3
Breaking the rules
All of the men seem pleased with the brews I selected. They make positive comments and pass their glasses around, each of them tasting all three.
I shamelessly watch them as they drink, the way their throats move, the way they capture the foam from their lips. Brendan curves his upper lip into his mouth, but Corbin uses his tongue to collect the frothy white stuff, and I can’t look away, even though I know I should.
I also take the opportunity to check for wedding rings, though I’m not sure why, since I don’t plan to get involved with them. No rings, no telltale tan lines.
“Delicious,” Jonathan says, wiping his lip with a finger and then briefly putting that finger in his mouth to remove the foam. His youthful appearance is the thing that finally brings me to my senses.
“Glad you like them,” I tell the men before I move away to help other customers. While I deliver refills and mix drinks for the servers, I feel the Hayes brothers’ eyes on me. When I glance in their direction, they’re watching me, their expressions speculative and admiring.
In my younger days, I might have blushed at all of the attention, but now I’m mostly just curious — about them as people, and about what quality it is of theirs that’s making my body respond so strongly.
When I get caught up with my duties, including organizing supplies that Valerie brings along with the bottle of Scotch I requested, I drift back over to the three men. Corbin and Brendan’s glasses are less than half full; Jonathan’s is nearly empty. “Refill?” I ask.
“Yes, please.”
I bring out a fresh glass as he drains the last of his.
“Are you always this busy?” Corbin asks as I pour the amber liquid.
“Depends on the season,” I say. “We’ll be busier in the summer. Tonight is more crowded than I’d expect for March, though.” Corbin nods, and I ask, “What brings you to Four Points?”
“A working vacation,” Brendan says.
“What type of work?”
“Adventure tours. We take people on custom tours, and we’re checking out the island as a potential destination.”
“Interesting.” This explains their golden complexions and outdoorsy clothing. “How long have you been tour guides?” I might ask anyone the question to be conversational, but I’m hoping their answer will give me a better idea of their ages.
“About five years,” Brendan says after taking a drink of his dark beer. “We were each in different lines of work, and after taking a vacation together, we decided to start our own venture.”
“Following your dreams. I love to hear that.” The customer on the stool next to Corbin gestures with his empty glass, and I pour a refill while I continue to talk to the brothers. “How’s it been, working together? I have a sister I love dearly, but I don’t think she and I could run a business together.”
“We work together very well,” Corbin says. “In fact, if you’d like to come to our place when you’re done here, we can show you how well.”
The proposition. I’d been anticipating it ever since Tom told me the men were asking for me, but I wasn’t expecting what they seem to be offering.
“Work together?” Their meaning is clear, but I want them to spell it out, even though it’s probably going to torture me to hear what they have in mind.
Corbin beckons me closer, and lowers his voice to say, “We’re very good at working together to give a woman pleasure. Multiple …” He clears his throat before continuing. “Peaks of pleasure.”
I don’t know why he didn’t just say orgasms. He’s not exactly being subtle.
I receive a lot of invitations for one night stands, mostly from out-of-towners, but also occasionally from locals whose alcohol consumption makes them forget that they’re surely going to get shot down. I always say no, and I’ll say no tonight, even though the Hayes brothers are very appealing and are apparently offering me something I’ve never experienced before.
Despite my resolve about turning them down, my brain decides to imagine how they might go about achieving what they’re promising. My pussy throbs, no doubt trying to get me to make an exception to my no-hookups policy.
The four brothers who own this bar are in a poly relationship with my friend Caz, who used to be a waitress here. Hell, I even have a regular customer, Lacy Wright, who lives with four men in a similar situation. I’d never given too much thought to their relationships except to wonder if multiple men would be worth the trouble. Even knowing about these types of arrangements, I never expected an opportunity for a polyamorous sexual adventure to just fall into my lap.
“I don’t get involved with customers.” Even though I’ve said this many times before, tonight I have to force the words out.
“Is that a policy here at … Rusty’s?” To finish his sentence, Jonathan looks at the logo on my shirt, which happens to be directly over my left breast.
I straighten my spine, reach for my cloth and swipe at the clean counter for a distraction. “No, it’s a rule of my own.”