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“Or if she prefers a double game,” Hervé offered.
“What about holidays?”
“Major or minor?”
“Major, during the waxing moon…”
Belle shook her head. “You two are crazy.”
“Yup, crazy about you.” Armand leant forwards and reached across the desk to push the paper closer to her. “Sign the prenup, Belle.”
“I…I don’t know. I have to think about this.”
“You think too much, love.” Hervé grabbed a pen and shoved it in her hand. “Sign it. I can’t get married without a prenup. And neither can Armand.”
Belle peered at the two-page document. It was printed in tiny letters and written in the flowery-kind of language she barely understood. It was worse than any legal documents she’d read. She skimmed to the bottom of the page where she must sign. From her vague understanding, when she signed it, she would enter a legal binding agreement into a three-way marriage with Armand and Hervé.
Was this what she really wanted? This didn’t seem right. Married to two men at the same time sounded too…scandalous.
Hervé made an impatient sound and grabbed her hand, fixing the pen aimed to the blank space she had to put her signature in. “Sign it. Scribble. Anything. This suspense is killing me.”
Armand got up from his seat and came to her side. “Belle,” he said, his hand slipping under her skirt. “I’m miserable without you, babe. Hervé too. I can’t promise you everything will be smooth sailing, but at least we can try. To make things work for all of us.”
Hervé leant down and kissed the shell of her ear. “Please, love.”
Belle sucked in a deep breath. “This is crazy…”
“But we know you want this,” Armand pressed.
She couldn’t deny it. She loved both men and being with them was all she ever wanted. She bit her lip and scribbled her name on the prenup paper. She heard Armand draw a relieved breath. Hervé chortled.
“Wasn’t that hard, was it?” Hervé inquired.
Hervé took the prenup and read it with satisfaction. “We should discuss the wedding details and living arrangements right after we take care of an urgent matter.”
“What matter?” Belle asked suspiciously.
“Four weeks without having you. It’s killing me,” Armand said gruffly. He lifted her from the seat and draped her belly-down on the desk.
“Hey!” she squeaked. “What are you doing?”
“Just helping ourselves to an afternoon cookie,” Hervé replied.
“Nookie,” Armand corrected. “Seriously, your human slang sucks, cousin.”
“Bite me.” Hervé drew a sharp inhalation. “I bet she’s wet.”
Belle stifled a moan when two pairs of strong hands caressed her backside. She heard her zipper being unzipped and her skirt was pulled down. Her panties followed, pooling near her ankles.
“Heavens, she is,” Armand hissed. He stroked her pussy lips.
“Of course,” Hervé added. “She’s been miserable without us. She regretted calling you a macho shit or me for having my head stuck in the clouds. Do you know how many times she was about to pick up her phone and call us?”
God damn it. “Have you been spying on me?” Belle tried to move but Hervé put his palm on the small of her back and pushed her down.
Hervé’s wicked laugh echoed in the room. “You didn’t see me, but I was never far away from you, love.”
“Stubborn,” Armand chastised. He parted her moist lips and slid a finger into her opening.
