by Dee Carney
She looked Grace up and down and then dismissed her as a serious threat. “What are you guys doing tonight?” she purred, thrusting her breasts forward as if the mere sight of her big tits bursting out of her too-tight top would make him come to his senses and fall madly in love with her.
“We’re having a few drinks together.”
“That’s cool,” she said, looking around for an extra chair. Mercifully, they’d given their extra seats to a large group at the next table.
“Well, it was good to see you again, Carmen. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.” Jamie’s dismissal was curt and he silently prayed it would be enough because if she persisted on hanging around, they’d have to leave. After the kiss he’d just shared with Grace, he’d rather cut off his left nut than cut this evening short.
Carmen hovered by the table for a moment until Trey and Grace both added their good-byes, then she left.
“Damn, man,” Trey said. “Quick thinking on that kiss. Well done.”
He nodded, though he was still fuming over Carmen’s insult. He glanced at Grace. “I’m sorry she was so rude to you.”
Grace reached over and grasped his hand. “That’s not your apology to make. Besides, I think we’ve already discussed her lack of intelligence.”
Trey laughed, but Jamie continued speaking. “With any luck, that will be the last time I have to deal with her.”
Grace squeezed his hand. “Oh, I think you made your point. You’ve tried to break things off with her gently at least a dozen times, Jamie. Sometimes, you just have to be less subtle, more direct.”
“That kiss was pretty fucking direct,” Trey said.
Grace looked at him and smiled. “Have to admit I didn’t mind pretending to be your girlfriend for a few minutes. Wow.”
“Few minutes? Felt like you were swallowing each other’s tonsils for hours.”
“Shut up, Trey,” Jamie said with a grin, pleased by Grace’s compliment.
“You know, Grace, I think I see an old stalker girlfriend of mine over there. Mind giving me one of those kisses?” Trey asked.
Grace shook her head. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do tonight than harass this old woman?”
“Carmen’s a fucking idiot. I don’t see any old women at this table,” Jamie said, hating for her to feel the sting of the insensitive woman’s words.
“Maybe not, but I still don’t get why you two are here. Despite my fears of pumping up your already overinflated egos, you’re both totally hot. Why are you sitting here with me tonight rather than going out on dates? Getting laid?”
Jamie shrugged. “Spending the night with you is a hell of a lot more fun than spending all our money, buying drinks and trying to get into the pants of some stranger.”
“We’d rather buy drinks and try to get into your pants,” Trey teased. The image of the three of them in bed together floated through Jamie’s mind and he silently cursed the denim cutting into his rock-hard cock as he was reminded of Trey’s proposition.
“Ha ha. God. I can’t tell you how glad I am I’m not still out there, trying to maneuver my way around the dating scene.” Grace picked up the pitcher and freshened up all their drinks, clearly dismissing their come-ons as harmless teasing. When Jamie considered how often they’d made sexual jokes in the past, he could understand.
“Why aren’t you out there, Grace?” Trey asked. “You’re single, hot, young.”
Grace looked as if she wanted to refute his friend’s words and Jamie felt something inside snap. “And before you call Trey a liar, you might want to consider the consequences.”
Grace and Trey both turned to him, astonished by his sharp tone.
“Consequences?” Grace asked.
“Everything Trey said is true. I’m sick of hearing you put yourself down, angel.”
“I don’t put myself down,” she argued.
“Tell me you weren’t about to tell Trey he needed to get glasses, that you’re old, past your prime or some other stupid shit like that.”
She closed her mouth and he could see he’d hit the nail on the head. His eyes narrowed. “Say anything else like that again tonight—or any night for that matter—and I’ll be forced to punish you.”
His words provoked a nervous laugh from her and he could see Trey’s scowl from the corner of his eyes.
“And just how would you punish me?”
She stressed the wrong words and Jamie felt his hibernating grizzly bear begin to wake. “I’d pull down those skin-tight jeans of yours, lay you out and bring you to orgasm with just my hand. Over and over.”
Grace flushed and he could see in her eyes she was struggling like mad to read in his face whether he was joking or not. He made sure she saw the veracity of his words. This was no joke.
“I’m pretty sure that’s physically impossible.” Leave it to Grace to find her footing quickly. She took the middle ground, not giving away anything and once more, he was left to try to decide if she was interested or horrified by his comments. Damn woman never made anything easy.
Fuck it. He was going to lay it all out for her tonight. He was tired of holding back because of their age difference, because of Maddie, out of respect for her dead husband, because he was afraid of rejection or losing her friendship. All his excuses faded away as he looked at her lovely face.
“Clearly you’ve never been finger-fucked. I’d have you begging for my cock in minutes,” he replied, leaning closer to her.
She flushed as he added the last statement, but her suddenly shallow breathing and the turgid nipples poking through her blouse answered the most pressing question in his mind. He didn’t have to wonder about her sexual interest in him anymore. Her body was screaming Yes! loud and clear. Now he needed to clear the hurdle of her mind.
Trey’s voice broke the silence surrounding them. “You two do realize I’m sitting here and can hear everything you’re saying, right?”
Grace laughed, but it had a breathless quality that sent a fresh surge of blood to Jamie’s cock as he imagined that sound in his bed as he came into her body. “I hope you’re driving tonight, Trey. I think maybe Jamie is a little drunk.”
Jamie reached down and pulled her chair roughly toward his until she was sitting between his outstretched legs. “You had to go there, didn’t you? You couldn’t help yourself. It’s easier to make a joke than admit to yourself that there’s a guy sitting at this table who wants to fuck himself to death inside you.”
Jamie saw Trey move his chair closer to Grace and as he looked away from her astonished face, he saw his friend’s hands resting on Grace’s waist.
“Two guys,” Trey added. “There are two guys who want you, Gracie.”
Grace looked from him to Trey and he could see her mind fighting to process what they were saying. “This is a joke.” The words were weak, almost a question. Hell, he thought they sounded like a plea.
He shook his head. “I’ve wanted you for years, Grace.”
Trey bent forward and as Jamie watched, his friend pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck. Grace’s eyes drifted shut and he grasped her hands when they began to shake. “Open your eyes and look at me,” Jamie said.
She opened them, looked at him, her gaze full of questions and if he wasn’t mistaken, lust. “How long has it been?” Jamie whispered.
“Too long,” she replied breathlessly.
He suspected—hell, he knew—she hadn’t been with anyone since her husband’s death. They were good enough friends she would have told him if there’d been another man since then.
“Come home with us,” Jamie said, his heart pounding as he spoke the words, the realization of what he was asking dawning hard. He was inviting Grace and Trey to his bed.
Trey’s lips still lingered by her ear and he heard his friend whisper, “Please, Grace. Just tonight. One night.”
She shuddered and Jamie tightened his grip on her hands. For Trey, it would be one night, but Jamie was hoping for much, much longer.
> Grace took a deep breath and Jamie sensed her struggle to recover her wits. “I feel like we should talk about this. There needs to be some conversation, some discussion.”
Jamie cut her off. “Do you want to sleep with us?”
“God, yes.”
“Discussion over. Let’s pay the tab and get out of here.”
Taking turns was never their strong suit…
What She Needs
© 2011 Anne Rainey
Cape May, Book 3
Devon Mason and Con Walker are sexy, honorable, loving, and completely devoted. In other words, everything Tory looks for in a relationship. But what’s she supposed to buy her two lovers on V Day? Chocolate? How average is that? Their little love triangle is anything but average!
When Con surprises her with a weekend in Cancun, just the three of them, Tory is all over it—until she realizes Con forgot to include Devon in the package. Now their little love triangle is suffering, thanks to a couple of hard-headed men who both want to be numero uno.
Con was content to let Devon take control at Christmas, but now it’s his turn. A weekend in Cancun seems the perfect place for a romantic getaway—then Devon says he’s planning to surprise Tory with a trip to Aruba, and Con’s possessive instincts kick in. He’d always been happy to share Tory with the guy he cares for like a brother. But the deeper Con falls in love, the harder it is to keep from ripping Tory away from Devon.
Sooner or later something—or someone—is going to give.
Warning: This title contains lots of steamy, explicit sex. Hot, jealous men in need of a strong, intelligent woman. And a warm, loving ménage a trois relationship.
Enjoy the following excerpt for What She Needs:
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Con looked up from his desk to see Devon striding into the room. By the looks of him, he was good and pissed. Damn. Con had known this was coming and he’d dreaded it. “If you’re here to bitch at me, then get to it. I’m busy.”
Devon crossed the room until he stood on the other side of the desk, fists clenched at his sides. “Bitch at you? You upset Tory, Con. You booked Cancun without talking to me. And unless I’m mistaken, you looked ready to land a fist in my face this morning when you came out of the bathroom. So, I repeat, what the hell is wrong?”
Con scrubbed his hands over his face. He was frustrated with Devon and pissed at himself for being a complete ass. The hell of it was, Devon had it right. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dev.”
“Don’t give me the same bullshit you fed Tory this morning. I know you. You were jealous when you saw the two of us together on the bed. What I want to know is, why?”
Con stared back at his friend, his best friend. They’d been through some serious shit together. They’d both grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, but they’d worked their asses off and it’d paid off. They were successful and in love. What could be better? To have Tory all for myself. No, that wasn’t right. What Devon and Con had with Tory was good. It was whole. Wasn’t it?
Shoving that nagging question aside, Con said, “You’re right. I was jealous. I’ll deal with it.”
Devon frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Will you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks as if you’d be as happy as a fucking clam if I were out of the picture.” Devon planted his hands on the desk and leaned close. “I love Tory as much as you. I’m not letting her go.”
For a moment, Con was too shocked to speak. He could count on one hand the amount of times Devon had gotten up in his face about something. Hell, the man was always so friggin’ calm it bordered on annoying. “Christ, relax, will you? I never asked you to do anything. It was just a momentary lapse. I’m over it.”
Devon pushed away from the desk and took two steps backward. “You’re over it, huh? Then you won’t mind if I surprise Tory with a trip to Aruba for Valentine’s Day?”
Every muscle in Con’s body tensed. “What did you say?”
“The three of us in Aruba. I’m thinking of booking the trip today. In fact, maybe you should go ahead and cancel the trip to Cancun. Or go alone. Take your pick.”
Con shot to his feet and moved around the desk, a red haze of anger flooding his brain. “I already told you and Tory this morning. The flight is booked. The room is reserved. We’re going to Cancun.”
“And I told you it wasn’t your call alone to make. Tory isn’t yours. She’s ours. Get that through your thick skull.”
“So, what, now we’re going to make her choose between your trip and mine? That’s juvenile, damn it!”
“All I know is that I’m damn tired of seeing that look on your face when it comes to her.”
Con threw up his hands and shouted, “What look?”
“You want her for yourself. It’s so obvious it’s not even funny.”
Jesus, he really was transparent. “I never said that,” he hedged.
Devon pointed a finger at him. “You want me away from her,” he ground out. “Admit it, God damn you!”
Fury had Con speaking without thinking. “Fine! I want her for myself! I see you with her, and my blood boils. I see her touching you and it makes me want to hit something. Are you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”
Devon shook his head. “No, Con, I’m not happy.”
Con cursed. He’d seen that look on his friend’s face only once before. They’d been nineteen, working dead-end jobs and trying to make ends meet. Con had come home to their shit apartment in a bad mood one night. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what had set it off. He’d taken it out on Devon, though. The final straw had been when Con had punched him in the face. He’d broken Devon’s nose. Devon had looked hurt—and not just physically.
“Look, man, I’m sorry,” Con muttered. “I’ll get my shit together, I promise.”
Devon didn’t look convinced. “You know this can’t work if we’re not both in it one hundred percent, right?”
Con shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. He was wrecking everything. Con Walker, always the screw-up. “I know, I know.”
“So, maybe we should do like we did at Christmas.”
Con stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“We leave the decision to Tory.”
“You really want her to choose between us? That’s not fair to Tory, and you know it.”
Devon shook his head and looked down at the floor. Con found himself holding his breath. When Devon’s gaze came back up to meet his, he could swear his eyes were a little too bright, a little too watery. “I’m not trying to get all sappy here.”
“But?”
“I care about you. Like a brother. That will never change.”
“Same here, Dev.” Con stepped forward, a sense of foreboding skating down his spine. Devon put up a hand in warning, effectively stopping Con in his tracks.
“I know you, Con. You aren’t going to get over this.” Con started to argue, but Devon rode right over him. “You want Tory and you want me gone. I can’t walk away. I can’t give her up—not unless it’s what she wants.”
How had things gone from great to shit so damn fast? This was a new record for him. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Then we need to figure out a way to make this work. For all of us.”
Con had racked his brain trying to think of some way to get over his growing possessiveness toward Tory—and he’d come up blank. “Got any suggestions? Because I’m fresh out of ideas here.”
Devon quirked a brow. “Actually, I do have a suggestion.”
For the first time in weeks, Con felt a spark of hope. “I’m all ears. Spill.”
“Not yet.”
“What the hell do you mean, not yet?” Con cursed under his breath. “My life is spinning out of control and you want to play twenty questions?”
“I’ll tell you and Tory at the same time. She should be kept in the loop here. We can’t make decisions like this without her.”
“C
hrist. Just give me a clue here. I’m drowning.”
“No, you can wait and hear my idea when Tory gets home. But, I can tell you that I’m not going to book the trip to Aruba.”
When Devon turned to leave, Con had the sinking feeling he’d lost something. Something he might never get back. “Devon,” Con called out.
Without turning around, Devon asked, “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Devon mumbled. Without another word, he left.
Con wasn’t sure how long he stood in the middle of the room, staring at the empty doorway. When he heard the front door open and close, it pulled him out of his misery. He crossed the room and sat in the brown leather couch adjacent to the desk. Was he really going to have to choose between the woman he loved and his best friend? No. Devon had figured something out. Whatever it was it would be a solution that would benefit all three of them. Devon was good at fixing things. Con was good at fucking up.
When they’d hatched their little plan to finally make Tory their own, it’d seemed so perfect. They’d both wanted her. Both knew, even then, that they were in love with her. At first it’d been bliss. Making love to her, sharing their nights wrapped around her. Waking up with her nestled between them. Even her snoring made him smile. There had been a few bumps in the road, but nothing big, nothing life-altering.
He wasn’t even sure when the first spark of jealousy had appeared. Not that it mattered, because it was a full-on blaze now. The only question left unanswered: Could he really choose between the love of his life and his best friend?