cher,” she murmured, amused. “There’s no need to check up on us.”

  “There’s every need,” he countered. “What’s a phone call?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t miss our calls! Now, I have to go. Be a good boy, non?”

  “Never,” he retorted with a smile, easily using their code words for “I love you.” “Stay safe.”

  When she promised she would, he disconnected the call and immediately eyed the clock. He looked between the time and his inbox, hesitating over how long it would take to sort through them.

  Deciding it wasn’t worth it, he switched off the computer and asked his PA, Adéle, to call for his car.

  She handled his request with only a faint tinge of surprise in her voice. It was becoming a frequent occurrence for him to leave the office before he should. A perk of being the boss, he told himself. But he knew his love of the game had disappeared, and that was the reason behind his leaving earlier than he ought.

  As he made it out of the private elevator and into the lobby, he spotted one of his top chemists flirting with the receptionist.

  Lucian Davidson was a serial flirt. He’d worked his way through a few dozen skirts in his lab and down through the secretarial staff. For the most part, Bastien left him alone, even though Lucian’s man-whore ways, as Devvy would call it, had actually been brought to his attention by a few departmental managers.