Party of Three (Sunday Night Dinner Club #1

by Jess Dee

  “There’s a reason I have to run five times a week.”

  “You—” he pointed an accusing finger, “—don’t just run. You compete with Usain Bolt.”

  “Struggling to keep up, are we?”

  “Not at all.” Unless, of course, struggling included gasping to fill his oxygen-deprived lungs. “Might have a mild heart attack, but otherwise…” He gave her a thumbs up.

  “You’re a terrible liar.” She chuckled and picked up the pace.

  Jesus, the woman was trying to kill him.

  He deliberately maintained his speed, letting her get ahead. And then he forgot all about the discomforts of running. He forgot all about everything except the shift of her ass as she propelled herself forward. She ran with a feminine grace that sent a shaft of desire shooting straight through him. Her pants—which looked more like tights—could have been painted onto her lower body the way they outlined each delicious curve.

  Ah, the things he wanted to do with that ass. Over and over and over again. He began to sweat, and it had nothing to do with the exertion from running.

  Chelsea was gorgeous. Didn’t matter if she was dressed for a night on the town or a morning of hard exercise, she was jaw-droppingly sexy. Exactly the kind of sexy Will Chester had encountered in the first chapter of the fifth Willful book—right around the same time Levi had found the inspiration to keep writing.

  “I’m not falling for that,” she called over her shoulder. “Keep up or go home, buddy. There’s no room for slackers on this track.”

  “Not slacking,” he called back. “Going into heart failure.” Damn it, running got a whole lot harder. Literally. It was virtually impossible to keep up with a massive erection.

  “You complain an awful lot.”

  “Pulse…slowing. Blood ceasing…to circulate.” Perhaps because it had all pooled in his groin? “Vision becoming blurry.”

  She turned to face him but kept moving, trotting backwards. “You’re a funny guy.”

  “I’m a dying guy.” Dying of gratitude. Now that she faced him, he could zone in on the roundness of her breasts. Confined in the stretchy fabric of her singlet, they hardly moved as she ran. But without those clothes…

  Christ, Levi could only imagine how they’d look swinging free.

  “You have a pretty focused gaze for a dying man with blurry vision.”

  “Every man should be lucky enough to die looking at what I’m looking at.”

  She glanced over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t about to run into anything. “Ogling my breasts isn’t going to get you around this park.”

  “Maybe not. But the memory alone will get me through many lonely nights.”

  “Do you have lots of those?”

  “Lonely nights?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Too many—since I decided the only thing that could fill them up is you.”

  She grinned at him. “Still not marrying you, Levi.”

  “I have faith. One day you’ll say yes.”

  “Do they help you write?”

  “What?”

  “Your delusions.”

  Levi put his fist over his heart. “Ouch.”

  Laughing, she turned back around and sprinted ahead.

  Levi took a long sip of water then sprinted after her. It took a good few minutes before he caught up. Minutes he spent looking his fill and enjoying every second immensely. “K, let’s simplify this. If you won’t marry me, How about we settle for a blowjob on a park bench?”

  She punched him in the arm without missing a beat.

  “Would that be a no?”

  “Keep dreaming, mate.”

  “A handjob at the bicycle track?”

  “In your wildest fantasies.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Levi, Levi, Levi.”

  “Sex beside the duck pond?”

  “How about you shut up and run?”

  “You’ve got to admit, compared to those options, marriage is looking pretty damn good.”

  “Know what’s looking even better?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Running alone tomorrow.”

  “You wound me.” No, she didn’t. She turned him the fuck on. “I have one more possibility for your consideration.”

  “And that is?”

  Levi came to a standstill.

  Chelsea slowed down and then stopped herself, amusement making her lips twitch. As he walked towards her she took the opportunity to sip from her bottle.

  Levi waited until she lowered her arm again, enjoying the way a couple of tiny droplets of water slid off her lips. “How about a kiss against the paperbark tree?”

  Chelsea chuckled. “You’ll try anything.”

  “For you? Anything at all. Only this time…I’m not kidding.” He gestured for Chelsea to look behind her, at the massive paperbark she’d stopped beside.

  Before she had a chance to respond, Levi backed her up against the trunk of the tree, leaned in and kissed her. He pressed his lips to her utterly irresistible ones and gave himself over to the moment.

  Apparently, so did Chelsea, who gasped in surprise before sinking into the kiss.

  He took his time getting to know the feel of her soft, warm mouth against his, learning the fullness of her succulent lips and exotic spicy scent up close. The combination of the two did crazy things to his already aroused body, ramping up his need for her.

  Perhaps Levi would have been able to keep the kiss chaste had Chelsea not emitted a muffled, needy moan and hooked her arm around his neck. But the second she reacted, pulling him closer, any chance Levi had of keeping his cool evaporated.

  He deepened the kiss, opening his lips and letting his tongue delve between hers.

  When he sampled the sweetness of her breath, he was lost. The studied self-control he’d summoned vanished in a heartbeat, and he plunged his tongue into her mouth, devouring her.

  God, she tasted good. Better than any dish she’d ever served in her restaurant. She tasted of woman and dreams and desire.

  She didn’t just taste good, she felt good too. Their bodies were pressed together, her breasts molded to his chest, her toned thighs touching his. Levi’s erection pushed against her flat belly.

  If running had emptied his lungs of breath, kissing her filled his blood with fire. Chelsea made him burn. Passion ignited inside, a culmination of months of aching for her yet repressing the need.

  He dropped the water bottle and filled his hands with her hot, silky skin, grabbing her waist and hauling her closer even as he stepped forward, trapping her firmly between himself and the tree trunk.

  Levi groaned into her mouth and kissed her harder, deeper. She responded wholeheartedly, taking everything he gave before chasing his tongue back into his mouth, and kissing him just as thoroughly.

  If he had his way, he’d rip her tights off, lose his shorts and sheath himself inside her. Right here, up against the tree. But the vibrations of passing footsteps and snatches of conversation reminded him they were not alone. Not by a long shot. They were in the middle of a park, surrounded by people.

  He ended the kiss reluctantly, keeping her pinned against the tree.

  “Christ,” he gasped hoarsely. “You’ve got me so fucking turned on, I could take you right here in the middle of Centennial Park and not regret it for a second.”

  She didn’t bother answering. Not with words anyway.

  She tunneled her hand into his hair, massaging his scalp and steering his head so his mouth was aligned with hers once more. Her eyes smoldered, her lids lowered to half-mast and breath puffed from her mouth. Then she took his lips with hers and proceeded to blow his world clean away with her kiss.

  Last night, Levi had told Spencer he really liked Chelsea. This morning, those words made a mockery of his true feelings. He didn’t just like the woman. He was already halfway in love with her.

  And God knew, Levi had not loved a woman in a long time.

  He nudged her thighs apart, mak
ing space for himself between her legs. Then he bent his knees slightly and repositioned his hips, sighing in relief as his cock came to rest in the V of her thighs.

  The urge to thrust against her almost did his head in, and repressing that urge about killed him, but outside, in the open like this, he had no choice. If he gave in to his impulses, he’d be arrested for public indecency.

  It was Chelsea who broke the kiss this time round. “If we weren’t standing in the middle of Centennial Park,” she whispered in his ear, “I’d insist you fuck me. Hard and fast and right here against the paperbark tree.”

  “Chels.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re killing me.”

  “You started it.”

  With his eyes closed, her scent was even more alluring. Sweet and spicy and totally addictive. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the urge to grind against her—and was immediately rewarded by her muffled whimper and barely repressed shudder.

  “Never would have needed to start this here if you’d agreed to marry me.”

  “Can’t marry you, Levi.” She trailed her lips up to his ear and nibbled on his lobe—which instantly turned into an erogenous zone.

  He tilted his head to the side to give her easier access. He moved his hands up her waist and rested his thumbs on her ribs. All he need do was brush them upwards and he’d caress the curves of those stunning breasts. “Give me a reason. One good reason and I’ll stop asking.”

  A slow release of her breath tortured the side of his neck as she freed his ear and pulled back. Her shoulders seemed to sag against his chest.

  Levi opened his eyes to find himself staring into hers. While he could still clearly see his desire reflected in those green pools, he saw something else too. Something he wasn’t altogether sure he liked.

  She blinked several times but didn’t lower her gaze. “I don’t think you’re going to be happy with my reason.”

  “If it keeps us apart, you’re probably right.”

  “I want you to take me, Levi. I’ve wanted it a long time.” She licked her lips, and Levi found it almost impossible not to claim her tongue again. “For you to finally, finally fuck me.”

  He muttered something unintelligible—mostly because intelligible speech failed him at that point.

  “But…”

  Shit, he hated that word. “But?”

  “But you’re not the only one I’ve wanted for a long time.”

  It took a good few seconds for her meaning to set in. It took a little longer for the raging heat in his groin to subside. And it took a minute or so more before his erection faded altogether. Levi dropped his hands and took a step back.

  She shut her eyes briefly, and regret flitted across her face, as though she lamented the loss of physical contact.

  “There’s someone else?”

  Again with the licking her lips, making her kiss-stung mouth look even more appealing. “I’m not involved with anyone else. But there is a man I’m interested in. I’ve known him since I’ve known you. And I’ve wanted him for just as long.”

  A million thoughts chased their way through Levi’s head.

  I’ll kill the bastard.

  Competition. Of course there’d be someone else.

  Fuck.

  She doesn’t want me.

  She wouldn’t respond to me like that if she didn’t want me.

  I can make her want me more than she wants him.

  “You’re telling me this…why?” So he’d back off, or so he wouldn’t?

  “Because I like him, Levi. A lot. As much as I like you. And I won’t lie to you and pretend differently. It’s only fair you know where I stand, especially…”

  “Especially?”

  “Especially because you know him.”

  Levi’s gut churned.

  “I’m seeing him tonight.”

  The bottom dropped out of his stomach. He took another involuntary step back. “You’re seeing Spencer tonight.” He was helping her with her taxes.

  Chelsea nodded once.

  Fuck, no! No, no, no.

  Not Spence. Not his best mate. Anyone else he could compete with. He could take them down with a mighty roar of alpha dominance. Anyone else he’d be happy to fight to the death.

  But Spence? Hell.

  This was a no brainer. Levi had to walk away. Shake Chelsea’s hand—a no-hard-feelings gesture—and walk away.

  There was zero chance he’d compete with his best mate for the affections of a woman. That would fuck up everything. Their friendship, their interactions with Chelsea and any chance the Sunday Night Dinner Club ever had of returning to her restaurant.

  Yep, no question about it. Whatever was brewing between Chelsea and himself had to end. Right here. Right now.

  Problem was, understanding this on a rational level didn’t neutralize the fire still burning in his veins, and it didn’t make him want Chelsea any less.

  “I can’t lie about this, Levi. I’m…seriously attracted to you. I have been since the moment you walked into my restaurant. But I’m equally attracted to Spencer, and when he offered to come over tonight…I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to. Just like I didn’t want to say no to you for this morning.”

  “He’s my best mate.” Levi shoved his hand through his hair.

  “I know.”

  “We go way back.”

  “I know that too.”

  “Christ.” Who the fuck even knew if Spence was interested? Yeah, sure, he’d mentioned her several times, commented on how stunning he thought she was, but for all Levi knew, Spence might be meeting Chelsea tonight with the intent of doing her taxes, nothing more.

  Somehow, Levi doubted it. If that was the case, Spence would have made the meeting at his office, during office hours.

  His friend wasn’t the kind to shoot his mouth off about a woman he was interested in. Nope, Spence generally waited until he was involved before speaking to Levi about her. And when Spencer got involved with a woman, he gave her everything. His attention, his time, his heart and his soul. Spencer wasn’t one for doing things in half measures. If he had his eye on Chelsea, he’d give it everything he had.

  Why hadn’t Levi thought about this last night? He’d been so chuffed Chelsea had said yes, he’d forgotten all about the Spencer-tax thing.

  Jesus, what a clusterfuck.

  “I have to walk away,” he told Chelsea.

  Her face fell. “I…I understand.”

  “I can’t do this to him.”

  She nodded, but her skin lost its radiance. Her pupils were once again tiny pinpricks, almost hidden in green depths.

  Levi held out his hand. He’d get the no-hard-feelings handshake over and done with and head back to his car.

  What he didn’t count on was the electric charge that blasted up his arm the second Chelsea took his hand, or the renewed surge of blood to his groin on contact. Brutally aware of every last one of his good intentions, Levi clasped her hand in his, used it to tug her hard toward him and reclaimed her mouth the instant he had her back in his arms.

  Chapter Three

  Delicious aromas filled the restaurant kitchen, making Spencer pause from his work to look up from his seat at one of the workbenches.

  Chelsea stood at an open, industrial-sized oven, prodding at the contents of a roasting pan with a long fork. She was dressed casually in jeans and a tight T-shirt. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she looked like a million dollars.

  The woman could wear a hessian sack, and she’d look like a million dollars.

  “Smells good.” He sniffed the air appreciatively.

  “Of course it smells good. It’s my legendary roast lamb, made with a concoction of rosemary, mint and seven spices.”

  “I’ve never seen roast lamb on your menu.”

  “That’s why it’s legendary.” She laughed and closed the oven, setting the fork down. “I’ve only ever spoken about making this dish. I’ve never actually cooked it.”

  His mouth watered, partly beca
use he was starving and the appetizing scent teased his empty stomach, and partly because Chelsea always made his mouth water. “Can’t wait to taste.” Both the lamb and the woman. He had every intention of trying both before the end of the evening.

  Something in his tone must have alerted her to his intentions, because she slowly turned to look at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. “I can’t wait for you to taste either. We, um…” She cleared her throat. “We’ve got another ten or twenty minutes before it’s cooked to perfection.”

  “Perfect. I’m about done.” Or only just beginning, depending on which goal he was working on.

  She nodded at the benchtop, the laptops and the big plastic box that held all her receipts and paperwork. “How do the taxes look?”

  “Truth be told? They were a little more complicated than I figured.”

  Concern instantly lined her beautiful face. “Is there a problem with the books?”

  “The books are in great shape. The problem lies with me.” Or his ability to concentrate, to be exact.

  “How so?”

  “You ever try filling in forms when a beautiful woman distracts your every attempt?”

  She closed one eye and wrinkled up her nose as though deep in thought. “I can’t say I have. No.”

  “Trust me, if you had, you’d have screwed up the paperwork too.” Never mind the temperatures radiating from the oven, heat fairly sizzled between them. It had ever since she’d let him in to the deserted restaurant.

  “You’ve screwed up my tax forms?”

  “Come see for yourself.” He pushed his stool back, making space for Chelsea to squeeze between him and the computer.

  She walked right over and stared at the screen. Then she frowned. “Uh, I wouldn’t know how to tell if you were messing them up or not.”

  “I’m not.” It went against the fiber of Spencer’s being to screw up anything he worked on.

  “Then why did you say you were?”

  “Quickest way to achieve my aim.”

  “Which is…?”

  “This.” He tugged her hips.

  She lost her balance and fell right into his arms.

  “Spencer!”