Rachel has dated since her divorce, but she’s bored with men who act too polite in bed. She’s dying for the kind of sex that can set her body aflame. Two gorgeous painters in her office fill her mind with fantasies she’d never act on. Or would she?
When the men proposition Rachel, she says yes…but only for a week. Ben and Alex heat up Rachel’s bed and show her how to take charge of her pleasure. Rachel develops feelings for the painters, and she thinks they feel the same. But when the week ends, can Rachel convince Alex and Ben to think of her as more than just a booty call?
The Painters is a scorching MMF menage centered around a forty-something woman exploring her deepest desires.
“…This book is so hot and vivid that you can see it playing out as you are reading it!…I didn’t want this book to end…” – Jennifer, Amazon
"The Painters is not just a guilty pleasure, but is definitely a must read for all lovers of a well-written erotic romance."
"This book is so hot and vivid that you can see it playing out as you are reading it!..."
"...I love the characters, the plot, and if course the love. Robin is one of my new favorite authors, and she doesn't disappoint!"
I was sitting at my desk at work, squeezing my thighs together and trying to stop the throb in my pussy.
Today marked four months and three days since I’d had sex.
And yes, I was counting.
A brightly lit, bustling office at a software company was the last place I usually thought about sex. As a busy secretary for a large department, I barely had time to go to the bathroom some days, let alone fantasize about sex.
I picked up my papers and tried to look busy, secretly watching the two handsome painters who were shooting smoldering looks my way.
They stood by the water cooler, filling their bottles. The tall painter had wavy brown hair that brushed his collar. Broad shoulders filled out his white painter’s uniform, and his rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned forearms. He tilted his head back, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank. A drop of water escaped and clung to his stubbled chin. He bent to refill the bottle, shooting glances my way.
His companion was half a head shorter and lean. A short, military-type haircut and clean-shaven face made him look young. Mid-twenties, maybe. He drank his water and wiped his full lips with the back of his hand.
The white overalls and tight blue shirts enhanced their trim bodies. Paint-splattered work boots completed the sexy package. I pressed my thighs together to calm the throb.
They came to paint the conference room and two newly renovated offices, working in an area taped off with heavy plastic. I’d been so busy all day, I’d barely noticed them until their recent trip to the water cooler.
I scrolled through my emails, half-watching the tall painter screwing the cap onto his water bottle. It was Friday afternoon, and I’d mentally checked out of work. My cubicle sat near the hallway so I could greet people coming into the department. Sometimes I liked the quiet, but other times I craved conversation and chatted with people who came to the water cooler.
The young painter spoke in a low voice, and they both turned to look at me. My heartbeat kicked up a notch. They walked over to my cubicle, and I looked up into a pair of dark brown eyes.
“Hi,” the tall painter said. He offered his hand. “I’m Alex.”
I lifted my hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Rachel.”
He gave my palm a brief squeeze, and his gaze slid down to my chest. My breasts were on the smaller side, but that never stopped men from looking. Alex had dark eyebrows and a strong jawline. A faint scar topped his left cheek, and his big hands were dotted with specks of white paint.
“Hi Rachel, I’m Ben,” the young painter said.
A hot spark of awareness coursed through my body as I shook his hand. Close up, he was stunning. Bright blue eyes ringed with dark lashes, and a small cleft in his chin. His eyes held mine a few seconds too long. And those lips…up close, they were luscious.
“Nice to meet you, Ben.”
How would it feel to fuck a younger man? Why hadn’t I considered it? I always thought they wouldn’t be interested. I held his gaze until he looked away.
Alex ran his hand through his hair. “Saw you watchin’ us over your screen.”
“I didn’t—I wasn’t…”
But it was too late. My neck heated. I had red hair and pale skin, and the smallest blush made my neck and face turn tomato-red.
He smiled, revealing dimples and nice teeth. “It’s okay, darlin’, I was lookin’, too.”
Darlin’? Was this guy for real? He had an accent I didn’t hear in this corner of Vermont.
My boss walked by in his navy power suit, scowling at his phone. Two female co-workers walked by, their eyes fixed on Alex. He waited until they passed to speak.
“Been working here long?” he asked.
He nodded at a picture on my desk. “That your daughter?”
“Yes. She goes to college in Virginia. I’m divorced,” I added, a little too quickly.
Stupid, stupid. I knew how to talk to men, but these handsome painters had me unnerved.
“My brother went to school in Virginia,” Ben said. “Where’s she going?”
We had a pleasant conversation about Virginia. Alex lived there for a while, and came to Vermont in his twenties to live near family. Ben grew up in the town next to mine. They worked for a large construction company.
They were pleasant and intelligent, and I sensed a deep connection between them. They nudged each other while talking, and finished each other’s sentences. Ben’s steady gaze made my stomach flip flop, and the throb in my pussy came back. When he wet his lips, I pressed my thighs together.
God, I needed to get laid.
“So what do you do for fun, Rachel?” Alex asked.
Oh, okay. I was on board.
“I go out with friends.” I leaned forward. “I like to meet new people.”
That was a half-truth. I used to go out with friends more, but lately they were busy with their own careers and kids. A few months ago, I dated a series of men I picked up in bars. Date was the polite word. Fucked was more like it. I passed up online dating because I wanted to meet men in the flesh. I didn’t want to sift through lies about looks or age or height. I wanted to look them in the eye, let them buy me a few drinks, and see if the sparks flew.
It saved a lot of time.
I went to hotel rooms with men who passed the first round. It took three years since my divorce to get the courage to fuck other men. I wanted to see what I was missing, since I’d only been with a few men before I got married. I didn’t want to date; I just wanted check a few things off my list, experiment a little, and have the kind of sex David never gave me.
“Not much nightlife around here,” Alex said.
I laughed. “That’s for sure.”
Alex motioned toward Ben. “He likes to drag me to the city once in a while, hit the clubs. I don’t like it. Music’s too goddamn loud.”
Ben grinned. “You know you’re getting old when the music’s too loud.”
Alex gave him a quick elbow to the gut, but Ben just laughed.
So they were co-workers and went out together. I pictured them flirting with women in a bar, and my stomach tightened.
My boss walked by again. This time, he gave Alex a long stare.
“I should get back to work.” I slid back in my chair.
“Sure,” Alex said. “Nice talkin’ to you, Rachel.”
Ben nodded, and they turned and walked away. I watched their tight asses until they turned the corner. I put my hands on my keyboard, trying to forget about painters and the hot sex I wasn’t having. I let out a deep breath and dug into my work.
I was working on a spreadsheet twenty minutes later when Jenna approached with a stack of folders. I put up my hand.
“Stop, it’s Friday.”
“Sorry,” Jenna said in a sing-songy voice. “I have notes from the last meeting.”
So much for leaving at five. The reports had to be updated before the end of the day. Jenna handed me the files and leaned against my desk. She usually socialized with the younger workers, but sometimes she visited me in Siberia.
Jenna looked like a model in her bright red dress and mile-high heels. Her blonde hair was tied into a fashionable twist, and tasteful gold jewelry dotted her ears and wrist. Way overdressed. Still, I felt dowdy in comparison with my navy skirt, beige blouse, and low heels. I saved my dressing up for going out. At work, I liked to blend in to the crowd.
“I saw those painters talking to you,” she purred. “What did they want?”
I couldn’t help smiling. “They just said hello.”
“You should ask the tall one out,” Jenna said. “He’s cute for an old guy.”
“He looks about thirty or so. That’s not old.”
Jenna thought anyone over twenty-five was over the hill. But experience counted in my book. I’d bet my last paycheck Alex was good with his hands and his mouth.
And his tongue.
Heat started creeping up my neck again, but I took a cool sip of water. Jenna knew I dated, but I didn’t give her any details. I smiled, enjoying the idea of my secret, sexy life away from work.
“I can’t date a man who works here,” I said.
“They’re just painting a few rooms. Next week, they’ll move on to another job.”
True. But I had to keep my two worlds separate. In my private life, I was Rachel Warner, seductive temptress, working my way through a sexual bucket list. At work I was the quiet secretary who only discussed surface things about my private life. I was friendly with some of the other secretaries. I had friends outside of work, and my childhood friend, Cara. She let me sob on her shoulder more than once.
I started typing again. “Don’t you have work to do, Jenna?”
She muttered something about trying to help, and went back to her cubicle. The rest of the afternoon dragged, but I perked up when Alex and Ben came down the hall. They carried paint cans and smiled when they saw me, radiating rugged maleness in my direction. They made a few trips outside with their gear, and I watched from beneath my lashes.
On their last trip, they stopped by my desk. Alex put his arm on the edge of my cubicle wall.
“We’re done for the day.”
“Guess I’ll see you next week,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.
My hand went to the top button on my blouse. I rubbed my fingers over the button and tilted my head a little. Their eyes focused on my fingers. I let my hand drift lightly over my breast, then put it on my desk. I’d perfected this move over the past few months. If men noticed, they were interested. Alex grinned, and his dark eyes crinkled around the edges.
“She’ll do,” Ben said.
“That’s for sure.”
I sat up a little straighter and blinked, trying to play innocent.
“You know Rudy’s?” Ben looked around and lowered his voice. “Over on Spring Street?”
Rudy’s was a sports bar across town. I’d been there with friends, but it was filled with guys playing pool and shouting at sports on TV. Not really my scene.
“Yes, I know Rudy’s.”
Ben wet his bottom lip. “Meet us there in thirty minutes if you’re interested. We come as a package. Do you understand, Rachel?”
I let out a little gasp. My eyes darted around the hallway, but the coast was clear. My heartbeat clattered in my throat as the seconds dragged out. I looked from blue to brown eyes and back again. Ben’s left eyebrow rose a hair, and a half-smile quirked his lips.
“If you don’t want to meet us, no harm done.” Ben lifted his hands. “We’ll never mention it again.”
My mouth went dry. I was expecting flirtation, thinking Ben or maybe Alex would ask me out. But both? I was intrigued.
And desperately horny.
“I understand.” I rested my palms on the surface of the desk and nodded.
“Come on,” Alex said. “Give her time to decide.”
Ben winked, and they turned and walked down the hallway, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.
“Have a good afternoon,” I called, then immediately felt stupid.
It was my standard farewell when someone walked away from my desk. They didn’t look back. Ben opened the glass doors for Alex, and soon they were out of my sight.
Good afternoon? My biggest fantasy was about to come true and all I could say was good afternoon?
My heart pounded so loudly, I thought the whole office would hear. My phone rang, but I let it go to voicemail. There was no way I could speak with a steady voice.
I looked at the clock. Ten minutes to five. I swept my papers into a pile and turned off my computer. I shoved my phone into my bag with shaking hands. There was no way in hell I was giving up the possibility of a threesome for a bunch of paperwork.
“Rachel?” Jenna rushed toward my desk with a new stack of folders. “What about those reports?”
I turned off my light and slung my purse over my shoulder.
“Screw the reports,” I said, stopping Jenna in her tracks. “No one looks at them over the weekend!”
My phone rang, and our eyes met. Two rings. Three.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” she asked.
“Nope.” I raced out of my cube before she could trap me. “See you on Monday!”
I rushed down the hall and flung open the door. My laughter rang out against the bare white walls. I laughed again as I imagined Jenna’s mouth hanging open.
The bucket list was about to get another check mark.