Party of Three (Sunday Night Dinner Club #1

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Party of Three (Sunday Night Dinner Club #1 Page 9

by Jess Dee


  His balls tightened to stone, and blood and come pulsed through his shaft.

  Spencer gave a low, harsh groan, and then he was coming too, the beating of his dick as he released his load reverberated along the length of Levi’s cock.

  He couldn’t take the pressure or the pleasure a second longer. Didn’t try. He just let go, pulled back and buried himself in Chelsea over and over until he couldn’t stand it another second. He came, emptying himself deep within Chelsea’s dark, forbidden back passage. He and Spencer and Chelsea came in unison, their cries filling the air.

  And in that moment, Levi realized everything he’d ever known about his life had changed. He’d changed. No longer was he the man who thrilled in the chase, relished the orgasm and fled the next day. He was now the man who’d found the woman who’d complete his life. And he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life sharing that woman with his best friend.

  Chelsea lay utterly breathless on Levi’s bed. Levi spooned behind her, his chest pressed to her back, the front of his thighs pressed to the back of hers and his arm holding her firmly around her waist. And she spooned Spencer exactly the same way.

  If the house burst into flames around her, she would not find the energy or the reserve to save herself. But why would she want to? She was right where she needed to be. Right where she belonged. And she’d never been happier.

  “Know what I can’t wait for?” Levi asked behind her. He sounded as breathless as she felt.

  “What?” Spencer asked.

  “The time when we can do that again. All of us.”

  “Mmm. Me neither,” Chelsea agreed wholeheartedly.

  “Know what I can’t believe?” Spencer said.

  “What?” Levi asked.

  “That I’d fall in love with the same woman my best mate fell in love with, and feel this happy to share her.”

  “Yeah.” Levi nodded behind her, his chin bumping against her shoulder. “It’s pretty damn unbelievable. But there you have it.”

  “Wait.” Chelsea sat up so quickly that Levi fell forward and Spencer fell back, clunking heads.

  Spencer oofed, while Levi rubbed his head.

  “What did you say?” she demanded.

  Spencer sat up beside her. “That it’s pretty damn unbelievable.”

  “No. Not that part. The other part.”

  “We’re happy to share you, sweetheart.” Levi pushed upright as well. “Ridiculously happy.”

  “No.” She almost waved his words away and then realized what he’d said. “Well, yes, that.” Holy smoke, yes, that. “But the other part. The first part.”

  Spencer smiled, and Chelsea’s chin dropped.

  Dear God, he looked gorgeous when he smiled. Drop-dead, bone-meltingly gorgeous.

  “You mean the bit about us both loving you?”

  She nodded, still too awed by his beautiful smile to answer.

  “It’s true.” Levi took her hand. She turned to look at him, and her heart skipped a good few beats when she saw the serious look in his eyes. Her lungs seized, refusing to function for long seconds. Gone was the laughter and the teasing and the jokes. All she could see was the emotion that filled his gaze, making the blue of his eyes shine. “I love you, Chels. I’m totally, completely in love with you. And Spence here—”

  “I love you too, babe.” Spencer still smiled. “I’m one hundred percent hooked on you. And I think the three of us, together, will be brilliant.”

  “Agreed,” Levi said. “Brilliant.”

  “Y-you’d want that? All of us together, all of the time.”

  Levi’s easy grin returned. “Not all of the time. Fact, I’m kinda looking forward to the mornings Spence has to work. When you get back from your run and you’ve got a few hours to kill before you have to be at the restaurant. I’ll have you all to myself then.”

  “And I figure I’ll get you alone when Lev writes at night,” Spencer told her. “It’ll be just you and me and one big bed. Or couch. Or wall, kitchen bench top or floor.”

  “B-but then when will it be all three of us?”

  “Whenever you want, Chels,” Levi said. “Whenever you want.”

  “There’s just one thing we’d need from you first,” Spencer added, back to his solemn self.

  “What is it?” Anything. She’d give them anything at all to live the dream life she never knew she wanted.

  “We need to hear the words too, Chels. I love you. Spence loves you. How about you?”

  “Oh, God. I love you too. Both of you. I’ve loved you since you walked into my restaurant a year ago. I fell so hard then, and I never got back up. These last few days, I’ve fallen harder and harder.” She leaned in and kissed one man. “I love you, Levi Barret.” Then she turned and kissed the other. “I love you, Spencer Allen.”

  Levi collapsed back against a pile of cushions. “Thank God for small miracles.”

  She smiled at him.

  “One more question,” he said.

  “Anything.”

  “Are we still welcome at Chelsea’s?”

  “Oh, my God, yes. Every day. And night. Always.”

  Levi breathed a massive sigh. “Phew.”

  Spencer grinned at Levi. “Lucky for you.”

  Huh? “Why would you say that?”

  Levi’s smiled a mischievous smile. “The club threatened me.”

  Chelsea’s stared at him blankly.

  “The Sunday Night Dinner Club,” he clarified. “They warned me to leave you alone.”

  “What? Why?”

  “In case he screwed up our chances of ever being allowed back into the restaurant again.”

  “How could he have screwed it up?”

  “His love-’em-and-leave-’em ways,” Spencer explained. “They were worried he’d hurt you.”

  “Would you?” she asked Levi. “Hurt me?”

  The solemnity was back in his eyes. “Never.”

  “How about you?” she asked Spencer.

  “Never.”

  “Then I think there’ll be no problem with the Dinner Club dining at Chelsea’s. Ever. In fact, if you carry on treating me the way you’ve both treated me tonight, I think the Dinner Club will have a long and happy relationship with Chelsea’s.”

  “And I think Spence and I will have a long and happy relationship with Chelsea.”

  “The happiest,” Spencer agreed. And with that, he drew Chelsea into his arms and he and Levi proceeded to show Chelsea just how happy they’d make her.

  Party Of Three

  Copyright © 2014 Jess Dee

  Two men, one woman and a whole menu of opportunities.

  Sunday Night Dinner Club, Book 1

  When Spencer Allen arranges an impromptu date with Chelsea Holden, the beautiful restaurant owner he’s lusted after for months, he discovers an unexpected obstacle in his quest for true love—his best mate.

  Levi Barret’s always been reluctant to give his heart to one woman, until Chelsea catches his attention. Now he’s finding it difficult to think of anyone else.

  Levi’s interest in Chelsea could spell the end of a lifelong friendship…or the beginning of a whole new relationship.

  Warning: Be sure to keep a safe distance from the oven. When things heat up in this kitchen, sparks are going to fly.

  If you enjoyed Party of Three, please turn the page for a preview of the second book in the Sunday Night Dinner Club Series: Table For Two

  Table for Two

  Copyright © 2014 Jess Dee

  James Elliot never meant to barge into his friend’s bedroom, but now that he’s caught an eyeful of Olivia Taylor, butt-naked, he can’t seem to imagine her any other way.

  Liv’s world is falling apart. The goals she’s worked so hard to achieve are crumbling. The only thing she can rely on now is the constant stability her friends provide.

  But one of those friends is changing the dynamics of their relationship. James is whipping away everything that’s familiar between them and replacing it with a s
ensuality and a passion Liv can’t ignore.

  With so much at stake, Liv has no time to fall in love—even if it’s with her best friend. It’s up to James to guide her through the toughest challenge of her life and show her that the light on the other side of the tunnel just might burn between them forever.

  Warning: Contains all the red-hot loving you’d expect from a Jess Dee romance, and a sexy, sports-mad, muscle-bound alpha hero with a penchant for tossing his heroine over his shoulder.

  Chapter One

  James Elliot pushed the door open and stepped into the room. He got two steps in—and froze.

  “Bloody hell!” Olivia Taylor’s yelp pierced the air. “What are you doing in here?”

  James had to force the muscles in his jaw to work before he could respond, and even then forming words wasn’t easy. “What am I doing? Uh, what are you doing?”

  Liv glared at him. “What does it look like I’m doing?” A curious, high-pitched squeak marred the usual controlled tone of her voice.

  “Uh…” James took a moment to look her over from head to toe. A moment he knew he had no right to take, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. His gaze swept from the shocked look in her blue eyes and the rosy red lips pursed in a frown, to the hand propped on her hip and finally to the sexy red nail polish on her toes. “Well, it, uh, doesn’t look like you’re doing much of anything.”

  Which wasn’t a false assessment of the situation. She just stood there, glaring at him. James would know, since he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from her. Hell, he couldn’t even blink. She might not be doing a damn thing, but she’d never looked better. Ever.

  She scowled at him, shooting invisible daggers from across her bedroom. “I’m getting dressed, you moron.”

  “Ah, right.” James nodded, snapping back to reality. “Which would probably explain why you have nothing on.” His good friend stood there, beside a tall chest of drawers, stripped naked. Magnificently, wonderfully, stunningly naked.

  She looked good. Chin-droppingly, mouth-wateringly good. And just as soon as the shock of finding her this way wore off, he’d close his eyes, turn around and get the hell out of her bedroom.

  “Yes, that would indeed explain it.” Her voice held a hint of sarcasm. “What is not explainable is what you’re doing inside my room while I’m getting dressed?”

  James narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m here to collect you and Ava.”

  It wasn’t like Liv hadn’t been expecting him. As had become routine over the years, James stopped in at Liv and Ava’s place every third Sunday evening to pick them up for Dinner Club. It was pointless taking two cars when they lived in the same block of flats and were all headed to the same place. “We have dinner tonight.”

  “I didn’t ask what you were doing in the flat. I asked what you were doing in my bedroom.”

  “Is that a trick question?” He tilted his head to the side, genuinely puzzled.

  She glared at him.

  “You invited me in.”

  “I most definitely did not.”

  “I knocked. You said come in.”

  Liv folded her arms beneath her breasts in indignation. “I said I’m coming.”

  It took James a good few seconds to respond. For the life of him, he could not string a sentence together. Not when Liv’s arms framed her breasts so perfectly. And what breasts they were—small, round and pert. Not even a handful by his estimation, but still enough to satisfy any man.

  One glance was all it took to make him hard as a rock.

  He curled his fingers into fists as an unexpected urge to touch her left him bewildered. Liv’s breasts may be a solid fifteen on a scale of one to ten, but they were Olivia’s, for fuck sake. Liv’s. His friend, his mate, his good buddy from way back when.

  No way in hell should he be pondering how best to get his grubby paws on them.

  “James!” the friend in question spluttered.

  Ah, right. She expected a response to… Crap. What had she just said?

  He mentally scanned through their conversation.

  Coming!

  She’d said coming, not come in. “Shit, I’m sorry. My bad. I must have misunderstood.”

  She shook her head in obvious disbelief, a quick short shake that sent her bobbed hair swinging from side to side, so the ends—which were slightly longer than the back—hit her chin.

  He watched, fascinated, as the ceiling light shone down on her ash-blond strands, creating a halo effect. She looked like an angel. A gorgeous, sexy angel who made his dick ache and his balls heavy. “I swear…” He held his hands up, showing her his palms. “It was a mistake. I thought you invited me in.”

  “And now?” she spluttered. “Do you still think that?”

  “No.” He flashed her a remorseful smile. “But it’s pretty damn tough to regret being here.” Fully clothed, Liv was a good-looking woman. Bare-assed naked, she was magnificent.

  Quick as a flash, she stuck her hand into the open drawer beside her and hurled something at James. It hit him in the face.

  He blinked. “Did you just throw a pair of socks at me?”

  “I don’t keep anything more solid in my underwear drawer, otherwise you can rest assured I’d have thrown that.”

  “Great arm, Taylor.” Man, he was impressed with her aim. Impressed and proud. “You should take up cricket.”

  The comment was one hundred percent sincere, so when another pair of socks hit him on the nose, he was a little…surprised. And, yeah, a lot aroused.

  Olivia’s body twisted with the throw, outlining the sleek curve of her slim waist. Perhaps a little too slim for James’s usual liking, but that didn’t impede the pleasure he took from her bowling action. She looked startlingly beautiful sending the full toss in his direction. All sleek, toned flesh, silky hair swinging with the action and fire blazing from her eyes.

  She took his breath away.

  Or perhaps the third pair of socks, hitting him square in the throat, was responsible for that.

  “Can you please get out of my room and let me dress in peace?” Liv stood armed and ready, two pairs of socks in each raised hand. Which, coincidentally, left her entire body exposed to his greedy gaze.

  Flushed cheeks made her skin glow, and she gnawed on a lower lip that somehow looked a lot more luscious than it had the last time he’d seen her. Long, slim legs met at the juncture of her thighs—a juncture decorated with nothing more than a delicate strip of hair. Trim hips led to the sleek curves of her waist and a flat belly. Then there were the half-a-handful breasts. The ones with the tempting, dusky pink nipples.

  Liv might be in need of a good burger to pack a bit of meat on her bones, but the knowledge didn’t prevent James from staring at her in wonder and, perhaps a bit of awe. It also didn’t stop the lust pounding from his groin, through his veins and hitting every nerve ending in his body. Nor did it dim his bewilderment at finding himself fascinated with a woman he’d never thought of as more than a good friend.

  He and Liv went way back. To university days. So did the six other mates they were meeting for dinner. As adults, they met every third Sunday and enjoyed a delicious meal together. It was their way of ensuring they stayed in touch when regular life interfered with their ability to see one another as often as they’d been able to while studying.

  “I would leave,” he promised her. “Under ordinary circumstances I’d turn around and walk out the room. But I, er, kind of can’t go anywhere now.”

  Liv… Growled?

  Seriously? A growl?

  “Get out!”

  “No, wait.” Again he held his hands, this time in surrender. “Honest to God. I can’t leave like this.”

  “Like what?” she spat out, her exasperation visible.

  He dropped his hands, gesturing at his groin. “Like this.”

  Her gaze dropped, and her eyes popped open. “James!”

  “I swear it’s not intentional.” He scrubbed a hand
over his forehead, his erection pulsing. “Jeez, Liv, I can’t help it. You’re naked, you’re hot and I’m…well, I’m just a guy.” What man wouldn’t be brought to his knees by the sight of her?

  A pair of socks hit him slap bang between his ribs. “You’re a freaking perv is what you are.”

  He stared in astonishment, relishing her bowler’s arm, her fighting spirit and yeah, her bouncing breasts. “God,” he said hoarsely, “I think I just fell a little bit in love with you.”

  More socks sailed through the air, each one finding its target. “Out. Now.”

  “You think I’m joking.” He shook his head, both in denial of the thought and in regret that she’d assume as much.

  The next item she threw hit him on the shoulder with a hard thunk. Fleeting pain shot through his arm. “Ouch.”

  “Nail polish,” she explained, wearing a smile that was not sweet.

  He stared at her, perplexed. “I thought you didn’t have anything hard in there.”

  “In there? I don’t. On top—” she gestured to the top of the chest of drawers, “—I have an arsenal of make-up.”

  Thunk.

  A can of deodorant hit him on the other shoulder, followed by a tube of…something.

  God help him, with every fiery throw, he grew that little bit more aroused.

  “Next one’s landing on your forehead,” she promised and grabbed a bottle of body lotion.

  “Okay, okay. You win.” He bowed his head in submission. Well, partly in submission, and partly because he was a horny son of a bitch and hungered to catch another glimpse of the thin strip of hair between her legs. Sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “I’m leaving.”

  “Thank God for small miracles.”

  Thank God, indeed. That sweet strip was a miracle of womanhood. He forced his gaze up to meet hers. The fire in her eyes and determination in her face made his heart hammer in time to his throbbing cock.

 

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