Two Doms for Vicki [Pleasure, Montana 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Melody Snow Monroe

  “Usually, but we’ve been through this argument numerous times. Why not forget the past and start living life like today is the first day. Wipe the slate clean. If you like them, then take a chance and see where it heads.”

  “You got an eraser?”

  “Sometimes I wish I did. In this case, you have to want it enough and then it will happen.”

  Easy for her to say. Chelsea was married to two wonderful men who doted on her. How many men would give up their chance to expand their business so they could buy a home for her?

  “I do, in a way.”

  “I think if you accepted Sanford’s offer of being his campaign manager, you could start fresh.”

  “I’m not qualified.”

  “Bull. You were the head of the yearbook in high school. That takes more skill than running a local campaign.”

  Vicki leaned her elbows on the waist-high stainless steel counter. “Maybe. I do know if I don’t do it, they’ll get someone else.” She didn’t want to leave him in the lurch.

  Do not go soft now.

  Vicki made circle with her finger in the shiny counter. “They said they’d ask Chrissie Brenner.” Chrissie was five feet nine inches, a size zero with humongous fake boobs, and terminally pretty.

  Chelsea rolled her eyes. “They were kidding. She has no brains.”

  “Who needs them if you look like her? Chrissie could recite the alphabet and men would line up to vote for who she endorsed.”

  Chelsea wiped her hands down her apron, removed it, and walked over to her side. “Come on. Something’s going on in the bar. Let’s check it out.”

  Vicki had been so self-absorbed that she hadn’t heard the commotion. Chelsea pushed open the double swinging door to exit the kitchen. “Whoa.”

  The bar was packed. Not only was every table full, a crowd had lined every available wall. Sanford was in the corner on the small stage with a microphone in his hand. He looked so handsome and powerful.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything, but thanks for the well wishes. As soon as I find a campaign manager, I’ll be announcing my candidacy officially.” His voice boomed and echoed in the small space.

  “Sanford! Sanford! Sanford!” The crowd chanted, cheered, and clapped.

  She refused to feel guilty. He’d find someone who would do a great job.

  Don’t you want to see what it would be like to stand by his side? Wouldn’t it be fun to be more involved in the community?

  He waved and stepped down from the platform. A slew of locals swarmed him and asked all sorts of questions. Out of curiosity, she eased her way closer to hear his answers.

  He responded to each one with clarity, clear thinking, and decisiveness. She was highly impressed with his thoughtful remarks. When he seemed to want to do what was best for the community, even she got caught up in the excitement.

  Sanford held up both hands. “That’s enough for tonight. I want to spend some time strategizing. The election is in a little under two months, and Clint and I need to plan. If you’re interested in volunteering, let me know, but not until Monday.” More chuckles came from around the room.

  Sanford spotted her and wove his way toward her. He grinned. “I didn’t see you come in.”

  “I was chatting with your sister and heard the commotion.”

  Clint wormed his way up to them. The crowd didn’t seem to believe Sanford about calling it a night, as they continued to ask him questions. Before she knew it, the two had led her into the kitchen, where the noise immediately abated.

  “Phew. That was intense,” she said. “It was almost like being famous.”

  Sanford nodded. “I totally agree.”

  The counters had been wiped clean. “Chelsea must have gone home already.” Vicki hadn’t realized she’d been out in the bar for so long.

  “Can we speak with you in private?” Sanford asked.

  “You going to beg me again to work for you?”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I’m not the one who does the begging.”

  Heat raced up her face, and she instantly thought about what Chelsea said about them being Doms. Before she could ask where they were going, they swept her down the back hallway and up the stairs to the apartment the owners had used before they purchased the big house for Chelsea.

  Clint pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. If he had a key, she figured their brothers-in-law had given them permission to be there. The apartment had two bedrooms, and her mind jumped to the bed part.

  Don’t go there. “Are you sure you should even be here?”

  He laughed. “We’ve rented the place.”

  “You have a house.” Chelsea said they’d rented it during their absence, and that the tenant had moved out last week.

  “It’s just until after the election,” Sanford said.

  “It works especially well for me, too,” Clint said. “I’ll be closer to the job.”

  The sheriff’s office was next door to the Mountain View. “That is convenient.”

  He pushed open the door and led her inside. The first time she’d been here was after Chelsea had been attacked and her men insisted on keeping her safe.

  She walked to the middle of the small living room and spun to face them. “You did a nice job out there, Sanford.” Diverting the conversation toward his success was safer than talking about her emotions.

  “Didn’t he, darlin’?” Clint moved closer to her.

  “I still need a manager, angel, but I know you’re not ready to commit.”

  How could he tell? It wasn’t so much an unwillingness as much as it was a fear. Fear she’d disappoint him and fear she’d get her heart broken once more. “I’m a physical therapist and love my job. I’m not angling to be a national campaign manager.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what it could do for your career,” Clint said.

  He was talking nonsense. “My career as a physical therapist?” Maybe the war had addled his brain.

  Clint stroked her cheek, clouding her brain. “It’s called visibility. The whole town will be aware of how incredibly talented and smart you are.”

  That drew a chuckle. “Unless Sanford is willing to let me stretch his knee and exercise him in public, I don’t think the good people of Pleasure will come rushing to my door because I can hand out flyers.”

  “Let’s sit down.” Sanford led her to the sofa where they surrounded her again. “Can you honestly say you know all three thousand residents in Pleasure?”

  “No.”

  “There you go. If they know you exist, when they look down the list of possible therapists, your name will ring a bell. Your client list would soar.”

  He might be right. “Just out of curiosity, have you figured out how I could hand out fliers, ask for money, create polls, set up speeches, and help my clients at the same time?” She wasn’t going to tell him that with her few clients, she might be able to swing both.

  He grinned. “I’ve got that covered.”

  Her stomach flipped “What did you do?” Oh, shit. He wouldn’t. “Did you contact all my customers and tell them my license was revoked or something?”

  Sanford cupped her face. “Angel, you wound me. I only want what’s best for you.”

  He kept saying that. Fortunately, he let go before her brain turned to mush. “Oh, really? Tell me what’s best for me.”

  Clint placed his hand over hers and she turned her attention to him. “I called in a favor from a good friend from Bozeman.”

  Her stomach twisted. “What kind of favor?”

  He smiled. “My staff sergeant has a sister who’s a practicing physical therapist in Wyoming. When their mother was diagnosed with cancer, she returned home to take care of her. Recently, the mother passed. Now Kim is going back to school in January for a doctorate and is free until then.”

  She wasn’t able to connect the dots. “Free for what?”

  “When we think you’re ready to become Sanford’s campaign manager, she’ll take over
your clients until after the election.” He grinned. “So you see, you have nothing to worry about.”

  She jumped up, strode over to the window, and glanced down at the lit street. Cars drove by and some pedestrians crossed the street. She turned back to face them. “You did all this without knowing whether I’d agree?”

  Sanford met her on the other side of the room. He picked up her hand. “I’m confident, when the time is right, you’ll be joining our team.”

  Her mouth gaped open. “You know I’ll be joining the team, so you found a replacement?” The gall of the man. Okay, maybe the sentiment was sweet and considerate, but he basically ripped the decision from her. It didn’t matter if his solution was a good one.

  If he did this because he loved her, then he needed a serious adjustment on his definition of love.

  Sanford squeezed her fingers. “You need to understand something.”

  “Enlighten me. If something doesn’t start to make sense soon, I’m walking out right now.”

  He and Clint glanced at each other. She caught a flash of panic skating across both of their faces, and satisfaction surged through her.

  “Angel, please sit down and hear us out.”

  This time she strode toward the chair and sat. “Talk.”

  Sanford’s lips hardened. He inhaled. “We know that if you agreed to be my manager out of loyalty to Chelsea or your affection for us, you’d try to be superwoman. You don’t like to disappoint anyone.” He leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “Tell me this. How many regular customers do you have? Eight maybe?”

  “About.” He must have spoken with Chelsea.

  “We both know all about rehab. When I was injured, you spent the night at the house.”

  He didn’t need to remind her. “You were a severe case. You really should have been in the hospital.” Besides, they were her best friend’s brothers. Okay, she’d always had the hots for them and she hadn’t thought twice about staying overnight.

  “Maybe, but my point is if another needy person came your way, could you turn him down? Would you feel good about saying you had to be at the campaign office to count ballots or go door to door asking for votes instead of helping?”

  “You know the answer is no.”

  “Precisely. So it is in your best interest if you don’t have to worry about anything other than this campaign.”

  Damn him. Why was he so slick? “I work because I have to pay my bills.”

  He slapped a hand on his chest in a mocking gesture. “Your comment cuts. Do you think we wouldn’t pay you?”

  Yes. “No.”

  “I promise that we will compensate you handsomely. We will pay more than you are earning now in addition to paying for Clint’s friend’s sister to take over your practice for the next two months.”

  He’d really do that for her? She softened. If she pushed aside the fact that he basically orchestrated her life, she had to admit it was a very sweet deal. She’d have no money worries, no odd hours working with clients, and she’d get a chance to see a more exciting side of life.

  She wasn’t ready to agree to his conditions yet, but she was curious. “How would you describe the manager’s role?”

  Sanford grinned as if he was convinced he’d won. “This person would be the key media spokesperson for the candidate and be in charge of all campaign functions. She’d review all platform announcements and speeches. We’d create the polls together, but I’d be the one going door-to-door giving my speech. This person would also be responsible for finding a few good volunteers. Bob Sayles said he’d help with the financial aspect.”

  “That doesn’t sound too hard.”

  “One of the reasons why Clint and I thought you’d be so perfect is because one key to campaigning is knowing the opposition.”

  Dread replaced her excitement. So that was why they’d asked her. “You want me to spy on Megan?”

  “No. Not at all.” He leaned forward. “Let me make this clear. We don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Hell, I wouldn’t let you do anything you don’t feel good about doing.”

  The tension in her shoulders lessened. “What then?”

  “I want my manager to familiarize herself with Megan’s platform so we can develop tactics and responses.”

  She leaned back. “You’ve really given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”

  “I know what I want. I want what’s best for the community and I want us to be a team, but only when the timing’s right.”

  He kept talking about this timing stuff as if it was some predetermined time. “How do you know when the timing’s right?”

  He smiled. “You’ll have to trust me.”

  Clint stood. “It’s late and you have a lot on your mind.”

  She did, but was he talking about taking the manager job or being with them intimately? She looked around for her coat then remembered she’d left it downstairs in the kitchen when she came in to speak with Chelsea.

  Wait a minute. They were going to let her go? Where was the part where they begged her to be their manager? Or stay and have sex with them? Why else bring her up to their two-bedroom?

  Sanford closed the gap between them. “Thanks for listening.”

  Clint nodded. “I’m going to follow you home.”

  They really were kicking her out. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but I want to. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re safe.”

  They were right about one thing. She needed time to sort everything out and headed for the doorway.

  “Angel?”

  She stopped and turned back. “Yes?” Was now the time when he asked her to stay?

  “Thanks for being here. It means a lot to me.”

  She smiled and headed down the stairs. She hadn’t said she’d be his manager. Then again, he hadn’t really asked either.

  Sanford seemed happy in his skin. He was a man who didn’t act like he regretted leaving the service, but he did seem to have a need to lead. The big question was whether she was willing to be led.

  Chapter Four

  Clint followed Vicki home and then walked her to her front door.

  “Sanford and I are going to spend the day tomorrow strategizing. Just thought you should know.”

  She waited for him to ask her to join them, but he just watched her. “Okay. I’m sure you’ll come up with a great plan.”

  Now she had no idea if she was part of the team or not. Damn them both for keeping her in the dark. They at least should have had the courtesy to ask her to be their manager one more time. Turning them down would have given her quite a lot of satisfaction.

  You want to say yes.

  She needed answers. “Do you want to come in?” That was probably stupid to ask, but he’d been so nice, she was a wee bit curious to see if there still was a spark. What was one kiss?

  “I’ll take a rain check, darlin’. I’m betting your mind is still trying to process what you think is our two-year betrayal.”

  She planted a hand on her hip. While what he said was true, his comment seemed like an excuse. “Is this another one of those bad timing things?”

  He chuckled. “You’re catching on, I see.”

  “So now what?”

  He leaned a hand against the doorframe looking way too sexy. “We want you to use your imagination.” Before she could come up with a retort, he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

  He turned, and with bold strides, ate up the space between her and his pickup truck. Even though the cold air chilled her, she waited until his taillights faded before going back inside. She closed the door and planted her back against it, more confused now than before she spoke with Chelsea.

  She really thought Clint would have conned his way inside. If he had, she might not have been able to turn him down. She knew him—or so she thought. All the way back home, she pictured him insisting on staying until she was snug in bed. Then he’d lie down next to her and tell her that he wanted to make sure
she fell asleep before leaving—only one thing would lead to another. First, his fingers would trace a line down her arm then accidentally touch her breast. He’d say he didn’t mean to get so close. To make up for his mistake, he’d offer to give her a massage, and the next thing she knew, she’d be naked.

  Damn. What had gone wrong?

  She shook her head. It was better this way. It didn’t matter that from the moment she walked out of their apartment to the second she locked her front door, she kept imagining what it would be like to make love to two men. Chelsea’s claim about them being two Doms intrigued her, but it also scared her.

  Would they ask her do things she didn’t like? They seemed to decide what was best for her, but would they carry it too far? Safe words were nice in theory, but would they respect her wishes to stop?

  Aargh. Before she made a big mistake, she probably should get her facts straight. It was late and she needed her sleep. Good thing tomorrow was Sunday, as she could find a way to sort things out.

  She had to take a shower, as her skin was rather grimy from being in the bar. While no one could smoke inside, body odor and beer clung to her skin. She dashed to the shower and undressed. Before she stepped under the water, she glanced in the mirror. She tried to assess her body objectively. She had nice breasts, but her waist and hips could be thinner. And her stomach definitely could use some liposuction. The added weight had mostly settled around her middle.

  Don’t denigrate yourself. Sanford’s words from two years ago came back to her. She had to admit he was right. It didn’t serve anyone to put herself down, only it was hard not to, especially when she thought the three of them were so in love.

  She dunked under the water and soaped up. She closed her eyes and washed her breasts. She let her mind drift and picture what it would be like to have both of the men in the shower with her right now. Would Clint play with her tits while Sanford rubbed her clit over and over again until she screamed his name? Her pussy dripped at the thought. Damn. Would it be better to cut all ties now or should she pursue them? Should she go for the gusto as Chelsea implied?