Desk Job (London Menage Book 2)

by Lily Harlem

“Stella.” Tristan was in front of me. “Are you okay?”

  A worried frown plowed across his brow.

  I pressed my hand to my chest. “Yes. Fine.” I gestured toward my shoe. “My heel has broken.”

  “Your heel?”

  In a flash, he was on his knees in front of me. He set one hand on my shin, his fingers pressing against my stockings, and with the other, gently removed my shoe. He frowned at the high heel which was hanging off, then set the whole thing aside.

  “Did you hurt yourself?” he asked, smoothing his hand to my ankle and cupping the sole of my foot.

  A tremble of awareness tickled up my leg. His touch was so delicate, so caring. “No. I don’t think so.”

  He swept his thumb over the curve just above my toes, left to right, then back again. “Sexy as these shoes are, you really shouldn’t put yourself in danger.”

  I giggled. It was a silly burst of noise from my chest. “I don’t think they’re too perilous.”

  “You could have hurt yourself.”

  He was still caressing my foot. Yes, that’s what it was, a caress. It was clear nothing was damaged.

  “Tristan,” I said quietly and curled my fingers around the arms of the chair.

  He didn’t reply. Instead he kept his gaze on mine. With his chin titled, he ran his left hand up my calf, settling it behind my knee.

  My breath hitched—he was all I could see, feel, think about…

  Damn, why does he have to be so sexy?

  His fingers were beneath the hem of my skirt. He skimmed them higher so they were resting on my lower thigh. My skirt wrinkled around his knuckles.

  I wanted him to feel higher, discover the pretty lace trim at the top of the stockings. Feel the heat of my skin, the soft satin underwear.

  He released my foot and rose so his face was level with mine.

  His pupils were huge, his lips so kissable. He was breathing as fast as me.

  “Stella,” he whispered.

  “Yes?” Heat from his body poured onto my chest, radiating through the fabric of my blouse. I could smell him, my hands itched to feel him.

  “I’m going to apologize in advance for this … but I can’t help myself.”

  He ran his hand around the back of my neck, his fingers slotting into my hair, and pulled me closer. He pressed his lips against mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as he dragged me to him.

  I released a groan of longing. He tasted exactly how I’d imagined—dark heat and man, a hint of coffee.

  Releasing my grip on the chair, I grasped his shoulders. Beneath his cotton shirt was hard muscle. Damn, why was that shirt in the way?

  He moaned into my mouth as he stroked over the top of my stockings, tracing the lace with his fingertips.

  He kissed with the same skill and intensity as he approached his work. I surrendered to it. Allowed him to whisk me up into a heady soup of lust.

  Could we? Here?

  Fuck.

  What am I doing?

  I tore my lips from his.

  He didn’t stop kissing me and traveled his lips over my cheek to my neck.

  “Tristan.”

  “Mmm, Stella. You’re so fucking sexy. You’ve got me crazy for you. All week … how you look, talk, hell the way you walk…”

  “No…” What about Andre? “But.”

  “No, buts. Please, no buts.” He cupped my cheek and looked into my eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” I pushed at his shoulders and tore my gaze from his. “I can’t.”

  He tugged his hand free of my skirt and stood, releasing me. A flash of disappointment went over his face and I couldn’t help noticing a large bulge behind his zipper.

  “Forgive me.” I stood, and in a strange, limping gate, rushed to the ladies’ restroom. I pushed through the door, then stood at the sink, staring into the mirror at my smudged lipstick.

  My mind was swimming. What the hell was going on with me? I was a one-man woman. I never cheated. I didn’t two-time. That wasn’t who I was.

  But Andre and I were hardly in a relationship. We’d had a night of fun. We were going for lunch tomorrow.

  It was the start of something.

  But I wanted to start something with Tristan too.

  I liked him, more than liked him. I wanted him. I wanted his body, I wanted his mind, I wanted the special smiles that he seemed to save just for me.

  “Stella. Please, come out.”

  I glanced at the door. Tristan had opened it a fraction, though I couldn’t see him and he couldn’t see me because it opened in the opposite direction.

  I didn’t answer.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s not your fault.” I reached for a tissue and tidied my smudged lipstick.

  “Clearly it is. Please, come out here and let’s talk this through. I can explain.”

  “Explain?”

  “Yes.”

  I ran the cold water and put my wrists under the flow. It was as if a fire were burning inside of me.

  “I promise you, Stella, there really is no reason to be so upset.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do.”

  I turned off the water. He knew nothing.

  “Please … otherwise I’ll come in there and get you.”

  I didn’t doubt it.

  I went to the door. As I reached it, my broken shoe emerged around the small opening. The heel appeared reattached.

  “I fixed it.”

  “That was quick.”

  “I’m known for efficiency.”

  Of course he is.

  I took it and, with one palm placed on the wall, slipped the shoe back on.

  “It probably won’t hold for long. But it will get you home,” he said.

  I opened the door fully.

  Tristan had one hand against the frame, his elbow locked. When he saw me, he released it and straightened.

  “Thank you.” I stepped past him. “For fixing my shoe.”

  “Stella, let me explain.” He gripped my upper arm and spun me to him, not roughly but not completely gently either.

  My breath hitched as I looked into his earnest face.

  “There is nothing to explain, Tristan. I like you, really I do…” And yes, given the chance I’d roll into bed with him in a heartbeat. He was someone I wanted to get to know better in every sense of the word, much better. “But I’m seeing someone.”

  His eyebrows twitched, then he nodded. “I know.”

  “How … But…?”

  “Andre.” He kind of shrugged then released my arm. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “How can it not be a big deal? He’s your business partner.” Damn, had Andre told him everything, the way I’d wondered if he had?

  “He’s more than a business partner. He’s my best friend. We’ve been through the good and the bad times together and you…”

  “Me?”

  “We’d definitely like you to be the good times.”

  “I’m not following…” I patted my hair, it was messy at the back from where he’d ran his fingers through it. “Why did you kiss me if you knew I was seeing Andre?”

  “Because I know he won’t mind, not in the least.”

  “How do you know that?” Most blokes I knew would mind very much if another guy kissed the girl they were seeing. “Is he missing the jealousy gene?”

  Tristan gave a twisted smile. “Oh no. I can’t imagine he’d want anyone else touching you, kissing you, but me … well that’s different.”

  “How? Because you’re friends, because you’re close?”

  “That and…”

  “And what?”

  “Well…” He shifted from one foot to the other. “We decided a while ago that we needed a personal assistant to share, one person who understood what the other was doing so that our diaries and commitments didn’t clash.”

  I nodded. I understood that.

  “And we also decided…” He hesitated.
>
  I wondered what the hell he was going to say next. I hadn’t known Tristan to be anything other than super confident but he was standing before me now, slowly gathering words. “What did you decide?”

  “That not only do we want to share a PA, we also want to share a woman.”

  “Share a woman?”

  “Yes. Our love lives are in a sorry state, neither of us able to invest the time and energy into a long term relationship to make it work, but we figured—”

  “That you’d share me.” I widened my eyes. That was exactly what he was saying. “That you’d both have me in your bed?”

  “Well if you want to put it like that … yes.” He reached for my hands and took them in his. “But more than that, more than sex. We both want romance, love, companionship. Individually, we’re a dating car-wreck, but together.” He squeezed my fingers. “Together we could keep one woman happy, content … satisfied. We just need to find the right woman.”

  “I don’t think that’s me.” I shook my head.

  “How do you know? You like us both, that much is clear, and hell, we’re both crazy for you, already.” He held my arms out to the sides and scanned my figure. “How could we not be? Look at you, you’re every man’s dream woman.”

  I could hardly make sense of the words he was saying. He was actually suggesting I have a relationship with both of them. “I don’t know…”

  “You don’t have to give an answer now. Think about it.”

  “I don’t know if there is anything to think about. It’s too…”

  “Unconventional, yes, I agree it is. But it’s also a solution to all of our problems.”

  “Your problem, not mine.”

  “Oh, but it is yours.” He released my hand and slid his palm up my arm until it rested on my shoulder. He moved in closer, his eyes heavy with intensity.

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because you like us both.”

  I couldn’t deny that.

  “You and Andre have already hit it off and baby…” He brushed his lips over mine. “I just felt the chemistry between us. We’d be off the scale hot between the sheets. You know that as well as I do.”

  “That might be so, but maybe I’ll choose just one of you.” I tilted my chin. “Maybe I’ll choose Andre.”

  “That’s your prerogative and I can’t deny that wouldn’t hurt me, because it would.” He stroked the back of his fingers down my cheek. “But the simple fact is, you don’t have to choose, you can have us both.”

  My heart raced. I was hearing what he was saying but I needed time to process it. “What about Andre?”

  “He feels the same as me.”

  I shook my head and stepped back. Did Andre really have the same plan in mind as Tristan?

  He released me and dropped his hand to his sides. He’d drawn his eyebrows low, and the sullen expression had returned, but now it only enhanced his brooding good looks.

  “I … I need to speak to Andre. For all I know, you could just be saying this.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He appeared astounded by the suggestion. “What would I possibly have to gain from that?”

  “I don’t know … I don’t know anything.” I turned. “I have to go.”

  “Okay, but please, think about it. It’s not something we’ve done before.”

  I paused and spun back to him. “And what does that mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. You’re the first woman who’s caught both of our eyes, that we could both imagine being with.”

  “I tick all the boxes, you mean.”

  “If that’s your definition of perfect, then yes.” He tipped his head and gave me a crooked smile. “Think about it. That’s all we ask.”

  “Like I said, I need to speak to Andre.”

  “Of course. I’ll have him call you.” He pointed at my shoe. “Catch a cab home.”

  Gingerly, I walked to my desk and scooped up my bag. The heel felt fine, though I was careful with it.

  Tristan watched me as I pulled on my light jacket. He had his arms folded over his chest and his feet slightly parted. His eyes were dark, his mouth a straight line. I wondered what was going through his mind.

  Had he expected me to strip naked, throw myself at him and say what a wonderful idea it was?

  Wonderful idea?

  My thoughts were like bullets rattling around a barrel. I wanted Andre. I wanted Tristan, too.

  Maybe it was a wonderful idea.

  I gritted my teeth and walked past him, praying his repair job on my heel wouldn’t fail me. Each step hurt a part of me inside. I didn’t want to walk away from Tristan. Everything about him called to me. I wanted him, desperately.

  But Andre, too. I wanted Andre.

  Confusion ruled and I breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped into the elevator and the doors closed.

  Have two men? Two boyfriends? Two lovers? Could I? Would I?

  I pulled out my phone and fired a text to Sian:

  We need to talk

  Within seconds she replied.

  What’s up?

  I stepped into the lobby, flying my fingers over the screen.

  Pour a glass of wine, I’ll call in twenty. Double trouble!

  She messaged straight back.

  Tell me about it!

  I smiled. Thank goodness for friends who could handle any kind of drama.

  Lullabelle barely looked up when I arrived home, it seemed the last ray of sunlight from the west had become her best friend and she was sprawled on her cushion on the windowsill.

  I kicked my shoes to one side, dashed to the fridge and poured a glass of sauvignon. My body felt weird, as if being tugged two ways, and the same thing was happening to my mind.

  As I flopped onto the sofa, my mobile phone rang. Sian.

  “Hey babe,” I said. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine, busy…” she paused. “But fine.”

  “Sure?”

  She laughed. “Yes, but enough of me. What the hell is going on?”

  “Oh Sian, it’s so complicated. I’ve got the hots for two men.”

  “Okay, so which one do you prefer?”

  “I like them both. They’re both beyond handsome, in their own way, sweet, charming, passionate—”

  “How do you know that last one?”

  I hesitated. “I had a pretty amazing Saturday night with Andre.”

  “Andre, okay. So he’s good in the sack. What’s the other one called?”

  “My other … boss—”

  “Boss! Bloody hell, you’re fucking your boss?”

  “Er…”

  “What? Speak to me.”

  “Well I’ve fucked one, thinking about doing the other one pretty damn soon as well.”

  There was a moment of silence. Sian and I had been friends forever. Stunning her into silence was a rarity.

  A huge bellow of laughter came down the phone line. “Oh girl, go for it. Though I have to say one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Are they okay with you doing both of them?”

  “That’s what’s thrown me. They are. Well, Tristan says that’s the case. Apparently they want a woman to share as they’re both so busy running the company they think that would be the best option.” I paused. “I can’t believe I’m thinking about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well it’s hardly normal.”

  “Oh, sod normal. Normal is so yesterday.”

  “You sound like you’ve thought about this…”

  “I have.”

  “Why, what’s going on?”

  “A lot.”

  “With Coben’s friend, Edward?” I could hardly believe what I was starting to think.

  “Yes, with Ed. But that’s a face-to-face conversation, a big glass of wine and a long afternoon without interruption.”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  “Good, if that’s how you feel then give it a go.”

  “Give what a go?”


  “Ménage a trois.”

  “Ménage a bloody trois?” My mouth gaped so I filled it with wine. What the hell?

  “Yes. Two hot blokes, into you. If you like them give it a go, Stella, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  I stared out of the window at the pink and lilac streaks of sunset piercing the skyline. What was the worst that could happen?

  Chapter Ten

  I stretched out in bed, the cool cotton sheets heavenly on my legs. It was Saturday. No need to get up and rush about. Lazy day.

  What did I have planned?

  I sat bolt upright. Memories of the evening before rushed into my mind. I was having lunch with Andre. There was no way I couldn’t bring up my conversation with Tristan.

  And damn that kiss!

  I swept my fingers over my lips. Tristan would get a gold medal for kissing if it were an Olympic sport. It wasn’t solely his lips, it was the whole package. His urgent, no-nonsense way, the passion that was infused into the depths of his eyes. A shiver went up my spine at the thought of him naked, hard, getting ready to plunge into me.

  I snaked my hand down my belly, sought out the folds of my pussy and pressed against my most sensitive spot. I flopped back onto the pillows.

  Go for it, Sian had said.

  Really? Have two lovers?

  One thing was becoming clearer to me. I wanted to find out. I wanted to know what Tristan would be like in bed. Why shouldn’t I find out? There was no ring on my finger. Two men!

  But would Andre really be fine with it, or had Tristan been spinning me a story to get into my knickers?

  No, he wasn’t like that. It wasn’t the man he was. I knew already that he was a man of his word, a man of morals.

  And it did make sense. What he’d said. Neither of them had time to date. Why shouldn’t they share a woman?

  Me. I was the woman they wanted.

  I pressed harder, awakening my clit.

  Could I ever have imagined this?

  Two sexy men. Two hot guys who wanted me satisfied…

  “Oh God.” I shoved a couple of fingers into my pussy. I thought of Tristan and the way he’d kissed me the evening before with his hand sneaking up my leg, under my skirt. He’d tasted of everything I’d ever wanted and more. He was one sexy man who’d been hot for me.

  Who was willing to share me.

  I bucked my hips, building myself up to orgasm. Images of Tristan, his lips damp, his eyes heavy with lust, hovered before me. I could only imagine what his body was like beneath his clothes—hard, muscular, strong…