This is the first chapter of my book Love Slave for Two (book 1). It’s a mmf release, and was the first book Siren-BookStrand published as Tymber Dalton. It’s been six years now, and I still love this book. There are currently five books in the series, including the prequel, LSFT: Beginnings, which charts how Tommy and Tyler got together. This one isn’t really a BDSM book, although there’s a little of that dynamic in the play they do. (Although the prequel and some of the subsequent books do have some BDSM in them.)
[Ménage Amour: Erotic Contemporary Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, M/M, Consensual BDSM]
Nevvie Barton has never truly felt loved or like she belonged anywhere–ever. Abandoned by her adopted family and trapped in an abusive relationship, she takes a job with Tyler Paulson and Thomas Kinsey as their cleaning girl.
Nevvie knows her fantasies about “the boys” will always be just that–the two handsome men are devoted, loving life-partners. Then Tyler and Thomas fall in love with Nevvie and hatch a secret plan to seduce her and make her their permanent third.
For the first time in her life, she feels attractive and wanted. When they ask her to move in and be their personal assistant, Nevvie jumps at the chance. Her planned escape doesn’t go without a hitch, and the boys must rescue her from a brutal man who would rather kill her than let her go.
Can Tyler and Thomas heal Nevvie’s wounded body and soul and prove to her that she really is their dream come true?
“Get your arse out of bed. She’ll be here soon.” Tyler’s clipped British accent spoke volumes. He only sounded that pissed when he was…well, pissed. Over eleven years together had taught Thomas that much.
Thomas rolled over and looked at Tyler. “What time is it?” he grumped.
“Seven-thirty, you silly sod. You had to stay up watching that movie.” Tyler stormed out of their bedroom. Thomas smelled coffee, the good stuff, the caramel truffle flavor Nevvie loved.
“Okay, I’m up.” He would be once Nevvie showed, for sure.
He stumbled to the shower and heard the bathroom door open after he stepped under the spray.
“Here’s your coffee.” Thomas jumped when Tyler goosed his ass.
“Watch it, I nearly slipped.”
“Well, we could have showered together had you gotten up at a decent hour.”
Tyler left, closing the door behind him.
Nevaeh Barton. Their once-a-week housekeeper. Six months, and she still had no clue she had them eating out of her hand. Just thinking about her made him hard. He knew Ty would be sporting wood for her, too.
He finished his shower, shaved, and checked his watch—ten till. No problem, she wasn’t there yet. He sipped his coffee and grabbed a pair of loose shorts from the drawer. Underwear? Hell no, commando today. Thursday was Nevvie Day, the center of their universe.
Thomas walked into the kitchen, where Tyler was putting the finishing touches on a plate of fruit. He leaned in and kissed him. “Look, I’m up.”
“No shirt?” Tyler always dressed up for Nevvie. Today a light blue chambray shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and tan slacks. Barefoot, his only concession to casual.
“I thought maybe she’d like to see me au naturale.”
Tyler’s mood lightened. “She leaves here today, I’d damn well better see you au naturale.”
“See? It’s working already.”
They heard her car in the drive and grinned. “It’s Nevvie time!”
* * * *
Nevaeh Barton relished Thursdays. Not that she enjoyed cleaning so much as she enjoyed the clients. Tyler Paulson and Thomas Kinsey were cute. Thank God Alex never drove her on Thursdays. He’d force her to drop them.
That’s the last thing she wanted.
They were sweethearts, and so what if they were gay? Scratch cute—make that gorgeous. Tyler’s British accent and incredibly blue eyes always melted her. Thomas’ soft, sensual Georgia drawl and smoldering deep brown bedroom eyes invoked images of iced tea and pecan pie, among other things. She left their home late every Thursday afternoon feeling attractive and alive. It didn’t matter she spent the whole day working. She also spent it laughing. Both men were usually there. Most Thursdays it was the three of them having a ball, her and her two sweet love gods.
Making her wish she didn’t have to go home to Alex’s surly mug. She’d only told him they were two gay guys, one a writer, the other an architect. He never asked anything else once he heard “gay.”
But she wondered if there was more. At first she thought she imagined the boys watched her while she worked. After her third week she was sure of it. It might creep others out, but it flattered her that they seemed to find her attractive.
Especially since Alex kept harping on her to lose weight. “Her boys” always piled on the compliments. She wasn’t obese but she wasn’t a waif who’d blow over in a stiff breeze, either. She’d long since come to terms with her voluptuous figure, although she wished more of it had settled on her chest instead of around her hips and thighs. Screw what Alex thought, she was in shape—pear was a shape, right?
Not to mention Alex had no room to talk.
Driving into their development always lifted her spirits even if she was embarrassed to be seen in Alex’s craptacular beater, a Ford Escort she’d put to sleep if it was a dog. Her boys lived in a quiet, upscale community in New Tampa. Only a couple of miles from her apartment, it might as well be another planet. Well-kept houses and lawns and expensive cars formed a stark contrast to the dump she went home to.
She parked behind Thomas’ blue Honda Ridgeline truck and Tyler’s black Lexus LS460L sedan, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her heart raced in anticipation of seeing “her boys.”
It was only her dynamite fantasies of “TnT” that had allowed her to make it through sex with Alex the few times she couldn’t bluff her way out of it. Luckily for her she’d managed to get out of it for over two months. Sometimes she had to give him a hand job—a small price to pay, all things considered.
Landing this job was the best thing to happen in years. She never should have left Tampa in the first place. Moving to New Orleans seemed like a good idea at the time.
She met Alex while working at a hotel near the French Quarter. When an uninvited guest by the name of Katrina headed their way, they evacuated east on I-10 to Pensacola. Their small apartment in Chalmette was gone after the waters receded. A call to their landlord left Nevvie in tears that she hadn’t taken things like treasured books and photos, but Alex had to have room in the tiny Escort for his TV and Xbox.
Nothing to return to, they drove to Tampa and crashed with one of Nevvie’s cousins for a couple of weeks until they ended up in the Bellaire Arms Apartments in Suitcase City, minutes from the University of South Florida. Not as nice as the Chalmette apartment, and that had been no swanky pad.
Alex worked when he felt like it. She should leave him, but it wasn’t worth the aggravation of starting over—again. Not when she wanted no contact with most of the people in her family.
At least she had Thursdays.
* * * *
Tyler swooped when Nevvie walked through the front door. “There’s the birthday girl!”
He enveloped her in a hug and spun her around. He loved putting his arms around her any chance he got. Thomas was his soul mate, but just because he’d decided to settle with a guy didn’t mean he didn’t have a soft spot in his heart for women.
Hell, he had two ex-wives to prove it.
“Hi, Tyler.” She hugged him back.
He was hesitant to release her. While three inches shorter than his five-seven, Nevvie’s rounded curves and long legs inspired visions of her in tall heels and a short, tight skirt that would hug her thighs, her hips swaying back and forth…
And there was his woody.
He took her hand. “Close those beautiful green eyes, love. We’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Oh, Tyler, you shouldn’t—”
“We should, and we did.”
Her full lips curled in a hesitant twist that melted his heart every time. Nevvie obediently closed her eyes while he led her into the kitchen where Thomas waited, and sat her in one of the chairs.
When they were ready, Tyler said, “All right, sweetheart, open them.”
They’d fixed breakfast. Usually they made sure she had a muffin or bagel or something to nosh on, but Tyler had prepared a huge meal. A small, brightly wrapped box waited by her plate.
Tears clouded her eyes. Alex hadn’t even wished her a happy birthday. She suspected he’d either forgotten or didn’t care. Yet these two guys, clients—okay, hell, she could call them friends—had made a big deal over her.
Nevvie choked back a sob.
Thomas was closer and put his arms around her. “Happy birthday, sugar.”
She nodded, hugged him tightly, then reached for Tyler. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”
Tyler left his hand on her shoulder. “Nothing’s too good for our girl. You don’t turn twenty-six every year.”
A warm thrill ran through her at his words. Our girl.
She knew better than to read anything into it, but it still made her feel good.
The men sat on either side and watched while she opened her present. Inside lay a beautiful turquoise pendant on a sterling silver chain. They’d remembered. Turquoise was her favorite, even though ruby was her birthstone. She’d seen something similar to this on a magazine cover months earlier and had mentioned it in passing.
Tears finally won. Both men leaned in, concerned. She kissed Tyler, then Thomas. “Thanks, guys. This is beautiful. Thank you so much.”
Tyler took the necklace and carefully draped it around her neck while Thomas gently held her auburn ponytail out of the way. “See, Thomas? I told you it was the perfect length,” Tyler said.
Thomas smiled. “All right. One of these days I’ll quit questioning you.” He looked at Nevvie. “I told him I thought it was too long.”
She touched it. “It’s perfect, thank you both.”
They kissed her cheeks and sat down. “Let’s eat,” Tyler said. “This is your birthday breakfast.”
* * * *
When she tried to do the dishes the boys shooed her out of the kitchen.
Thomas shook his head. “Even I’m not stupid enough to make a girl wash her own birthday dishes, sweetie. Don’t wear yourself out because we’ve got a little something for you later.”
A thrill of anticipation ran through her stomach and settled between her legs.
Idiot. They don’t mean anything by that.
Boy, she wished they did.
She started on the living room, which only needed dusting and tidying. She always saved the floors for last, doing all the tile at once. Only the bedrooms were carpeted. Her boys weren’t messy, and more than once she wondered why they even bothered paying her. Not that she’d complain. Hell, she’d clean their house for free just to spend time with them.
She went to the backyard before it got too hot. Somehow, little bits of paper always managed to blow into the fenced yard. Even though it wasn’t part of what they paid her to do she policed the area when she swept the lanai and patio because the scraps of paper bugged her.
Of course—little bits scattered through the back flowerbed. She sighed and grabbed a bucket from the gardening shed and bent over to pick up the first piece.
* * * *
“Oh, Jesus!” Thomas jammed his knuckle in his mouth and grabbed Tyler’s shoulder. “Did I ever tell you you’re a goddamned evil genius?” The front of his shorts were once again tented at the sight of Nevvie’s backside facing them. Bent over in the garden with her back to them, picking up the little bits of paper Tyler salted out there the evening before.
Tyler leaned against the cook top island and smiled, crossed his arms, watching her. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” He held up his hands and traced the contours of her hips and thighs in the air. “Perfection, my dear Thomas. Absolute perfection. Rubenesque in the best possible sense of the term.”
“I’d love to put my hands on that sweet ass and fuck her till she screams my name.”
Tyler raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong with my arse?”
“Nothing. Your ass is fine. But it’s not…” Thomas turned back to the window. “You’re lucky I met you before I met her.”
“That makes two of us.” He stared as Nevvie picked up another piece of paper. “What did I ever see in One and Two?” Those were the nicest post-divorce pet names he had for his ex-wives. “Skinny little toothpicks with nothing to them, including their personalities. Her boyfriend’s an unholy arse, doesn’t know how blessed he is.”
“She’s not happy with him, is she?”
Tyler shook his head. “Watch. Around three o’clock she’ll start on a project that will undoubtedly make her late. Or, barring that, right before she’s supposed to leave, she’ll remember some trifle she ‘forgot’ that will make her at least thirty minutes late.”
Thomas stared at him, his jaw agape. “Shoot! You’re right. Every time. I teased her about it a few weeks ago.”
Tyler nodded and turned back to the window. “She doesn’t want to leave.”
“Hell, I don’t want her to leave.” He put his arm around Tyler’s shoulders as they watched her. She was almost halfway through the flowerbed. Thomas sensed the wheels turning in Tyler’s head and left the silence unbroken until his lover spoke five minutes later.
“Maybe she doesn’t have to leave,” Tyler said.
“What,” he snorted, “hold her hostage?”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “No, dumb fuck, of course not. We seduce her into wanting to stay.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing the past six months?”
“Not with purpose. Just in fun and wishful thinking.”
They loved women, but they loved each other more. Without trying, this woman had worked her way into their hearts. It delighted them to see her take such obvious pleasure in their small acts of kindness. They wanted to make her happy like that all the time and imagined her life outside of Thursdays must be fairly bleak if they were the highlight of her week. Tyler leaned forward and watched her, his arms on the counter. He smiled as Thomas moved behind him, grinding his hips and rock hard bulge against his backside.
“You’ve given me an idea, Thomas.”