Authors: Brittanee Farrow
ROMANCE: Party of Three: A Lustful Collection of Menage Romance (Menage Romance, Bisexual Romance, Stepbrother Romance) (12 page)
A very large part of me just wants to do this until my heart gives out, but the softening sky lets me know I’ve already stayed too long. We do our best to clean ourselves, and then hurry to our homes. All I can think about is when we’ll do this again, but when I sneak into the house, Rashi is waiting.
“Are you enjoyin’ yourself, Eden?” she asks.
“Yes, thank you.” I try to be polite, wondering why she seems so angry.
“Well, you need to be thinkin’ about what will happen if either of those men gives you a baby,” she whispers. “How will you explain being pregnant without a husband?”
“Isn’t there a way to—”
“Don’t even ask me,” her eyes blaze. “You can have your choice of men. I thought you just wanted to settle down and didn’t think you could with your past. But this will ruin you.”
“You’re right.” I bow my head. “I’ll choose a husband.”
She nods and I try to look contrite. We both return to our beds, but my mind begins to race, formulating a plan. This power, despite any danger it may bring, has made my life more vivid and enjoyable in a few days than the rest of my entire life. I won’t give that up. But things need to happen to protect this secret.
I roll back the rug and lift the loose floor board to retrieve both dolls. It’s an easy decision, in the end. Aaron is a witch hunter, and I cannot be married to a witch hunter. Then again, with the dolls either one will be in my control, so maybe it doesn’t matter. My perfect logic is unraveling, and the prospect of choosing one seems impossible.
Finally, in a moment of frustration, I close my eyes and toss the dolls around, mixing them until I don’t know which is which. I grab one, without looking, and run downstairs, then toss it into the fire. Quickly, I scramble back upstairs to see which doll is left.
Zachary.
It’s what I wanted when I first asked for this power, so it seems fitting. Rashi shows me how to compel him to marriage, and within a few hours, we are engaged. My mother is happy, albeit confused, about the whole arrangement, but we are disrupted by screams outside.
Mrs. Rowe runs over, breathless, but ready to spread the news, as always. “Aaron Pryor is dead. He somehow caught fire while he slept, and they didn’t discover it until his whole room was up in flames. The boarding house is half destroyed and Reverend Parris says we are all to meet at the church.”
I take Zachary’s arm and we walk over together, and voices everywhere are muttering about the fire.
“It had to be witches.”
“They knew he’d find them out.”
“Maybe it was an accident.”
“Fire is the devil’s sign, like that fire in the forest.”
As the church doors close behind the last few stragglers, Reverend Parris begins.
“Aaron Pryor is dead,” he announces, in case Mrs. Rowe missed telling anyone. “It is a tragedy and happens to coincide with another episode. My daughter, niece, and wife are now afflicted. Whoever is working their magic on them feared Aaron, and eliminated that threat.”
“What do we do?” voices whisper, as panic begins to spread amongst the congregation.
“Before he died, Aaron explained a better way to find who the witch is. We will pursue that test once we have a suspect. Does anyone have such a person?”
The room is dead quiet for the first time that day. No one is sure and it is not a charge easily refuted. In the midst of the silence, the wood creaks as my mother stands.
“I believe Eden may know something.” Her voice is strong and clear. I am stunned. “Back when my husband and I were married, Rashi would make healing powders. She said they were natural remedies. But then my husband strayed. I was called the adulteress, but it was he who could not control his…appetite. One night, I even saw him fornicating with Rashi.”
“Why are you just now explaining this?”
“I feared for my life, and Eden’s. But things have become stranger. I saw Eden throw a doll into the fire today. Then Rashi ran to remove it from the fire. I think she has Eden under her control with some voodoo doll, and when Eden tried to free herself Rashi stopped it.”
Everyone in the church stares at Rashi and I. The blood rushes from my face, and I feel lightheaded. All I remember from that point on is falling, and Zachary catching me.
When I wake up, I’m in my own bed. I startle, remembering the last events up until I blacked out. No one is in my room, so I roll back the rug and check under the floor—the Zachary doll is gone. In its place is a doll that has been partially burnt.
Once I replace everything, I have to lie back down. I’m dizzy, and can’t keep my eyes open. The world fades to black again.
I wake up to a group of people this time, my mother being the closest. Reverend Parris is there, and Zachary.
“You’ve been asleep for days,” my mother whispers gently. “A lot has happened.”
“After Rashi was accused and you blacked out, we held her on suspicion of being a witch,” the Reverend explains. “She claimed that you were the one who was practicing magic. She said that when you threw the doll into the fire you killed Aaron, and she tried to save him by pulling the doll out. Even more interesting, she explained that you had power to entrance men for your desires, and that is why Zachary asked you to marry him.”
My eyes search Zachary’s as this last piece is revealed, but his expression is even—I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“I explained the truth,” mother says. “Rashi worked for us back when your father still lived here. We were happy, for a time. Then she worked a spell on him that gave her control. We all know what happened there. But when you were grown, the same thing happened. She used a doll and took control of you. By controlling you, she wanted to carry out her plans but have you take the blame, and I can’t let that happen. If her story is true, there would be a doll under your bed with some blonde hair in it,” mother concludes. “That is how you supposedly control Zachary.”
“Please go ahead and search,” I answer tiredly. “I have nothing to hide.”
They move the rug and test the floorboards, finding the right one, and pry it back to reveal the burnt doll.
“This settles it,” the Reverend says. “If she were trying to protect this doll, Rashi would not have hid it back under your bed. Even more importantly, if she were not a witch, she would not think burning a doll could kill a man. Clearly this has been used to control Eden.”
My mother begins to cry, and the men apologize for the distress we’ve suffered. They leave to sentence Rashi, and my mother begins to laugh.
“Oh, finally. I thought they’d never leave.”
She sees my shock and asks if I want to know the real story. I nod, and she begins.
“The women in our family have always had gifts. Healing, seeing the future, captivating men, speaking to animals, and so on. I was no different. When your father and I were married he did not know about my gifts, but the new maid we hired figured it out. She promised she could make me stronger, and worked magic on me. But she had lied. Rashi wanted my power and she took it. We became her pawns, but when our love began to overcome the spell, she enchanted him to fall in love with someone else, and we were split apart. Broken-hearted, I could not resist and have been under her control. When you found your power and chose Zachary, she would have switched places with you. Every bit of strength I had left was to name her a witch.”
“You hid the Zachary doll,” I guess, and she nods.
“If they burn her, I am freed, your father is freed. And you can have the life you never dared to want.”
Almost as if on cue, there was a rough knock on the door. We both went downstairs, partly afraid it would be Rashi, but found my father.
“Can you forgive a stupid man?” he asks my mother.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she smiles.
An Interracial Romance
By Brittanee Farrow
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Maria found herself alone, again. Waiting in a five-star restaurant for some guy she'd been hooked up with to show up. They were never on time. Not a single one had ever been on time. Why would this one be any different? She didn't even know why she'd agreed to do this. Carol had hounded her and all but backed her into a corner until she'd said yes to the blind date. Carol had always taken it upon herself to find Maria a date.
She sighed and stared at her glass of half empty wine, trying to decide if she should ask for it to be topped off this early in the evening. She was soon broken from her thoughts by a smooth masculine voice that nearly rattled her from her trance.
“Maria?”
Her eyes shifted upwards, landing on the man's face. He was...perfect. Wow, he was perfect! His face was nearly smooth, though it had just the right amount of stubble to make him ruggedly attractive. His jaw was strong and his lips full with a perfectly dipping cupid's bow. His skin was pale but still had a pink warmth to it that made him seem inviting and gentle.
Her deep, amber eyes were so focused on his face and his sea-green eyes that she hardly heard him when he spoke. “I'm so sorry, Maria. I got stuck in rush hour traffic.” He said softly, those perfect lips curling into a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“Oh! Yeah. Rush hour traffic is a bitch.” She said, offering her hand over the table, gold bracelets clinking together and sliding down her toned arm. She grinned brightly at him, a little put off at just how excited she was. She really hadn't expected someone this...beautiful.
He quirked his lips into another smile and took her offered hand “A strong lady. Something I always appreciate.” He almost purred, returning her firm handshake before sitting in the seat across from her.
She laughed and moved to brush a hand through her thick, tightly curled hair. She'd always avoided relaxers and tried to keep her hair natural and as kinky as possible. She'd been told it made her look like a 'wild' woman but she didn't really care. If you couldn't handle her kinky hair then you certainly couldn't handle her.
She leaned forward on her elbows, taking him in like a tall glass of water and he was clearly returning the gesture. Just as she'd never seen someone as beautiful as him, he'd never seen someone quite like her. Her rich, mocha colored skin was smooth and well cared for, though various scars along her arms and finger's told stories of a girl who'd played outside much of her childhood. You could tell so much about a person based on their skin, and their lipstick. And hers was the deepest shade of burgundy, applied with an unbelievable amount of care.
Maria was just the type of woman he'd been searching for.
They both seemed to look up at the same time and Maria was shocked at how in-sync they appeared to be. Was it bad that she was hoping this date ended in a very intimate way? She smiled and took a sip of the wine that matched her lips and spoke “So, you know my name. What's yours?”
He laughed and placed a hand at the base of his neck, finger's scratching into his thick, black hair “Right, right. I suppose that you deserve that much information. My name is Dorian.”
She grinned at that “It's such a classical name. I love it!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together once to make sure he was aware of her excitement.
He couldn't help the small laugh that slipped passed his lips and drifted off into the air. Even his voice and laugh were musical. Seriously, what was the catch? No one this perfect existed without a catch. “I suppose it is a little dated.”
She snorted, clearly displeased with his commentary “Not dated. Strong. Classical.” She said firmly, pointing her fork at him and leaning forward.
He sipped his wine, his smile hidden behind the glass “Well, I certainly won't argue. I don't think I would win.”
She set her fork down “You're damn right you wouldn't. I like you. You pick up on things fast.” Her toothy grin was a clear sign that she was joking.
“Well. That makes two of us then.” He said, holding up his wine glass to signify a toast. “To strong, loud women who wear their lipstick like they own the world.”
She was thankful for her dark skin in that moment, as it hid the blush the unexpected compliment brought “Well...When you got it; Flaunt it, right?”
He smirked and leaned back in his chair “That is what they say, isn't it?” He mused for a moment, glancing as the waiter came over. Dorian ordered his food and watched Maria closely as she ordered bouncily, her sing-song voice wafting into his ears as she handed over her menu with both hands. She was so damn happy and bright. She radiated warmth and love for everyone. It was a stark contrast to his own reserved demeanor.
There conversation flowed more fluidly than one would expect on a blind date. He discovered her favorite music was up-beat pop (surprise!) and that she loved reading feminist theory books as well as whimsical stories about far-away lands. She was the perfect balance of Rosie the Riveter and some sort of Disney princess. She was loud and colorful, gesturing wildly to make her points. He found out that she was a social worker and loved children but had no desire to have her own. She wanted to change the world and grow gardens full of exotic flowers. She wanted the world, as it existed, but she also wanted to create her own.
She was perfect and he knew, without a doubt, that he would have her at any cost.
Dinner ended far too soon and Dorian found himself wanting more from this enchantress. As the bill was paid he caught her eyes before speaking “Would you like to take a brisk walk through the park just outside?”
She beamed and nodded quickly “Yes! They just replanted a lot of the flowers and they added new lighting. I've been wanting to see it.”
He stood slowly from his seat to go to her side and offer his arm to her. She blushed once more but took his strong, well-suited arm and stood from her seat, throwing her pink ombre scarf around her shoulders. “This is new. I don't think I've ever been walked out of a restaurant on someone's arm.” She said, trying to keep herself from sounding flustered by the action.
“I don't think you've been hanging around gentlemen. It seems all of your previous suitors have been mere boys.” He pointed out, glancing at her.
She laughed and waved her free hand in the air “I couldn't have said it better myself, Mr. Dorian!” She said with a firm nod “I guess I just never set my standards high enough.” She said with a little sigh.
“Any particular reason?”
She shrugged again “It's too much to get into on a first date.” She said with a grin that hid insecurity. “I have to maintain some sort of mystery, right?” She asked.
He smiled gently “I suppose that would be the smart thing. Keep me hooked line and sinker, eh?” He asked, tugging her a little closer as the wind picked up a little.
Her soft skin was starting to come alive with goose bumps. The low cut, halter dress she wore did wonders for the soft curves of her slim, athletic body but it didn't provide her much cover from the chilly wind. When she was pulled closer her heart almost stuttered. Why was he affecting her like this? No one had ever gotten to her like this, this quickly. She felt her own body heat spike and she was certain he felt it too. To distract from the sudden change in her body chemistry she spoke up “So why is a handsome marketing executive like you single?” She was more straightforward than she meant to be, but it would be distracting at least.
He answered her question flawlessly and without hesitation “I was married briefly but it didn't work out. When I was too young I was too absorbed with work. I learned to prioritize things in my life the hard way.” He said softly.
She suddenly felt just a little guilty for asking the question “Oh...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stir up bad memories. Or bad conversation.” She said, rubbing the back of her neck.
He shrugged simply and glanced at her. “The past is the past. I don't linger on it.” He said with a smile.
She returned the gesture and squeezed his arm a little. “Well, she's missing out on a great thing!” She said happily, trying to repair her faux pas.
He shook his head, smiling. “She was right to leave. I was far too consumed with work. She deserved more than I was able to give her and I hope she found it.”
Wow. A guy who didn't want to trash his ex-wife? Who was this guy and what planet was he from? She smiled and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, looking around at the lights that had been tangled in the park trees for romantic ambiance. 'It's working.' She thought to herself, glancing at the lights. They were certainly adding
something
to the moment. “That's very noble of you,” she said, chewing her plump bottom lip.
Her almost suggestive gesture caught his eye. “They say everything happens for a reason. I like that saying, so I try to ascribe to it.” He said simply.
They came back around to the front of the park where they'd left their cars. Maria found herself a little disappointed as her little blue car came into view. It was a sign that their time together was coming to an end. She felt like this date had gone well and she wanted to see him again almost desperately. She was chewing on her lip and twisting her scarf in her long fingers. She was trying to figure out a way to ask him for a second date without sounding depressingly desperate.
Before she could embarrass herself he reached out and touched her slightly pinked cheek, enjoying the warmth of her skin. “It's still very early. Are you really ready to say goodbye?” He whispered softly, his eyes catching hers for a moment.
She felt her breath catch in her throat and her mind raced circles as she stared at him. She was trying to justify going with him and not at the same time. Her mouth was dry and she could here the faint hum of the traffic in the background. He was perfect. He was beautiful and funny appreciated her strength. He wasn't scared of her or her kinky hair. She felt like saying no would be passing up the chance of a lifetime. Finally she looked up at him and the word slipped from her lips almost lazily, unsure and scared but eager at the same time.
“No. I’m not ready to say goodbye, Dorian.”
