by Sarina Wilde
Greer opened the door before her father could get there.
“Hi.” She smiled and took a nervous step back to let them in. “Come on in.”
Chas was already smiling, his blue eyes twinkling. Greer’s gaze shifted to Liam to find him smiling too. It softened his face, and the warmth in his gaze as it drifted over her made her feel flushed from head to toe.
The two men entered, ducking slightly to get through the low doorway of the old log house. Greer was suddenly self-conscious. Her house wasn’t as fancy as Liam’s, but it was homey with its wide-planked wooden floors and low ceilings. Her mother’s spinning wheel sat in the corner, a hobby she usually only engaged in during the winter months.
“I’m George Davidson.” Her father stepped forward with his hand outstretched.
Liam was first to do the meet and greet. “Liam Carle. My friend—Dr. Charles Lynch.”
He stuck out his hand. “Call me Chas.”
From the smile on her dad’s face, they’d made the right impression, whatever that was. Liam produced the employment agreement. Greer took a few minutes to look over it with her dad.
“Everything seems in order, honey,” her father said. She signed it and handed it back.
“I don’t have much to move,” Greer said, just a bit breathless. “It’s boxed up.”
Her mother came in, and the introductions repeated. Liam and Chas made an even better impression on her mother, who was by no means immune to the charms of two gorgeous men. “We do have a couple of pieces of furniture Greer will want to take.”
Greer held her breath. Liam eyed the drawing table curiously, but didn’t say anything. Even when they unloaded, all he asked was if she’d prefer it near a window. Greer nodded. No way was she talking about her art with him. In fact, she kind of wished she’d left her sketches at her parents’ house.
“Do you need help unpacking?” Chas asked, his fingers resting lightly on her upper back. She’d already noticed that about him. He liked to touch. What surprised her was how much she liked his touch.
“No. I’m good. You want me to get lunch together for you?”
“No. I ordered pizza. You just worry about getting settled in today.”
Greer smiled. “Thanks. You guys have been really great.”
Chas returned her smile. “We’re just glad you’re here.”
As she unpacked her clothing and her art supplies, Greer couldn’t help smiling. Maybe things were finally improving. She would make darn sure she did a great job. And if she was a little more interested in her employers than she should be? She sighed. She’d keep that to herself.
Glancing out the window to the rolling pasture, it finally hit her that she was looking at the reverse view of what she’d always stared at as a kid. Back then, she’d gazed at the big house from the woods below, wondering who lived there and what their lives were like.
She shook her head. Life took some strange twists.
Chapter Three
By the middle of the following day, Greer realized Liam and Chas hadn’t been joking when they said she wouldn’t have much to do. Chas was at the hospital, and after spending the morning in his studio, Liam had left for a meeting at a downtown gallery.
Finally alone in the big house, Greer decided to learn her way around. The kitchen she was already well-acquainted with. Liam and Chas loved to eat. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, or multiple snacks—it didn’t matter. As active as they both were, they shoveled food in at a rate she was still trying to adjust to. So, skipping the kitchen, she began her tour of the house at the front. Like a lot of older homes, everything branched off large central hallways both upstairs and down, but the sheer size of the house was mind-boggling.
The breakfast room was a cozy extension off the kitchen. It made Greer suspect it had once been a part of the kitchen that had later been split off to provide the family a less formal place to dine than the huge dining room sprawling just on the other side of a swinging door. Greer looked at the long, polished table and wondered if Liam ever put it to use.
That side of the house contained most of what she considered to be the company rooms. In addition to the dining room, a small sitting room decorated in feminine colors seemed to indicate it had once been his mother’s and grandmother’s private domain, a music room was next door, and leading directly from the music room was a large, very-formal living room, big enough it could probably double as a ballroom. Greer smiled, imagining a bygone era when women would have floated down the wide staircase in long dresses with billowing hoop skirts.
On the other side of the hallway were the rooms now getting the most use, a large library, Chas’ study where she’d been taken the first night, an informal family room sporting a man-sized flat screen TV. Her apartment was behind, off the kitchen. There were also narrow back stairs leading from the kitchen to the upper floors. First designed, no doubt, for the servants to take meals upstairs, so they had as little contact with the main part of the house as possible.
She’d leave the upper two floors for later. At the moment, with no one around, Greer wanted to satisfy her curiosity, so she headed back to Chas’ study. It intrigued her how much a part of Liam’s life he was, even to the point of being part of the decision to hire her. She had to admit, it smacked of a more intimate relationship than just friends.
Greer sat in his chair, laughing slightly when her feet barely touched the floor. Crossing her legs Indian style, she leaned forward and smoothed her hand across the polished wooden surface of his desk. She inhaled deeply, taking in his scent—mainly soap and the herbal shampoo he used. She could also smell Liam, as if he spent his own fair share of time in here, but if they were good friends, that just made sense.
Curiously, she tugged at the top right desk drawer. Like the quality antique it was, the drawer slid silently open. Greer recoiled with a gasp. Handcuffs? She peered inside. A rubber ring that looked like a vacuum cleaner belt, and another thing that looked like a bolo tie made of silicone tubing. What the… Her hand closed around a half empty bottle of lubricant. Greer dropped it as though it had burned her.
They were gay? She shoved the drawer shut, her mind taking a moment to absorb it. She’d met a few guys in the art department in college who were, but they’d been real femmes with all the stereotypical mincing and squealing. Neither Chas nor Liam fit that image.
But she could picture them naked. And—oh, hell—she could picture them with each other, and the idea was…well, exciting. Chewing slightly on her lower lip, she opened the drawer beneath the one she’d just had open, but files and papers were all she saw. It seemed only the top drawer had any sex-related items.
She swallowed slightly. Maybe she should take a look upstairs. Just so she would know how to manage her workload. So she could plan.
As she climbed the wide steps, she realized the fluttering in her belly wasn’t nerves, it was desire. Only recently had she even felt it again, and only in a fantasy life she’d sometimes wondered was even normal, a fantasy life that included the images she now had of Chas and Liam—only now she had faces to put with the actions. Throat dry, she walked toward the end of the hall and checked each bedroom. One side was obviously set aside as guest bedrooms.
Crossing the hall, she began her search of the other side. Wyatt’s room was the one in the front, overlooking the drive. With an artist as a father, she wasn’t surprised to find the walls decorated with murals. So he painted as well, and this had been a labor of love telling her about both Wyatt and his father.
All sorts of magical creatures decorated the walls, from unicorns to dragons. Keeping in mind his audience, the dragons had a distinctly cuddly look to them. Greer laughed, wondering if Liam would make them more fearsome as his son got older, or would they turn into something else entirely as Wyatt’s interests changed? She suspected the latter would hold true.
At first, the next room appeared to be another guest room, but as she looked more closely, she realized it was Chas’. Greer frowned. Though his clot
hing was in the closet, and a couple of pictures sat on the bureau, it just didn’t feel like it belonged to the outgoing, caring man she’d met. Still puzzled, she found an adjoining door to the master suite beyond.
And now her puzzlement ended. The unmade bed told its own tale. Two people slept in the king-sized sleigh bed. She sat on a leather loveseat at the foot, dumbfounded.
She should make the bed, part of her job after all. Swallowing, Greer stood and began to tidy the room, but couldn’t quite bring herself to straighten the sheets and blankets. A couple minutes later, she stopped again, stared at the wide expanse of premium cotton and finally gave in to what she really wanted to do.
After crawling on top, she stretched out on the sheets. Turning her head first to one pillow then the other, she inhaled their combined scents. Chas and Liam. Chas and Liam. Her hand inched inside her shorts until her fingers pressed against her clit. Chas and Liam. Together. She moved her fingers, massaging her flesh, feeling the instant slickness.
She pictured both men, imagined Chas kneeling on the loveseat, bent over the bed with Liam behind him, hands braced on Chas’ lean hips. Greer arched into her stroking fingers, her breath panting out in little gasps. As her mind continued the fantasy with Liam fucking Chas from behind, she took it a step further, picturing Chas’ fingers where hers were now, seeing his face pushing between her parted thighs, searching out her honey and using his tongue on her clit and over her slit to her dripping vagina.
Frantic now, she unzipped her shorts, shoved them and her panties down so she could work her fingers on her clit and deep in her pussy. All the while, images of Liam and Chas pleasuring each other and pleasuring her swirled through her brain until her body tightened and her orgasm crashed through her. She cried out, nerve pulses making her thighs quiver.
When her heartbeat settled, she yanked her shorts up and rolled off the bed. Liam and Chas were her bosses. What the hell was she doing? At the same time she posed the question, she heard a car coming up the drive. She glanced out the tall window nearest her and saw Liam’s truck just disappearing around the front.
Busted.
Greer yanked the sheets, straightened the blankets, and finally the fluffy comforter. After punching the pillows back into shape, she darted into the bathroom, picked up the dirty towels and wiped the sinks and the counters before gathering the laundry. She had already spotted a chute near the back stairs, so she shoved everything down it and hurried down the narrow steps to the kitchen.
Liam was just coming in. She smiled in answer to his greeting and went to the refrigerator, hoping a look inside for something to cook for dinner would cool the heat in her cheeks.
“Everything okay?” She heard a note of concern in his voice, as if her agitation was apparent.
“Yes. I-I just finished upstairs and was trying to think about what to cook for dinner…”
“Greer?” His hands rested on her shoulders, turning her to face him. She swallowed. She’d masturbated on his bed. Heat flooded her cheeks. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look flushed.”
“I was working. Maybe it’s that.”
Liam leaned in closer, but she breathed a sigh of relief when he simply reached past her for a beer. “I could grill steaks if you’ll handle everything else.”
She nodded. “Salad? Fries?” Her voice sounded high-pitched to her.
He grinned and patted her shoulder. “That’d be great.” He grabbed a bottle opener, popped the cap and flicked it into the garbage can. His eyes, as he regarded her, held a glint of humor. “You finding your way around?”
“That’s part of what I did today.”
He nodded. His gaze was friendly, but Greer saw nothing else. “Sorry I haven’t given you a tour. I can still do that, if you need me.”
Was there something in his tone? Greer ignored it and pulled vegetables from the fridge, prepping to make a salad. She began slicing cucumbers. “That’s okay. I think I figured everything out.”
“Including the fact Chas and I share a bed.”
Greer slipped, the knife cutting her finger. “Oh! Damn.”
Liam was across the room in an instant, grabbing a paper towel and applying pressure. “God, Greer. I’m sorry. I was teasing, not trying to startle you.”
With one hand holding the paper towel on her cut, he wrapped his free arm around her waist and guided her into the bathroom in her apartment, pushing her down on the small vanity seat.
“Hold the paper towel on while I grab the first-aid kit.”
“It’s not that bad,” she muttered.
Liam paused in reaching beneath the sink to look at her. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Of what?”
They both turned their heads, seeing Chas standing in the doorway in scrubs and clogs, sunglasses dangling around his neck.
“I made her cut her finger.”
“It’s nothing,” Greer tacked on, ignoring Liam’s scowl.
Chas stepped in and squatted next to her. “Why don’t you let the doctor take a look?”
Liam set the first-aid kit on the counter, but made no move to leave. From thinking her bathroom was huge, Greer now found it very small indeed, and with Chas here, she couldn’t get the image of the two of them making love out of her brain.
“You look a little flushed,” Chas murmured, resting the back of his hand against her cheek.
“Oh for God’s sake!” Greer snapped, desperate to distract both men from her flushed cheeks. Yes, she was flushed. She’d just climaxed to a very vivid fantasy of both of them. “It’s just a little cut. The knife slipped while I was slicing a cucumber for the salad.”
“Right after I commented that in cleaning the upstairs she must have discovered you and I share a bed, since neither one of us made it this morning.”
Chas looked at her with those long-lashed blue eyes. His expression radiated concern mixed with just a hint of wariness. “Is that a problem?”
Greer didn’t trust herself to speak. She just shook her head.
He grinned, his relief obvious. “That’s my girl. How about you let me look at your finger now?”
She laid her hand in his and watched as he unwrapped the towel. Blood immediately welled. “See?” Greer said. “Just slap a bandage on, and I’m good to go.”
Her confidence faltered when Chas frowned.
“Chas?” Liam growled. “What’s up?”
Chas tilted his head just a bit as he wrapped the towel back around it and pursed his lips. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” he told her, “but I need to put a couple of stitches in this.”
“Why?” Greer demanded. She had sudden visions of having to go to an emergency room, and her head swam. As she swayed on the chair, Chas steadied her.
“What’s wrong, Greer?” Concern laced his tone.
“I don’t have to see a doctor, do I?” As soon as it left her mouth, she realized how stupid it sounded. Chas didn’t laugh, though. He smoothed his finger along her cheek.
“I can do it right here. You don’t have to go anywhere, but you will have to see me. Can you handle that?”
She nodded, relief pouring through her. “That’s okay.”
Chas glanced at Liam. “Would you get my bag? It’s in my office. Greer, you keep holding the towel on there. I’m going to scrub. When Liam gets back, I’ll numb the area around the cut and take care of it. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“Are you sure you can’t just put a butterfly bandage on it?” Greer didn’t want this to be a big deal. In only four days, she’d had a panic attack in front of them and now she’d cut her finger badly enough she needed stitches. Plus, she could tell from the look on Chas’ face he sensed there was something underlying her aversion to medical facilities.
He took a hand towel from the shelf next to the sink and dried his hands. “It is a nice clean cut, and not deep, but it is right next to your knuckle. Without a couple of stitches to hold everything in place, it won’t heal cleanly, and it’ll leave a scar.”
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br /> “Like that really matters.” Greer slammed her mouth shut and closed her eyes, unable to even look at him.
He touched her shoulder, so she looked at him. “I’ll leave that comment alone for now, okay? But we’ll come back to it at some point.”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Just forget I said it. Put the stitches in and let’s move on.”
“Here.” Liam returned and once again the room shrank. He frowned at them. “Look, not that I’m squeamish, but unless you need me here to assist, Chas, I’m going to get cranking with dinner…”
“That’s my job,” Greer interrupted. “I can do it.”
Liam stroked her hair. “No. It was my fault. I startled you.”
He left before she could say anything else. Chas opened his bag, laid out what he needed then snapped on gloves.
“Okay,” he said matter-of-factly. “What’s wrong?”
She sighed. “I told you about my job history. I’ve had really rotten luck, and it just seems to be starting again. I mean…first I have the panic attack, now this, and,” she paused, “what am I really doing here? There’s hardly any cleaning to do, and now Liam is out there cooking dinner.”
Chas took her hand and unwrapped the towel without saying anything at first. Finally, as he began cleaning her finger, he said, “You couldn’t help either thing, Greer. I know right now it seems like there’s not much to do, but there will be when Wyatt… Here, set your hand on the towel. I’m going to use a topical numbing agent.”
“No shot?” Thank God.
He grinned at her. “No, sweetie. No shot.” He carefully spread the gel over the area. “Okay, we’ll wait a couple minutes and let that get good and numb. If my sewing is going to make you queasy, you might want to look the other way while I do it.”