Author: Roni Loren
He put his hand out to her. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you into bed. It’s late.”
She smiled and let him lead her by the hand to the bed. Andre peeled back the comforter and patted the mattress. She climbed beneath the covers. “You know, I don’t think I’ve been tucked into bed since I was a little girl.”
He laid the blanket over her and placed a light kiss on her lips, the latter sending warmth to the best places. His gaze softened. “I feel privileged to be the one to break the dry spell then.”
Oh, he and Jace were breaking her dry spell all right.
“Good night, bella. Get some rest.” He leaned over to click off the bedside lamp.
“Wait.”
He paused, his fingers on the switch, looking over at her.
She was going to tell him to leave it on because of her fear, but something else sprung to her lips instead. “Stay.”
“What?”
She pushed the comforter back down. This was ridiculous. She spent enough nights alone. Screw that. This was supposed to be her fantasy weekend. And she had no history and mixed-up feelings to worry about with Andre. She just liked him, plain and simple. Enjoyed talking to him, and well, touching him wasn’t so bad either. “Stay with me?”
He eyed the bed a bit warily. “Evan, I’ll be fine. The couch won’t kill me.”
“It’s not about that. I’m just—” She looked away quickly, biting her lip. What in the hell was wrong with her? She’d almost slipped up and told him she was tired of sleeping alone. “I mean, I was thinking before we jump into the whole ménage thing, this might help me get more comfortable with you, be less nervous.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Just how comfortable are we talking? Because I pride myself on self-control, but I’m not dead.”
She laughed and raised her hand, remembering his Boy Scout reference from a few weeks before. “Scout’s honor. We’ll just sleep. I won’t even run my tongue along your nipple rings and tug them with my teeth, even though I really, really want to.”
He shook his head then peeled off his shirt. “We better be careful around you, bella. We may have met our match.”
He clicked off the lamp, bathing the room in moonlight, and climbed into bed. Without saying another word, he stretched out behind her and gathered her against him, as if they were lovers who had slept this way for years. She couldn’t prevent the little sigh that passed her lips as his arms and heat enveloped her.
It was lovely and sexy and comforting.
Almost perfect.
The only other thing that would make it better would be to have a certain blond stretched out against her other side.
And that realization scared her more than anything had in a long, long time.
FOURTEEN
Jace stomped out of the bedroom, squinting through the bright morning light filling the living room. He’d woken up cold, alone, and pissed. Pissed that Evan wasn’t in bed next to him and really pissed that he cared.
He should’ve never given in to his need to claim her last night. She’d responded so well under his hand, thrived beneath the dominance like a daisy in sunshine. The rush he’d gotten from her reactions had left him reeling. So much so that he’d gone and dropped his guard without realizing it. He had joked around with her like he used to, had even wanted her to share his bed overnight, which was something he never did with anyone. He’d let himself feel something for her, goddammit.
Which is exactly why last night could never happen again. Even if the mere thought of having Evan all to himself for another round had his dick stiffening in his pajama pants. The only way he was touching her again was if Andre was there, too. End of story.
He glanced around the living room, his gaze landing on the couch, a pillow and blanket spread out on it. Oh, hell no. If Evan had slept on that hard sofa instead of waking him and admitting she wasn’t cool with sharing a bed, he was going to spank her ass. He’d told her he would take care of her this weekend. Why wouldn’t she let him?
But if she had slept out here, where the hell was she? He looked around the room again and noticed an abandoned glass of water on the dining room table.
Ah, fuck.
The answer hit him like a knee to the groin. He knew exactly where she was.
And he should be damn happy about it, but instead he had to breathe through a wave of anger he had no right to have. He’d set this up. Talked to Andre himself last night. Rolled out the goddamned red carpet. This is what needed to happen, right?
Unable to stop himself from confirming his suspicions, he crossed to the other side of the cabin until he was standing in front of Andre’s door. He probably should knock.
No, screw that. He needed to see the unedited version and get it through his thick skull that he had no claim to Evan. And she owed him no loyalty either. Gritting his teeth, he turned the knob and pushed open the door.
What lay inside wasn’t unexpected, but twisted him up just the same. The comforter was in a tangle, exposing Andre and Evan, both half-dressed and sound asleep. Evan’s shirt had ridden up, and Andre had a hand splayed possessively over her bare belly.
He blew out a breath.
So they’d fucked. Without him.
And then Evan had chosen to curl up with Andre for the night—a stranger to her—instead of with him. Well that was just fucking fine. Perfect.
Andre was the one who was better at the romantic, cuddling shit with women anyway. Shouldn’t Jace just leave him to it? Mr. Suave had probably murmured sweet words to Evan after they’d had sex. Told her how beautiful she was, how happy he was to be next to her. Kissed away her fear of the dark.
Bitterness burned at the back of Jace’s throat.
Whatever.
He resisted the inclination to slam the door and clicked it shut instead. So, problem solved. Let the two of them screw until the sun went down if they wanted. Because each time Jace knew Evan was with someone else, it would help him put another stone back into the foundation she’d rocked by stepping back into his life. Would remind him of what this was. And what it most definitely was not.
He made his way back to the kitchen and put on the coffee, planning to drink a cup on the back deck so he wouldn’t have to hear it if Evan and Andre did decide to have a little pre-breakfast action.
But before the coffee finished percolating, Andre shuffled into the kitchen, sniffing the air. “Mmm, coffee. Thanks, bro. I’ll take one sugar. And how ’bout some pancakes, too? I like mine in Mickey Mouse shapes.”
Jace shot him a deadly glare and shoved past him to grab mugs from the cabinet.
Andre smirked as he leaned against the counter. “What crawled up your ass?”
Jace grunted and turned his back to him to pour himself a cup, trying to get a hold on the jealousy, the anger, the frustration that he was feeling either of those things in the first place. “I’m fine. Just need some caffeine.”
“You and me both.” Andre pushed up from the counter as soon as Jace moved away from the coffeepot so he could get his own fix. “I barely slept last night.”
Jace’s teeth clenched, but he forced himself to look unaffected. None of this was Andre’s fault. The guy had only done what the two of them always did—shared a woman without concerns about jealousy. Jace kept his tone relaxed. “Yeah, well, tough to sleep when you’re too busy screwing.”
Andre turned around and sipped his coffee. “No kidding, she’s got some stamina, that one. Man, so fucking hot. The way she—”
Red clouded Jace’s vision as fuming heat flooded his system. He slammed his cup down on the counter. “I don’t need a goddamned play-by-play, asshole.”
Andre smirked. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
The smug tone made Jace’s fists curl. He’d never punched a friend, but there was a first time for everything.
Andre nodded in his direction. “You can stop plotting my murder. I’m just proving a point.”
Jace barely heard him over the angry buzzing in his brain. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t do anything with Evan—well, besides kissing her. She was reluctant to go further without talking to you first, and I wasn’t going to go down that road if she didn’t feel ready.”
“Oh.”
Oh. Jace’s chest shouldn’t have puffed up, shouldn’t have filled with a rush of relief and . . . satisfaction. He couldn’t stop the idiotic smile that crept to his lips, so he tried to cover it by picking up his mug again and taking a swig of scalding coffee.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Andre said, shaking his head. “Don’t do this, man. Not with her.”
Jace opened his mouth to ask him what that was supposed to mean, but Andre raised a hand to halt him.
“Look, I’m not blind, okay? You’re broadcasting ‘mine’ vibes with a damn bullhorn. This girl means something to you. I get it. And it’s good to see you still have that in you. But this is not the girl to do that with. No matter what happens this weekend, you need to remember she’s not yours, mine, or ours.”
Jace made a dismissive snort, even though Andre’s words dug right beneath his skin. “I’m well aware of who she belongs to.”
“Uh-huh.” Andre gave him a narrow look and then walked around the island to slide onto a barstool on the other side. “That’s why you’re all of a sudden looking at me like I’m the enemy?”
Jace blew out a long breath, realizing that trying to bullshit Andre was like trying to punk the CIA. “Look, I’ll be fine, all right. I just need to get back to what we do best. No more one-on-one.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since we got here. Now just don’t try to tackle me the first time I touch her. Because I am going to touch her, Jace. She may have developed some sense of loyalty to you, but you’re not the only one she’s attracted to.”
The smooth assurance in Andre’s voice had Jace’s jaw tightening again, but he gave him a quick nod. “I’m—”
“Please tell me that’s coffee I smell,” said a hoarse voice, halting further conversation.
Both of them turned to see Evan pad barefoot into the kitchen, looking rumpled and oh so tempting in Jace’s shirt.
Jace handed her a mug, determined to prove to Andre—and himself—that he could move past whatever had come over him and make this simply another fun, relaxing weekend with a hot woman. “Good morning, sunshine. Sounds like you swallowed a mouthful of gravel.”
She took the cup from him and pushed up on her tiptoes, surprising him with a soft kiss, then a saucy smile. “I swallowed something for sure.”
Andre chuckled. “Ten seconds.”
Both Jace and Evan turned toward him. She lifted a brow. “What’s that?”
“The amount of time you need to be in the room before all my blood rushes south.”
She laughed, an open and unashamed sound that did indeed make Jace’s cock begin to stiffen. Yesterday, Evan had been unsure, cautious, but now the vixen he’d gotten a glimpse of in his room last night was emerging. They were making her feel safe—free to be herself. The transformation gave Jace some weird twinge of pride.
She looked up at him, those blue eyes and her palm against his bare chest making him forget his train of thought. “I want to kiss Andre, too. You okay with that?”
Choking back the fuck no that first jumped to his lips was like swallowing broken glass, but he covered it with a casual shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Some unreadable expression flickered over her features, but then she mirrored his shrug. “No reason. I guess I’m still figuring out the protocol of this whole thing.”
He smirked. “I appreciate your diligence, babe, but I already told you I don’t care what you do with Andre—kiss, fuck. Him. Me. Both of us at the same time. That’s the beauty of ménage. We’re all just here to have a good time.”
He put his hand out to her. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you into bed. It’s late.”
She smiled and let him lead her by the hand to the bed. Andre peeled back the comforter and patted the mattress. She climbed beneath the covers. “You know, I don’t think I’ve been tucked into bed since I was a little girl.”
He laid the blanket over her and placed a light kiss on her lips, the latter sending warmth to the best places. His gaze softened. “I feel privileged to be the one to break the dry spell then.”
Oh, he and Jace were breaking her dry spell all right.
“Good night, bella. Get some rest.” He leaned over to click off the bedside lamp.
“Wait.”
He paused, his fingers on the switch, looking over at her.
She was going to tell him to leave it on because of her fear, but something else sprung to her lips instead. “Stay.”
“What?”
She pushed the comforter back down. This was ridiculous. She spent enough nights alone. Screw that. This was supposed to be her fantasy weekend. And she had no history and mixed-up feelings to worry about with Andre. She just liked him, plain and simple. Enjoyed talking to him, and well, touching him wasn’t so bad either. “Stay with me?”
He eyed the bed a bit warily. “Evan, I’ll be fine. The couch won’t kill me.”
“It’s not about that. I’m just—” She looked away quickly, biting her lip. What in the hell was wrong with her? She’d almost slipped up and told him she was tired of sleeping alone. “I mean, I was thinking before we jump into the whole ménage thing, this might help me get more comfortable with you, be less nervous.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Just how comfortable are we talking? Because I pride myself on self-control, but I’m not dead.”
She laughed and raised her hand, remembering his Boy Scout reference from a few weeks before. “Scout’s honor. We’ll just sleep. I won’t even run my tongue along your nipple rings and tug them with my teeth, even though I really, really want to.”
He shook his head then peeled off his shirt. “We better be careful around you, bella. We may have met our match.”
He clicked off the lamp, bathing the room in moonlight, and climbed into bed. Without saying another word, he stretched out behind her and gathered her against him, as if they were lovers who had slept this way for years. She couldn’t prevent the little sigh that passed her lips as his arms and heat enveloped her.
It was lovely and sexy and comforting.
Almost perfect.
The only other thing that would make it better would be to have a certain blond stretched out against her other side.
And that realization scared her more than anything had in a long, long time.
FOURTEEN
Jace stomped out of the bedroom, squinting through the bright morning light filling the living room. He’d woken up cold, alone, and pissed. Pissed that Evan wasn’t in bed next to him and really pissed that he cared.
He should’ve never given in to his need to claim her last night. She’d responded so well under his hand, thrived beneath the dominance like a daisy in sunshine. The rush he’d gotten from her reactions had left him reeling. So much so that he’d gone and dropped his guard without realizing it. He had joked around with her like he used to, had even wanted her to share his bed overnight, which was something he never did with anyone. He’d let himself feel something for her, goddammit.
Which is exactly why last night could never happen again. Even if the mere thought of having Evan all to himself for another round had his dick stiffening in his pajama pants. The only way he was touching her again was if Andre was there, too. End of story.
He glanced around the living room, his gaze landing on the couch, a pillow and blanket spread out on it. Oh, hell no. If Evan had slept on that hard sofa instead of waking him and admitting she wasn’t cool with sharing a bed, he was going to spank her ass. He’d told her he would take care of her this weekend. Why wouldn’t she let him?
But if she had slept out here, where the hell was she? He looked around the room again and noticed an abandoned glass of water on the dining room table.
Ah, fuck.
The answer hit him like a knee to the groin. He knew exactly where she was.
And he should be damn happy about it, but instead he had to breathe through a wave of anger he had no right to have. He’d set this up. Talked to Andre himself last night. Rolled out the goddamned red carpet. This is what needed to happen, right?
Unable to stop himself from confirming his suspicions, he crossed to the other side of the cabin until he was standing in front of Andre’s door. He probably should knock.
No, screw that. He needed to see the unedited version and get it through his thick skull that he had no claim to Evan. And she owed him no loyalty either. Gritting his teeth, he turned the knob and pushed open the door.
What lay inside wasn’t unexpected, but twisted him up just the same. The comforter was in a tangle, exposing Andre and Evan, both half-dressed and sound asleep. Evan’s shirt had ridden up, and Andre had a hand splayed possessively over her bare belly.
He blew out a breath.
So they’d fucked. Without him.
And then Evan had chosen to curl up with Andre for the night—a stranger to her—instead of with him. Well that was just fucking fine. Perfect.
Andre was the one who was better at the romantic, cuddling shit with women anyway. Shouldn’t Jace just leave him to it? Mr. Suave had probably murmured sweet words to Evan after they’d had sex. Told her how beautiful she was, how happy he was to be next to her. Kissed away her fear of the dark.
Bitterness burned at the back of Jace’s throat.
Whatever.
He resisted the inclination to slam the door and clicked it shut instead. So, problem solved. Let the two of them screw until the sun went down if they wanted. Because each time Jace knew Evan was with someone else, it would help him put another stone back into the foundation she’d rocked by stepping back into his life. Would remind him of what this was. And what it most definitely was not.
He made his way back to the kitchen and put on the coffee, planning to drink a cup on the back deck so he wouldn’t have to hear it if Evan and Andre did decide to have a little pre-breakfast action.
But before the coffee finished percolating, Andre shuffled into the kitchen, sniffing the air. “Mmm, coffee. Thanks, bro. I’ll take one sugar. And how ’bout some pancakes, too? I like mine in Mickey Mouse shapes.”
Jace shot him a deadly glare and shoved past him to grab mugs from the cabinet.
Andre smirked as he leaned against the counter. “What crawled up your ass?”
Jace grunted and turned his back to him to pour himself a cup, trying to get a hold on the jealousy, the anger, the frustration that he was feeling either of those things in the first place. “I’m fine. Just need some caffeine.”
“You and me both.” Andre pushed up from the counter as soon as Jace moved away from the coffeepot so he could get his own fix. “I barely slept last night.”
Jace’s teeth clenched, but he forced himself to look unaffected. None of this was Andre’s fault. The guy had only done what the two of them always did—shared a woman without concerns about jealousy. Jace kept his tone relaxed. “Yeah, well, tough to sleep when you’re too busy screwing.”
Andre turned around and sipped his coffee. “No kidding, she’s got some stamina, that one. Man, so fucking hot. The way she—”
Red clouded Jace’s vision as fuming heat flooded his system. He slammed his cup down on the counter. “I don’t need a goddamned play-by-play, asshole.”
Andre smirked. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
The smug tone made Jace’s fists curl. He’d never punched a friend, but there was a first time for everything.
Andre nodded in his direction. “You can stop plotting my murder. I’m just proving a point.”
Jace barely heard him over the angry buzzing in his brain. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t do anything with Evan—well, besides kissing her. She was reluctant to go further without talking to you first, and I wasn’t going to go down that road if she didn’t feel ready.”
“Oh.”
Oh. Jace’s chest shouldn’t have puffed up, shouldn’t have filled with a rush of relief and . . . satisfaction. He couldn’t stop the idiotic smile that crept to his lips, so he tried to cover it by picking up his mug again and taking a swig of scalding coffee.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Andre said, shaking his head. “Don’t do this, man. Not with her.”
Jace opened his mouth to ask him what that was supposed to mean, but Andre raised a hand to halt him.
“Look, I’m not blind, okay? You’re broadcasting ‘mine’ vibes with a damn bullhorn. This girl means something to you. I get it. And it’s good to see you still have that in you. But this is not the girl to do that with. No matter what happens this weekend, you need to remember she’s not yours, mine, or ours.”
Jace made a dismissive snort, even though Andre’s words dug right beneath his skin. “I’m well aware of who she belongs to.”
“Uh-huh.” Andre gave him a narrow look and then walked around the island to slide onto a barstool on the other side. “That’s why you’re all of a sudden looking at me like I’m the enemy?”
Jace blew out a long breath, realizing that trying to bullshit Andre was like trying to punk the CIA. “Look, I’ll be fine, all right. I just need to get back to what we do best. No more one-on-one.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since we got here. Now just don’t try to tackle me the first time I touch her. Because I am going to touch her, Jace. She may have developed some sense of loyalty to you, but you’re not the only one she’s attracted to.”
The smooth assurance in Andre’s voice had Jace’s jaw tightening again, but he gave him a quick nod. “I’m—”
“Please tell me that’s coffee I smell,” said a hoarse voice, halting further conversation.
Both of them turned to see Evan pad barefoot into the kitchen, looking rumpled and oh so tempting in Jace’s shirt.
Jace handed her a mug, determined to prove to Andre—and himself—that he could move past whatever had come over him and make this simply another fun, relaxing weekend with a hot woman. “Good morning, sunshine. Sounds like you swallowed a mouthful of gravel.”
She took the cup from him and pushed up on her tiptoes, surprising him with a soft kiss, then a saucy smile. “I swallowed something for sure.”
Andre chuckled. “Ten seconds.”
Both Jace and Evan turned toward him. She lifted a brow. “What’s that?”
“The amount of time you need to be in the room before all my blood rushes south.”
She laughed, an open and unashamed sound that did indeed make Jace’s cock begin to stiffen. Yesterday, Evan had been unsure, cautious, but now the vixen he’d gotten a glimpse of in his room last night was emerging. They were making her feel safe—free to be herself. The transformation gave Jace some weird twinge of pride.
She looked up at him, those blue eyes and her palm against his bare chest making him forget his train of thought. “I want to kiss Andre, too. You okay with that?”
Choking back the fuck no that first jumped to his lips was like swallowing broken glass, but he covered it with a casual shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Some unreadable expression flickered over her features, but then she mirrored his shrug. “No reason. I guess I’m still figuring out the protocol of this whole thing.”
He smirked. “I appreciate your diligence, babe, but I already told you I don’t care what you do with Andre—kiss, fuck. Him. Me. Both of us at the same time. That’s the beauty of ménage. We’re all just here to have a good time.”
