Explosive (The Black Opals)

by St. Claire, Tori

  When she lowered herself, he arched a questioning eyebrow as if to check her certainty. At her confirming nod, he gave her waist a reassuring squeeze before jumping feet-first into her game. His nimble fingers unclasped the topmost button on her blouse. She flashed Brice a smile and stepped away, turning toward Jayce. As she spoke, she worked her way down the remaining buttons, releasing them with slow deliberateness. Pretending she wasn’t perfectly aware of her own actions. “Let me get out of these clothes and into something more comfortable. Then I’ll start dinner.”

  Jayce’s smoldering gaze held hers. Part anger, part jealousy—all red-blooded, aroused male. He stalked slowly to the couch, resuming his seat, danger emanating off him. But with that warning came resignation, acceptance that he’d been tag-teamed into dinner. A chill wafted down her spine. Maybe she was taking this too far. Maybe…

  No. He wanted one night, and so did she.

  She turned her back and peeled her blouse off her shoulders. Cool air caressed her skin, making her nipples pebble beneath the thin lace of her bra. Heading for the bathroom, she willed strength into suddenly weak knees.

  “Alyssa?” Brice halted her steps.

  “Hm?” She turned around, her hands moving behind her back to the closure on her bra.

  Sheer wickedness danced across Brice’s mouth as he gave her a smirk. “Wine—I was thinking maybe the Bordeaux we have downstairs?”

  Like hell he was. The man wouldn’t choose wine if someone held a gun to his head. He was creating a reason for escape. Buying her time to cement her plan.

  And doing a damn good job of giving her another minute to peel off another layer of clothing in front of Jayce. Bravo, Brice.

  She unhooked her bra, left it loose, and wriggled out of her skirt. This time, she didn’t dare look at Jayce. She could feel the heat of his stare burning into her, and his silence said all she needed to hear. He hadn’t left. Wouldn’t now. Not if she knew him like she used to. Thong panties were his undoing. Or had been, back then.

  Now it was her turn to repay Brice’s favor. “No…I’m not really in the mood for wine tonight.”

  Relief flashed ever-so-briefly across Brice’s face. “Rum and coke then for you?”

  She flashed him another smile and nodded, once more turning for the hall and the bathroom beyond. Behind her, a soft hiss echoed over the sound of Brice’s footsteps as he made his way toward the kitchen.

  One step away from the hall, one step away from retreating out of Jayce’s view, Alyssa shrugged off her bra. She reached for the recessed bathroom door, careful to pivot just enough that Jayce, if he were looking, would see her in partial profile. Her hand shook as she grasped the knob, her courage threatening to break.

  When the door swung open, sheer force of will allowed her to walk, not bolt, inside. She shut it behind her, cringing as it slammed just a little too hard. Good grief…this was insanity. One wrong move, one slip or wrong word, and the whole impromptu plan could blow up in her face. What in the world had crossfired in her head? Jayce knew her too well. He couldn’t possibly believe the act she’d just performed.

  Alyssa braced her hands on the marble sinktop, hung her head, and drew in a deep breath. You know what you’re doing. It’s the only way. Arouse him to the point he doesn’t care about Brice.

  Throw fuel on an already burning wildfire.

  She inhaled again, lifted her head, and stared, unseeing, at her reflection, willing strength back into her spine. The way he’d looked at her moments ago…Another shiver drifted over her. This one took root in her womb and clamped it inward with longing.

  No way was she letting this backfire. It had been too long since she’d known the kind of pleasure Jayce was capable of. And oh, how she wanted to experience it again. Wanted to touch him, to indulge in the splendor and passion of everything he was. Yet she feared that passion as much as she craved it.

  With a shake of her head, she shook off apprehension and plucked her robe off the back of the door. She slid into the satin and belted it loosely. She’d started this. She would finish it, no matter how her insides tangled. This was the only way. With Brice at her side, grounding her so Jayce couldn’t shatter her to pieces.

  Drawing in one more breath of fortitude, she opened the door.

  * * *

  Jayce’s nostrils flared as the shaft of light from the bathroom door hit lit the dark hallway. Christ Almighty, if she walked out of there stark naked, he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions. The sight of her perfectly rounded ass had left him hard as hell. When he’d glimpsed the curve of her naked breast, it had taken every bit of self-control he possessed not to follow her into the bathroom.

  Making things worse, he knew this was a game. A deliberate act on her part, designed to render him powerless. And for the love of all things sacred, she was winning.

  Her silhouette stamped out the light for a heartbeat. His fingers curled into the couch cushions. Warily, he glanced to his right, where McTavish rummaged through a liquor cabinet, his back to Jayce. Had he seen the silent message behind Alyssa’s stare? The invitation she extended without words?

  Damn McTavish’s naivety! Why did it have to be him Alyssa was living with?

  Alyssa entered the room, and Jayce’s lungs cinched into narrow straws. The robe she wore accentuated her sloping curves, and its short hem highlighted legs that could bring a man to his knees. She walked, head down, picking at one fingernail, not bothering to make eye-contact with him. For a moment, Jayce questioned what he thought he understood. Maybe her undressing had been completely natural. Maybe he had mistakenly created more to this than she intended.

  He shook his head. No, he hadn’t imagined the heat that burned in her eyes. Hadn’t fabricated the way she’d come alive in his hands earlier this afternoon.

  “Rum and coke?” McTavish interrupted Jayce’s thoughts.

  Jayce shifted position, turning to look at him. It was there—the touch of sadness he’d anticipated, and that silent grief jabbed a fist into Jayce’s gut. McTavish knew. Didn’t like it, but he understood on some level. What level that was, Jayce couldn’t say.

  “No, thanks. I’ll stick to beer.”

  McTavish gestured at Jayce’s bottle. “Want another?”

  He should say no. He should drag himself to his feet and walk out the door, like he’d started to do until Alyssa fogged his brain with a flash of bare skin. Instead, he heard his voice echo hollowly. “Yeah.”

  He drew in a sharp breath, forced the sound of Alyssa puttering around the kitchen from his mind, and pushed his thoughts into line. He would not dick McTavish.

  We have an arrangement…

  Or not. Fuck. Maybe Alyssa had been telling him the truth all along. No matter how he resented the idea that she wanted McTavish along for the ride, that possibility put things in a whole new light.

  A cold beer appeared beneath his nose. Jayce took it, chugged several swallows, and braved McTavish’s gaze once again. No trace of sorrow lingered. Nothing but McTavish’s usual, devil-may-care grin.

  “Sorry, if that made you uncomfortable.” He gestured at the kitchen entry. “She’s…different, Jayce.”

  Apprehension gripped Jayce. He cocked a wary eyebrow, not wanting to ask for an explanation. Craving one all the same.

  “You haven’t asked what I’m doing with her.”

  Nope, and he damn sure didn’t intend to touch that conversation with a thirty-foot-long pole. Jayce took another swig.

  McTavish sat on the edge of the opposing chair and dangled his drink between his knees. “She came back to town, and we got to talking one night. I didn’t intend—”

  Jayce held up a hand. He forced a casual tone, despite the roiling of his stomach. “None of my business, man.”

  Letting out a hard, drawn-out breath, McTavish frowned. Slowly, he nodded. Then, just as slowly, he shook his head. “No, fuck that. We need to have a chat.”

  Unable to hold in a groan, Jayce sagged against the back of the couc
h. “Really, we don’t. I get it. She belongs to you. You don’t need to mark your territory.”

  “No.” McTavish continued to shake his head, his voice strangely flat and calm. “You don’t get it. Alyssa doesn’t belong to me. But unless you’ve got some sort of miracle up your sleeve, she’ll never be exclusively yours either. We’re partners in many things.” His blue eyes leveled on Jayce, heavy with silent meaning.

  Jayce blinked. Holy shit! She hadn’t been feeding him bull. He opened his mouth to voice questions he couldn’t quite form, then snapped it shut. Clearing his throat, he tried again. He needed to be sure. Needed to be absolutely certain McTavish had said what Jayce thought he’d heard.

  “Are you telling me—”

  Those blue eyes hardened a degree more. “I’m saying exactly what you think I am. You want her?” He shrugged a shoulder. “She won’t go without me.”

  A frown pulled at Jayce’s brow. Inside, the rebel teen jumped up yelling, demanding to answer the unspoken challenge McTavish had inadvertently voiced. He choked the gut-reaction down and pretended to examine the label on his bottle. Could he convince her otherwise? Could he get her to remember what they’d been like together and let go of McTavish for just one night?

  Did he want to go down that road again? Let her in, as much as he demanded the same from her? Perhaps discover answers…

  Before he could find an appropriate response to McTavish’s statement, Alyssa ducked into the room. “About five minutes, guys.” She flashed them both a smile and disappeared once more.

  The momentary interruption soothed Jayce’s agitated emotions. Cold, realistic logic that he’d honed during his years as an emotionless Black Opal slid into place. He gave McTavish a short nod. “That’s not a game I want to play.” A smirk formed on his mouth, and he chuckled. In mock toast, he lifted his beer. “No offense, man. I’m sure beneath those fancy dress clothes you’re hot as hell.”

  The joke lightened the mood, and McTavish joined him in laughter. But despite his hearty chuckles, down deep inside, anguish pried at Jayce’s heart. The only woman who’d ever mattered a single damn shared everything with another man. It was clear Jayce no longer held a place in her life.

  N i n e

  Brice twirled a forkful of spaghetti against his plate then leaned over to take the bite. His gaze latched onto Alyssa as she laughed, her eyes only for Jayce. Sorrow pulled tight chains around his ribs. Not because her heart belonged to Jayce Honeycutt—no, it always had been his. But because she was too caught up in a nightmare she couldn’t let go of to run after the one thing she had never stopped wanting.

  Hell, the two of them were so into each other, they’d hardly spoken two words to him. And as for the chemistry arcing between them—a blind man could have carved it into an exquisite sculpture with a butter knife. The heat flaring between Alyssa and Jayce was enough to make Brice’s cock rise to attention.

  He set his fork down, his plate now empty, and picked up his drink. The only thing that made him remotely uncomfortable was the undeniable fact that, despite everything separating them, Alyssa was and always had been Jayce’s girl. It felt somehow wrong to be a party to what would, inevitably, happen tonight.

  And yet…he couldn’t turn his back on Alyssa.

  Sliding his chair back, he scooped up his plate and rose. “I’ll meet you guys in the family room when you’re finished.”

  Alyssa turned wide, brown eyes on him, a touch of shame registering in the pinkening of her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Brice. We were just reminiscing.”

  He chuckled and flashed a smile he hoped would soothe. “You’re fine. I’m just finished.” He indicated his empty plate by lifting it a fraction. “Finish up.” His gaze shifted to Jayce. “If you’re up to it, I’ll pop in a movie.”

  Jayce nodded, but the hungry glint in his eyes indicated a movie was the last thing on his mind. A look Brice knew by heart; it had always crept in when his best friend spent more than twenty minutes around Alyssa.

  Chuckling to himself, Brice left the pair alone and retreated into the kitchen where he rinsed his plate and tucked it into the dishwasher. As he straightened, he looked out the window into their manicured back lawn. The moon rose on the horizon, filtering light between thick, overhanging tree limbs. A car’s red taillights glinted beyond the boundary bushes as it eased down the winding street. He could just make out the song of crickets over the purr of the passing engine.

  Pity that Alyssa had vetoed the gazebo he’d suggested putting in last year. Tonight would be the perfect night to enjoy the mountain breeze. But she’d said there were too many trees, she’d never use it, and he couldn’t fault her fears.

  As he turned away, he caught the movement of a shadow in the corner of his eye. Alarm bristled through him. He tensed, slowly turned back to the window. Squinting, he scoured the deep shadows that loomed across the lawn.

  He was certain he’d seen something move.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he checked to insure Alyssa and Jayce were too occupied to notice him, and then moved to the back door. Annoyance flicked down his spine. He’d had about enough of this. Enough of the threats, enough of the scare tactics.

  Brice unlocked the door and stepped outside, not bothering to flip on the floodlight. He took care to make sure the screen didn’t clang behind him, then crossed the patio, head cocked, examining the trees.

  From the far corner of the lawn, the chain link fence rattled.

  Son of a bitch! The assholes were back. He’d heard them out here last night. And he knew why they were here. If Toledo didn’t show up to pick up his goddamned file, Brice was so out of this deal.

  He clenched a fist, knowing it was futile to chase after the noise. Whoever had been here was long gone. They’d be back—no question about that.

  Which made it that much more of a damn good thing Jayce had shown up when he did. Brice no longer trusted his own safety, nor the word of the man he’d spoken with on the phone. And if something happened to him, Jayce could keep Alyssa safe. Jayce would give his life to protect her, Brice had no doubt.

  “Where the fuck are you?” he murmured under his breath, wishing for all his worth, that he’d never agreed to cooperate with the man named Toledo, who evidently had no past.

  Three more days. Brice drew in a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. Three days, and if things went as planned, this would be over before Alyssa became part of it. She didn’t need to be involved. He’d told Toledo that from the start.

  * * *

  Jayce stared after Alyssa for a good five full minutes after she excused herself from the table and returned to the kitchen. The sound of running water and clattering dishes filled his ears. Dinner had been hell. Not to mention McTavish’s awkward departure. But Alyssa had walked into the room, dressed only in that damnably short satin robe, and he’d been deaf and blind to everything but her.

  Sitting across from her, watching the way the satin gaped when she bent over her plate, glimpsing tidbit after tidbit of her full, soft breasts… She’d dropped her game somewhere between filling their plates and taking her first bite. What came after was all Alyssa, all natural, and captivating beyond comprehension.

  He wanted her like fire wanted oxygen.

  It was the sharing her part that gave him trouble. If she had been any other woman, he’d have already fucked her, McTavish or no McTavish. But she wasn’t, and he wanted her all to himself.

  Annoyed by his ridiculous hesitation, Jayce shoved away from the table and turned to take his plate to the kitchen. Damn it all, he was acting like a stupid school boy. It shouldn’t make a difference. Sex was sex. Alyssa had extended the invitation to pleasure, not asked him to settle into a ménage á marriage.

  Jayce came to a halt in the doorway as his gaze locked onto her. Standing at the sink, the most domestic way he could have ever pictured her, she scrubbed at a pot. For an instant, his mind flashed back to the dreams they’d created, the plans they’d made. Alyssa and he, a home, a family.


  Only he’d never quite expected her to look so goddamn enticing while standing in front of the sink.

  His gaze traversed down the length of her spine, over the perfect rise of her ass, down muscular legs that threatened to steal the air from his lungs. Behind the confines of his jeans, his half-swollen cock stiffened more. Under that captivating, dark blue satin, she was naked. He didn’t need to pull on the belt to know; the lack of a line where her thong would fit made it perfectly obvious.

  Naked. She’d been aroused at dinner. Aroused. Wet.

  His entire body tightened as he fought back the fierce pull of desire. No, he was not giving in. Not until Alyssa was willing to accept just him.

  Gathering his resolve, he crossed the kitchen and stepped into the corner at her left, passing her the plate. She took it out of his hands with a smile. “Thanks.”

  Keep it casual. Put her at ease. “That was the best dinner I’ve had in a long time.”

  Alyssa chuckled as she rinsed the stoneware. “It’s just spaghetti. Nothing special.”

  He shrugged. “I know how to appreciate it when a woman cooks. It’s a rare treat.”

  “Don’t get much of that, huh?” Grinning, she glanced over her shoulder.

  “Kinda hard when you’re on the road all the time.” Kinda hard when on the road meant undercover. Getting involved didn’t fit his line of work. But those truths, Alyssa would never know.

  She fitted the plate into the dishwasher and turned off the faucet. “Surely you have downtime?” Pivoting, she leaned an elbow on the counter, cocked her hip, and studied him.

  A slow burn spread through Jayce. He wanted to touch. Wanted to demand answers…so he could tell her he wanted her. “Not really,” he murmured through a closing throat. When she looked at him like this, when those eyes probed beneath the surface and touched parts of him he hated to name, he couldn’t think straight.

  “I have dessert.” Her voice was low and unsteady.

  Jayce’s gaze fastened on the loosely tied belt at her waist. One tug. One lazy pull. “I know,” he whispered.