by MI
“And the light begins to dawn,” Eli teased. “The way you rushed into the break room and looked at me like I’d licked your last cookie, I thought you’d noticed. To tell you the truth, I’d planned on doin’ a whole lot more than lickin’ tonight before I found out she was with you. The way she was when we Skyped, I—”
“Skyped!” Bart straightened and Eli stepped back, putting a couple of feet between them. “The fuck! You and Rhonda have been Skyping?”
“Just that one consultation that went on for hours. You mean she didn’t tell you?”
“No, she didn’t tell me.” Bart wasn’t sure he liked this development. They’d Skyped for hours? What in the hell had they found to talk about all that time? Obviously not him, if Eli hadn’t realized they were together. Then he scowled. “And what do you mean, how she was? Just how was she?”
Eli crossed his arms. “Very interested in me, which in hindsight, I realize had more to do with her stake in you at the time. She was checkin’ out the competition.” Just when Bart started to relax, he added, “But that doesn’t mean she’s not attracted to me, cher. While you were brushin’ your teeth, she dared me to turn her over my knee and spank her, and I’d swear she was disappointed it didn’t happen. I know I was.”
“I only left you alone for a couple of minutes!” Bart said, clenching his fists as a cyclone of violent emotions whipped up inside him. Rhonda was his.
“Sometimes that’s all it takes, mon amour. You know that. Just look at us.”
Bart ground his teeth. It felt like he’d been stabbed in the back by both of them, and he didn’t know whose betrayal hurt more. Jesus, what if they decided they wanted each other and not him? What kind of life would he have then?
“Snap out of it, Bart, and put away the testosterone before someone gets hurt,” Eli ordered. “You wanted a solution to your dilemma? Well here it is, but it won’t work if you’re gonna be possessive of either one of us. I learned that the hard way when I lost you to your daddy, and I’m not up for losin’ you again.”
With his words, the pain and anger and fear blinding Bart dissipated like fog in a gentle breeze, and he took a deep breath as he consciously relaxed his stance.
“I know this is a new idea for you, cher, and it might take some getting used to, but it’s the only way. I won’t be with you and not with her—it wouldn’t be fair to any of us.”
Bart sighed. “You really like her?”
Eli wrapped a hand behind Bart’s neck and pulled him close again, kissing his forehead. “If for no other reason, I’d love her for the way she is with you. She’s perfect for you, mon amour. And I think she might be perfect for me, too.” Then he pulled back and grinned at Bart. “Now I think it might be about time the little minx got that spankin’, don’t you?”
Startled, Bart stared at him for a just a second, and then a grin pulled at his lips. As he thought about his adventurous, provocative, managing fiancée, the grin grew wider. “She dared you, huh?”
“That, she did.” Eli’s eyes twinkled in the dim light. “Crossed her arms, stuck out that stubborn little chin and said, ‘Just try it.’”
Hot blood surged into Bart’s dick. “She’s already thought about this, hasn’t she? It’s what she’s hoping for.”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”
Pressing his palm against his bulging fly, Bart gave a breathless laugh. Rhonda might be untouchable in the boxing ring, but she had no idea what she’d opened herself up for when she put herself in Elijah Bell’s sights. And Eli might be in for a little surprise himself.
He couldn’t wait to see the sparks start to fly.
“Then let’s go,” he said, picking up Eli’s bag and handing it to him. “She’s probably climbing the walls waiting for us.”
Chapter Six
It was hard to concentrate when she’d just taken the biggest gamble of her life by sending the man she loved off with his former lover.
Rhonda put down her phone, which hadn’t received a call or a text all evening, and got up from the bed. Walking to the window for the tenth time in as many minutes, she stared down at the still-bustling streets of the French Quarter, as if she could see Bart at night from twenty-six floors up. On the widescreen TV behind her, a studio audience cracked up at something Jimmy Fallon said, but she’d completely missed it—just like she’d missed everything else since she got back to the room more than two hours ago.
She put her palm on the cold glass. Was he coming back tonight?
Tears prickled and she blinked them away again, determined not to fuck up her makeup. If Bart didn’t come back soon, maybe she’d go down to the hotel bar and let some stranger on the make buy her drinks until she didn’t care. Maybe she’d go back to his room instead of sleeping here by herself—after all, being unengaged went both ways, didn’t it? No harm, no foul if one of them got lucky with a third party, especially if the other never came back to find out about it.
Tired of seeing her naked ring finger, she let her hand slip away from the window and finally closed the sheers and the heavy curtains with a sigh. She’d hoped they would both get lucky tonight, with each other or with the same third party. But apparently that was asking too much.
Another roar of televised laughter made her pick up the remote and turn off the TV. Sitting in the overstuffed chair, she picked up her phone and started thumbing through her pictures again. Almost all of them were selfies of her and Bart, or pictures of Bart by himself. The selfie of the two of them in headgear at the gym was one of her favorites. And the one of them hoisting beers in Bart’s favorite bar… The one of them on their bikes, with Lake Michigan in the background… They were all her favorites, actually. That was why they were still on her phone.
But then she came to the one she was looking for and sighed as she stroked her fingertip over the screen. It was Bart at home, grilling on the back porch in khaki shorts and a tee shirt. There was nothing special about it—no occasion or anything—but the way he looked at her had taken her breath away. It still did every time she looked at it. There was no way anyone could look at this picture of Bart and doubt that he loved her just as much as she loved him.
And she loved him to distraction. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Tall and strong as an ox, and yet incredibly sensitive. Adventurous and fun loving, and yet responsible. Handsome and a terrible flirt, and yet humble and eager to please. And as if all that weren’t enough to make her happy, he was perpetually horny and could go for hours without coming. He always took his cues from her, doing whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it, and only teasing when he thought she was in the mood for it.
In short, Bart Rigger was a rare prize and any woman with half a brain would never let him out of her sight. But that was exactly what she’d done, because she had no choice—there was obviously a strong, complex emotional bond between Bart and Eli that had lasted almost twice as long as the one between her and Bart. If it hadn’t weakened after ten years apart, it probably wasn’t going to, and she’d realized almost right away that if she were going to keep Bart in her life, she’d have to accept Eli, too.
Which hadn’t seemed all that bad in the moment because she was attracted to Eli, too. So wildly attracted she’d felt a little guilty for being unfaithful to Bart, if only in her imagination. And Eli had seemed equally attracted to her, and eager to play the stern disciplinarian to her bratty bad girl.
That was one of her most frequent sexual fantasies, one she’d never tried to get Bart to fulfill for her. He could get pretty rough in bed when she was in the mood for it, but he just wasn’t a controlling kind of guy—something she wouldn’t dream of complaining about—and he’d never been into role-playing. And sex with two men had always been her other go-to sexual fantasy, so sharing Bart with Eli had suddenly seemed not only possible, but like a damn good idea.
In hindsight, it was probably the stupidest idea she’d ever had. Bart had never given any indication he might want to share her. Yeah, he’d
been turned on by her dirty dancing with Alyssa at Tim’s Christmas party that first year, and she’d enjoyed adding to his discomfort by tossing in a little kissing and groping. She’d definitely enjoyed the way he attacked her on the front seat of his truck afterward. But that was the only time they’d ever even come close to adding a third into their mix.
And why in God’s name had she imagined Eli might be interested in her that way once she found out he was bi rather than gay? Just because he liked women didn’t give her an automatic in with him. Okay, so he’d flirted with her. Big deal. She flirted with people she wasn’t interested in all the damn time, both men and women, and everyone involved knew it was meaningless. It was like trash talking—you did it for the fun of it, just to see how far you could push someone, and how far you could stand to be pushed.
She had to accept that Eli probably wasn’t interested in anyone but Bart. If he were, he wouldn’t have been so eager to get him alone.
Which meant somebody was about to be subtracted from the picture, and she had a bad feeling it was going to be her. Had it already happened? Had Eli taken Bart back to his grandmother’s little house in Mid-City and started making up for lost time?
Would she ever see Bart again, except to say goodbye when he picked up his stuff?
Feeling a sob building in her chest, she slammed the phone down on the desk beside her and lurched into action, finally kicking off her heels and standing to unzip her skirt. She might as well go to bed—she tended to be an emotional drunk, and getting plastered right now would only make her lose control of her tears. She’d wind up howling like a banshee and looking like a ghoul, and probably throwing a punch at some poor bastard who just wanted a little action in exchange for the expensive drinks. That would be fun, calling Bart from the city jail to ask for bail money.
She pulled her pretty shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor with the skirt, then padded barefoot into the bathroom to take off her jewelry. All of it this time. It was enough to bring her to tears again—she usually slept with Bart’s ring on. She never took it off except when she was on the job or doing dirty work.
She was just about to corral her hair into a ponytail for the night and take off her makeup when the electronic lock on the room door hummed and clicked. The sound made her freeze for just a second, and then she stepped out into the short hall just as the handle turned, her heart pounding with guarded joy. Bart was here—for whatever reason, he was here, and she couldn’t wait to see his face again, to hold him and kiss him. If she had to say goodbye to him, too…well, she’d deal with it when it came.
But it wasn’t Bart who opened the door and walked in—it was Eli.
Oh God, Bart had sent Eli to dump her?
He took one look at her face and his eyes widened. “Whoa, hold on, chère! Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it.” He stepped back and said, “Get in here, son—your fiancée’s lookin’ like her world just ended.”
And then Bart was there, elbowing past him to snatch her up off the floor. “Baby, it’s okay. I’m here.”
“Bart!” She hugged his neck, crying and clutching at him as she shook with relief so profound she could hardly breathe. “I love you, I love you,” she whispered, stringing kisses across his stubble-roughened cheek. “God, I love you so much!”
“I love you too, baby,” he groaned. “Don’t ever doubt it. Not for a minute, Rhonda.”
He just held her for a long moment, squeezing her so tight she could feel his heart beating—quickly, like hers. Then she realized Eli was still standing there.
“What’s Eli doing here?” she asked cautiously without loosening her grip on Bart.
Eli smiled. “Watchin’ a beautiful reunion of lovers at the moment, chère. Thank you for allowing me to be here for it.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that she hadn’t allowed anything, but she didn’t want to spoil the mood. “Thank you for bringing him back.”
He inclined his dark head but said nothing.
Bart’s hold eased then, and she slid down until her feet were flat on the carpet. He took her face in his cool hands and kissed her sweetly, sensually, sipping at her lips and teasing at them with his tongue until she sighed and opened for him, her hands curled loosely against the front of his windbreaker. Their tongues touched and then circled each other in greeting before settling in to explore familiar territory that was somehow brand new tonight.
When he raised his head, he was the one who sighed. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“Me too,” she said, smiling at him.
Then he set her away from him and crossed his arms, looking every inch of his six-foot-four and then some. “And now there’s something else you need, Ronnie.”
Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, she glanced at Eli and bit her lip as a blush worked its way up her neck into her cheeks. Showing him her tummy online hadn’t bothered her, but standing before him in her bra and thong while he and Bart were fully clothed was unnerving—not to mention damn titillating.
“What are you talking about?” she asked Bart.
“You’ve been Skyping with Eli.”
Rhonda blinked at his accusing tone and her heart beat harder as her blush burned hotter. “Just once. It was a video consultation.”
“Why would Eli need a video consultation for a simple belly button piercing? He could probably do that with his eyes closed.”
Oops. “Um, well, I was thinking about getting another tattoo, and…”
Bart raised his brows.
She sighed. “Okay, so I wanted to see him. Do you blame me? He was your lover, Bart. I wanted to find out what he was like.”
“And did you like what you saw?”
“Well…” She licked her lips. “He seemed nice enough.”
“That’s not what I asked, Ronnie.”
Fed up with being on the defensive, she put her hands on her hips. “Why are you interrogating me? You’re the one who just went out with him for the evening.”
Eli chuckled and Bart looked back at him with a grin. “She’s all yours, dude, and I think a spanking is definitely in order.”
“What!” Rhonda took two steps back, instinctively covering her naked butt with her hands as her pulse ratcheted up into rabbit mode. “Bart what are you doing?”
“Stay right there, chère.” Eli dropped the bag and unzipped his coat with an expression that somehow managed to be a smile and a threat at the same time. “Now, I’m going to ask you a couple o’ very important questions,” he said as he shrugged out of the coat, “and you need to answer them honestly.”
“What questions?”
He folded the coat in half and draped it over his bag. “First, are you willing to share Bart with me?”
After the last two hours of thinking she was losing him altogether, she didn’t even have to think about it. But was it too greedy that she was still hoping for more? “Yes, if that’s what he wants.” She looked at Bart. “But I need to hear it from him.”
His expression was nervous but hopeful. “I love him, Ronnie. I need him. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I just didn’t know how and I didn’t see the point when it was so hopeless.” He swallowed audibly. “But I can’t live without you in my life. I’d be nothing without you. I love you, baby. Love you so much it hurts.”
“Oh, honey…” Rhonda took back the space she’d put between them and reached up to cup his cheek.
He grabbed her hand and kissed it fervently. “Say yes. Please.”
“Bart, of course!” she said, stretching up on her toes hug his neck again. “I’d never have started this if I weren’t prepared to do whatever it took to make you happy. I want you to have what you need. Everything you need.”
“That’s wonderful, chère. Thank you.” Eli’s smile was so genuine and filled with approval it made her feel warm all over. “I’d be an unhappy man if I had to fight you for him—I’ve heard rumors you’re a terror in the boxing ring.”
She l
et Bart go and turned to face Eli with a grin. “I’ve heard that, too.”
“So now, the next question…” He prowled toward her. “Are you willing to be shared, specifically between me and Bart?”
Rhonda’s breath left her in a gust and her heart hammered against her breastbone as she looked up at Bart with a question in her eyes. Really? When he responded with raised eyebrows and a hint of a grin, she thought about pinching herself. Could this be real?
Licking her lips, she asked Eli, “You mean, shared as in…”
“As in me sharing your bed just like Bart does, pichouette.” He stopped in front of her, trapping her between him and Bart. “A true ménage à trois, not just a pair and a spare. You don’t have to love me like you love him, at least not at first, but I won’t be a spare in the bedroom—or anywhere else, if I can help it.”
Excitement made her tremble, but she couldn’t resist challenging him. “Depends on how good you are, I guess.”
Eli hooted. “Hoo-boy, here we go. I’d be a fool not to accept that challenge.”
“But how’s this going to work, exactly?” she asked with a frown. “We’re going back to Chicago in a few days, and long-distance relationships are difficult enough with just two people involved. It’ll be kind of hard for you not to feel like the spare when we’re there together and you’re here.”
“Why don’t we let the future take care of itself for now while we find out how well we all play together.” He gathered a handful of her hair in his hand and slowly twisted, tilting her head back so she couldn’t help but stare at his lean, slightly exotic face, bare inches from hers. His deliberate control of her body fanned the embers already smoldering deep in her belly into flames. “You know what a sexual dominant is, jolie fille?”
Rhonda released a shaky breath. “You?”
“That’s right. And you know what a submissive is?”
“Not me,” she said in all earnestness.
He smiled darkly. “We’ll see. How ’bout a safe word?”
Rhonda gave him a sassy grin. “I don’t know—think you’re gonna need one?”