Double Dealing: A Menage Romance (15 page)

S
tuttgart is a city of contradictions
. One of the oldest cities in southwestern Germany, most people associate it with the history of the automobile. After all, Karl Benz invented the car in Stuttgart, and even today Mercedes-Benz and Porsche are headquartered there. But at the same time, Stuttgart isn't overly industrial like some of the other manufacturing centers of Germany. There are large artistic centers, universities, and museums that made it a fine place for people who were looking for culture to visit as well. Of all the cities in Germany that I'd been to, it was one of my favorites and a routine stop on my travels around Europe.

One of the biggest reasons I went to Stuttgart was that it sports a large immigrant population, which is what we were looking for. Taking advantage of the high-tech culture of the Stuttgart area, we were looking for our contact in a scene that Jordan probably felt more at home in than any other we'd been in so far in Europe, a hard rock club.

The waves of immigration had blended with the German penchant for techno and hard rock throughout the nineties, giving rise to a plethora of niche clubs that catered to the different tastes around the city. We were in an American hard rock club, which had an eclectic mix of all the different local nationalities represented. On stage, what could only be described as a Pantera knock-off band wailed away.

"Their guitarist sucks," Francois yelled over the hypersonic music. "I could do a better fucking job!"

I had my doubts, but let Francois continue on. Jordan, to her credit, just sat back and enjoyed the music. I didn’t care for it, but that was due to the singer who felt the obsessive need to alternatively growl or scream his lyrics the entire time. I understand that heavy metal tends to get that way, but this guy was ridiculous. "You can definitely out-sing the man," I told Francois. "I think with a little bit of training, the three of us could replace the entire band, actually."

“They're better than some of the bands I played with," Jordan commented. “One thing is for sure, though, the beer is good. I've missed it myself."

I took a sip of my stein, which was a good proper German brew, and had to admit it was good. Vastly different from the wines of our home, it wasn’t a drink I partook in often but was willing to enjoy for this situation. Francois was keeping himself totally sober while Jordan was also taking in a single beer as well, sipping at her amber ale slowly.

I sat back with Jordan, who looked amazing in her leather pants and short-waisted jacket, purchased specifically for this trip to the club. Spending four hundred dollars for an outfit that she most likely would only wear once seemed foolish, but I enjoyed getting it for her. And the way she wore it, she oozed rock charisma. She'd turned heads from the moment we entered the club, which in a lot of ways was helpful. Anyone who remembered us would pay more attention to Jordan than to Francois and I. Deception is just as important as stealth when it comes to being a thief.

Our contact arrived about twenty minutes late, much like I'd expected despite my earlier griping. Looking totally out of place in a hard rock setting, his pink shirt and khakis made him look more like a tourist from Miami than a rock aficionado in a Stuttgart club, but we'd worked together before. "Hey, didn't think you'd be working again so quickly," the American said. He said his name was Alex, I didn't believe him, but his work was quality. "Interesting job, not too many buildings with the requirements you sent me."

"It's a good system for sure," I said. Alex was our computer cracker. He gave us software that allowed us to tunnel into a target's computer systems and reduce the effectiveness of those systems. It didn't eliminate all of the risks, but it at least took part of the equation out of the way. With the physical challenges of the Arab center, we needed even more, a total throttling of the computer-based systems that wouldn't look at all like a takeover. We needed to mask everything in the system and do it without the human guards noticing. "Within your capabilities, I’m sure?"

"Of course," he said, pulling a thumb drive out of his pants pocket and handing it over. "Just get within a hundred meters of the building, turn on your computer, and let this baby go to work. It should take about four to six hours before you're set."

"Thanks," I replied. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the cash we'd agreed upon. “You do good work."

"You pay good money," Alex countered as he felt the thickness of the envelope. We were passed the point of actually counting money for each transaction, as we both knew if we tried to screw over the other, not only would we be losing a profitable partnership, but that the other would engage in reparations. I shivered at the idea of a piece of cyber-dark matter like Alex turning his special blend of hell against us. "And it's a hell of a lot more interesting than my day job. Take care."

He disappeared into the crowd, and Jordan looked over. "That's it?"

"That's it," I said. I could tell she was disappointed, she'd expected something more out of the movies. "He's worked with us in the past." I took a drink of my beer and sat back, sighing happily. We'd trained so hard, we hadn't had a lot of time to just relax and enjoy each other's company in a casual setting. In fact, when I thought about it, it was the first 'date' that Jordan had been on since our first few days in Paris. "Now, sit back and enjoy the music. We can drive to Paris in the morning."

With business completed, Francois relaxed, getting into the spirit of the club. Unfortunately for us, that meant him quickly downing three beers. While that shouldn’t have been too big a problem, Francois forgot a few things. First, German beers are higher in alcohol content than American beer, which he was more used to drinking. Secondly, the glasses were not in British or American sizes, but in metric, so they were larger than what we were used to. Finally, Francois hadn't eaten much that day since breakfast, as nerves and the long drive left him with an empty stomach, and the hot club meant he was dehydrated.

All of that came together to basically make Francois tipsy. He wasn't drunk, I would have cut him off before that, but he certainly wasn't his normal self as the band finished up. "Hey, you guys fucking suck!" he hollered after the light applause died down, his accent stronger than normal under the influence of the alcohol. "My girlfriend can play better than you!"

Now, I'm sure most bands have been jeered before. I doubt you can make it to being a professional musician without someone heckling you at least once. But for some reason, the lead singer of the band took Francois's taunt personally. "Fuck you, Frenchie. You think your side piece can play, then why not put her ass up here?"

The entire club responded to the taunt, confident that Francois's boast would go unanswered. Instead, Francois looked over at Jordan. "Well?"

"I can think of something," Jordan said, giving me a grin. She was being given a chance to be in her element, and she loved it. Shrugging off her jacket, she took to the stage in her leather pants and a tight gray t-shirt. Holding her hands out, the guitarist, who seemed more amused by the whole thing than anything else, handed over his instrument.

"Just a moment guys," she said into the mike, strumming and make a few adjustments. "All right, here's a good classic."

I’d expected something different. In all of her playing for us on the acoustic guitar, she’d done softer things, maybe some lightened versions of hard rock, but nothing really heavy metal. Instead, with a twinkle in her eye and a cocky grin on her lips, she started to play. The first few notes were slow, building, but an appreciative round of applause from the crowd, which was listening with piqued interest, showed me at least they knew what she was playing.

Francois grunted and looked over at me. "Metallica's One."

Jordan never sang, but everyone was shocked when the band's drummer sat back down and started playing along, adding percussion to the song. When the song went from slow and lyrical to hard and metal, Jordan bore down, a feral smile on her beautiful features as she tore into the guitar.

In the weeks of training for the job, Jordan had worked hard with us, and while she'd of course never be a thief, she’d become fitter. Still, she always in my eyes was the soft, feminine, beautiful creature that I held at night on the evenings when she spent time with me instead of Francois. In almost every moment we were together, she was kind, with her mind engaged and a charm to each of her movements that had even Charani and Syeira approving of her. But there on stage she was the powerful one, the angel and warrior and devil all in one, crying out to the heavens with her guitar. The voice of power screamed from underneath her fingertips, and it moved everyone and everything that was within its grasp. It was incredible.

With a final crash of her notes, she stood on stage, sweat glistening on her brow as the hot lights warmed her skin, and I broke into applause along with everyone else in the club. The guitarist from the band, clearly upstaged, accepted his guitar back with humility, but the lead singer, whose big mouth had caused the whole situation, was not so gracious.

Pushing Jordan away from the stage, the singer tried to shove her totally to the sidelines, Jordan stumbling and falling to her butt as she got tangled in the amplifier cords. I was pushing toward the stage immediately as the crowd booed, but Francois beat me there, nailing the guy with a right cross that sent him tumbling to the stage. I was up next to Francois and Jordan immediately, pulling him away while Jordan got to her feet.

"Come on, we don't need a brawl," I said into his ear. Still, I had to nearly drag him away from the stage and out the door. Thankfully, the singer's bandmates didn't feel like pushing the issue, and the bouncers were more interested in us just getting out of the building.

"I know he deserved it, but we can't be doing that," I chastised Francois. He yanked his arms away from me and took a step back, his eyes blazing.

"He deserved worse!” he yelled at me and stormed off. I watched him go, then just shook my head in resignation that he was going to be upset with me.

I turned to Jordan, who watched Francois storm away in fury, then looked at me. "He'll be okay?"

"He's tipsy," I said, opening my arms to her. "He'll be fine, he just needs to cool off. How are you?"

“Just a bump on the butt," she said, coming into my hug. I held her for a moment, relishing the feeling of her in my arms. "Damn, I forgot my jacket inside."

"Forget the jacket, you can wear mine," I said. "You played wonderfully. Come, let's go chase down Francois before he gets too far away. I’m sure he could use a hug too right about now.”

T
he next morning
, as we drove from Stuttgart to Paris, Francois showed a talent that I hadn't heard before. Namely, snoring in loud, rumbling snatches as he slept off his evening's activities in the back seat of the Renault. At least in bed, he wasn't much of a snorer. Felix drove while I rode shotgun, watching the roads roll by. "Any reason you wanted to drive and not use the trains?" I asked. "I've never really ridden the trains before."

"You haven't? I keep forgetting sometimes — a lot of Americans haven't used the trains as much as I have," Felix remarked, surprised. “When we leave for Albania after this, we'll take the trains. We can put this car in storage, or just leave it at the farm house in Valence."

I nodded happily. "Thanks. It won't put you out?"

Felix shook his head. "Other than catching a cab ride from the train station to our house in Durres, not at all. The train would be more relaxing than driving anyway. So I guess you've never had sex on a train either?"

I chuckled and looked out of the corner of my eyes at Felix. "Why, Mr. Hardy, I do believe that’s a proposition."

"It is," he said with a grin, glancing over before returning his eyes to the road in front of us. "Do you think it might be accepted?"

"Like I could ever resist you," I said with a light laugh. A few more kilometers rolled by, and something came to mind. "Felix, do you mind if I ask about your Father and Syeira and Charani?"

"What would you like to know?"

"Charani told me that technically she and your Dad were never married. Your grandfather insisted that Syeira be the one to be legally married."

Felix sighed and nodded. "My grandfather was . . . he was a conservative old-fashioned codger most of his life," he finally said after thinking deeply. He was choosing his words carefully, I could tell. "He was riddled with the old superstitions, the old ways of thinking, all of it. He never did understand that there could be ways to set it up that it didn't matter what some church or city official said. Nope, he had his old style Romani honor, and that meant that his eldest had to be the married one. Regardless of if the difference was just thirty minutes, Syeira was the one who HAD to be married. It was strange growing up with him that way."

"Charani said you've done a lot to try and make things more equitable between you and Francois. Why?"

Felix shrugged. "Despite the differences between us, he's my brother. It's not his fault that he was born a few minutes after me, and he certainly didn't rate the dismissal that my grandfather gave him. He's just as capable as I am, and could have done my job just as well as I have. In some ways better, perhaps."

"How so?" I asked. "He didn't seem nearly as controlled as you last night, and I take it that self control is essential for your line of work."

"It is, but Francois's passion is also his strength. He wants to continue, to prove he’s the best. Me, I'm ready to move on from being a thief, to settle down and find a new chapter to my life."

"Such as?" I asked. Felix fixed me with a meaningful look until I blushed. "Really?"

Felix nodded. "Really. I know, it's only been a few months, but to me, you’re as vital to my life as the very air I breathe, and I could see myself spending the rest of my life with you.”

"Me too," I said without thinking, then stopped, startled. "Wait, did you just ask me to marry you?"

Felix shook his head. "Yes and no. After all, like my father and my mother and her sister, it can’t be done with all three of us. And I won’t do to Francois what was done to his mother. So I guess I have to ask, would you be willing to just live with us, even though we won’t be legally married?”

I didn't even have to think about it. I didn't need a ceremony with a white dress or somebody else to verify the relationship between the three of us. "Yes. Of course I will. But what will Francois think?"

Just then, a loud rumble of a snore, followed by two snorts and a blowing out of air gave us Francois's answer. "I think he likes the idea, but we should double check when he wakes up."

T
he bed
in the barge wasn't quite large enough, but I didn't care. I was lying under the covers, waiting for Francois and Felix to get cleaned up.

To keep myself warm, I was wearing a large, fluffy cotton bathrobe, wrapped up and my hair brushed out. I hadn't put on any makeup, but I wanted to look beautiful for my men.

My men
. I was still getting used to the sound of it, especially after the car conversation Felix and I, and later Francois, had. When he woke up, it took Francois a bit of time to get his head wrapped around the situation, but once he did, he was all for it. The first thing we'd done upon arriving in Paris was stop at a boutique, the boys buying me a bath set while they let me get them some soaps.

"You’ll have a ceremony if you want,” Francois promised me. "Not in a church, like you say, but among our people, among our family."

"All I want is the love of you both," I said, "now let me go freshen up."

After washing and getting ready, Felix and Francois had also gone to clean up, which was why I was lying in the bed waiting for them to come back wrapped in the robe. I heard movement in the other room, and Francois came in, naked as the day he was born, his feet beating a staccato on the floor. "Damn it's cold!"

"You're the one who insisted that wearing slippers would be unsexy," Felix countered behind him. He too was naked, but I had to smile at his practical streak as he was wearing thick slippers on his feet. It was a bit incongruous to see a sexy, muscular man with fuzzy black slippers on his feet wanting to give it to you like no other man could, but that was Felix. They were practical, and he wasn't the one hopping around looking like a wounded puppy. "Who looks unsexy now?"

"How about both of you get on this bed and we won't have to answer that question," I laughed, pulling the blankets on each side of me down to invite them in. "Come on, and if the blankets get kicked off, we can pull them up later. But Francois I swear if you touch me with the soles of your feet before they warm up again, you're not getting inside this bathrobe for a long damn time."

Francois immediately jumped on the bed, keeping his feet discreetly hanging off the edge of the bed and tucking them into the pocket left by the blankets at the foot of the bed. Felix, for his part, walked around to the other side and sat down smoothly, each muscle in his hips and back flexing as he bent over to remove his slippers before spinning and joining me on the other side of me. "Now this I can enjoy for the rest of my life," I said, feeling the warmth from their bodies on each side of me even through the terry cotton. "And I get to, don't I?"

"As long as you want, my love," Felix replied, turning to his side. He cradled his head in one hand while with his other he reached for one of the ties on my bathrobe.

Francois smiled and took the other free end, each of them pulling evenly until the bow pulled free. I'd tied the bow without needing another twist, and the belt came totally free, my robe only being held closed by gravity. "Nearly there," I whispered, taking their hands and placing them on the folds of the robe. "Then we can enjoy each other."

Felix's hands were better positioned to open the crossed over portion of my robe, and he lifted it slowly, teasing it to the side while his lips spread in a happy little smile. Revealing my left breast, he kissed me once before lowering his lips to my already stiff nipple, tracing his tongue around the edges. Francois, not to be outdone, pulled the other side free and kissed his way to my right breast, joining his brother and sending hot sparks through me. "Oh fuck . . .”

"Mmm-hmm," Felix mumbled around my nipple as he sucked on my skin. Breaking contact, he kissed up my neck to my mouth, his tongue tracing fire up my skin. “I’m sure we’ll be doing plenty of that too.”

Francois laughed at his brother's joke and kissed his way down my stomach. "Felix, if you can take care of things up there, I’ll take care of down here."

"Agreed, but I get my turn,” Felix replied before kissing me again. While his tongue traced my lips, our eyes joined with each other, the connection deep and pure. In Felix's eyes I saw my future, and I couldn’t have been happier.

The illusion was only temporarily broken when Francois's breath tickled over the soft skin between my thighs, parting my knees with its gentle promise of pleasure. I’d expected him to dive right in, so to speak, but instead he held back, teasing me with small little kisses and warm breaths all around my inner thighs until I was nearly groaning in anticipation. "You’re teasing,” I chided him, reaching down between my legs to run my fingers through his hair. “Please.”

“But you look so beautiful when I do it," Francois replied. His tongue stroked wide over my labia, driving the breath out of me it felt so good. Felix swallowed my moan and replied with his fingers, tweaking my left nipple and doubling the sensation. I wallowed in electric pleasure as my two men used their lips and hands to stroke my skin and taste my flesh. The tip of Francois's tongue found the hard nub of my clit and flickered over it, my hips driving up and into his waiting mouth. The feeling of his mouth pulling wetly on my lower folds drove me wild, and I coated his mouth in my juices. "Mmm, yes."

"Don't take it all from me," Felix joked, lifting his head from my breast.

"I actually had something in mind," I said, now that I could actually breathe and form words again.

The two exchanged looks, then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

I scooted back onto my elbows, pulling myself up enough to sit up. "Good, because this is going to be fun."

Francois 'won' the quick game of rock-paper-scissors the boys played after I explained my idea, and Felix moved off the bed, dashing out of the room to grab a chair from the other room to watch. "So we keep going until?"

"Until one of us comes, then we switch out," I teased. "Be glad I don't say who comes has to tag out, or else you two would end up on the bed by yourselves at some point."

"No chance in hell," Francois said.

I had to laugh, although if they weren’t half brothers the idea of those two getting it on did fill my body with a fresh wave of heat. Hey, what woman doesn't think about that every once in a while? “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding.”

Francois lay down on the mattress, his eyes fixed on me as I swung my leg over his head and lowered myself to his waiting mouth. The first touch of his tongue was amazing, and I had to resist the urge to just ride his mouth and tongue to a screaming orgasm.

Still, the cock that was rising in front of me was delicious looking, and I bent down, reaching out with my hand to stroke Francois's cock while licking the soft, velvety arrow-shaped tip. I was too short to take him as deep as needed to really bring him to an orgasm, but that was great for me. Stroking him while I licked, I was able to please him.

Licking in long, penetrating strokes that parted my lips, his slightly rough tongue found every nook and cranny, nerves I didn't know I even had sending pure pleasure signals to my brain. Sweat broke out on my back as Francois wrapped his strong hands around my ass and pulled me down on top of him, while at the same time stiffening his tongue and impaling me on it. Reaching deep inside me, he licked me until I was shivering, unable to do anything but stroke him haphazardly while my hips ground down on his face. Jabbing his tongue into me over and over, I was trembling on the edge of coming. "Francois . . .”

Withdrawing his tongue, he flicked it over my clit again, back and forth so quickly that I was pushed over the edge. Throwing my head back, I cried out softly as I came, grinding down on top of him. Shuddering, I stayed there while he let me recover before climbing off of his face. He was grinning like a fool, his face happy and shiny.

Felix came over and ran a hand down my spine and kissing the curve of my neck and I groaned as he slid behind me. Reaching around, he cupped my breasts and massaged them in his strong hands while his cock pressed into the cleft between my ass cheeks. "Love me, Felix."

Felix's hands stroked me from breast to stomach over and over, holding me securely. Nibbling on my earlobe, he brought his lips around to the side of my head opposite his brother and whispered in my ear.

He pulled me back onto his body, letting me lean into him, his chest pressed against my back. "I was so jealous of Francois as I sat over there. Part of me wants you all to myself, to be the only one who touches your body or has a place in your heart. Because you’re the only one who has mine."

Keeping up his soft mumblings of tenderness, he brought his right hand down down between my legs, rubbing in slow circles. After the orgasm Francois had given me, I’d expected to be sensitive, but Felix knew exactly how much or how little pressure my body needed, going slowly to let me recover.

I moaned, the last sound drawing out when his cock surged against my back. "Mmm, you want back there?"

"Yes," he whispered. His long middle finger parted my folds to penetrate me, sliding in and out around my clenching muscles. "But only if you want it."

"Later," I promised, "I promise you some time, you’ll have it, but not tonight.”

"I understand," he said softly, his voice happy with my promise. I knew that Felix would wait forever if needed for me to fulfill my promise, and be happy the whole time."

Felix added a second finger, curling them inside me until he found my spot. I squeaked as he began to rub, causing him to chuckle in my ear. His left hand found my breast again, teasing the nipple and massaging the soft weight while his fingers curled over and over, stroking time and time again. I'd had an orgasm like this once before, and it built differently. For long minutes I felt more intense pleasure in my breasts than down below, which felt increasingly like I needed to pee more than anything else. Then suddenly, the urge to pee was replaced with white hot pleasure, my body roaring toward another massive orgasm, my voice coming in incoherent growls and mewls as Felix drove me higher and higher.

“Let it go,” he whispered in my ear as he stroked his fingers one more time, my body exploding in another orgasm. I thrashed and tossed my head from side to side as I clenched around his fingers, his still hard cock pressed against my lower back. When it passed, I was wrung out, exhausted, but hungry for more.