Love Under Two Introverts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  That has to be worth something.

  “Okay, Clay, I’ve opened the file. This looks really good. It’s exactly what we talked about, and what I was hoping to have.”

  “I think you’ve got a good hook there with this new sideline. Undertaking excursions on waterways within a couple of hours’ drive of the city, in places that are so idyllic, that’s going to be a big draw come the summer. It’ll appeal to those who long for the ambience of a vacation, but don’t have the time to take one.”

  “That was our idea, exactly. If this works out, Sally and I were thinking about adding overnights and dinner cruises to the excursion packages as well. We just have to find the right partners for that. We’ve been looking at some of the bed-and-breakfasts within an easy commute. We’ve also found a couple of dinner-cruise companies, one that has boats on the lake, sailing out of Toronto, and one that explores the Trent Waterway. There are a lot of potential partners for us out there, it’s just a matter of finding the right fit.”

  “You know, if we were still back in the city, I would totally go for something like that. The perfect mini vacations, overnight excursions where the family can decompress and reconnect and be a family.”

  “Write those words down, pal, for our next ad campaign. I like ’em. Meanwhile I’ll send you a confirmation e-mail for this brochure, so we have the paperwork covered.”

  Clay smiled and turned to his laptop. He made some notes in Johnny’s file about a possible future ad campaign, including those words he’d just tossed out. His e-mail pinged. “Okay, great, if you don’t think you’re going to want any changes, I’ll send you the high-res file your printing company is going to need. And if you do find you need changes after they get it, that’s no problem.” Clay clicked on his e-mail just as another ping sounded.

  “I’ll do an extra proof once the printer shows me the setup,” Johnny said. “But I think this is damn near perfect.”

  The second e-mail was Johnny’s official acceptance. The first was from a sender he didn’t recognize. Normally he’d dismiss such an e-mail as spam. He got a few of those every day.

  His gaze wandered to the subject line, and a chill swept him. I know what you’ve done, Clayton Dorchester, and you’re going to pay.

  “Clay? Are you there?”

  He had to struggle to bring his focus back to the conversation again. “Sorry, Johnny, I got distracted for just a moment.”

  “Not a problem. Tell me, are the trees green down there yet?”

  Clay turned his back on his computer screen and looked out the large window that made this space so nice to spend time in. “Are they green yet? Johnny, some of them are green still. I was just thinking earlier that the wildflowers should be out any time, now. I’ll take a picture on my cell phone and send it to you as soon as they are.”

  Johnny snorted. “We got another dumping of snow last night, and our third polar blast in two months rolled in on the snow’s ass. Right now, pal of mine, I think I hate you.”

  Clay laughed. “Hey, I’ve missed the snow, Johnny. I really have! On Christmas Day.”

  “Smartass. Listen, I’ll let you get back to work. Send the invoice and I’ll dump cash into your bank account.”

  “Will do, Johnny. Say hi to Sally for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Clay reached down to his phone and made sure the call had disconnected, and then took one more moment to take in the view. I do miss the snow…aesthetically, anyway. I don’t miss hauling on twenty pounds of outdoor gear just to run out for groceries or to put gas in the car.

  Clay sighed and turned back to his computer. His e-mail screen was still up, which reminded him that he needed to file Johnny’s acceptance and send him the high resolution copy of the brochure so his printing company could get to work.

  Clay saved the acceptance e-mail from Sports To Go, Canada, then sent along the file. While he had the work order open, he took a few moments to write the invoice and sent that along as a separate communication, too.

  He returned to his e-mail screen and set his gaze on the other item that had just arrived, the one with the ominous subject line. Clay very nearly just sent the document to trash without opening it. Then he shrugged. It would only take a moment to open and read—although of course, he wouldn’t click on any links it might have inside it. It could still be spam—he’d gotten several last year with the subject title, “Your criminal record has come to light.” At the time he’d thought that was funny as hell because, of course, he didn’t have a criminal record. But he’d clicked on it and it was an e-mail selling cut-rate drugs from Canadian pharmacies. That was even funnier, since, of course, living in Toronto, Ontario, his local drug store was a Canadian pharmacy.

  Clay didn’t recognize the sender of this e-mail, but as he opened and began to read it, the question of who would send such a thing was quickly eclipsed by two other questions—what the hell was going on, and why was this happening.

  You killed Victoria so we could be together, darling. I know you did. Did you forget about me? I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to let me know you were ready for us to start our life together. Don’t wait too much longer, my Clayton. I won’t be patient forever.

  The message was signed, your one true love.

  Clay sat back, momentarily stunned. What the hell? Clay reread the note, but it didn’t make any more sense the second time around. This couldn’t be from anyone he knew…anyone they had known, he and Vicky.

  This had to be some kind of sick joke. Or maybe it was some sort of a vicious prank.

  Or maybe someone is setting me up for some kind of scam. Clay didn’t know anything about this sort of thing. Sure, he’d heard there were some sick people who would take advantage of something like a death in the family to try and scam…well, to try and scam just about anything.

  But what kind of fucking sick approach was this? As he read the message again, an incredible anger bubbled up within him. Kill his wife? He’d have given his life for hers in a heartbeat!

  Clay pulled his cell phone from his belt and held it in his hand. He looked from his computer screen to it, hesitant. Yes, the anger was fierce within him but he had to set that aside and think. Part of him wanted to just write this lone e-mail off. Forget about it, and maybe the problem would go away. Maybe it was a one-time-only phishing attempt. But he had never been one to ignore a potential problem, and his gut was telling him this could end up being a doozy.

  Decision made, Clay focused on his phone and began to dial.

  * * * *

  Friday afternoon, Tasha rushed into her apartment after work determined to steep herself in female ritual in preparation for her evening. She had nearly two hours before Clay and Gord were going to pick her up, which was plenty of time. When she could, she loved to indulge in a long, hot bath with soft, silky emollients added to the water. She’d shower when she was done, but nothing said self-indulgence to Tasha the way that soaking in a tub of bath oils did. The steam lifted the aroma into the air, and the super-sexy glide of the treated water against her flesh whispered of carnal pleasures yet to come.

  Today, Tasha indulged in the long, lovely soak with the single-minded purpose of preparing herself for her lovers.

  There was no need to shave, as she routinely waxed—not only her mons but her legs and underarms, too. So she relaxed back in the tub and put her thoughts on the men with whom she would spend the next twenty-four, or so, hours. The two men had one thing in common, something she hadn’t guessed at when she’d first met them.

  They were both quiet and a little shy, but those reticent natures of theirs covered up great steaming wells of passion.

  Wells of passion that were, before very long, going to be poured out all over her.

  I can hardly wait.

  She’d slept well Wednesday evening, when Clay and Gord finally brought her home. Tonight, she’d bet she would sleep a whole lot better, snuggled down between the two of them.

  Tasha sighed and pulled the plug
on her tub, finishing her routine by letting the shower rain down on her, rinsing off the excess bath oil. It was time to start getting ready, and Tasha didn’t really care too much what she wore on the outside for this date. Jeans and sweater together made a good casual combination, and she had plenty of both. Instead, she focused all her attention on what she was going to wear beneath her clothing.

  Tasha owned a wicked, barely there black shelf bra that she’d only worn occasionally. The bra had come with a soft-as-silk matching pair of thong panties.

  Tasha examined her appearance in the full-length mirror on her closet door. This set said “fuck me now” and, she imagined, it would make those two men drool. She wondered how long she’d keep the lingerie on once they were revealed.

  Probably not very long at all.

  She pulled on her favorite jeans and a very pretty angora sweater. Midnight blue, V-neck, the sweater really showcased her generous breasts. Yup, there’s going to be some tongue swallowing tonight even before the kissing starts.

  The soft denim and even softer sweater hugged and caressed her figure. She pulled her long black hair up into a high ponytail, letting it swing saucily down her back. She turned slightly and assessed her appearance.

  She needed one more accent, something that would make her feel good. Grinning, she reached for her large jewelry box, and began to search for just the item she needed.

  The teal and gold choker was one of her favorite accessories, handmade when she discovered that this style of necklace was out of fashion.

  Tasha was capable of being the most devout fashionista—but she tended mostly to overthrow chic and “in” for the comfortable. In her view, if she felt sexy, then hell, she was sexy.

  It took her only a couple of minutes to toss together some clothes for the morning. Her small overnight bag was soon packed with a fresh set of underwear and a T-shirt.

  She went back into her closet and grabbed a light jacket, just in case the temperatures took a dip overnight. The weather had been bat-shit crazy this year so far. The normal Central Texas climate had taken a hike just before Christmas. She hoped to hell it would be back, soon.

  Although I wouldn’t mind if it was a little less hot and humid through the summer. Of course, she meant weather-wise. She wouldn’t mind having a hot summer—and autumn, too—when it came to her personal life.

  The knock on her apartment door suspended all thought. She placed a hand on her stomach to quell the fluttering. She was nervous. Thank goodness they’d had that time together Wednesday night. Otherwise, she imagined she’d be ready to jump right out of her skin about now.

  Of course now I know what to expect and, oh, momma, I can hardly wait. Before Tasha could lose herself in any more imaginings, she grabbed her stuff and went to answer the door.

  A low whistle and two sexy male smiles greeted her.

  “Lord, darlin’, you’re one hell of a luscious sight.” Gord’s eyes glittered as he looked his fill.

  “It’s going to be hell to do this properly—dinner and then dessert,” Clay said.

  Tasha felt her smile in the quick kisses she gave to each man. Then she stepped back. “I want dinner first, gentlemen. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the calories I can pack in tonight, in order to keep up my strength.”

  Gord nodded. “I didn’t have to stock condoms in the bedside table, because we’re not using them. So I put energy bars there, instead. Lots and lots of energy bars.”

  Tasha burst out laughing, and didn’t resist when Clay scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the building. She had absolute faith that Gord would bring her things and lock her apartment door behind them.

  Chapter 11

  Tasha inhaled deeply when she stepped into Gord’s house. Something smelled wonderful.

  “It’s my mother’s beef brisket recipe.” Gord grinned. “My dad had one, too, that he used the smoker to prepare. I like them both, but this one was easier for today. It’ll be ready in about an hour.”

  Tasha’s tummy growled. “So what else are we having?”

  Gord set her overnight bag down at the bottom of the stairs then came back, put his hands on her waist, and pulled her close. “You.” He laid his lips on hers, his kiss hot and wet.

  Tasha wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She loved his taste, and the way his mouth suckled hers when he kissed. It felt as if he were trying to drink her down in big, thirsty gulps.

  Gord ended their kiss and then grinned at her. “This feels good—all three of us here, together.” He turned her toward Clay.

  Clay scooped her close and kissed her. His flavor mixed with Gord’s on her tongue for just a heartbeat of time. That’s the tastiest appetizer ever. Tasha wondered how this—having two men as lovers—could suit her so well when she’d never once realistically considered the possibility before moving to Lusty.

  Maybe there is something in the water.

  Clay raised his lips from hers, and ran his hands down her back to her bottom. He lifted her, pulling her close. She felt the hardness of his cock and gave her hips a small little roll.

  “Okay, this is going to get out of hand really fast,” he said. He kissed her forehead then set her back. “I heard your stomach growling, woman. I made some nibbles for us to enjoy while we get the rest of the dinner put together.”

  “Hey, it’s not polite to mention to a lady that you heard her stomach growling!” Tasha laughed. When Gord reached for her hand, she gave it to him.

  Clay ran his hand down her back and chuckled. “There sure are a lot of rules for how to handle Southern ladies. Who knew?”

  Tasha nodded enthusiastically. “There are, sir. In fact, I saw a little poster on social media the other day that summed it all up perfectly.”

  “Oh yeah? I guess I need to know about that, then. Care to give me a recap?”

  They entered the kitchen, and here the aroma of roasting beef permeated every inch of air. Tasha inhaled deeply, but resisted the urge to peek in the oven. Likely the brisket was on slow roast, and she didn’t want to let the heat out and interrupt the cooking process.

  “Hmm, let me think.” She accepted Gord’s invitation to have a seat on one of the high stools by the butcher block. “I believe it was something like, ‘always open the door for her, treat her like a lady, speak softly, then grab her hair and smack her ass.’”

  Both men burst out laughing. “I seem to recall you enjoyed having your ass smacked the other day,” Clay said.

  Tasha nodded. “That was a surprise to us all, I think.”

  “Half of the fun is discovering what you like—what we all three like, together,” Gord said.

  “It is.” Tasha nodded enthusiastically. “So let’s get this supper on the table. I’m anxious to explore some more.”

  They fell into working together naturally, as if they had been doing it for years. Tasha washed her hands and then set about chopping the vegetables for a salad. Clay brought out his tray of nibbles—cheese, and crackers, salami and ham. Then he set about making a rice casserole. Gord poured some wine—a really nice pinot noir that Tasha savored. They decided to eat in the kitchen, and after she’d tossed the salad, Tasha explored Gord’s cupboards looking for plates, glasses, and cutlery. And all the while they chatted. Tasha enjoyed the company, and the conversation, immensely.

  In just over an hour, they sat down to eat at the cozy kitchen table, set into a nook with windows looking out into the backyard.

  “This is really good.” Clay closed his eyes as he enjoyed a piece of brisket. “I’m not a bad cook, but this surpasses anything I can make.”

  Gord practically blushed. “Thanks. Mom taught me how to cook when I was a teen. She believed men ought to be able to fend for themselves. And it was a nice way for the two of us to spend time together, too.”

  “You worked with your dad at the garage, didn’t you?” Tasha asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I loved it, too. Dad was really pleased that I inherited the Jessop g
ene for mechanics.” He sliced into a piece of meat. “So did my cousin Terry—that would be Tracy’s brother. Did you meet him yet?” he asked her.

  “I haven’t been introduced to him, no,” Tasha said. “But I had him pointed out to me.”

  Gord shook his head. “He decided a couple months back not to re-up into the Air Force. The man could have written his own ticket, become a chief mechanic for any of the major airlines. But he wanted to come home. He asked me if he could come and work for me, and I said no. I wouldn’t take him on as an employee but I’d be happy to have him as a partner. I think that surprised him, some. He accepted immediately, thank God. With him on board, we’ve been hired on by Kendall Aviation to keep their planes in the air.” Gord grinned.

  “I know that Heather was thrilled her son came home.” Heather Jessop was Tasha’s client from time to time. She really liked the motherly woman.

  “Yeah, Aunt Heather is planning a huge welcome-home party for him in a couple of weeks.” Gord grinned. “If there’s one man in all of the families shyer than I am, that man would be Terry. But he loves his mom, so he’ll be a good sport about it.”

  “Grandma said that Terry had been away for a lot of years, and most of that time he’d been stationed at air bases around the world.” Clay took a sip of his wine. “I know that for me, when I was younger, moving from place to place got really old, really fast. When I was eighteen, we landed in Toronto and that was it for me. Stayed there, and even went to university there. Until I moved us all here this past spring I’d thought I’d spend all of the rest of my life there.”

  His gaze lost focus for just a moment, and Tasha waited. His lapse was just a few seconds, and then he was back with them again. “Anyway, I can certainly sympathize with your cousin’s wanting to just come home, and high salaries from any airline be damned.”