Rissa’s Men (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Marla Monroe

  Rissa wished she had a girlfriend she trusted enough to talk with about things like that. Since losing her mom, she’d felt alone in the world other than her father. She sure couldn’t talk to him about things like that. Neither would she ever dream of talking to her brother about anything remotely personal. They’d never been especially close, but since he’d gotten engaged, he’d been even more remote.

  “No feeling sorry for myself. I have too much to get done. I’m going to be just fine without Brad and his agenda.”

  She decided that she’d check on how things were going at the building the next morning. She had an appointment to get her hair done for the dinner party that evening but would have plenty of time to look around at the changes. Rissa couldn’t wait to see what progress they’d made. Jethro had promised they’d start work on the floor that would be her home by now. She couldn’t wait to see where they were on her dream.

  She plopped down on the couch, grabbing her phone and scrolling through the numbers absently. She had tons of acquaintances, but no one she felt close enough with to call about her breakup. It said something about the people she hung around with. None of them were really that close. She’d go shopping with them or meet up for spa days or lunches at one their favorite bistros, but she wouldn’t share something so momentous in her life when they’d just think she was crazy.

  They sure thought she was about opening her boutique. Sure, if she were going to have someone else run it, it might be fun, but the idea that she was going to manage it herself was absurd. Why would she want to pin herself down with something like that? As a wife to Brad, or whomever she ended up with, it was her place to look pretty and run their household, oversee their dinner parties, not run a store. How crass was that?

  Well, crass or not, she was going to open Rissa’s Intimates and have fun doing it. She’d have her own apartment upstairs where she could be herself and decorate like she wanted. She wouldn’t hire anyone to “tap into her inner self” and make it into a showplace. She wanted a home that was comfortable, where she could toss a magazine on the coffee table if she wanted to or sit with her feet up on it while she read.

  Rissa looked around at the condo she currently occupied. Yes, occupied was the correct word. She really didn’t live there. She slept in the bed there and got ready for the many parties she attended, but she didn’t really live there. The sofa was too expensive and elegant for her to curl up with a good book or fall asleep on. The wing chairs were too uncomfortable for that as well. No, this was a showplace, not a home.

  I’ve turned into my mother and my brother. I swore I wouldn’t settle for living half a life like they had.

  She’d loved her mother more than anything and could talk to her about all of her dreams and worries, but her mom had settled for the man her parents had picked out for her. Though she’d claimed to have fallen in love with him, her mother had lived half a life, always catering to his wishes instead of spreading out to realize her own.

  Rissa was sure her father had loved her mother in his own way, but there hadn’t been the fire and passion she’d seen in some people’s lives. She wanted that in her life when she found her love.

  Unless love is all a myth and only found in the romance novels I read. Am I asking for too much? Was Brad the only possibility for me out there?

  She refused to accept that. There was someone out there just for her. Someone she could fall in love with and who would fall in love with her. She just had to search for him, and she would. After she realized her dream.

  * * * *

  Rissa could barely keep the excitement under control. She grabbed the hard hat she’d kept in her car and planted it on her head. It was a good thing she’d be going to the hairdressers after this. Her hair would be sticking straight up when she pulled the hat off.

  There were trucks parked all around the building, some with wood piled high and others empty save discarded pallets. She could hear the whirring of saws and banging of hammers even from outside. The front door was standing wide open. She entered to find several workers carrying wood up the stairs in the back. Jethro and Deacon were nowhere to be found. She felt a little unsure about being in the building without them.

  That’s ridiculous. It’s my building. They wouldn’t hire men they didn’t trust.

  She could walk around the entire place without worrying about her safety as long as she had her hard hat on.

  “You looking for the bosses?” One of the men stopped what he’d been doing and walked over to her.

  “Yes, I am. Are they here?” she asked.

  “Top floor. Elevator isn’t working right now. Doing some work on it,” he said.

  “Thanks. I can take the stairs. They are safe, right?” she asked.

  “Yep. First thing we checked out after making sure the structure was sound.”

  “Thanks.” Rissa crossed the open floor to the stairs. In her plans, the stairs would be hidden in the back away from the display floor.

  She climbed them holding to the rail since she was wearing two-inch heels. She should have remembered to wear sensible shoes. Well, she didn’t really own a pair with anything less than one-inch heels. She’d have to buy some. She would be spending a lot of time walking around her investment.

  She saw Jethro first. His autumn-colored hair drew her attention despite the hard hat covering most of his head. His wide shoulders were bent over a table as he ran the saw thing over an expanse of wood. She imagined he had muscles beneath the T-shirt he wore. She could see how his arms flexed with the effort of controlling the tool.

  “Checking up on us again?”

  Rissa nearly screamed, but she did jump at the sound of Deacon’s raspy voice behind her.

  “Goodness. I didn’t hear you walk up. I’m not checking up on you. Just seeing what you’re doing.” She blinked a few times then shook her head. “That sounds the same, doesn’t it? I’m just excited and want to see every step as you make my dream a reality. That’s all.”

  The big man didn’t smile, but his eyes appeared a little less brooding as he nodded. “Yep, same thing, but that’s okay. Jethro said you’d be stopping by pretty regular. I’ll show you around what we’ve gotten finished so far.”

  She shivered as he took her elbow and guided her to the back of the building where several men were making what looked like walls.

  “They’re framing up the first bedroom. It’s not the master, but we need it up before we work on the master,” he told her.

  “It looks so small. I thought I had it larger than that.” Rissa frowned.

  “Oh, it’s bigger than you think. The frame always makes it look smaller than it is. You’ll see.”

  God, his voice rasped over her like nails digging down her back, but in a good way. A sexy way. She wanted to hear him talk more.

  She stretched up to touch one of the boards that made up what he’d called the frame. She wanted to touch as much of her dream as was possible.

  “What the hell?” Deacon turned her around to face him. “Who the fuck bruised you like that?”

  Rissa looked down at her arm where he was staring. His big hands had her around the waist. Those big hands felt good there and made her feel small despite her plus-sized figure.

  “Oh, it’s nothing. I bruise easily.”

  “The fuck it’s not. No one should ever bruise you like that.” He looked over to where Jethro was laying a board across the things propping up the saw’s table. “Jethro. Come here.”

  The other man looked up, and seeing Rissa, smiled in obvious pleasure. He walked over after setting the tool down.

  “Hey, Rissa. How are you doing?” He stopped just in front of her then frowned.

  “Look at her fucking arms, Jethro.” Deacon lifted the sleeves of her blouse.

  “Who did that to you?” It was the first time she’d ever seen Jethro so upset that his face seemed to shut down.

  “It’s nothing. It won’t happen again,” she told them.

  “It sure as sh
it won’t. I want to know who it was, so I can teach him that you don’t hurt women,” Deacon snarled.

  “Really. Thanks for feeling so strongly about it, but I broke it off with him.” Rissa couldn’t believe how upset the men were over a couple of bruises.

  “Bastard still needs to be taught a lesson,” Deacon said.

  “Had he done this to you in the past?” Jethro asked, searching her eyes as if seeking the truth.

  “No. He’s never been physical with me before. He was angry because I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. He’ll get over it. He was just using me to get into Daddy’s good graces. I should have broken it off a long time ago, but it was just easier to keep things the way they were.”

  “What made you decide to kick his ass to the curb?” Jethro asked.

  “The fact that he was pissed when I called him to tell him I was going to be late for our dinner date when I had the flat tire. He didn’t care that I was on the road by myself. All he cared about was that I was making him late,” she said.

  “Fucking asshole knew you were out there and didn’t come see about you. You sure as hell don’t need him in your life, babe. He’s a worthless pussy if he can’t be bothered to take care of his woman.” Deacon shook his head. “He bothers you again, you come to us. We’ll set his ass straight.”

  Rissa was shocked. They were standing up for her. It had her heart beating like a bass drum to know that they barely knew her and were still upset that Brad had been an asshole to her.

  “Thanks, but I doubt I’ll see him again outside of the occasional dinner part he’s invited to,” she told them.

  “Stay the hell away from him even in public. He’s not worth your time,” Jethro said.

  “Enough about him. He’s out of the picture. I want to see what’s going on here. I can’t wait to see what you’ve gotten done.”

  They showed her around the wide expanse of space where they’d started putting up walls and framed areas off as they’d explained it to her. She couldn’t see how things were going to look yet, but she trusted that they knew what they were doing. She’d researched them extensively before hiring them. She was positive they’d soon have her dream blossoming in the open space.

  “About the skylights,” Jethro said.

  “Oh, can’t you do them?” she asked, worried that part of her plan wasn’t going to be able to come true.

  “Yeah, doll. That won’t be a problem, but we were wondering if you’d like to have one in the master bath as well. There aren’t any taller buildings anywhere near yours, so people wouldn’t be able to look in from above you.” Jethro smiled. “Thought we’d see if you wanted one there.”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful. I hadn’t thought about one in there. Yes. I’d like that,” she said, beaming at the two men.

  “Great. We’ll adjust the plans to fit that in.” Jethro’s smile did funny things to her insides.

  Deacon’s intense stare had her pussy clenching at the thought of all that focus on her as he fucked her. Yeah, it would be fucking. He was someone who made love dirty and wild. Just once in her life she’d like to feel that kind of energy from a man. She looked over at Jethro.

  Maybe even from two such men.

  “Thanks for the tour, guys. I better go. I know I’m cutting into your time when I stop by, but I can’t help but be excited about seeing it all come together. Thanks for putting up with me like this.” She smiled from Jethro to Deacon.

  “No trouble at all, Rissa. Stop by anytime you want to. Just be careful and always remember to wear that hard hat.” Jethro ran a hand down her arm.

  “I’ll walk you out to be sure the guys downstairs don’t accidentally run into you with something they’re carrying around.” Deacon held her elbow as they walked across the room to the stairs.

  On the way down, he made sure she was just a little behind him as if he’d block her fall should she lose her footing. It was another reason she was attracted to the two men. They honestly believed in taking care of her as a woman. Was this how the middle-class woman felt? Was she used to being treated like something special by her man? Rissa liked to think so. The men she’d been around sure didn’t act like this.

  Deacon walked her all the way out to her car. “Buckle up. And remember what we said. That bastard bothers you again, you call us to take care of it.”

  “Thanks. Really, thanks. I don’t expect him to even talk to me after I broke it off with him.”

  Rissa smiled up at Deacon. She had to tilt her head back even with her heels on. He was a mountain of a man with a broad chest and even wider shoulders. She was sure she’d feel protected in his arms if she ever needed him. For an instant, she wanted to need him just so she could experience that feeling for once in her life.

  She desperately wanted to feel it, just once.

  But once might not be enough.

  Chapter Five

  “Calm down, Deacon. She’s okay and she’s gotten rid of the asshole. She’ll be fine.” Jethro would have smiled at the sight of his best friend pacing if he didn’t know how serious Deacon was.

  “The bastard left marks on her arms in the shape of his fucking fingers. Don’t tell me to calm down. I want to find that douchebag and pound his face for what he did to her.” Deacon walked back and forth with his hands on his hips as if afraid he might hit something.

  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d plowed his fist through a wall in frustration. He might take his anger out on an inanimate object, but he’d never harm a woman. It just wasn’t in the man. In either of them. They loved women, appreciated them, doted on them. It was something they both freely admitted, but when Deacon was upset or angry over something, he took it out on the walls, the desk, or the chairs around him. That he was resisting the need to pound something said that he valued Rissa’s project a hell of a lot.

  “I don’t blame you. I’d like to go a round with the fucker myself, but unless he gets near her again, we’re going to have to trust that she knows him well enough to know that he won’t bother her again. Rein it in, Deacon. We’ve got work to do.”

  Deacon kicked one of the sawhorses, making the sawdust on the board covering them shower the floor below it.

  “Looks like you care about her a little more than you said you did,” Jethro probed.

  “I don’t like men who hurt women. Period.”

  “Neither do I, but you don’t see me throwing a hissy fit.”

  “Fuck you. I’m not throwing some girly fit. I’m just pissed off at seeing those marks on her arms. It offends me.”

  “Offends you? Where the hell did that come from? You reading the dictionary or something,” Jethro chuckled.

  “To hell with you. I’ve got work to do.” Deacon stomped off in a huff, leaving Jethro smiling.

  Yep, his friend was all into Rissa. It wouldn’t take much to push him into trying out a relationship with the pretty, voluptuous redhead. They’d have to go slow. Well, he’d have to. Deacon would go his own speed no matter what Jethro did to try and move him along or pull him in. There was no controlling the man. If he decided he wanted Rissa, he’d move heaven, earth, and hell to get her.

  Maybe with her checking in on them periodically to see what they’d accomplished her presence would grow on the other man to the point that he didn’t care about dating their boss. He sure as hell didn’t care that they worked for her. All he cared about was getting her to accept them as a pair and letting them teach her what two men could do to a woman.

  His dick hardened at the thought of getting her into bed between them. Yet another part of him wanted to see if they could get her to accept them as men in her fancy life. Would she be ashamed to be seen with them, or would she not care what anyone else thought?

  I want her to care about us to the point that nothing matters but being with us as a threesome. I don’t want her to worry about what her friends would think. I want her to want to be ours.

  Deep down he knew he was asking for the impossible, but still, h
is heart wanted what it wanted, and it wanted Rissa as their woman. He sighed and got back to cutting the boards needed to finish framing up the guest bedroom.

  She had two guest bedrooms that shared a Jack and Jill bath as well as the master bedroom with its fancy master bath. It was one he would be proud to build. He could imagine the three of them showering in the huge walk-in shower with its multiple jets and glass-and-stone enclosure. Had she imagined sharing that shower when she’d had it designed that size? There was an extra-large soaker tub as well as a heated towel rack. The his-and-hers vanity spoke of expecting someone to share the space with her, but now that she’d gotten rid of the man in her life, who would that be?

  Despite the huge master bath and equally large his-and-hers walk-in closets, the bedroom itself was surprisingly cozy in size. There was room for a king-sized bed, dresser, chest of drawers, and two nightstands. She might be able to fit a bench at the foot of the bed or a chair in one corner, but that was about it. The bedroom was for sleeping. Or other singularly sexy situations and not for entertaining.

  The living room was wide open with an open kitchen at one end and a dining room large enough to seat twelve next to it. If she wanted to put an extra-large table in it, she could easily seat that many people. He knew that the rich liked their entertaining and would often have extra-large dining areas, where people in his class had much smaller dining rooms if they had them at all. He went more for the eat-in kitchen. Maybe she’d have that since there was a large enough space in the kitchen.

  Another thought crossed his mind. Did she even cook? He knew from experience with building or renovating other homes that most rich people didn’t cook. They either hired a cook or had their events catered. They’d relied on him and Deacon to design the kitchen with a cook in mind, not what they’d want in one.