by Lily Harlem
“Get lost, Billy. I’ve had this robe for years and if you’d even once thought I was sexy and come around to spend the night, you’d know I wear this all the time.”
“I do think you’re sexy.” He glared at her.
“No you don’t. You haven’t shown any interest in me or my body for years. I’m not sorry we had what we had, but it’s been over for a long time.” She pointed at the door. “Go. Now.”
“So who is he?” Billy said again, defiance in his voice and stubbornness flashing in his eyes. It was clear he had no intention of leaving.
“I’m not prepared to tell you.”
“Embarrassed of him, are you?” He laughed. “Yeah, I bet he’s some wimpy fuck who can’t lift a damn suitcase.”
“He’s pretty tough actually.”
“Yeah, right. Is that why he’s here hiding in a cupboard?”
“For crying out loud, I’m alone. And that’s how I want to be.” She stomped past him, making sure she gave him a wide berth should he try and grab her. “It’s time for you to go, Billy. You want me to ring the damn police?”
“Huh, as if you’d have the balls to do anything like that.”
“You’d be surprised what I have the balls to do, Billy. Having a shit boyfriend does that to a girl.”
“I’m not a shit boyfriend.” He rushed to follow her, his eyes still flashing
She held up her palms. “Do not touch me,” she snapped. “That is not your place. We are over.”
“No, we need to talk.”
“I don’t need to talk. But I will give you one piece of advice. If you want to find love and happiness, Billy, which I’m sure you do, you’re going to have to step up in the romance stakes and figure out how to treat a woman right.”
“Yeah, the way your new fancy man does, huh?” He leaned closer. “He just wants to get in your knickers, you know.”
“And I’m happy to let him in there.” She pulled open the door. “Now leave.”
“You’re a slut, fucking him so soon after meeting him.”
“Actually, thanks to you, I’ve known him a long time.” She gave him a shove catching him by surprise with her words and her push.
He stepped outside. “What? Who?” Confusion washed over his face. “Thanks to me. How long have you—?”
“Goodbye, Billy. Have a nice life.”
She slammed the door then slotted the chain across. She leaned back onto it, closed her eyes and blew out a breath. The man had a nerve, turning up and pretending to be looking for his crap stuff and accusing her of being a slut.
The more she thought about it, the madder she got. But over and above that she was glad he was gone. He was a big guy with a fiery temper and neither were good to be alone with in an apartment, especially when he wasn’t getting his own way.
He did seem genuinely pissed that she had a new man in her life though. She looked at Dale’s jacket. Was he jealous she was seeing someone else, or was he just mad he’d been dumped? That she’d found someone else before he had. Yes, it must be that. He didn’t actually have any romantic feelings for her anymore. She was sure they’d fizzled out a long time ago, likely at the same time her attraction toward him had slipped down the drain.
Chapter Twelve
Jenny walked into Wainwright and Bramon on Monday morning in her high heels feeling like a new woman. She wore a tight blue skirt teamed with a sheer cream blouse and a string of pearls. Having woken early she’d taken the time to style her hair rather than pulling it back into a ponytail, and had even swept on some of her new pink lipstick.
“Hey, Jenny,” Stella said, placing a cup of tea on her desk. “How’d the date go?” She paused. “You look great by the way, which makes me think the date went great.”
Jenny grinned. She couldn’t help it. Whenever she thought of Dale and Jackson and what was happening, she smiled. And when she remembered she was seeing them that evening, in just a few hours’ time, a wonderful warm buttery feeling slipped through her system and settled between her legs.
Stella chuckled and perched on a spare chair beside Jenny. “Were we right? Sian and I?”
“About?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what.” She lowered her voice. “About them being bi.”
Jenny swallowed, then nodded. “Yes, it’s clear they both like men and women.”
“And that woman is you?” She raised her eyebrows.
“It seems that way.” Jenny picked up a pen and rolled it between her fingers. “Seems they like me very much and have done for a while. All it took was for me to get rid of Billy, be free and single, and then that was it, they’ve made their move.”
Stella shook her head. “If you don’t mind me saying, you should have got rid of him years ago.”
“I know.” She paused. “But it’s complicated. We’ve a lot of history together, from being young, you know.”
“I get it.” She grinned suddenly. “All in the past now though. So do I get any juicy details from Saturday night?”
A sudden image of herself lying on the bed flashed into her mind. Dale between her legs driving her to orgasm, Jackson naked and hard at her side, awaiting his turn to make her come. A small tremor worked its way up her spine and her breasts tingled.
Stella laughed. “No, don’t tell me here. Let’s go for cocktails on Friday. I’ll see if Sian’s free. We can have a proper girly night.” She glanced around the near empty office. “Where no one can hear what we all have to say.”
“I’d love that, but Friday is the big fight.” Jenny hated to turn Stella down. She treasured her company. “I have to be there.”
“And one of them is fighting?”
Jenny hesitated, then gave a small nod.
“Blimey, I know you said you met them at the boxing club, but I didn’t know they were seriously into it.”
“Yes, they are.”
Stella blew out a breath. “Wow, you really have got your hands full.”
“I guess.”
“We’ll do cocktails the week after, no worries. Might be a bit short notice for Sian anyway.”
“Cool, I’ll look forward to it.” Jenny smiled. “Plus by then I’ll have even more to discuss, I’m sure.”
“And you know we’ll be there for you.”
“I appreciate that, really I do.”
“Stella.” Andre’s voice rolled toward them. “I need you in here.”
Stella glanced over her shoulder, her bubbles of blonde hair bouncing as she did so. “Coming.” She stood.
Andre was in the doorway of his office, one hand on the frame. As Stella headed toward him, he continued to stand there, watching her, a mesmerized expression on his face.
Jenny smiled and set down the pen she’d been fiddling with. There was no doubt about it. Andre Bramon was smitten with his personal assistant.
For a long time Jenny had wanted to be more like Stella. Now here she was, not just dressing more feminine and taking time over her appearance like her, but also—and she’d never had this on her list—but also romancing two men.
Two men.
She shook her head and opened up her computer. Instead of logging into her usual accounts, she brought up a recipe site and started planning the evening’s menu. Lots of protein was in order, and something sweet and chocolaty for dessert seemed like a good plan.
The day dragged, not that Jenny wasn’t busy, but because she was excited for the evening.
Finally, though, she was in a nearby supermarket, list in hand, gathering ingredients for the meal she’d decided upon. After putting antipasti, fresh olive bread, chicken, mushrooms and new potatoes into her basket, she added a chocolate drizzled cheesecake topped with crushed nuts. On her way to the checkout she picked up a four pack of lager and a bottle of fizzy white wine.
As the items went through the check-out a sense of newness and wonder filled her. For so long she’d been a meal-for-one girl. Now here she was purchasing the ingredients for a hearty three-course for three pe
ople. She was truly lucky.
She opted for a taxi home. She didn’t fancy the Tube laden with shopping bags, plus she wanted to make sure she had time to get herself ready.
The sun had sunk below her apartment building when she arrived. The air was still and warm and children played on scooters on the pavement outside. She smiled and dodged them, then rode the elevator. Her mind was full of what to wear. Should she opt for a summery dress? But what if it got cool later and was that sexy enough? Perhaps jeans and a silky top. It was just dinner at someone’s home after all.
As she stepped onto her level she hesitated. A package sat outside her front door. No, it wasn’t a package. It was a bunch of flowers.
For her?
She smiled. Had Dale and Jackson spoiled her?
She hurried up to them, noting they were a selection of burnt orange and coffee-colored geraniums. Not particularly summery, given the time of year. Wrapped in black tissue paper and clear cellophane a couple of the heads had snapped off.
Jenny plucked a white card from the center and flipped it over.
Jenny
It’s time to end this nonsense. I want you back.
Billy
PS - I forgive you for the other man.
“Of all the fucking cheek…” She shook her head and stared at the sprawling writing. He just couldn’t get it into his head they were over. What more could she do? Hadn’t she been clear enough?
Yes. She had. Crystal clear.
She grabbed the flowers and let herself into her apartment. Kicking the door closed, she stomped into the kitchen. As she passed the bin she shoved the flowers into it, heads first. There was no way the ugly things would enjoy a vase. They must have been the absolute cheapest he could find, likely in a sale pot as they were nearly dead anyway.
The same state as their relationship—dead.
Jenny wasn’t sure if she was more cross Billy thought he could demand she go back to him, or the fact he’d ruined her blissfully good mood. But banging about the kitchen wasn’t helping, so she paused what she was doing, pulled in a deep breath and closed her eyes.
He has no hold on me.
With effort, she imagined all the tension leaving her body, flowing down her arms and leaving her fingertips. Seeping down her legs, into her feet then being absorbed by the flooring. There was no need to be stressed. She was okay, more than okay. Not only that, but she had a wonderful evening ahead of her.
When she opened her eyes, the room seemed brighter than it had, and luckily so did her mood.
She finished stacking the ingredients she’d need to make the meal at Dale’s, then ordered another cab for an hour’s time. She headed into her bedroom.
After stripping off her clothes she flicked on the shower. The water was cool and refreshing and she spent a few minutes enjoying being cocooned in its embrace.
Rubbing herself dry, she wondered if the evening would turn sexy again—if she’d get to see Dale and Jackson expressing their desire for each other. She’d adored seeing them kiss…what would it be like to see them do more?
She slathered mango-scented body butter onto her arms and legs. Would they be brave enough to touch each other’s cocks in front of her? Kiss more than mouths? Fuck?
Of course they will.
But as she rubbed cream onto her breasts, she wasn’t so sure. Up until now the men had had a very hushed, secretive relationship. Perhaps they weren’t ready to let her into their private moments.
She pulled on underwear—red lace—and frowned. She’d been laid bare before them, completely exposed physically and emotionally. Of course she’d had a choice, she could have said no. But she hadn’t, she’d been ready to be vulnerable and intimate with them.
Were they ready to go the whole way with her?
A black silky blouse called to her, one she’d bought a few years ago and never worn. She slipped it on, enjoying the feel of the cool material on her warm skin.
The snippets of information she knew about Sian filled her mind. From what she’d gathered Sian had two bisexual men in her life and in her bed. Surely she’d seen them at it. Surely they all ended up in a tangle of sweaty sex where anything went.
That’s what I want.
She paused and looked in the mirror. She’d found over time her needs had often been kept buried, hidden, but not anymore. This new need and desire was profound, and couldn’t be ignored.
Jackson and Dale were in love and enjoying a physical relationship and she wanted to be part of that. Why shouldn’t she? They’d already established they were making a go of a threesome relationship. She wasn’t completely sure of the logistics in the bedroom, but the physical aspect of Dale and Jackson’s love for each other wasn’t something that could be hidden from her.
That just wouldn’t work.
She dragged on skinny jeans, added a patent black belt and a gold necklace with a small heart pendent. It took only a few minutes to fluff her hair and fix her makeup then she added a spritz of fruity-scented perfume.
When she glanced at the clock she realized it was time for her cab. So after grabbing the food she headed out of the apartment, scowling at the bin and the upended flowers as she went.
Twenty minutes later Jenny was standing outside a slick glass, river front apartment block called Thames View. She pressed the intercom to flat twenty-six.
“Hey, pretty lady,” Jackson’s voice.
“Hi, can you let me in?”
“Sure. It’s level five.”
“Thanks.”
The door buzzed and Jenny opened it. Carrying her load of shopping, she took the elevator. It was a swanky, smarter than hers with smoky mirrors and holding the scent of polish. There was a neat red carpet with Thames View stamped onto it.
Cleary Dale’s construction business gave him a good return.
As the elevator doors opened a large figure loomed before her.
Jackson.
“Hey, babe,” he said with a grin. “Let me take those.”
She stepped out and he simultaneously kissed her cheek and took the heavy bags.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. He was wearing a different aftershave and its sandalwood smell warmed her nose.
“This way,” he said, nodding to the right. “Dale’s not home yet.”
“Oh, okay. Problem at work?”
“Not a problem. He’s had a planning inspector on site, and these things often take longer than expected, so he always tells me.”
“Ah, I see.”
He pushed open a door that had been left ajar. “In you go.”
She stepped past him into a light and airy apartment. Unlike her cozy, full to the brim one that was an eclectic mix of colors, patterns and designs, this was minimalist and sleek with a long white leather sofa, wall-mounted TV and a glass bookshelf. The views over the River Thames were stunning. “Nice,” she said.
“Yeah, you can tell he’s in the job of creating homes, eh.” Jackson stepped past her into what she guessed was the kitchen.
She followed, admiring Jackson’s ass as she went. He wore faded denims, the left back pocket ripped and the stitches loose. The black t-shirt he wore was untucked and as her gaze traveled upward she appreciated how tight it was over his thick shoulders and the way it hugged his biceps. He was one hot bloke not least because he was so comfortable in his big body and moved with such grace. She didn’t imagine he had a vain bone in him. He was always casual and at ease.
He dumped the bags on an island topped with a shiny granite surface. This room had more views of the river as it meandered through the city, and tonight the setting sun had turned the water from its usual mud brown to a rich golden.
“This is lovely,” she said.
“Do you still want to cook?” Jackson asked, reaching into a cupboard and plucking out a wine glass. “We could get takeout.”
“Are you kidding? Cook in here? It will be a treat.”
He grinned and poured a glass of red wine. “If you want help let me
know. I’m not much of a chef but I can chop.” He handed her the drink.
“Thanks. I might take you up on that.”
“You look nice,” he said, scooping up an open beer and taking a gulp.
“Thank you.”
“Black silk suits you.” He tipped his head, still studying her.
Jenny was aware of heat flooding her cheeks as she took a sip of her drink. She wasn’t used to compliments.
He must have noticed because he set down his beer and came to stand next to her, his arm brushing her shoulder. “Get used to it,” he whispered against her ear.
“Get used to what?” she asked, setting aside her wine and plucking the mushrooms from the bag.
“Being told you’re gorgeous and I want you.”
The heat spread to her chest, and down between her legs. She looked up at him. “It might take a while. When you’re told you’re worthless and ugly enough times you start to believe it.”
“Babe.” He took the mushrooms from her and turned her face to his.
He was scowling, his eyes narrow and his brow creased.
“And it wasn’t just Billy,” she said then pulled in a deep breath. “After Mum died, I was never much use to my father.”
“Much use?” His frown deepened.
She shrugged and tried to turn away, but he kept her facing him.
“What do you mean never much use?”
“I tried to help him, look after him. But he coped with his grief by hitting the bottle. He wasn’t a happy drunk, he just got mean.” She paused. “Eventually his liver gave up.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, it wasn’t your fault.”
“No, but that’s a shitty thing to go through.” He ran his hand down her neck and squeezed her shoulder.
“It’s history now, but Billy was there for me…so you see why it’s been hard finishing it with him. We go way back.”
“I can’t imagine him being there for anyone. He’s a selfish, money grabbing bastard.”
She huffed. “Yeah, a career changing injury can do that to a guy.”