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Down & Dirty-epub Page 20

by Rhian Cahill


  Chapter Five

  Chelsea cast an anxious eye at the front door, wondering if she had the nerve to get out of her car and ring the bell. She was a mess. A confused, aroused, hormonal mess, and she had been for the last two days.

  Had forty-eight hours ever gone by so slowly before? The time since Spencer had methodically cleaned up, pulled on his clothes in her office and packed away his computer had dragged on.

  He hadn’t ignored her exactly. No, he’d taken the time to explain the forms were almost complete and he’d get them finished and sent off to the tax man, ASAP.

  He’d kept his word, emailing her the next day to say the forms had been submitted. But that was all he’d said the entire time.

  He hadn’t responded at all when she’d finally found the wherewithal to speak about Levi. He also hadn’t stayed for the dinner she’d prepared for him, which was ridiculous really, because the meal could well have been Chelsea’s best accomplishment ever.

  Could have been, but she’d never know, since her appetite had died the second Spencer’s back had stiffened when she’d brought up Levi’s name. Her lunch customers, however, had thoroughly enjoyed the lamb, rosemary and mint pie special the next day.

  See? She was a mess. She couldn’t even keep her mind focused on one idea. Her thoughts bounced around like tennis balls—and mostly came to rest on Levi, Spencer or both of them.

  She hadn’t heard from Levi either, but then what had she expected? She’d kissed one and told him she wanted the other, then fucked the other, and told him she wanted his best friend.

  What else could she have done? Lying hadn’t been an option. Honesty had always been her best policy. Her only policy.

  Any woman in her right mind would quit while she was ahead. She’d appreciate that she’d had the opportunity to taste Levi’s tantalizing kisses, and she’d relish the memory of Spencer’s gifted mouth and body—and the three or four thousand orgasms he’d given her. Then she’d assign it all to her past and move on.

  But not Chelsea. Oh no. She had to go and obsess about the men she’d desired for a year, had for a day and then, quite devastatingly, lost forever.

  She stared hard at the front door.

  Or had she lost them?

  For the gazillionth time, she questioned whether she should have handled things differently. Should she have said no to Spencer’s offer to help? Refused to run with Levi?

  Should she have said yes to one man and no to the other? And if so, which one should she have refused?

  That last question was the one that continued to stump her. Which one should she have refused?

  Neither, that’s which.

  She couldn’t, in a million years, have picked one over the other. Yes, things had progressed a lot faster—and a lot further—with Spencer than with Levi, but only because their time together had been a lot more private. If she’d had the same time alone with Levi, Chelsea had no doubt she’d have gotten as naked with him as she had with Spencer.

  Truth be told, she regretted not having the opportunity to get naked with Levi. The only thing she now regretted more was that she’d blown her chance with both of them.

  Not that having a chance with both of them was even a remote possibility.

  Chelsea pulled on her hair in frustration.

  Tempting as it might be to spend half her time with Spencer and the other half with Levi, it wasn’t practical. Not for the men anyway. She might love the idea, but no man in his right mind would ever agree to an arrangement that left Chelsea happy all the time and each of them satisfied only part of the time.

  Add the whole best-friends issue to the already bubbling pot of confusion, and Chelsea was slap bang in the middle of an impossible situation.

  And damned if it didn’t make her want to weep. Now that she’d gotten to spend intimate time with both men, she only wanted more time with them. Lots and lots more time.

  She silently gave thanks to Belinda and Kainano, who, between the two of them, had ensured Chelsea’s mood and preoccupation did not interfere with the smooth running of the restaurant. Belinda’s professionalism and brilliant customer skills and Kainano’s abilities in the kitchen also meant she could sit here now, parked outside Levi’s home and stare longingly at the door.

  Under ordinary circumstances, she’d never have come here. But the note that had been left for her at Chelsea’s proved there was nothing normal about these circumstances.

  Alongside the address had been the words:

  We’ll be here, whatever time you leave the restaurant tonight.

  L & S

  She would have gone immediately had she not owned the restaurant. Facing up to her responsibilities, she’d forced herself to spend at least an hour at Chelsea’s before finally escaping. In that time, she’d called a customer by the wrong name, delivered table three’s food to table nine and mishandled a bottle of Chardonnay, ensuring that wine and glass smashed to the ground, splattering along the length and breadth of the bar floor.

  Belinda, bless her, had subtly suggested Chelsea leave before she accidentally burned down the kitchen.

  With her hands trembling, her cheeks on fire and the note burning a hole in her palm, she’d hightailed it to Double Bay—where Levi lived. But that didn’t mean she was ready to get out of the car.

  She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get out of the car.

  How could she walk up the front path, knock on the door and face not one but two men she wanted? What if they laughed at her? Or sat her down and explained that no woman would ever come between their friendship? What if they kindly but politely told her she was out of her mind and her league, and requested she never speak to either of them again?

  It would destroy her.

  On the other hand, how could she not walk up the path?

  Levi and Spencer waited inside. And God help her, for every fear that haunted her, a million hormones urged her on.

  Putting on her bravest face, Chelsea opened the car door.

  She could deal with this. She could accept whatever they said to her. She was a grown woman, for heaven sake, and had dealt with dozens of men in her time. Whatever they threw at her, she’d accept with grace. It would be impossibly difficult to say goodbye. Even harder to give up on the fantasies that had kept her company for the last year, but she’d have no choice.

  She was strong. She could do this.

  It didn’t stop her hand from shaking so hard she had trouble ringing the bell.

  Levi answered, looking delicious. Barefoot, he wore a sky-blue T-shirt that clung to his beautiful shoulders and did amazing things to his eyes, and denim shorts she could only assume had once been full-length jeans. They were faded to white in some patches and ended just above the knee in frayed stringy bits.

  “Chels,” was his casual greeting.

  “Levi.” She nodded in return and hoped he couldn’t hear the deafening roar of her heart.

  “You came.”

  She handed him the note. “I was summoned.”

  His lips twitched. “Invited as opposed to summoned.”

  “Okay then. I was invited. Do I get to come inside, or are we going to chat on the doorstep?”

  Levi leaned one gorgeous shoulder against the door frame. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether I get a hello kiss or not.”

  Her eyebrows about hit her hairline. “You want a kiss from me?”

  “You want to come inside?”

  Chelsea thought she might faint. From both the shock of his suggestion and the need to carry it through. “I don’t know, Levi. Do I?”

  “Give me kiss, and then you can decide.”

  Completely out of her depth and at a loss for what to do next, Chelsea followed her heart and stepped closer. In her running shoes, she’d been several inches shorter than Levi. Now they stood at the same height, thanks to her heels.

  She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

  He hadn’t shaved, and his five o’c
lock shadow rasped against her lips, making her pussy clench. Was there anything sexier or more masculine than an unshaven cheek?

  Levi shook his head in mock horror. “Call that a kiss?”

  “What would you call it?” How she managed to hold a conversation was beyond her.

  “An insignificant peck on the cheek. This...is a kiss.”

  Levi wrapped her in his arms, molded his lips to hers and laid claim to her mouth with his tongue.

  Chelsea melted into a puddle of goo where she stood. Her knees wobbled, her heart raced and goose bumps rose over her arms. As for her clenching pussy…it almost had an orgasm on his front doorstep.

  He released her long moments later, leaving her breathless and unsteady.

  “See?” he asked with his trademark easy grin. Only the heat in his eyes belied his casual tone. “Peck versus kiss. Big difference.”

  Partly because she couldn’t resist and partly to prove a point, she ground her hips against his, pressing herself close to his straining erection. “Big being the key word here.” At least he wanted her. Whatever else he might be thinking, his body told her in no uncertain terms the passion that had flared between them the other morning was still there—as bright and breathtaking as it had been at Centennial Park.

  “And getting bigger every second,” he muttered. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

  She stepped back. “On your front doorstep? For all your neighbors to see? I don’t think so.”

  “Then you’ve answered your earlier question. Come on inside.”

  He stepped aside to let her in. Well, he kind of stepped aside. More like he angled his body, giving her just enough space to squeeze past him, ensuring every inch of one side of her body touched every inch of one side of his.

  She was an aroused mess by the time she made it into the house. The hand that landed on her lower back, just above her ass, didn’t help matters at all.

  “Straight ahead and to the right.”

  With the way his palm burned through her dress as he guided her, she may as well have been naked. And when she stepped into his lounge room, that feeling of exposure only increased. Especially as the first thing she saw was Spencer, sitting on the couch watching her approach.

  His gaze burned as hot as Levi’s hand, stripping away her defenses.

  Oh, she was in so much trouble.

  Chelsea would have come to a stop just inside the room, but Levi urged her across the floor, all the way to Spencer’s couch.

  “Evening, Chelsea.” Spencer’s voice was a deep rumble. “You’re looking lovely as usual.”

  So formal? She nodded at him. “Good evening, accountant man.”

  A wave of unreasonable irritation swept over her, making her skin itch. He’d fucked her into submission two short nights ago, and here he was reverting right back to being the guy with a stiff upper lip who kept his tie on for every occasion—including visits to the beach.

  To be fair, he had no tie on now. And the top two buttons of his work shirt were undone, exposing a V of tanned flesh and enticing chest hair. The glimpse of skin made her mouth water, which only increased her annoyance.

  She glanced around the room. “What? No briefcase tonight?”

  “No need for it.” His eyes flashed, though with humor or something else, she couldn’t tell. “I’m not planning on utilizing my bookkeeping talents until tomorrow morning.”

  He didn’t mention not utilizing his other talents. And he had many other talents. Many. “So what are you planning for tonight?”

  Spencer held his hand out to her as Levi took a seat on the same couch, leaving a small space between them. “Sit here, between us, and Levi and I can tell you all about it.”

  She eyed the hand warily and her sixth sense jumped to hyper-alert status. Something was up, something Chelsea had no idea how to handle. It made the back of her neck prickle. Not in an uncomfortable way. The sensation was…curious.

  “Take my hand, Chelsea.” And there it was. The same commanding tone of voice Spencer had used with her the other night. The one that sent shivers down her spine and her desire into overdrive.

  She took his hand.

  Awareness streaked through her, and the adrenaline that only hit when Spencer touched her shot straight through her heart. She stared at him with wide eyes.

  His gaze was fixed on her, his dark eyes almost black. “I felt it too, babe.”

  “So did I,” Levi said, surprised. “And I didn’t even touch her.”

  Levi may not have touched her now, but he had minutes ago, and her still-tingling lips and jelly-like knees were proof.

  Spencer tugged gently, and Chelsea took a seat between the two men, perching on the edge of the cushion.

  “Forget something?” Spencer asked.

  She looked at him quizzically.

  He pointed to his lips, like he had in the kitchen when she’d straddled his lap and rocked shamelessly against his erection.

  “Oh.” Surprise rendered her almost speechless. In the kitchen they’d been alone. “Levi—”

  “Had his turn when he let you in.”

  Oh, yeah, did he ever. “But…he’s sitting right here.” She turned to face the man in question, knowing her eyes were enormous. “Beside us.”

  “I sure am,” Levi agreed. “And I’m curious to see what you’ll do about that.”

  “Chelsea.” Spencer’s tone demanded she return her attention to him. And when she did, he didn’t need to say anything else. The expectation in his gaze said it all.

  She squirmed in her seat. Partly because the idea of kissing Spencer while Levi watched made her uncomfortable, and partly because the idea of kissing Spencer while Levi watched made her pussy pulse frantically.

  He still held her hand, and Chelsea made no effort to pull away.

  Levi’s hand returned to the small of her back. “Might as well do as he says. We all know you want to.” He drew his fingers upwards, leaving trails of goose flesh alongside her spine. “We all want you to.”

  “Wha—?” His words made her dizzy. As did his scent—and Spencer’s.

  Levi smelled of the outdoors, of sea and salt and sun cream, while Spencer smelled of expensive aftershave. Had two men ever smelt better?

  Levi leaned in and nuzzled the side of her neck. “Kiss him, Chels. While I watch.”

  Shocked, she placed her free hand over her pounding heart. What game were they playing?

  “Kiss me, babe.” Spencer’s voice was so compelling, she about drowned in the sensual tone. “While Levi watches.”

  Chelsea glared at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Yet.”

  “No.” She pulled her hand free and pointed from one to the other. “You are. Both of you. You’re up to something.” And damned if it didn’t turn her on from the roots of her hair all the way down to the tips of her toes. “Look, if you’re upset with me, tell me. If you’re angry about the way I…” Shit. How did she word this? “I led you on before, kissing you, Levi, then mentioning how I felt about Spencer.” Criminy, this was excruciating. Couldn’t she swallow her tongue or something? “And…and, uh, sleeping with you, Spencer, before telling you about Levi.”

  “You didn’t sleep with me, sweetheart.”

  Chelsea gaped at him. “Pardon?” She’d had the best orgasms of her life at his hands, and he was denying it had ever happened?

  “Sleep requires getting some rest,” Levi supplied helpfully. “Closing your eyes, dozing off.”

  “We did none of that,” Spencer added.

  She’d closed her eyes. Several times. Several incredibly erotic times. “You’re twisting my words.”

  “Then we’re even, because you’re twisting our balls.” Levi grinned at her. “My balls, anyway. Can’t speak for Spence here.”

  A muscle ticked in Spencer’s jaw. “It’s not just my balls that need attention.”

  She gaped first at Levi then at Spencer, convinced she’d stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone.
“Are you punishing me? For falling for both of you and not being able to choose?”

  Spencer’s gaze was dead serious. “Is that what you’ve done? Fallen for both of us?”

  She closed her eyes again, hit with a rush of emotion for both men. “Is-isn’t it obvious?”

  “You want us both?” Levi asked.

  She looked his way, licking her suddenly dry lips. “You know I do.” And she had no idea how to deal with it. Not with both of them sitting beside her, sandwiching her in. making her quiver from their proximity.

  “That’s good.” Levi smiled again, only this time his expression was so wicked, her heart skipped a beat.

  Spencer ran his hand over the arm of the couch. “You ever been fucked on a couch before, Chelsea?”

  She eyed his hand nervously. “N-not this couch.”

  Spencer raised three fingers and his thumb, leaving his index finger stroking the leather in small circles. The action was so blatantly sexual Chelsea felt an answering pull in her clit.

  He lowered his voice. “You ever been fucked by two men on a couch before.”

  The bottom dropped out of her belly. “N-no.”

  “How about on a bed?”

  Two men and herself on a bed? “Never.”

  “Floor?” Levi asked.

  Levi and Spencer and herself on the floor? She shook her head, both in answer to the question and to clear the fog, fearing she may well lose consciousness from the scandalous thought alone.

  And then Levi’s mouth was back on her neck, nuzzling her. “Would you like to be fucked by two men, Chels?”

  In her wildest dreams—and yes, she’d had many, many wild dreams about Spencer and Levi—she’d never imagined the two of them doing her at the same time. But the idea of it… “At the same time?” she checked.

  Spencer nodded.

  Goose bumps covered every inch of her skin. Spencer and Levi taking her at the same time?

  She had to unglue her tongue from the floor to respond. “I guess that would depend on which two men would be doing the fucking.” As if there was any question. But Chelsea had to show at least a little dignity in the matter. Sobbing and yelling her approval would only make her look desperate.

 

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