Glutton For Pleasure

by Alisha Rai

  “Oh, yeah, what woman wouldn’t dream of being married to two men?”

  Married? Devi’s eyes widened. She hadn’t really thought of it that way.

  Jace made a frustrated noise. “Devi cares for us.”

  “Yeah, well, she also cares for her family and friends, and their good opinion of her, I’m sure. It’s one thing to fuck two men, another to bring them home for Sunday dinner. What does she get out of it?”

  “Two men who adore her, who appreciate her and the happiness she brings us.”

  “Two perverted men who were physically and sexually abused. She knows the truth now, no need to pretty it up. This discussion is unnecessary, there’s no way she would want us now.” A dull flush covered Marcus’s face, and he glanced at her before looking back at the table.

  He was ashamed, Devi realized, and felt tears threaten again. Ashamed that she knew his secret and he thought she would blame him. A cauldron of emotions bubbled inside of her. She needed—she didn’t know what she needed. Some time. She latched on to that thought. Time would be very good to sort out everything that had happened tonight.

  “I think I know what I do or don’t want.” Her voice rang out, clear and authoritative, and both men turned to her. Too bad she couldn’t express it right now. She took a deep breath. “What I want, right this minute, is a little bit of time to think without two behemoths smashing things and yelling in my kitchen.”

  To their credit, both looked a little shamefaced as they glanced around the shambles of the kitchen. They had cleared the counter of all appliances and doodads, and most of it lay in pieces on the floor.

  “Sorry,” Marcus said gruffly. “Looks like we’re nothing but trouble, huh.”

  In a weird way, it was like Marcus was just pushing for her to admit she wanted them gone. She figured he would rather take the disappointment now than later. She softened her tone. “It’s nothing a dustpan won’t take care of.”

  “Whatever. It’s late, and I’m tired. I’m going home.”

  Devi frowned. When she had meant she needed a bit of time, she hadn’t intended for them to leave. A flare of alarm struck her. She wanted them here, with her. She wanted to cradle them close and soothe their hurts. “You don’t have to go.”

  Marcus wouldn’t meet her eyes, but stood and walked to the doorway. “Like you said, you need some time. And so do I.”

  Jace laid the peas on the table. “I’ll drive you home.”

  “Fuck you. I don’t need a nursemaid.” Marcus looked at her, his gaze so distant it punched her in the heart. “It’s been a great week, Devi.”

  With that, he left, and her eyes burned as she stared at the empty doorway, the echo of the front door clicking obscenely loud. He had already said goodbye to her in his mind, she realized. He didn’t think there was any way she would want him since she knew their secret.

  A loud sigh brought her back to Jace, who winced as he straightened and rubbed his side. “I should follow him home. The mood he’s in, he might wreck the car.”

  She nodded mutely and followed him to the front door. He turned and cupped a hand over her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Devi. For everything.” Sadness and regret etched every line in his face.

  “Are you saying goodbye too?” she whispered.

  “You kidding me?” A ghost of a smile graced his lips. “I’ve put a lot of time and effort into this venture. I’m going to see it work if it kills me.” The smile slid away. “But maybe I did rush everything. And for that I’m sorry. Me and my impatience.”

  “I like your impatience.” She loved it. It was so Jace, to see a problem and take measured and deliberate steps to solve it.

  “Yeah, well. I’m hoping I didn’t screw up too badly here. Whatever you decide, Devi.” Jace stroked a finger along her cheek. “Just know that I’m there for you.” He dropped his hand, a flash of pain twisting his features. “And in case Marcus decides he would rather be miserable forever, I’d be honored if you’d still consider having just me in your life.”

  He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against her cheek before taking his leave. With automatic movements, she locked the door and set the alarm. She paused in the doorway of the kitchen but then moved on. You can clean it up tomorrow.

  In the darkness of her bedroom she stripped down to her bra and panties. The set came from Marcus’s purchases. Demurely cut, made of comfortable microfiber, tiny daisies danced across a background of white. With her fondness for that flower, this set was her favorite. Marcus had claimed loud and long he had bought the garments to titillate, but amongst the lace and cutaway crotches, she had also discovered comfortable cotton and whimsical designs he could only have bought with an eye toward her preferences.

  In many ways, the twins knew her even better than she knew herself. She rested her head against the soft cotton of her pillow. What the hell was she going to do?

  The way she looked at it, she had three options.

  Number one, she could never see the twins again, and forget this week ever occurred.

  Number two, she could take Jace up on his offer and leave Marcus to his own devices, thereby playing it safe. Her family would be delighted with Jace as her boyfriend.

  Number three, she could say to hell with everyone else and do what her heart and body were clamoring for. Invite them both into her life. Love them both. Accept their love in return.

  Her gut clenched at the thought of the first option.

  The second option was more palatable, especially if Marcus was unable to work through his issues to be in a committed relationship. Jace, by himself, was a lover any woman would kill for. She knew he was probably already in love with her, and not shy about showing it. However, it would be very difficult for him to not include his brother. By the same token, there would always be a part of her yearning for Marcus, and that was hardly fair to Jace.

  The third…ahh, the third was ideal. She could imagine coming home to both of them, cooking them breakfast in the morning. Kissing them off to work.

  A worm of shame wiggled into her heart. Other women would have been satisfied with one man, and she would have too, before meeting Jace and Marcus. What was wrong with her that she wanted both of them forever? How could she be in love with two men? Was she abnormal?

  She took comfort in the fact she couldn’t imagine having sex with anyone but them, and she had the feeling they would rip apart any other man who looked at her. They might share with each other, but no one else, and she didn’t mind that.

  She turned and punched her fist into the pillow. It wasn’t that she thought they were the same person or anything, but often times they seemed like two sides to the same coin. She loved—yes, loved, damn it—different things about both of them. They called out to different parts of her own personality, in a way one man couldn’t have done. Maybe she was just more complicated than she thought.

  For a second she pictured the hazy man she had eventually assumed she would fall in love with—a doctor, maybe, or an accountant. A real accountant, not a Marcus-accountant. Someone with a paunch and a receding hairline. Someone who would be gentle and patient in the bedroom, not asking for sex more than three times a week. Someone who liked kids and puppies and never swore. They would have dinner at the same time every night and go to bed after watching the late show.

  Devi shuddered in disgust. Dear Lord, she could never have that now. They had ruined her for anyone else. She pushed the covers off to the bottom of the bed and let the air-conditioning swirl over her body. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Mr. Callahan? You have a delivery.”

  Marcus looked up from the papers he had spread out over his desk. For the life of him, he couldn’t have told anyone what they were about, though he’d been studying them since lunchtime.

  Instead of focusing on work, which he usually did with a single-minded efficiency, half of his attention was on his cell phone. For someone who hated text messages as a cultural phenomenon, he had
become accustomed to Devi texting him during the past week. Usually it was nonsense. Sometimes a joke. The content didn’t matter—it gave him a warm feeling to know she thought of him. Unlike Jace, he wasn’t a social creature, so he didn’t cultivate a huge number of friends who would casually call him during the day for no apparent reason.

  He glanced at the sleek black phone lying on the desk. Today it had sat silent, with no little chirp to let him know a message had arrived.

  Really, he couldn’t blame her. Nobody but Jace knew his secret, and they didn’t speak of it, ever. That Devi knew about his shame made him want to howl in misery. The fact that she had withdrawn didn’t surprise him at all, he had expected it. What woman wanted two men, especially ones as screwed up as they were? It’s not like they were a great catch.

  “Mr. Callahan?”

  He looked at his assistant again, who watched him with an expressionless face. Jace hated her, said she gave him the chills, but Marcus didn’t mind her cold efficiency. He paid her too much for her to ask what was up with his weird behavior, and she hadn’t even blinked at his black eye. “Just sign for it, Wendy.”

  “Yes, sir. But the delivery person said you were to open it personally.”

  He breathed out a sigh of irritation and motioned for her to bring it in. She stepped aside for the delivery boy, and Marcus stood, expecting an envelope. Instead, the young man came in bearing a sassy smile and a large white box with a red bow in one hand. A huge arrangement of tropical flowers was carefully cradled in the other. Marcus frowned as he studied the box and flowers the kid placed on his desk. Realizing the boy waited, he fished in his pocket and withdrew some cash.

  “Hey, thanks, man.”

  “No problem,” he muttered absently. He hadn’t looked at the bill. It could have just as easily been a fifty as a five.

  The door clicked quietly behind his assistant as she left. He stroked a finger along the slightly rubbery petals of the red ginger. His birthday wouldn’t roll around for a few months, and as far as he knew, no one had died. He had never received flowers before, from anyone. Even Jace, as metrosexual as he was, had probably never stepped foot inside of a florist shop.

  He spotted a flash of white amid the tropical colors and withdrew the card, half convinced the delivery guy had gotten the wrong person.

  Dear Marcus, when I saw these flowers, I thought of you; sometimes spiky, but beautiful, unique and hardy. Will you please be my date tonight? Be ready at six. Love, Devi

  He reread the card again, focusing on the word Love. In typical Devi fashion, she had scrawled a number of Xs and Os along the bottom of the line and added a smiley face.

  He stroked the card before placing it on the desk with gentle reverence. He turned to the box and picked apart the bow, his fingers feeling clumsy and too big. He could have cut it, but he didn’t want to damage the ribbon, which he deposited next to the card.

  Once he brushed aside the tissue inside the box, he uncovered a very nice suit in his favorite color, navy blue. Labels weren’t his thing, but even he could recognize an Armani when he saw it.

  He sat back in his chair and stared at the box and flowers. Other than his parents and Jace no one had ever bought anything for him, especially nothing as personal as clothes. No one else had ever taken the time to shop for a gift for him, actually thinking of his tastes and personality.

  He touched the spike of a bird of paradise.

  What was he going to do with Devi?

  ~ * ~

  “Jace, you have a delivery!”

  Jace looked up at his secretary, wincing a bit from her shrill voice and singsong tone. Janice was young, the daughter of one of his associates, and since she was a single mom, he put up with her lack of professionalism and, ahem, lack of clothes. She had a good heart, and for the most part, managed to keep his office running smoothly. Although when he hadn’t slept all night, it was tough not to agree with Marcus that her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

  Not like Devi, who always sounded melodious.

  He shook his head and tried to keep his mind off her, a futile task. For the first time in a long time, he and Marcus weren’t speaking. It hurt like hell, and all he wanted to do was nuzzle his face between Devi’s soft breasts and let her take the pain away.

  “Jacey!”

  Jace. He gritted his teeth. “Just put it in my inbox, Janice.”

  She dimpled. “It’s too big.”

  “Fine, bring it in.” Sometimes he received reams of paper regarding a case he was working on, which made up a mighty hefty package. He hadn’t really been expecting anything, though.

  His jaw dropped when Janice came waltzing in with a large bouquet of red roses and white lilies. A gift-wrapped shoebox was wedged under her arm. “You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday.”

  “It’s not.” He slid back from his seat so she could place the arrangement and box on the table in front of him.

  She flicked a worried glance over his face, lingering over his swollen lip. “If your significant other is trying to apologize after hurting you, I’d throw it in his face. I’ve dated plenty of guys like that, and once they start hitting, nothing stops them.”

  A dull flush covered his cheeks as he realized what she was saying. “I’m not gay, Janice.”

  Baby blue eyes widened. “A woman did that to you? Oh, honey, do you want the name of my self-defense instructor? A little confidence goes a long way.”

  “Out, Janice.”

  “But…”

  “I fell, okay? Now, out.”

  She sniffed in outrage but stalked out the door. Jace winced, imagining her telling the entire office that he got beat up by a girl. Then his attention caught on the arrangement sitting on the table and he couldn’t care less what Janice chose to tell the world.

  He had received the odd gift from the girlfriend whom he happened to be with on his birthday or Christmas, but those had been shallow gifts; ties, cufflinks. Certainly no one had ever sent him flowers.

  With a sense of anticipation, he reached for the card in the center of the arrangement, fearful of bruising the fragile-looking petals of the lilies.

  Dear Jace, Romance and elegance are so much your forte, I figured these flowers would suit you well. They smell as pretty as they look, and that’s the way you are, just good inside and out. Will you please be my date tonight? I’ll be at your place at six. Love, Devi P.S. I figured you already have tons of suits, but I noticed you eyeing these. Hope they fit.

  Choked with emotion, he stripped the paper off the box, impatient to get to the inside. Nestled in tissue lay a pair of Gucci loafers he had indeed checked out at their mall trip last week. How like Devi to have noticed. He lifted them up and looked at the size, smiling to see they were perfect.

  He had just slipped them onto his feet when his cell phone chirped. Recognizing the ring, he didn’t bother to check the caller ID. “Roses and lilies. Romantic and elegant. You?”

  A pause. “I think they’re called tropicals. Um, spiky.”

  Jace was startled into a laugh. “Spiky?”

  Marcus cleared his throat and Jace could almost see him hunching his shoulders in embarrassment. “And unique and beautiful too,” he mumbled, so fast Jace almost missed it.

  “She’s something.”

  “Yeah.” Another pause. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

  Jace snorted. “Not as sorry as I am. Janice thinks my girl and/or gay lover smacked me around.”

  “Ouch. Well, maybe if you hired a secretary who isn’t a casting reject from Legally Blonde, you might not have so many problems.”

  “What, so I could have a barracuda sitting in my outer office, like you? No thanks.” He smiled to hear Marcus’s chuckle over this familiar argument. “I’m sorry I spilled the beans.”

  Marcus sobered. “It’s okay. I guess you didn’t have much of a choice. We were getting in pretty deep.”

  He leaned in close to inhale a fragrant rose. “From where I’m sitting, it looks like we
’re still in it.”

  “Yeah. She’s really softhearted though.”

  Jace knew exactly what Marcus was implying. “She might be softhearted, Marcus, but she’s not soft in the head or a martyr. She wouldn’t stay with a man just because she felt sorry for him.”

  “Mmmm.” Doubt rang in the sound.

  “For God’s sake, man, we do have something to offer her too.”

  “You do.” Shame and self-loathing laced the low words.

  A sting of tears burned in Jace’s eyes and for the hundredth time, he wished he could have taken Marcus’s place all those years ago. “If she wanted just me, she would have said so. She wants you too. You are worthy of this. You deserve happiness. I don’t know why you can’t see what she and I do when we look at you.”

  More silence, and then Marcus spoke. “She picking you up tonight too?”

  Jace closed his eyes in relief. A small doubt had remained in the back of his mind that Devi wouldn’t want both of them with her, and he was so happy it had been laid to rest. “Yeah.”

  “You know where we’re going?”

  Jace paused. He assumed her sister’s party, but what if he was wrong and Devi chose not to bring them to such a public arena? She may have decided only to continue their private affair. His brother would be disillusioned, behind a veneer of indifference, of course. “Nope.”

  “She sent me an Armani.”

  A smile curved his lips. Finally, he had a comrade. Dressing Marcus qualified as a full-time job. “You don’t know how gratified I am to realize you even know what that means.”

  “Whatever. And here I thought she was laid-back about clothes. One of you is enough.”

  Jace laughed. “I’ll see you after work.” He snapped the phone shut and snagged a rose from the arrangement, bringing it to his nose as he rested back in his chair. Amazing how ten minutes could bring about a huge change in mood and outlook. His brother and he were on speaking terms, a gorgeous woman whom he loved—that’s right, loved—sent him flowers and asked him out on a potentially relationship-defining date, and he had some truly wonderful footwear on his feet. He wiggled his toes and brushed the feather-soft petals of the rose against his cheek, imagining coasting it over her curves tonight.