“That must have been very difficult for him,” Isabel said.

I nodded. Jacques’ aunt had been an exceptionally unkind woman, and he still bore the physical and emotional scars of her abuse. But he would have to share those details with Isabel himself, if he chose to do so. “Jacques and I met in primary school, and we quickly became inseparable. You wouldn’t know it to look at him now, but he was something of a runt as a child. The bigger children would pick on him, unless I was around to defend him. He became determined to learn how to defend himself.”

“And that’s how he came to wrestling?” Isabel asked, and I nodded.

“He discovered wrestling as a teen, and it brought him here. I didn’t see him for a few years, until his retirement. I assume you’re familiar with the circumstances surrounding his retirement from wrestling?” Isabel nodded. “It has been a difficult road for him. I don’t want to see him hurt again.”

“You’re a good friend,” Isabel said. “You protected him when you were children, and now you’re protecting him as an adult.”

I ducked my head, embarrassed.

“It’s clear how much you care about him,” Isabel continued. “I mean, you’ve dedicated the last five years of your life to helping him. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“He is like a brother to me,” I said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

“Still, five years is a long time,” Isabel said. “Don’t you ever get lonely? I imagine the circumstances make dating difficult.”

She’d opened up an opportunity, and I seized it. “Actually,” I said, struggling to keep my tone casual, “we’ve been discussing the possibility of bringing in … companionship from outside.”

Understanding dawned on Isabel’s face. “You mean … all of you?” she asked. I nodded.

“Jacques has always been against it, but we think he’s coming around. We think it would be good for him—for all of us, really.”

Isabel chewed her lip as she absorbed this, and I began to worry that I’d misread the situation, moved too quickly. My heart sank. I wondered how I would explain to the other men that I’d managed to scare her off in one conversation.

“Aren’t you worried about stirring up jealousy?” she asked finally. “You all seem so close, wouldn’t you be afraid to jeopardize your friendship?”

Hope bloomed in my chest. So I hadn’t frightened her off. “I can’t speak for the others,” I said carefully, “but personally, I love seeing my woman satisfied more than anything. Watching her enjoy multiple men at once, giving her more pleasure than one man is capable of.”

Isabel blushed bright red, and again I worried that I had gone too far. “I’ve always … fantasized about it,” she admitted, so quietly I had to lean in to hear her. “About having two men at once.”

“But you never have?” I asked. She shook her head.

“The opportunity never presented itself,” she said.

My mind raced. This was my chance. “Would you like to try it?”

Isabel’s mouth formed a tiny O of surprise. “With you?” she asked.

“And one of the others. Étienne, maybe.”

“He’s the only one I haven’t met yet,” Isabel said. “Besides Jacques, obviously.”

“You’ll like him,” I assured her. “We’ll make sure it’s pleasurable for you. If you want, that is.”

Isabel bit her lip, and I feared she might draw blood. Finally, she nodded once, decisively. “Yes,” she said. “On one condition.”

My heart raced. “Name it,” I said.

“No one else can know. I don’t want them to judge me.”

“No one here will judge you,” I assured her. “But of course, I won’t share anything you don’t want me to.”

Isabel nodded her thanks. “Come to my room tonight?” she asked. “Both of you.”

11

Isabel

What had I gotten myself into? My mind and heart were both racing as I dressed myself after dinner. I was grateful that I’d packed a few nicer articles of clothing for my stay, though I hadn’t actually thought I’d have a chance to wear them when I’d packed my bags. What exactly did one wear for a group sex date with two French men, I wondered.

I thought back on my meeting with Bernard. He had been every bit as sexy as the rest of the men, with his messy chestnut hair and neatly groomed goatee. Though I’d yet to lay eyes on Étienne, if the other men were any indication, he was likely to be just as attractive.

I surveyed myself in the mirror: black and silver corset top, tight black miniskirt, and the highest heels in my closet. With my hair loose around my shoulders, I had to admit, I looked pretty sexy. Excitement thrummed in my stomach. It had been such a long time since I’d been with anyone, and now I was about to have two men at once. The thought was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Leaning close into the vanity mirror, I applied a dark smoky eye, extra cautious to keep the wings of my heavy black eyeliner even. I had just finished applying and blotting a final coat of red lipstick when a knock sounded at the door.

Tags: Nicole Casey Seven Ways to Sin Fantasy
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