Foundations: The Power of Three Love Series Page 6

  Until the best friend I knew as Spencer had become a selfish SOB and given Lana an ultimatum, along with the deed to her own hair salon. I would have given her the world, but I was just not going to use my money to get her to choose Arden and me. We wanted her to choose us because she wanted us. But more, we wanted her to know her life was nothing without us—as I had thought of her.

  I craved the touch of a woman. Having a woman watch Arden and me make love or fuck—whatever we were in the mood for—allowed my cock to perform as though an Oscar was on the line. I’d always assumed after Lana, we’d just bring women into our bed and adopt children to make our family complete.

  Arden never lost sight of his dream of having a woman complete us. And Lana did complete us, even with Spencer in the mix.

  The bond that Arden, Spencer, and I shared growing up on the wrong side of Chicago meant our humble backgrounds drove us to be the successful millionaires we were. But it was always Arden’s family, fun and easygoing, who could be credited for the man I’d become today. I’d spent many nights at Arden’s house in fear my mom would beat the shit out of us. My father didn’t have a backbone in his body and succumbed to her every wish.

  Our dreams manifested into something more successful than we’d ever imagined. Arden, without a doubt, took care of his family, moving them to the suburbs of Chicago because they had always wanted to live outside of the city. I’d turned my back on my parents and only helped my brother and sister, ensuring they went to college so they could make better lives for themselves.

  “Hey, you can return to the scene of the crime,” he played, winking my way, “if you promise to behave yourself. I’m not sure our guests would enjoy watching us fuck like rabbits.” When I raised one brow, he smirked, his dimples silently seducing me. “Okay, so you’d enjoy it.” My brow rose higher. “Okay, we’re sexy hot, so maybe they all would,” he surrendered. “But if you want, we can invite Elliot to stay afterward.”

  His comment was met with my middle finger. I summoned all the strength I could to keep my beast at bay with his commentary. Arden stared blankly from across the room. “What’s up with that look?” I asked.

  In his long strides, he was in front of me quickly, his hands in my scalp, working them through my hair. “Can you make me a promise, hon?” His tone burned my skin, accompanied with a strange note I’d heard seldom.

  After my curt nod, he continued, “Can you be nice?”

  “All that indifference in your voice, babe, and you want me to be nice? As though I don’t have manners.” I knew why he wanted me to be “nice.”

  “Fuck you, asshole, you’re so stubborn. Be a shit bag, I don’t care. But I can tell you whose ass you won’t fuck tonight.” The woman has affected him as she has me. He was never this unsteady. That title was reserved for me and me alone.

  He twisted from my hold, but I caught his hand and pulled him back to me. My fingertips traced the bulging muscles of his bicep as I trailed my hand down his arm. It caught his attention, his baby blues, locking on the chocolates in my own eyes.

  Arden often said my eyes reminded him of Whoppers. Deep brown and gigantic, my irises taking up so much of my eyeball. Looking at the ocean of waves my own mind would get lost in, I reached my hand out for his chin. “Babe, you’re not being subtle. Not even a little.”

  “When the fuck have I been known for my subtly?” Arden asked.

  He had me there. “If being nice to Ms. Arnold is important to you, I’ll be like Bob Barker from the Price is Right. I’ll be pleasant, welcoming, and hell, I’ll give her a chance to win a car by the end of the night. Is that what you’d like?”

  He smacked my arm. “You’re such a douche.” A grin traveled from his lips and captured his entire face, bringing out those dimples that were almost as glorious as his ass.

  “But a douche you love,” I countered. “And I’ll be kind to the little minx you want to fuck.”

  Arden shrugged his shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, ass hat, she’s the little minx I want to fuck with you. And … with both of us in her at the same time. So there’s that,” he added. I pulled away from his embrace because my growing erection at his words would only solidify his resolve on the whole subject of Elliot Arnold.

  12

  Elliot

  Having set goals for myself as a young adult, I never had one that centered around me pining for a man I couldn’t have. One day, twenty-four flipping hours was all it took for Arden Blakely to revive me. My memory of his masculine hands taking me over and over again was burned in my mind as deeply as walking in on my parents having sex.

  “I can’t believe you agreed to this, Ell.” Andrew’s pitch rose at his comment, but in it, I sensed the excitement of seeing the multi-millionaires’ home.

  Heaviness settled deep within me, and my skin tingled. I was nervous as hell to see these men who turned me on in their own element. I wasn’t sure if it was a mix of jealousy and pleasure that propelled this uneasy energy, but I’d try to play it cool. But if anyone could decipher this internal pull within me, it would be my best friend.

  “I just want to get along with the men who are signing our paychecks for the next two years. Daimen is a jackass, but maybe if I get to know him outside of work, we can ease up on one another.” I continued to call Mr. Grumpy names to force my mind to remember nothing could ever come of the emotions these men stirred in me.

  “If Daimen, the hot boss, is a jerk, then what does that make you? You’re aware that you’re the female version of him, right?” he teased, raising his eyebrows at me.

  With a high-pitched laugh, I said, “I’m sure that makes me a bitch.” I was amused with his comparison. “And by the way, he’s not our boss.”

  With crossed arms, Andrew’s laughter grew louder. “Sure, Ell, you’ve made that abundantly clear, my dear.” He even winked at me, his indication I was being a bit dramatic.

  As we walked onto the elevator, we heard a familiar voice call out, “Hold up.” Andrew held the open button, and Scarlet ran in quickly.

  “Thanks. By the time you get up there and this elevator comes back down, it is like five minutes, and the boys hate to be held up. They’re both OCD, a good but bad combo.” She was still catching her breath, punching in the code Arden had given me for access to their penthouse. I took notice of her pure beauty. With long red hair that she had pulled back in a braid for now, she was tall, very tall, almost six feet, the same height as Andrew. She had large brown eyes and was thin, super thin, wearing tight green jeans, a loose fitting revealing purple sweater, and tall black boots. I couldn’t pull off the color combination and outfit, but somehow, it worked with Scarlet.

  “You’ve been with them from the beginning?” I asked, making small talk. Okay, I was being nosy too.

  “They are the only family I know. I see them quite often outside of work. I’m moving into this building next week, so then I’ll see them even more. Arden is Arden, he never changes, but Daimen is really a lot of fun when you get him out of the office. When Spencer worked from our building, he was the jokester. I never knew what to expect. They’d always do crazy things. And don’t get me started on April Fool’s Day.”

  “Where’s Spencer now?” I asked, curious—no, I was nosy. Why did he work away from the main offices? I sniffed a juicy story, and like most things that revolved around gossip, it was a drug, and I needed more.

  Scarlet shifted her eyes down, and I knew what uncomfortable looked like. I filed this away for later. Scratching the back of her neck and not making eye contact, Scarlet quickly recovered, replying, “His wife runs one of the full-service salons. Spence has an office close to her on the other side of town. He wants to be near her, just as Daimen and Arden want to work close to one another. He sees to business, getting together monthly for meetings and such.”

  “You’re close to the wife, then?” I asked, somehow intrigued by the dynamics of it all.

  “We were, once.” That was all she divulged, and I was lef
t with many scenarios in my mind.

  This was the very condensed version of the story, and somehow didn’t allude to the second act, but now was not the time to press. The elevator opened to an entryway with expansive views of the Chicago night. To the right, against a wall, was a small table with pictures that called my attention. Setting my purse down next to it, I stared at the one of Arden, Daimen, and Scarlet in front of the Sydney opera house. It was stunning. Shit, they were stunning.

  We both brought expensive wine, although I was sure the fifty-dollar bottle wasn’t quite what the multi-millionaires were accustomed to drinking.

  “Welcome to our home,” Arden boasted, rounding the corner of the little entryway leading to the den. “Hey, Scar!” he hollered in his happy-go-lucky tone.

  “Scar, come in here and taste my man’s marinara sauce. It is to die for.” Daimen called for Scarlet, though I’d yet to see his menacingly handsome darker features.

  “Duty calls. It may be ugly, but someone’s gotta do it.” Scarlet smirked, rounding the corner and disappearing on the other side of the wall.

  My gaze followed Scarlet. She was an enigma in her own right, along with these men I’d yet to figure out. Andrew helped me out of my coat. “She’s sweet and beautiful. Why’s she single?” I asked when Andrew disappeared around the corner to laughter.

  Arden scrubbed his jaw in a way one would if they were in pain. “She didn’t have a Keith; the man who did her in was Jeffery. Same issue. Now, we really watch her. If we have to fuck up another man who messes with her, I’m not sure how we’ll fare next time.” I’d never heard such utter devotion in his words before, accompanied with seriousness.

  “Oh, really.”

  His eyes narrowed in on me when he began. “Not the way you think. We didn’t physically touch him, but money can do a lot of things. Point being, we take care of our own, and Scarlet is ours. We’re responsible for her.”

  “Wow, I’m seeing another side of you,” I said wistfully and was frustrated that this perfect man was taken.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. As protective as I am of her, Daimen is more so,” Arden added as we walked into the kitchen on the other side of the wall in the midst of a serious conversation. Andrew was gone, and I assumed he was in the restroom, but the whispers between Daimen and Scarlet could not be denied.

  All I heard Scarlet say was, “He’s right, honey. You’ve gotta trust him.” I filed that away too for a later discovery of what that conversation could be about.

  “Interrupting?” Arden asked, and I took in a kitchen bigger than my whole loft.

  “Never, sugar,” Scarlet imparted, winking at Arden. “See, Elliot, we’re completely different outside of work,” she added, sitting on top of the counter before she sampled a spoonful of the marinara sauce that was filling the room with its aroma.

  “Oh, feel free to call me Ell, if you want.”

  “Oh, Ell, that suits you.” Scarlet’s eyes were on Daimen’s, whose stare was fluctuating between Arden and me. That confirmed the conversation I’d walked in on was about me.

  “I guess so, but the name Elliot is so unique, just like you,” he piped in, making me blush. He seemed to cause my cheeks to redden when his voice was audible. His tone and his timbre were all it took.

  Daimen glanced my way with a forced smile. “Hello there, Ms. Arnold. How are you?”

  My sharp reply was accompanied by a flatness in my own tone. “Fine, Mr. Torano.” I sure as hell didn’t miss the look exchanged between Arden and Daimen.

  Andrew cut us off quickly when he walked back in the kitchen. “Ell and I both brought a bottle of wine.”

  “Andrew, this is a fucking great choice,” Arden said, looking at the Riesling wine my friend had set down earlier. “It’s one of the best Australian wines—got it last week when we were in down under,” Arden added, looking at the Grosset Polish Hill Reisling.

  “You were in Australia last week?” I asked, thinking of the picture of the three of them at the opera house—that was only last week? I still had pictures to print from college. But again, I didn’t have millions like these two men standing in front of me in jeans and V-neck T-shirts. I wondered if they shared clothes?

  “Elliot … Elliot?” Arden’s voice questioned when I looked up. Thinking of these men and their clothes had me in my own world. He popped the cork, and my focus was back to the conversation. “Actually, all three of us were. It was a vacation, a bonus of sort, but we did have some work. It’s nice being there during their summer.”

  Daimen began to talk more about the subject of wine when he picked my gift up. “Paola Bea Bianca Santa Chiara, 2012. This is an unusual wine but one of my favorites.” Daimen’s frown turned up, and if I wasn’t already leaned up against one of the counters in the kitchen, I might have fainted. “Did Scarlet tell you?”

  “No. I only knew you were connoisseurs, and I Googled wine for geeks. This was one of the ideas,” I explained, my skeptical smirk traveling up my face. Still watching that foreign look on his lips, I decided he looked mighty fine with a smile.

  “Thanks, Ms. Arnold.”

  I gave him a mock curtsey. “You’re welcome, Mr. Torano.”

  Blowing out a deep sigh from his lungs, Arden yelled, “Fuck, this is going to get old.” His gaze swung to me, then to Daimen. “Can you all just call each other by your God-given names, for fuck’s sake?”

  “Well, if it’s for the sake of fuck, I guess so, babe,” Daimen said, pulling him in his arms. If I had to guess, it was a predatorial move. Would he piss a circle around him too?

  Maybe Arden had finally recognized me and told Daimen about our night together. That could have been the reason for such a douche-like move. In all of it, Daimen’s quick humor overtook the Mr. Grumpy from when he’d been in the office.

  I continued to watch both men interact as the evening progressed. They were beautiful together. Not just physically but they suited one another. It was evident by Daimen’s soft strokes on Arden’s arm or the way Arden squeezed Daimen’s thigh when they shared an inside joke. I couldn’t help the fact that every time I’d glanced at any point in the room, Arden’s gaze was always on me. It gave me false hope; hope I knew would never amount to anything.

  13

  Elliot

  My arm was looped through Andrew’s as he walked me the three blocks to my loft. A smile was plastered on my face at the memories of our evening. My mind was on the handsome men when Andrew’s words filled the night air.

  “Hey, Ell, out of curiosity, how gay do you think our bosses are?” Andrew asked.

  “First off, they’re not our bosses,” I spouted off before I could truly comprehend his question. Cocking my head away from my friend, I fixed my eyes on him, asking, “Second, what do you mean, how gay? Are you telling me there are levels?”

  He snorted at me, then slapped his hand over his lips. “Well, sort of, I guess. I’m all the way gay. You can get naked in front of me and have the hottest, loudest orgasm and that won’t do anything for my dick.”

  “Um, well, you know how to make a woman feel special,” I replied, playfully smacking him.

  “Shit, Ell, you know you’re in most men’s wet dreams.” I nodded, accepting the odd compliment. “No, what I mean is that they both gave you attention that they didn’t give to me, a man on the same team as them. I just wonder if they are switch pitchers.”

  Laughter took hold of me as I finally choked out, “Look at you, using sports lingo, though you’ve completely obliterated it.” He stuck his tongue out at me. “It’s called switch hitters. But even if they are bisexual, they’re pretty committed to one another. You can see that, can’t you?”

  “Oh, lord yes. It is actually quite sickening,” Andrew admitted. “I’d love something like what they have,” he added, surprising me. He’d not been in a monogamous relationship in at least three years. “But my point is they find you attractive. You’re certainly appealing to their eyes.”

  “You’re high.”
Again, I swatted his arm.

  “No, I’m telling you, Ell. Keep your eyes open. Even Daimen, Mr. Grumpy as you call him, followed your every move tonight.”

  “I think you’re off base, Andrew. He hates me.”

  He elevated one eyebrow higher than the other. “Or he hates the feelings you bring out in him. That’s what I think it is. You know, I have a radar for these things.”

  I was walking in the frigid winter cold, but my body felt warmth at the thought of either man being attracted to me. If they weren’t gay, either one would be my type. If I was being honest, the thought of two sexy men, together intimately, did something to me. It almost made me want to sprint home and grab my vibrator. I’d download a man-on-man book to my Kindle and get off while reading it, letting my battery-powered friend do all the work.

  “Earth to Ell, what are you thinking?”

  “Oh, nothing. You’re being silly. You know this, right?” Part of me wanted him to be off base while my southern regions needed this to be correct.

  “I don’t think I am, and if I had to wager … you know what I’m talking about. I happen to know what you look like when you’re hot and bothered, and this”—he gestured to my body in an up-and-down motion with his hands—“is the look you have. Flushed skin with your eyes a bit wild.” Hell, he knew me too well.

  “Bullshit. You’re ridiculous, you know.” My poker face was failing me.

  “I know I’m right when you protest this much,” Andrew pointed out. “And it’s okay. I see how you look at me when I’m with a guy. You’re all hot and bothered, honey. You can experiment, you know. Just have fun. They love each other, but it doesn’t hurt to spice it up.”