Their Soul Mate [The Hot Millionaires #5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (16 page)

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Yeah, I know, but the thing is, in spite of being mad at you—at us both—Justine was still worried about you.”

“So you got her to play under false pretences.”

“No.” Cody’s expression hardened. “You know better than that.”

“Sorry, buddy. I know you don’t need to trick women into bed.”

“What I did was give her an excuse to do what we both know she wanted to do.”

“And boy, did she.” Zac threw his head back and closed his eyes, hardening again as he relived the experience. “She was something else.”

“She sure was. A natural sub if ever I knew one.”

“She’s more than that. I just don’t understand how she could switch off so easily.”

“Me neither. Perhaps I shouldn’t have suggested it. She isn’t over the jerk, and we’ve just complicated things for her.”

“What we need,” Zac said, standing up and pacing his study, “is a plan to keep her here. I don’t know about you, but as far as I’m concerned, her leaving isn’t an option. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve got ourselves a soul mate.”

“Absolutely. All we have to do is convince her of that.”

“Okay, any ideas?”

“Yep, we need to get her over her hang-ups. The jerk has destroyed her self-confidence.”

“Well,” Zac said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. “I think I know how we can redress the balance.”

* * * *

Justine stood under the shower for a long time, unable to believe she’d flounced out on the guys like an immature schoolgirl. What they had done to her—she still couldn’t get her head round it. It was the most sensual experience of her entire life. To have two such alpha males fucking her senseless was beyond her wildest dreams. They seemed as surprised as she was by the intensity of sensation, which surprised her. She figured they had women on tap 24/7, and there was definitely nothing out of the ordinary about her. They pretended that there was, but they were just being kind.

It had been fine when she first came here and fell into bed—first with Zac and then Cody. Her feelings weren’t engaged, and it was a good way to put Jason and his antics out of her head. Now things were very different. Incredible as it seemed, Justine had to accept that she loved them both. Actually loved them. She gently soaped her sore nipples, deep in thought and, unbelievably, horny again. Was it possible to love two men equally? Apparently it was because she knew without question that she loved Zac and Cody. She laughed aloud. How ridiculous was that?

She thought she’d loved Jason, but she realized now that what she felt for him was gratitude. He’d plucked her from obscurity and given her the status of being his girlfriend, but on his terms. He controlled and bullied her, and she’d allowed it. Justine straightened her spine. Not anymore.

Her soapy sponge was now between her legs. She spread them wider and introduced her other hand, gently agitating her clit whilst the sponge finished up inside her. She pretended it was Zac’s cock and bucked against it, pinching her sore nipples with one hand and enjoying the pain. She’d blown the chance of a casual fling with the guys by behaving so immaturely, but no one could take her memories away. She rubbed harder at her clit and cried aloud as she climaxed.

How would she cope, seeing them every day until she left without being able to fuck them again? Ignorance had been bliss, she decided. She’d never had two men at the same time before, and what you’ve never had you never miss. Unfortunately, Justine was now hungry for more.

As it transpired, the problem didn’t arise. She immersed herself in her work, half hoping that one or both of the guys would try to persuade her not to leave. Zac had mentioned something about it before their ménage,
but no repeat requests had been forthcoming. She accepted that he still needed time to get over the shock of meeting his mother, but Cody had a tongue in his head, didn’t he?

When he didn’t say anything either, it became obvious that any lingering hopes she’d harboured about being more to them than just a quick fuck were totally unrealistic. Okay, she’d gotten the message loud and clear and knew she couldn’t stay here any longer. She’d get through the Mansell thing on Friday night and have a quick word with Sasha at the same time. She’d beg the use of her spare room and start job hunting first thing Monday.

Even though her plans were finalised, Justine still dared to hope that they’d do something—anything—to change her mind. In reality, she barely saw either of them during the next two days. It was as though they were deliberately avoiding her. Infuriated that she cared, Justine tried to dismiss them from her mind as she got ready for the reception. Jason would be out for revenge, so she needed to be at her sharpest and looking her best. He’d been calling her nonstop since his surprise visit the other day, but she hadn’t taken any of his calls, letting the machine pick them up.

His revenge for being ignored would be public, and she suspected that poor Mansell would be the whipping boy. Justine had made the mistake of letting Jason know she cared about the artist. If the showing was a success, Jason would make sure that he got all the credit for it. If it failed, he’d let everyone know it was her fault and belittle her every which way he could. Why hadn’t she realized before now just how shallow and self-centred his existence was? Perhaps because she’d been too grateful for his attention to care how he treated her. Whatever, she was determined to get through the evening with her dignity intact. He couldn’t hurt her with his petty games because she no longer gave a shit.

Justine pulled herself into the red sheath dress she’d bought for the occasion just before leaving London. She had four-inch silver strappy sandals to go with it, but her funds had run out by then so she bought cheap imitations of a trendy brand from a discount outlet. Hopefully no one would notice. She brushed her hair and left it to hang loose and applied minimal makeup.

Ready for the fray, she examined herself sideways in the mirror and decided she didn’t look too bad. The dress clung to her curves, sculpting her breasts and outlining her thighs. She was proud of them because they were actually naturally slender. Her ass looked a bit round, but the tight red basque with cups that
did
fit her, which she’d laced herself into, at least kept the tummy in check. If Zac and Cody could have seen her in that basque and her high heels…

Damn it, stop thinking about them!

It was time to go. Justine closed her door softly behind her and walked carefully down the stairs in her death-trap shoes. She half hoped to see the guys, just so she could ignore them, but they were nowhere in sight. Her cab arrived right on time and deposited her at the local station for the short train ride into town.

She arrived at the gallery to find Mansell already there, not looking happy.

“Hi.” He kissed her cheek and offered her a strained smile. “Glad you’re early because we have problems.”

“What sort of problems?” she asked, waving to Sasha, who was busy with last-minute stuff on the opposite side of the gallery. “It looks great,” she said, glancing round at the paintings already displayed. She loved his work and had told him so many times before. In this setting, with exactly the right lighting, they looked exceptional. “I reckon people will be reaching for the cheque books as soon as they see the paintings.”

“I doubt it because lots of people have cancelled.”

Justine frowned. “Oh, I didn’t know. When?”

“Just this morning.”

Justine ground her teeth. Jason, it just had to be. How petty could one man get? He’d risk his reputation and, worse, see Mansell’s career go down the toilet just to get even with her. It didn’t seem credible. If she wasn’t so damned angry, she might even be flattered.

Justine grabbed her list of attendees from Sasha and her heart sank when she saw just how many actually had called off. This would be a disaster because Jason had left it so late to act that there was no time for her to drum up alternative would-be sponsors.

“It will be all right,” she said, wondering how it could be as she touched Mansell’s arm. “You’ll see.”

“Perhaps, but only because…”

The artist broke off and morosely went off to greet the first arrivals as they trickled through the door. They looked uncomfortable to see the gallery so empty. Jason and his entourage turned up just after that, looking and sounding suitably dismayed at the sparse attendance. He stuck close to Justine, alternately complimenting her on her appearance and lamenting the disaster unfolding before them. She wanted to tell him she knew it was all his work but refused to give him the satisfaction. She glanced at the small gaggle of invited journalists scoffing the free champagne, not appearing to take any interest in the paintings. She ought to go over, chat them up and try to drum up their enthusiasm.

“You see, babe,” he said glibly. “You need to stay close to base with things like this. That way you can react to last-minute hitches.”

Somehow Justine resisted the urge to grind her four-inch heel into his foot. Instead, she grabbed a second glass of fizz and tried to shake Jason off by moving round the gallery. But wherever she went, so too did he, obviously enjoying his moment of triumph.

“Go and admire the paintings,” she hissed at him.

“There’s only one thing I want to admire in this dump, and I’m standing right next to it.”

“You can’t—”

Suddenly there was a commotion, a loud eruption of noise as Sasha ran from picture to picture, gleefully sticking red sale dots on them.

“What the hell?” Jason scratched his head. “What’s going on? No one here can afford to buy that lot.”

“Wrong.”

Jason turned to see who’d spoken, his avaricious expression giving way to one of anger when he saw Zac and Cody at her shoulder, both looking devastating in tuxedos. Justine’s surprise, and pleasure, at their appearance affected her profoundly. They were here for her, and she couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot. She’d barely seen either of them since her romp with them in Cody’s bed. They’d been out more than they’d been at home, but she’d had no idea what they’d been up to, nor had she cared.

Like hell I didn’t!

Damn it, why did Zac have to wear a white tux, and why did he have to look so incredibly sexy in it? It was difficult maintaining a position on the moral high ground with a leaking pussy and taut nipples, fighting down a self-induced public climax. Judging by the way Zac glanced at her with wry amusement in his expression, he knew precisely what he’d done to her.

“What are you doing here?” Jason looked at them both with incomprehension. “I don’t understand.”

“I think I’m starting to,” Justine said softly.

A warm feeling spread from her gut to the outermost reaches of her body when Zac’s scorching gaze settled on her features and didn’t budge.

“This is invitation only,” Jason said, scowling at them when they continued to ignore him.

“We are invited,” Cody said easily. “Ask Mansell if you don’t believe us.”

“You bought all these paintings?” He looked Zac scathingly up and down. “You? Well, they say there’s one born every minute.”

Justine could see that Jason now realized how badly he’d miscalculated. She forgave him for being slow because she was only just catching on herself.

“I have a house to furnish,” Zac said, still looking at Justine rather than Jason as he spoke.

Jason glowered at Zac, pure vitriol underlying the gesture. Zac was still looking directly at her, so the effort went unappreciated by its intended recipient. “Shame to waste good stuff on such a dump,” Jason said. “Come on, Justine, we need to circulate.”

Justine shook off his hand, maintaining eye contact with Zac as she did so. “I don’t think so.”

“You still work for me. At least until this fiasco is over.”

“It’s over,” Zac said. He nodded toward the journalists who were flocking round Cody, trying to find out who’d shown so much faith in Mansell.

“Do you really think you can save a mediocre artist just by forking out a few bob for his pathetic pictures?” Jason asked savagely, his upper lip curling with disdain. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“You have no idea who I am or what I’m capable of,” Zac said with quiet mordancy. “Let’s hope for your sake that you never seriously cross me or you’ll get to find out.”

“You Yanks think you own the world. You come over here—”

“Quit while you’re behind,” Zac said. “You really don’t want to piss me off any more than you already have.”

“You think I give a shit—”

An attractive woman sashayed up to Jason, touched his arm and whispered something in his ear.

“Sure thing,” he said, turning a full-wattage smile on the woman and slipping an arm round her waist, shooting Justine a superior glance as he did so. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

“Come on then,” Justine said, trying not to laugh at Jason’s pathetic attempt to both save face and make her jealous. “It’s about time you told me what’s going on.”

“I appreciate she’s got you by the balls.” Jason’s loud voice caused all conversation in the gallery to stop. He dropped his arm from the woman’s waist and turned back to look at them, raking Justine’s body with his gaze. “She’s a great lay, I’ll give you that.”