Teacher's Pets [Unlikely Bedfellows 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (5 page)

“Fine,” he muttered. Would he ever get used to being vilified for doing nothing more than joining the service and doing his duty?

Was it his fault President Kennedy stuck his finger in the Southeast Asia pie? Or that President Johnson seemed alternately not to know if he wanted to keep the pie or forget about it? Was he to blame for President Nixon taking four years to claim we won the pie while at the same time handing it under the table to the Viet Cong? All Beau and Steve, and thousands of others, had done was what their country asked of them. And for that, they were the ones hated, while men who burned their draft cards or gave up their country and ran to Canada were made heroes. More than not getting used to it, Beau would never understand it.

Inside the coffee shop, he found a mix of kids studying or chatting over food and sodas. He and Steve had been in there a few times but preferred to do their studying at home. After years of “fine dining” in the Marine Corps mess halls or in the field, they preferred their own kitchen and dining room for meals, too. And their age differences—thirties compared to late teens—meant their interests and goals generally were out of alignment with the kids they attended classes with.

He stood just inside the door and searched the room for Leah. He found her sitting on the other side, against the wall. A man sat across the table, his back to Beau. Intensity marked her face and her hands moved furiously, as though she was trying to explain something. She looked up and saw him, but instead of the smile of welcome he’d expected to see, she frowned as she waved him over.

“Professor Morris,” he said in greeting before turning his attention to the man. He was younger than Beau with shaggy brown hair and a rough chin and jaw that couldn’t make up its mind if it was growing a beard or maintaining a five o’clock shadow. He was tall and slender and didn’t look like he could carry a buddy out of a field while under fire. Come to think of it, he didn’t look the type who
would
carry out a buddy rather than run to save his own ass.

“This is what you’re thinking about, Leah? This…this killer of children and raper of women?”

Before Beau could plant his fist squarely on the man’s nose, Leah said, “Give it a rest, Charles. Beau isn’t a child killer, he’s a former Marine, just like my Uncle Joshua is a policeman, not a pig. Beau, will you have a seat?”

He pulled out a chair and dropped into it, never taking his eyes off the man.

“This is Charles Little, a colleague in the sociology department. And soon, I hope, my lover.”

That sent Beau’s gaze flying to her.
What the fuck?
“Well, congratulations?”
Like hell.
“But I’m not sure why you’re telling me.”

“Because I’d like you to be my lover, too.”

Professor Little snorted. Beau couldn’t blame him.

“Come again?” His cock had started rising at her words, but he willed it down. Something strange was going on here, something beyond her actual words, but he couldn’t figure out what.

She sighed. “I’m single and in a town with hundreds of younger men.”

“I’m younger,” Little said smugly, and she shot him a sizzling look that didn’t gain its heat from desire.

“
Much
younger men,” she amended. “I have no interest in sleeping with children. Nor do I care to take a married man to bed. Which limits my choices. Understand?”

Beau shot a glance at Little, who lounged in his chair with an air of self-importance.
Smug asshole.
This is what a beautiful woman like Leah had to choose from for sexual partners? “I understand.”

“I also don’t want to become entangled in an emotional relationship. I enjoy my life and don’t wish to marry or even to have children. I only wish for a liaison. I don’t want to be a man’s mother or psychologist or housekeeper. For those reasons, I want someone who can separate sex from emotion.”

“That’s why you thought I would be good? Because I scored well on your tests while you were parading around half-dressed you think I’m unemotional.”

“Exactly.” Her eyes lit with appreciation.

Beau sat back in the chair. He’d wondered what she had up her sleeve. Still, he was attracted enough to her to have dressed with care for this meeting in spit-shined shoes, his nicest Hong Kong-fashioned sports coat, and a button-down shirt. In the course of ten minutes he’d been insulted three times, by the girls at the door, by the pompous worm sharing the table, and now by this woman for whom he’d felt instant attraction. “You think I don’t have feelings?”

Her lips formed an
O
and her eyes widened. “No! That’s not at all what I meant.”

What the hell did she mean, then?
He wrinkled his brow. “I’m not as smart as you think I am then. Explain it to me again.”

“I just meant—”

“That you can fuck her and not want to marry her. What is it about that you don’t understand?” Little asked. “Honestly, even
I
gave military men more credit. Don’t you all think with your dicks and live life using your fists and guns?”

Beau’s fists clenched in his lap. “One more word out of you, asshole, and you’ll find out how military men deal with life.”

“Now, now, Beau. Mustn’t let your animal instincts overrule your good sense.” Steve came out of nowhere. Beau took a deep breath and cast a glance at Leah from the corner of his eye. She looked at once furious, perplexed, and overwhelmed.

“I told you not to bring him,” she ground out.

“I didn’t.”

Steve held up his hand in surrender. “I didn’t even know Beau was meeting you here.” Holding out a chemistry textbook, he said, “I’m meeting someone here for a tutoring session. I just came over to say hello when I heard this man insult Beau.”

Yeah, right.
He’d kill Steve when they got home. After he thanked him for his timely arrival. Steve had just saved him from a fight.
Not that it would have been much of a fight.

“Leah, you know
two
of these Neanderthals?”

The man had some nerve. Beau had to give him that. “Steve Hardin,” Beau said, “this is Professor Little.”

“I can believe
that
,” Steve said. He held out his hand, but the professor studiously ignored it.

“This is none of your business,” Leah said to Steve. Fury rang all through the sentence.

“Leah, I don’t even know what business you’re here to talk about. I swear, I didn’t follow Beau. But since my student isn’t here yet, I will sit for a minute if you don’t mind.” He shot Beau a look that said
I’ve got your back if you need it.

Beau had to smile.
Women come and women go, but the Corps sticks together forever.

Damn men and their pride.
Leah looked at the three stubborn asses sitting at the table and wondered how such a simple plan had fallen apart so quickly.

“Leah,” Charles said, “would you like me to get rid of these two?”

“You can try,” Beau said.

“But I wouldn’t give you odds,” Steve added, like Tweedledum supporting Tweedledee.

“I could
have
you removed,” Charles said, sounding all prickly. And who could blame him with two men twice his size flanking him?

Steve and Beau smiled at each other across the table. “Oh,” Beau said to Steve. “He didn’t mean
he
would get rid of us.”

“No, he’d
have
us removed. That takes some of the onus off him, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely. I guess he realized that if
he
tried to remove us—”

“He’d end up
squashed
.”

“Like a
bug
.”

Charles’s eyes got big as sunflowers in the fields outside Minneapolis. She remembered them from when she was a child and she and her parents would drive up from Chicago to visit her Uncle Joshua and his wife and friend, a big man who owned a restaurant and cooked really well. How long ago that seemed.

“Stop it,” she said. “All of you.” And she directed a glare toward Charles before the idiot could say something else. For a man so intelligent, she’d never known anyone with less common sense.
So why are you thinking of using him as one of your lovers?

Because, once she’d decided on Beau Johnson—and no matter how many times she crossed off his name from her list, she kept coming back to him—she could hardly imagine anyone more opposite in personality, looks, or style than Charles Little. And because he had made it clear for years that he would welcome being in her bed, no matter what it took. He wouldn’t make waves over being one of two men.

“Well,” Charles said.

She rubbed her eyes. This was a bad idea, all of it. Except for sleeping with Beau. The regret twisting through her body told her just how much she had underestimated her growing desire for him. Yet that desire was a pale shadow of how much she wanted tenure. “Just shut up, Charles.”

Rubbing her forehead, she took stock of her situation. The cat was out of the bag now. Beau knew she had planned to take two lovers, though he didn’t know why. Charles knew that one of the men she’d chosen was the antithesis of all he believed and held dear, and since he was also a sociologist and understood the publish-or-perish tenet of professorship, he would quickly discern what she had planned. If she didn’t stake a claim, he could develop the idea himself and leave her with nothing. She was stuck going forward now or forgetting everything.

“I thought I’d already made myself clear. Beau, Charles, I want both of you to be my lovers. You”—she pointed a finger at Steve just as he opened his mouth to speak—”I want to hear nothing from. You are no part of this discussion. I wish you would go away and leave us alone.”

“I’m sorry my being here is upsetting you, but I have to admit, I’m stunned at what I just heard. I mean, I really
heard
that you’re negotiating taking on two lovers?” He looked to Beau who simply raised his brows in answer. Steve looked around the room. “I should grab a table and wait alone.”

“You know it all now,” Leah said irritably. “You might as well stay.”
Damn him!
Of all the people in the world to run into now, why did Steve Hardin have to show up? “But know well that I am not inviting your comment or opinion. I’m addressing only Charles and Beau.”

Steve held up his hand. “Hey. Beau’s a big boy. I’m just here as a friend. His and yours.”

“No friend of mine,” she said through gritted teeth. Pretending she didn’t hate him was proving harder than she’d expected.

“Let’s get back to the agreement,” Charles whined. She’d never liked that particular trait of his, but they were friends, and friends overlooked things like that.

“Yes, let’s.” She pulled three sheets of paper from her pocketbook and handed one to each of the two men while keeping a copy for herself. “As I’ve made clear, I’d like to be a sexual partner with both of you. The reasons aren’t any of your concern.”

“They are to me,” Steve interjected. “I mean, I can understand why you’d want Beau, but why this pipsqueak?” He pointed his thumb at Charles. Leah felt a headache coming on, and it had Steve Hardin’s name all over it.

“
I’m
her friend,” Charles insisted.

“I was her friend before you.” Steve stared into her eyes, and she felt that same pull she had back when she’d been young and stupid. “Why him and not me?” He asked softly, never dropping his gaze from her face.

“You might have been an acquaintance once, but that was long ago, long over with. And I would never,
ever
consider you a suitable sex partner.”

Charles laughed. “So much for past history.”

“Besides, I enjoy Charles’s company,” Leah said to the table in general. Why did she feel the need to explain? Her reasons weren’t Steve’s business. “We often attend theatre and college activities together. And he wants it.”

“You bet I do,” Charles muttered.

“Why me?” Beau asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Leah cast an appraising look over him, head to waist, where the table ended her perusal. He was adorable. His short hair still allowed a shock to fall over his forehead. His buttoned-collar shirt highlighted a thick, strong neck. Broad shoulders filled out a rust-and-charcoal weave sports coat that looked as though it was silk. And big hands rested on the table. She could easily feel them caressing her body and stroking her pussy. His gray eyes focused on her, and she melted inside.

“You’re physically very attractive. More than that, you’ve shown that you can concentrate and not allow yourself to be ruled by your penis. You’re older and more mature than most of the other people on campus. You’re single and a senior this year. When you graduate, you’ll be able to leave without either of us mourning inconvenient emotional ties.”

“What makes you think that?” Beau regarded her coolly.

“Because you’re sensible. With what I am about to propose, each of us will gain something we want. Charles wants me, and I enjoy having an escort. I crave a sexually fulfilling period of time, but nothing more. I assumed you would also enjoy that, and I believe I can satisfy you in that regard.”