KeyParty

by Jayne Kingston

  With those “fuck me hard, sailor” shoes still on her feet.

  She angled herself toward Alex when he joined her and Petra, and Ben got a glimpse of her profile. He straightened as the slight upturn of her nose and the shape of her mouth started to knock on the door of a memory way back in a dark corner of his mind. The way she tucked a curl behind her ear and the almost shy smile she gave Alex had Ben’s mind working harder, trying to recall how he knew her.

  Then she looked right at him and her jade-green eyes kicked the door wide open.

  Rachel Marsh.

  His fingers tingled as blood rushed from his extremities straight to his cock.

  He’d tutored her for a short time in college. She’d been a terrible student, but he’d liked her. She was smart despite her shortcomings when it came to her premed classes, and she was funny with a kind of naïve air about her. After weeks of harnessing the urge, he’d given in and kissed that amazing mouth of hers one night after realizing studying was getting them nowhere.

  Electric heat crackled along his spine as he recalled the way that mouth tasted and how her incredible body felt in those few moments she’d been wrapped around him on the too-small couch he’d had back in the day. One moment they’d been all tangled up in each other with all signs reading go, and in the next she’d been gone.

  And there she was, standing across the room at a sex party of all things.

  He pushed off the fireplace and made his way toward her little group, an inexplicable surge of annoyance setting him on edge in reaction to the way Alex had dragged her attention back and was flirting his ass off with her.

  “Great party.” He kissed Petra on the cheek before he turned his attention to Rachel. He reached out and she put her hand in his. “Rachel,” he said, touching his lips to the back of her fingers. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Hi, Ben,” she said quietly, her cheeks turning a sexy shade of pink. She’d blossomed out of being a gangly early twenty-something into a golden-era movie starlet of a woman. “It has been a very long time.”

  Alex looked from Rachel to him. “You know each other?”

  “I tutored Rachel in college.” He held her hand a moment before sliding his fingers out from under hers.

  “Poor thing.” Alex gave Rachel a sympathetic look. “How did that go?”

  “Not very well, I’m afraid.” She cleared her throat quietly and turned her gaze to Alex. “Not that it was my teacher’s fault. I was a terrible at chemistry.”

  Alex gave her a skeptical headshake. “I wouldn’t take all the blame. He tried to help me memorize the names of bones when I was in nursing school, but we always ended up playing videos games and eating ourselves stupid on pizza instead.”

  “No kidding?” Rachel’s eyebrows went up and she turned those green eyes back to Ben. “Video games I don’t remember so much, but pizza is ringing some bells.”

  “Speaking of ringing bells,” Ben said to Alex.

  Which made him sing the chorus to Anita Ward’s disco song Ring My Bell in what was admittedly a pretty good falsetto. Rachel’s eyes went wide, but Petra played along and sang backup. They both stopped dancing just as quickly as they’d started.

  Without missing a beat, Alex offered Petra his elbow. “Say, Pete. Why don’t you and I go harass that sexy-ass bartender of yours for a little while?”

  “Why, Lexi, I’d say that’s a swell idea,” Petra answered, taking his arm.

  And then Ben was alone with Rachel. They simply looked at one another a moment.

  He’d forgotten how beautiful she was, only this version of her was…more. Back in college she’d been the shy, reserved suburban girl who’d blended into the background by hiding herself under beat-up jeans and loose shirts, her face free of makeup. The new Rachel had seen the world, and the world had been very good to her.

  “I can honestly say this is the last place I would have ever expected to see you again,” he told her when it was just the two of them. “My God, you look good.”

  “Thank you.” She fiddled with the little pendant on her necklace nervously. “You look pretty damn good yourself.”

  “You know, I hear Petra talking about her friend Rachel every so often, but I never would have thought you were the same person.”

  Small talk was really the last thing he wanted to be making, but the things he wanted to ask her weren’t exactly lighthearted party questions.

  “Funny,” she tugged on her long earring, “she never told me about you at all.”

  The way she said it caught him off guard. “Why would she?”

  The little brunette he’d ended up with the first time he’d attended one of Jude and Petra’s parties was suddenly standing beside them. He was ashamed to admit he couldn’t remember her name off the top of his head.

  “Geez,” she said, clearly exasperated, and threw her arms around Rachel’s neck when Rachel bent for a hug. “I haven’t been able to get close enough to say hi all night. You’re the belle of the ball, darling.”

  “I don’t know about the belle,” she said, deflecting. “I’m fresh meat at any rate.”

  “No one, and I mean no one, can take their eyes off you, Rach.” She looked at Ben and asked, “Am I right?”

  Bree. That was her name. She was an ER nurse at Northwestern University Hospital where Petra and Alex worked, and she was one of Petra’s closest friends. Which meant she was probably one of Rachel’s closest friends as well. She was a sweet girl, bordering on too sweet for his taste, but her enthusiasm in the bedroom had been a lot of fun.

  Still, neither the memory of what was inarguably the best blowjob of his life nor the hungry way she was looking up at him managed to subdue the rapidly growing desire to end up with Rachel and only Rachel at the end of the night.

  “I know I can’t look away,” Ben said to Rachel.

  In his peripheral vision he could see Bree looking between the two of them. Then she laid her hand on his arm. “Do you mind if I borrow Rachel for a few minutes? Now that I have her, there’s someone here I’d like to introduce her to.”

  He minded all right.

  “As long as you promise to bring her back.” He looked from Bree to Rachel. “We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”

  She nodded, a quick, nervous little gesture that made her curls quiver. “Yes we do.”

  * * * * *

  There was an unspoken etiquette to Jude and Petra’s parties that you didn’t show favor for one person over another. If you attended and played, you ended up with whoever’s keys were drawn. He’d attended twice before and hadn’t been disappointed either time, but this time was different.

  Ben moved with the tide the way he was supposed to, going from group to group and girl to girl, flirting and making small talk, but he’d been on edge since he realized it was Rachel he’d been admiring across the room earlier. No matter where he was in the party he felt overly aware of her—where she was, who she was talking to.

  He wanted nothing more than to get her alone again, but once Bree dragged her away he hadn’t been able to get near her. She really was the belle of the ball the way Bree had said. Even the women in the group seemed to have a reverent sort of fascination with her.

  By some small stroke of luck he witnessed her slipping out the back door by herself a couple of hours into the party. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he followed her.

  There were little white lights in the rose of Sharon planted around the perimeter of the expansive deck. Candles burned at regular intervals along the wide railing around the deck, filling the late spring air with a warm, citrus scent. The din of the group inside drifted through the open kitchen window just below the sound of music being piped outside through hidden speakers.

  She was standing in the far corner with her back to him, arms braced on the railing and face turned up to the sky. For a moment he was tempted to go back inside. She clearly wanted to be by herself, but the need to go to her was too strong. He wanted to sink his teeth into
the satiny skin of her shoulder and slip his hands under the short hem of her dress to find out if she was pantyless as well as braless.

  He wanted to bend her over the railing with her skirt hiked up around her waist so he could see that beautiful ass of hers quiver every time he thrust his cock into her.

  “Gorgeous night, isn’t it?”

  She jumped and turned, hand over her heart. “Ben.”

  “I can go back inside if you want to be alone,” he added, taking a step closer.

  “It was getting a little overwhelming in there. If I have to answer another question about England I think I might lose my mind.”

  “Everyone’s just jealous.” He leaned against the railing near her. “They’ve been here, up to their eyes in long hours filled with sick and injured people while you’ve been traveling the high seas in style. You’re an anomaly.”

  He caught the little frown that flickered between her eyebrows.

  “Well, it’s not as glamorous a life as you might think.” She smiled but he could tell he’d stepped on her pride.

  “No?”

  She snorted softly. “No.” She watched him over the rim of her wineglass as she sipped and said nothing more.

  He wanted to bury his face in her neck to find the source of the heady, spicy-sweet scent he could only smell when he was standing close to her. “And why is that?”

  She shook her head thoughtfully. “It’s a lot of hours with few breaks. Most weeks I only had one day off, and I usually spent that sleeping.”

  “It sounds like being an intern without the dingy apartment and the smelly roommate.”

  “Your apartment was dingy on purpose.” She rolled her eyes, reminding him of the time she’d called him out for trying to pass as a broke college kid by living in a cramped apartment full of resale shop furniture. “And you didn’t have a roommate.”

  “I have one now. He smells from time to time.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “And the dingy apartment?”

  He shrugged. “What happened to you, Rachel?”

  He thought he’d put her out of his mind for good a long time ago. Turned out he had a lot of questions he still wanted answered. “Where did you go?”

  She looked down at the glass in her hands. “I completely froze during the chemistry exam I had the day after that last study session. I had a full-blown panic attack the moment my professor put the test in front of me. I couldn’t come up with a single answer, so I left the classroom, packed up my dorm room and quit the next day.”

  “Over one bad chem exam?” He rested one hand on the railing behind her.

  “It wasn’t just chemistry, or that one test. I was failing everything but anatomy. Premed was so much harder than I was expecting. My parents had just announced they were splitting up.” She drew in a deep breath. “It was just too much.”

  “You could have talked to me about it.”

  A small smile touched her lips. “You made me too nervous to talk to you about anything more than chemistry, Ben.” Even in the dim light coming from the lights in the trees he could see she was blushing.

  “What are you talking about? What about all those late nights we spent at that diner across the street from my apartment, bullshitting the night away?”

  “Exactly. Talking about music or which professors we liked or didn’t like was one thing.” She looked up. “Admitting I’d bitten off way more than I could chew to a dean’s list honor student was entirely another. It was embarrassing.”

  He let her have that one. “Is that why you didn’t answer my calls?”

  She blinked at him several times in rapid succession. “You called?”

  He opened his mouth to tell her he’d left a handful of messages before her number was disconnected, but Bree stepped out of the back door.

  “There you are,” she said, frowning a little as she looked from him to Rachel, as though she didn’t understand why they were outside by themselves. “Petra asked me to come find you. The drawing is about to start.”

  “Coming,” Rachel said, pushing off the railing to follow her friend.

  Ben wrapped a hand around her wrist, stopping her.

  “We’ll be in shortly,” he said to Bree.

  Bree gave Rachel a look and Rachel nodded.

  “Okay, then.” Bree smiled and shimmied her shoulders. “Don’t be too long, though. Some of us are ready to get laid,” she said and went back in the house.

  “See me again.” He pulled her close so they were pressed together chest to knee, his hands on her waist and mouth just a few short inches from hers.

  She felt so good in his arms—soft in all the right places and trembling just a little as the pace of her breathing quickened. It took every bit of self-control he had not to kiss her, claim her, possess her right then and there. “No matter what happens or who we end up with tonight, tell me you’ll see me tomorrow.”

  She nodded, green eyes wide, and he took her by the hand and led her inside.

  Petra was standing on the coffee table in the middle of the living room when they rejoined the party. She had two small cloth bags in her hand, one dark blue and one hot pink, and an enormous fishbowl full of condoms at her feet.

  She was notorious for changing the parameters of the game for every party. The night’s rules had been established that keys would be pulled from the women’s bag first, then the men’s. There were two extra bedrooms available in their big house for anyone too eager to go elsewhere, or the couple could leave and go to one or the other’s home. Whichever they chose, they had to end up together.

  Of course, whatever happened between players once they were matched up was completely up to them. Mutual respect between partners, as well as the use of condoms, was a hard, fast rule—no meant no, no questions asked, and everyone played safe.

  Jude joined Petra on the table and took the blue bag from her. She snatched it back with an admonishing look and handed him the pink bag instead.

  Ben tucked his hands in his pockets. Something was up.

  He shifted slightly, bringing his arm to rest against Rachel’s. From the corner of his eye he could see her look at him, but she turned away the moment he looked back.

  Jude pulled the first set of keys. The thing was huge, with several keychains that resembled small toys. A thin, straight-haired blonde named Bridget stepped forward to claim them. Ben didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until it came out on a rush when the set of keys Petra pulled from the men’s bag were not his. Mark, another friend of Jude’s Ben didn’t see in their circle very often, came forward to claim them.

  Bree came forward on the next set of keys and Alex joined her a second later. The room erupted in laughter when he stuffed two fistfuls of condoms into his pockets, swept a clearly excited Bree into his arms and carried her straight upstairs.

  Ben sweated through two more couples being matched up, and then Rachel stepped forward to claim the next set. It was down to him or Gavin—a hotshot neurosurgeon who was fiercely competitive during weekly drop-in basketball games.

  The muscles in his jaw tightened as Petra’s hand slid into the bag. He almost didn’t believe it when her hand came up holding his car key. Almost.

  He turned to Rachel, his blood racing hot in his veins, and offered her his hand.

  “Shall we?”

  Chapter Three

  He was circling her, moving around her slowly as though he was a great dark wolf sizing her up, his prey. As much as she wanted to the clothes to go flying and the fucking to begin, she was enjoying the way he was drawing out the moment.

  “I think Petra rigged the game,” Rachel said, her stomach a riot of butterflies. She was hyper-aware of her nipples pushing against the silky lining of her dress and the aching throb between her legs.

  “I think you might be right,” he answered, pulling his hand out of his pocket and holding it toward her, palm up. His key fob sat in the middle with a puffy star sticker attached to the back.

  “Damn ki
ddie nurse and her stickers,” she muttered, and he smiled.

  A long moment passed with him looking as though he was going to spring at any moment and her becoming increasingly wobbly on her heels.

  “We don’t have to do this, Ben,” she offered, suddenly and hugely embarrassed to have been so obviously set up by her friend. The fact that he remembered her was one thing. Still wanting anything to do with her after the way she’d run out on him that night back in college and then never contacted him again was another.

  For as nervous as she was to finally have him in her bedroom, the absolute last thing she wanted was for him to back out and leave. How many years had she been replaying the night they’d made out on his couch in her head? How many times had she imagined going back to finish what they’d started while touching herself in the small shower of her cabin on the ship, or in the bathroom alone while Neal slept contentedly after leaving her wanting more?

  Really, there were too many times to count.

  “Oh, no,” he taunted, moving around her again. “I’m not letting you get away so easily this time,” he breathed close to her ear.

  She could feel the heat of his body against her back. His fingertips brushed her neck just below her hairline. Her nipples tightened, her skin rippled with goose bumps and a fresh wave of heat rolled out from her core.

  “You and I have some unfinished business to attend to, don’t we?” he asked, trailing a single fingertip down her spine. Her eyes closed, her entire being focused on his touch moving under the back of her dress, sliding across her skin until it hooked one thin strap and slipped it off her shoulder.

  With one side of her dress just barely hanging on by her hard nipple, she pulled herself up straight and forced herself to look him in the eye as he moved in front of her again. “I guess we do.”

  “Good.” One corner of his mouth curled. “So tell me, Rachel, why did you run out that night?”