Dirty Desires

“Everyone?” Ty raises a brow. Flashes Ian a brotherly look. One where he communicates everything in a glance.

“Jasmine has to look for romance somewhere now that she’s married to Shep,” Ian says.

Ty doesn’t even begin to buy that. He shakes his head. Turns to me with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Eve.”

“You too, Ty.” I don’t add do you go by Ty because you like to tie women up? That would be silly. But it sure would be interesting if that ran in the family. Is it a genetic thing? Or something to do with your upbringing? Can you tell I want you to leave so I can fuck your brother senseless?

Ahem.

That same knowing nod. “Ian’s actually rolled up his sleeves. How metaphorical. Fitting for what we have to discuss.”

“I thought you were arriving Friday,” Ian says.

“Nice to see you too. My flight was fine. Thanks for asking,” he says.

How did he get here so fast? It’s a couple hours from JFK in a car. We took a helicopter. Or maybe he flies helicopters too.

Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m not sure there’s anything either one of them could say that would surprise me.

“How was your flight?” I ask.

“A woman with manners. I appreciate that.” His laugh is easy. So much like Ian’s laugh. A little higher pitched. A little more playful. “A charter. Quiet. Time to work. Not too much turbulence.”

“Oh, so you’re also super rich?” My cheeks flush. “Oh, did I say that out loud?”

“Not as rich as Ian.” He shoots his brother a look. “But I’m gaining on him.”

“I’ve only flown coach before. And only once out of the country. To Toronto,” I say.

Ian chuckles. “Of course.”

“What?” My blush deepens. There are two of them now. Two smooth, sexy as sin British men. They speak the same language. But there’s a subtext I don’t begin to understand.

Ian wraps his arms around my waist. Pulls my body into his. Shoots his brother some look that makes him react with an aborted eye roll.

It is possessive. Possessive in a way I really, really like.

This time, Ian’s hand goes to my tattoo. He traces the lines of Latin. “Your obsession.”

“I’m not obsessed.” Okay, I am obsessed.

And I…

Can’t think. At all.

This is too intense.

Ian holding me in a way that says fuck off, she’s mine.

His brother staring please, why would I want to take her? But still looking at me like he’s picking me apart.

And something else between them. This history I don’t share. This subtext I don’t know.

For the first time, I understand why some women fantasize about two men at once. I wouldn’t want Ian’s brother to join us. But I get the appeal. All that intensity and possession and heat.

“A scholar this time?” Ty interrupts my dirty thoughts. “That’s a refreshing change for you.”

“That’s his idea of a compliment,” Ian says.

I want to ask more. What types of woman does Ian usually date? Why does he want me so much? Ty knows something.

But now isn’t the time. Now is…

I should give them some space. It’s what I would want, if it was me and Addie. “We’re actually cooking dinner. Are you hungry? I can finish up if you need to talk.”

Ian shakes his head. “Ty’s a good cook.”

“Putting me to work already?” Ty asks.

Ian nods of course. “We’re almost finished. You can set the table.”

Ty chuckles. “The honor.” He looks to me. “For you, Eve, I’ll set the table. Ian can fuck off.”

“Only if Eve’s going to watch,” Ian says.

Once again, I turn red.

Once again, Ty barely avoids rolling his eyes. “You’ve been in the States too long. You’ve lost your sense of subtlety.”

“Since when do you appreciate subtlety?” Ian asks.

“It has its uses.” Again, a knowing look.

Again, I have no fucking idea what he means.

But something tells me I shouldn’t ask. Or maybe I’m scared to ask. Scared to hear something that will rain on my parade.

Ty does set the table.

Ian pulls me into a tight embrace. Runs his lips up my neck. Along my earlobe. “Sit with him.”

“Who with what?”

He chuckles. “He’s heard a lot about you.”

“You talk about me?”

“All the time.”

“You talk to your brother often?” He’s only mentioned him in passing.

“He runs the London office of one of our companies.”

“Oh.” So many questions. Too many. “You work together?”

“Not directly. Not most of the time. If he’s here… I imagine it’s because of a negotiation in London.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. Oh.”

“This party was supposed to celebrate… a few things. It’s nearly his birthday.”

“You threw a party in the Hamptons to celebrate your brother’s birthday?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?”

He releases me. Looks to his brother, who’s now pouring generous helpings of gin over ice. “We have a tradition. One-upping each other. Last year, he rented a villa in the Caribbean.”

“It sounds like he won.” My laugh is awkward. There’s something I’m missing here. But I think he’s inviting me to find it. Maybe. “Villa in the Caribbean is way better than house in the Hamptons.”