On his knees between her legs, he thrust again, gaining even more ground. Stretching her. Pushing her limits.
Then he started to move and she knew she hadn’t begun to test those limits.
The pace he set had her on the verge of flying apart but the hand he had on her shoulder tethered them together. He held her tight, calmed her down to the point she could sink into each sensation without being overwhelmed by them.
His cock scraped against her inner walls, already highly sensitized, and she felt it clear to her toes. Her sheath tightened around him as he groaned out her name. His hips continued to rock against her, his thighs smacking against her ass.
She was right on the edge of exploding, her body tight. She kept trying to close her legs, to close around him, but she couldn’t because of the restraints.
Behind her, Erik slowed, lowering his head until his forehead pressed against her back and she felt his breath against her skin.
“Christ, Jules. You’re making me crazy.”
“How do you think I feel? Move, Erik. Now.”
“I don’t want this to end.”
“Then don’t be an idiot and not call me later. But right now, you have to move.”
He moved and she felt him lay his cheek against her back. The one that was scarred so badly. She wanted to reach around and touch him, let him know that his scars really didn’t bother her but then he began to move again and she could do nothing except let him take her along with him.
His pace wasn’t as frantic now. He was more focused, more determined.
Going boneless beneath him, she wallowed in every sensation until she couldn’t hold back any longer.
She came, her body jerking against the restraints as she contracted around him.
Through the blood pounding in her ears, she heard him groan out her name. Felt his cock swell and jerk inside her.
He rode her through it, pushing her higher until she literally couldn’t process the feelings coursing through her.
When he finally stopped, he collapsed over her, surrounding her with his scent, his warmth.
Leaving her sated.
But knowing something…someone…was missing.
* * * * *
“I’m not going.”
Keegan barely recognized his own voice as he stared into the heights of the cathedral ceiling in his living room.
The room wasn’t spinning. At least, not yet, though he’d polished off almost an entire bottle of tequila since he’d gotten home.
Yes, he was drunk. No, he didn’t feel any better.
After he’d left the mixer—after he’d banged Jules up against a wall—he’d driven home with the single-minded purpose of getting falling-down drunk.
And forgetting what a prick he’d been.
Christ, he needed to apologize. He should’ve done it right away, should’ve made her listen. Instead, he’d let her go.
Had she gone to Erik’s? Was she there right now?
You could be there too if you weren’t such a dick.
But he didn’t think she’d want to see him again.
Why the hell would she? He’d upset her. He’d used her.
And now she probably thought he was a prick.
You are a prick.
He took another swallow, trying to drown out that voice in his head.
You should go over and see if she’s there. Apologize.
He snorted. “Yeah. Go spy. That’s real mature.”
But was it spying if Erik had told him to show up?
Even though he was mostly drunk—as opposed to being completely drunk and a sloppy mess sitting here unable to think at all—he knew why Erik wanted him there.
They worked well together. They always had. Together, they could handle Jules.
But do you want to handle her together?
That was the half-million-dollar question, now, wasn’t it?
They both wanted her. They’d both had her.
Now what?
He and Erik worked together. They owned a business together.
Throw a woman into the mix—No, throw Jules into the mix and things would get messy.
Not just messy. They’d get downright fucked up.
Things are already fucked up.
Alright, he seriously needed to drink more to drown out that asshole voice in his head.
But he didn’t want any more to drink.
He wanted to see Jules. He wanted to watch her while Erik fucked her then he wanted to join them and make her scream.
Shit.
He got up, catching the arm of couch before he fell back onto the cushions. Hell, maybe he should sleep this off. He wasn’t a mean drunk but he was a sappy one. If he went over there, he didn’t know what’d come out of his mouth.
Spying his phone on the sofa table, he grabbed it to text Erik. Ask what was going on.
And what if he doesn’t get back to you?
He needed to grow some fucking balls and go to Erik’s. The gravel lane that connected his house to Erik’s was mostly level and it wasn’t like he’d be stumbling along. The one-mile walk in thirty-degree weather would clear his head.
Grabbing his coat, he headed to the front door. He’d been smart enough to change out of his dress shoes and slacks when he’d gotten home, pulling on a pair of jeans instead. At the door, he pushed his feet into a pair of battered black Chucks then headed out.
The moon was no more than a sliver of silver in the sky, when he could actually get a glimpse of it through the clouds. There were no streetlights along the stretch but he wasn’t worried about wild animals or traffic. Occasionally, the nearby farmer’s cows got out of their grazing land and wandered onto Keegan’s property. But he didn’t think the small wooded area that straddled his and Erik’s land held anything more than deer, raccoons and skunks. And a shit-ton of squirrels and rabbits.
After growing up in large cities—first Dublin then Boston—he’d had culture shock moving here. It was too freaking quiet at night. No traffic noise, no sirens. And holy hell, it got dark.
He liked having his own space but being close enough to Erik that they could see each other in minutes. Watch a game together, eat dinner together, talk business. Some people thought they were too close. Those people were assholes who had no friends of their own and needed to get a life.
Fuck. He’d thought this walk would help but it was just giving him more time to screw himself up in the head.
And it was fucking cold.
He put his head down and trudged on.
Since this lane led to the back of Erik’s property, he couldn’t tell if Jules’ car was parked out front. He debated going out front to check then talked himself out of it.
If it was there, he might not go in.
Punching in the code to open the back door, he stepped into the mudroom off the kitchen. The only light he could see was the one over the sink. Erik left that one lit all the time. He didn’t like coming into a dark house.
Keegan paused, listening. Heard nothing.
He considered calling out but didn’t want to bother him—them—if they were…busy.
Walking to the front of the house, he didn’t see anyone.
But there, in the front window, he saw Jules’ car.
He sucked in a breath then forced himself to release it slowly.
If they weren’t down here then he knew where they were.
His body still felt the effects of the alcohol but his head had cleared.
Now what?
He had to know. Had to see with his own eyes.
He turned to the stairs to the second floor.
* * * * *
Jules didn’t know what prompted her to look at the open door.
Maybe she’d heard some small sound. More likely it was just a coincidence that her gaze happened to go there.
Erik had released her from the restraints but they hadn’t moved from the bed. He’d curled against her back, tucked her into his body and wrapped his arms around her.
>
Neither of them had caught their breath yet and she needed a shower.
She wanted to drift off to sleep and give her brain a rest but it just kept working. Thinking.
And then there was Keegan.
Standing in the shadows of the hall outside the bedroom room.
Staring at her.
She saw Keegan’s face perfectly in the glow from the hall light. And his expression made her breath catch in her throat.
Behind her, she felt Erik freeze and knew he saw Keegan, as well.
Their gazes met and held.
Just before Keegan turned and walked away.
Chapter Eleven
“Keegan! Stop!”
Keegan had known going to Erik’s house this late had been a mistake of immense stupidity.
He’d known Julianne was here. He’d seen her car parked out front.
And when he’d walked into the house and realized she and Erik weren’t anywhere to be found on the first floor, he should’ve left right fucking then.
But had he?
No, of course he hadn’t.
Shaking his head, Keegan bounced off the wall as he stumbled down the second-floor hall, away from Erik’s bedroom. His head throbbed with an ever-increasing headache and he lifted a hand to rub at his temples. Which only made it worse.
He needed his feet to move faster. He needed to be…somewhere else. Anywhere else.
“Christ, I knew this was a mistake. Shoulda stayed the fuck home.”
“God damn it. Keegan, don’t fucking make me run after you.”
Ignoring Erik’s voice, Keegan kept walking. He had to get to the front door, get out of the house. If he just kept walking, eventually he’d get away. He needed to get away.
“Keegan. Stop.”
His footsteps faltered. That wasn’t Erik.
His chest muscles contracted as if he’d taken a solid blow to the solar plexus. He sucked in a sharp breath then released it in a rush.
Damn it. Don’t stop now.
He took a few more steps, to the top of the stairs, then paused. Behind him, the floorboards creaked as someone walked up behind him. Tensing, he waited, waited…
The hand that fell on his shoulder was not Erik’s. It was small, delicate…and had the power to destroy him.
Get a grip, asshole.
Christ, he was one stupid bastard.
“Don’t go,” Jules said. “Not like this.”
He considered ignoring her, forcing his feet to continue down the stairs until he reached the door. From there, all he had to do was turn left. He didn’t have to worry about his car. He’d walked because he’d been too drunk to drive. Now he definitely wasn’t drunk enough.
The buzz that had allowed him to think coming here was a good idea in the first place had worn off the moment he’d seen Erik and Jules together in bed.
And you’re an utter fucking asshole because you were the one who fucked her up against a wall earlier tonight like an unfeeling asshole.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
The words falling out of his mouth sounded slurred, like he was still drunk. Which couldn’t be right because he felt stone-cold sober inside his own head.
“Then why are you?”
There was an edge to her voice that cut into him like a dull knife. And he deserved it. He totally deserved whatever she threw at him.
Christ, if she told him to get the hell out, it’d be only what he deserved.
Forcing himself to turn, he expected her to be pissed, almost expected a slap.
Instead, her dark gaze held worry. For him? He sucked in a breath. Why would she be worried about him?
She should want to hit him.
“I don’t know why I’m here.”
“Bullshit.” Her tone held only the slightest bit of anger and, again, he wanted to shake his head. Why the hell wasn’t she raging? Hell, he was pissed off at himself on her behalf.
So when he crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her, the edge in his voice came through. “Fine. Then tell me why I’m here, Jules. When I’m the last person you should want to see right now.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Erik put his back against the wall and let his head tilt back. From this angle, Keegan saw barely any of the scarring on Erik’s face. He looked like he had before the explosion. Before the damage to his face had made him a recluse.
Until the night they’d seen Jules for the first time. That night, she’d been dressed in the same, plain black-and-white catering uniform she’d been wearing earlier when he’d—
Damn it.
Now she wore Erik’s t-shirt and probably nothing else.
His gaze dropped to her bare legs, her feet planted wide. She’d crossed her arms under her breasts and through the thin cotton, he could see her nipples poking into the fabric.
Christ, just put a knife through his fucking heart already. He wanted to drop to his knees, put his arms around her waist and pull her against him.
Then he’d pull that shirt up around her waist and put his mouth—
No. There he went, thinking with his dick again. And that’s exactly what had gotten him into trouble already tonight.
His gaze lifted back to hers, narrowed and glittering. “Yes, I’m pissed at you, Keegan. But not for the reason you think.”
Confusion made his head swim but he refused to show it. The sooner he let her tell him off, the sooner he’d get out of here. Which was what he wanted.
Bullshit.
His chin lifted. “So tell me what I’m thinking and how I’m wrong. Am I thinking I should’ve called two weeks ago? Am I thinking I should’ve kept my damn dick in my pants tonight and talked to you instead of taking advantage of you?”
“Oh, please.” Her face screwed up in a frown, which he found hot as fucking hell. “If I hadn’t wanted you tonight, you would’ve had my knee in your balls.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Erik wince and run a hand through his hair. He hadn’t bothered to get it cut for a couple of months and he used the length as a screen to hide behind.
But Keegan had noticed he’d been doing less of it lately…since that first night with Jules. The night this had all started.
“Then why didn’t you? Why didn’t you knee me in the balls? I fucking deserved it.”
Her eye roll was worthy of an Oscar. “Jesus! How can you be so freaking dense and so insanely smart?” She actually stamped one bare foot, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is nothing to talk about. Maybe this is all just—”
“Stop. Just…stop.” Erik’s voice cut through the lust and the anger and the guilt raging in the air between Keegan and Jules. “You two need to figure this out on your own—”
“Oh no.” Jules turned and took a step back so she could see both of them, pinning Erik in place with a pointed index finger. “You don’t get to bug out on this. You’re right. We need to talk. All three of us. Right now.”
No one moved.
Keegan flashed Erik a look but Erik was staring at Jules. The lust on Erik’s face made Keegan’s guilt flare white-hot and he knew exactly what he had to do.
“Fine.” Keegan nodded at Jules. “You wanna do this? Let’s get it over with now.”
Jules sucked in a deep breath as Keegan turned and headed downstairs, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be in the study.”
For a second, she stood there, listening to his footsteps on the stairs. She found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to open the front door and leave.
She only released that breath when she heard him come to a stop somewhere in the front of the house. The floors in this old place announced every move you made. Which made it a miracle that Keegan had snuck up on them.
Then again, she hadn’t really been paying much attention to anything other than Erik.
God, she wanted to close her eyes and crawl into a hole but she’d gotten herself into this mess. Now she needed to dig her
self out.
Even though she had no idea what the hell she was going to do when she did.
Well, what do you want to do?
Good question. And no easy answer.
She wanted this entire mess to just go away. She wanted to return to the first night she’d met Erik and Keegan and enjoy that time again. That night had been…amazing. Special.
She’d thought it’d been a one-night-only event.
And then everything had gotten so screwed up.
“I assume you’d like to get dressed before you go downstairs.”
Erik’s quiet statement roused her from her muddled thoughts and she raised her head to look at him. His expression showed nothing but the stillness of his body said so much.
Her head began to throb and she just barely managed to keep herself from rubbing at her burning eyes.
“Yeah, I think that’s probably best.”
Although she didn’t kid herself that Erik or Keegan would have any uncontrollable urges to take her hard and fast again, even if she paraded around naked.
Then again, with these two… Who knew.
Hell, she was so screwed up right now, she didn’t think she’d say no.
And why would you?
Two hot guys wanted her. And she’d had them both at the same time.
It was the basis for thousands of romcoms—minus the sex, of course.
Yeah, but look how it’s turned out? Those stories usually have happy endings.
Okay, she really needed to stop talking to herself and talk to them.
Erik watched as she turned toward his bedroom. He’d pulled on his jeans only, his body bare from the waist up. Every time she saw those scars on his body, she wanted to run her fingers over them, stroke them so he didn’t think she was repulsed by them. She truly wasn’t.
And the scars on his face made her want to press kisses to them. She couldn’t make them all better, couldn’t heal him physically. But she could show him he was still desirable.
Yeah, you’re a real humanitarian.
With a shake of her head, she headed back to the bedroom. But just before she crossed the threshold, she stopped and turned. Erik hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. His very hungry eyes.
Grabbing the hem of his shirt, she pulled it over her head and tossed it to him. For several seconds, she stood there naked, totally gratified to see the hunger turn to absolute lust. And to see the physical evidence in the growing bulge behind his zipper.
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