“For what? The fact that you’re attracted to Jordan?”
Kir groaned.
“Kir.” He looked up, surprised to see the understanding on Logan’s face. “Me, too.”
He felt a surprising flash of jealousy at that, but wasn’t sure if it was for Logan or Jordan. Not good…or very good? “You want her, too?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. She’s a hell of a woman.”
Kir found himself nodding his agreement. “She took everything we threw at her in stride.”
“If I was her I would have kicked our asses out of my office, gone and had a few drinks, then convinced myself it never happened right after I called to have the carpet replaced.”
“So what do we do about it?”
They stared into each other’s faces, reading the promises they’d long ago made to each other and the new, sudden want they both felt. No matter how startlingly strong, there was no way Kir would act on it if it meant losing Logan.
Logan was his everything.
Kir reached out first, cupping Logan’s cheek. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Logan.”
“Ditto.” Logan’s face was flushed with pleasure, that demonic grin of his once again gracing his features.
“So, what do we do?”
He watched Logan slouch down onto the floor at his feet, resting his head against Kir’s knees with a contented sigh. “The way I see it, we have two options.”
“Those are?” Kir’s heart rate picked up. He began absently stroking that fiery hair, wondering if Logan was thinking what he was thinking.
“Option one: we walk away from her once this is all over.”
No!
The instant denial raced through his body, causing him to jump. What the fuck? He never had that reaction to losing anyone or anything…other than Logan.
It didn’t help that Logan started to chuckle. “Thought so.”
“Option two?”
His heart was in his throat right up until Logan looked up at him with a leer. “Don’t you just love the French?”
Kir blinked. “Huh?”
“They come up with words for the most amazing concepts.”
“Like?” Kir drawled. He was pretty sure now he knew where Logan was going, but he wanted confirmation before he said anything.
“Ménage a trois. It has such a sexy ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“Permanent ménage?” The words had left his mouth before he even realized the significance of what he was saying. Something about Jordan just…felt right.
Logan’s expression turned serious. “I’m not sure yet.” He shook his head, smirking. “But tell me you aren’t already a little in love with her, and I’ll call you a liar. I mean, damn. She’s got a smart mouth, hot body, bodacious ass, and she’s clever as all hell. And she wants both of us.”
Kir opened his mouth to say the words and found them stuck in his throat. “Damn.”
“Ditto.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but it did.” Logan was frowning again, this time in confusion. “It’s like we’ve found something we didn’t even know was missing. But if you asked, I would walk away from this. You know that.” For the first time, Kir saw Logan’s uncertainty peek through, reminding him of the broken man Loki had been after Baldur freed him from the mountain. The reckless youth he was had been burned away by the snake’s acid, leaving behind a damaged man who tossed and turned at night, screaming denials as he relived everything over and over again. It had taken Kir a long time to ease his lover’s torment. He also knew their relationship was the foundation the now confident, cocky man who was still inclined to take risks stood on.
Which was why he’d been so upset about his reaction to Jordan. But knowing that Logan felt the same eased that guilt
Kir thought about taking Jordan and making her theirs. Thanks to Logan’s ability to shift genders as well as shape, Kir had been happily bisexual for centuries now. He’d felt no need to go outside the relationship when Logan could, literally, be everything and anything he needed. Logan, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to explore that side of himself with Kir, since Kir couldn’t change his shape. He knew that sometimes Logan longed for soft, scented flesh, rounded breasts and bellies, all of the things he’d given up when he’d pledged himself to Kir. But Logan, for all his wild youth and unhappy marriage, hadn’t cheated on him once. And not once, through all of the long centuries, had either of them had the urge to add a third to their relationship.
Now, with the advent of one small, half-human woman, all of that was about to change. He could give the touch of a female back to his lover, and have them both for himself. He thought back to the odd feeling he’d had on the beach, that something was about to happen that would change them, and felt that sensation once more before it settled into a comfortable purr.
He saw the relief on Logan’s face as he nodded his acceptance.
Jordan was theirs. Now they just had to seduce her to them.
Can one woman be twice beloved?
Twice the Night
© 2008 Dawn Halliday
After witnessing her husband’s brutal murder by a gang of vampire thugs, it took Tamara O’Leary four long years to learn to be happy again. Now she and Duncan’s best friend Cole Thompson, after working through their shared grief, are about to be married. Finally, she can eagerly look forward to the future with a man who has not only reopened her heart, but brought her out of her sexual shell.
Until one night she awakens to find Duncan gazing lovingly at her. He’s not just a beautiful dream. He’s real…and he wants her back.
Tamara still has feelings for Duncan, but she isn’t willing to give up what she’s found with Cole. Worse, she soon learns that Duncan survived that night by turning into the very thing she fears most—a vampire.
Caught between tears of joy and terror, Tamara has a choice. Retreat back behind her shell of fear—or step boldly into the arms of two men who love her.
Warning: Graphic language and some violence. Explicit sex including a vampiric threesome. A one-of-a-kind wedding featuring a committed ménage a trois.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Twice the Night:
She had to touch Duncan again. She crawled back onto the bed, close to his body, placing her hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall as he took in a breath.
“I thought I saw you die,” she whispered in awe.
“I didn’t.”
Slowly, he raised his hand and pressed it over hers. She stared at both their hands, pale against the dark of his T-shirt in the glow of the moonlight streaming in through the slit in the curtains at their big bay window.
She watched the silvery light dance across their entwined fingers. Once, Duncan’s hand had been darker than hers, but their skin was now equally pale, and the main distinguishing difference was the size and masculinity of his palms and fingers compared to her smaller, more delicate ones.
“You’re really alive.”
His chest moved with another breath. She looked into his face, and he gazed down at her, his eyes dark with emotion.
“Aye, Tammy—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed. “I’ve come back to you.”
“How can this be? How? I saw you—”
“Shh.” The fingers of his other hand brushed over her lips. She sat frozen, entranced, as he traced across her upper and then lower lip, so gentle, his eyes full of…love.
It reminded her of how he’d looked at her at their wedding just before he’d kissed her. Like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Wait a minute. She frowned, so hard she felt the crease deepen above the bridge of her nose.
“Duncan, what happened to you? How can this be? Where have you been all this time?”
He hesitated, then said, “It took me a long time to heal, Tammy girl.”
“Heal?”
“Aye. From what happened that night. And by the time I was ready to come back…” H
is voice dwindled.
“What?” she prompted. “By the time you were ready to come back, what?”
“You were with Cole.”
“So you let me believe you were dead?” Steely talons gripped her euphoria by the neck and dragged it down into a pool of anger.
“I’m sorry, love.”
She pulled back from him, jerking her hand away from his chest. “I thought you were dead, Duncan. I mourned you.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“Do you know how much I suffered?”
“Aye,” he said softly.
“And you’re telling me you were alive the whole time? Do you know what it did to me, thinking you were dead?”
“Tammy, I only saw you—”
“You saw me? You saw me and you let me mourn, let me believe you were gone forever?” She was furious now. She slid off the bed and turned on him. “How could you? How could you do that to me, Duncan?”
He rose and caught her by the wrist, but she yanked away, stepping back from him until her bare thighs pressed against the bedside table.
“Was there someone else?” She shoved at Duncan’s shoulder as he moved forward. He stopped and just stood there staring at her, a pleading look on his face. “Is that why you lied to me? Let me live a lie?”
“No, love.”
“And you come back now? Now? When Cole and I are finally happy again? Why, Duncan?”
His arms closed around her. “Tammy—”
“No!” She struggled, but a firm hand covered her jaw. She wrenched her head away but it was no use. His fingers tightened over her skin, forcing her to face him.
“Listen to me, sweetheart—”
“I hurt for you, Duncan. I thought I was going to die from the grief. You saw it and you let it happen, and I was so sad…all I wanted was to-to see you—” She gasped in a breath. She was choking on the words now, and his face loomed close, so full of pain and hurt, but it was Duncan, really him, and he was so close she could feel his heat. “To-to talk to you, to be with you. And you—you were alive the whole time. Do-do you know what I would have given just to see your face again? Do you, Duncan? I—”
His mouth closed over hers, cutting off her words.
Duncan’s mouth, Duncan’s kiss.
And suddenly, nothing could stop her. She needed him. Needed to feel his body, his skin against hers. With her hungry kisses covering his lips, his face, she clawed at his T-shirt, yanking it upward. The warmth of his torso made her gasp, and she struggled to pull the shirt off of him. Finally, he grabbed it and, moving away from her for a second, he tugged it over his head.
She lunged at him again. The taut peaks of her nipples brushed against his hot skin, and she groaned. She thrust her hands between them and closed her fingers around the stiff column of his cock. The thick material of his jeans was in the way. Impatiently, she fumbled with the buttons. Nipping at her ear while she rained kisses up and down his neck, he finished unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them down his narrow hips and kicked them off.
God, she wanted to claw herself right into him. He smelled different from how he’d smelled years ago. Sweeter. Smooth caramel with a tang of earthy male musk. She wanted to dive into him. She couldn’t get enough of him.
She slid her arms around his neck and hoisted herself up onto his body, wrapping her legs around him. His body was hard—he’d clearly been working out—but his skin was softer than she remembered. Still warm, though. Duncan was always warm. She crawled right up his body, and he held her easily, her ass cradled in his palms, her pussy cradling his cock.
God, they still fit together so well. So perfectly.
Holding her against him, kissing her voraciously, leaving no part of her face, neck or shoulders untouched by his lips, he moved until she felt her back pressed against the cool, smooth painted face of the wall.
His cock slid against the dripping folds of her pussy, and she groaned, long and low against his neck. He felt good against her. So hot. So right.
Lifting her with one hand, he reached down to adjust his cock, fitting it to the notch of her entrance, and she opened her eyes.
Across the room on the bureau, she and Cole grinned at her from a framed picture. They’d been hiking that day—having a great time. It was just a month before he’d asked her to marry him, and she’d finally begun to smile again.
Reality hit her like a baseball bat square on the head.
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