by Mari Carr
“You smell good,” she whispered.
Luc stroked her hair gently. “I think it’s a good thing we all had the garlic bread. Otherwise, you might not feel that way.”
She smiled, her face still burrowed against his neck. He was warm and, despite the powerful muscles that lay beneath his skin, he was soft, his body as comfortable as her bed.
“I love the smell and taste of garlic,” she confessed.
“Benefit of hooking up with a cook,” Luc teased.
She lifted her head as the slightest twinge of unease appeared. Hook up? Is that where this night was headed? For the first time in too many years, there was a small part of her that hoped for that end to the evening. Sadly, the desire wasn’t quite big enough to snuff out the genuine panic the thought provoked.
Luc studied her face and she decided then and there she’d never play poker with the observant men. “Not tonight,” he said, in response to fears she hadn’t verbalized. “Tonight we’re just cuddling. Getting to know each other. Okay?”
Again, she merely nodded, feeling like a complete idiot. She wore her inexperience like a rapper flashed his bling.
Luc responded to her quiet acquiescence the same way Diego had. He took it as if it were a gift. He placed his hands on her face and his lips against hers. Jeannette felt the gentle kiss all the way to her toes, her body tingling in an unfamiliar way. She was used to heat suffusing her face with blushes, but this time it felt as if every inch of her skin was flushing, on fire.
She wasn’t sure how long their lips touched, his kisses soft, exploratory, but Jeannette could have happily remained on that couch forever.
Then she felt Diego’s breath on the back of her neck as he leaned closer. He pulled her hair to the side, tucking it over her shoulder as his mouth brushed against the nape.
She shivered, but didn’t try to break the union. Luc continued to kiss her, his tongue tangling with hers playfully, his fingers stroking her face reverently.
Diego’s hands drifted lower as he firmly gripped her waist. He ran his lips along the back of her neck, the simple contact firing off nerve endings she didn’t know existed, electrical currents shimmering along her skin, causing her to quiver.
They moved slowly. There was a deliberateness to their motions. They were very much in control, neither man swept away by the intensity of the moment. Unlike her.
She was drowning in a sea of sensation, light-headed, breathless. Air was overrated.
Jeannette’s hands had remained unmoving on Luc’s shoulders throughout it all, but now they itched for more. She ran her fingers along the front of his button-down shirt. She hated the barrier, so she slipped one of the buttons free. Then another. And another.
She was moving on instinct. Impulse.
Luc pulled away when she opened the last button. His shirt hung open, allowing her an unhindered view of his perfect chest, a chiseled six-pack with only the lightest smattering of hair between his dark-brown nipples.
“Like what you see?” Diego whispered in her ear.
It was only then that she realized he’d stopped kissing her neck—and was enjoying the same peep show she was.
“Very much.” Jeannette glanced over her shoulder and spied Diego’s eyes resting on Luc’s chest. “You like it too,” she said, no question in her tone.
Diego’s forehead creased as he looked at her. “Jeannette…”
She wondered if he’d deny it. She had never heard any rumors about Luc and Diego being lovers because they’d apparently never shared that part of their relationship with anyone.
She held his gaze and let the silence linger. She wanted their trust more than she could even attempt to understand.
Finally, he nodded slowly. “Very much.”
She tilted her head. “Just looking?”
Diego gave her a crooked grin that lacked humor. “Going for the jugular, aren’t you?”
Luc cleared his throat, clueing her in to his discomfort with the direction the conversation had taken. “Tonight isn’t about us, Jeannette. It’s about you.”
“No,” she said, “it’s not. It’s about us. I’ll be perfectly honest with you. I have no idea where this thing between the three of us is going, or even if it can go anywhere.”
Diego scowled, his lips parting to disagree.
She cut him off before he could argue. Jeannette wasn’t ready to delve into her own issues, so she drove the subject back to the one thing she could handle talking about. Them.
“It doesn’t bother me,” she said, quickly adding more to make her meaning clear. “Your relationship with each other, I mean. It’s cool.”
Her quick admission caught Diego off guard. “Our relationship?”
He was testing the waters. She didn’t blame him for treading carefully. She was a master at keeping the walls in place, never revealing every card in her hand. “The two of you are together, aren’t you? Like a couple.”
Diego shook his head. “No. We’re not a couple.”
She frowned, wondering how she could have misread things so badly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought—”
“We’re together, Jeannette,” Diego continued, breezing over her apology. “Luc is my best friend. We’re closer than brothers. But it doesn’t work with just us. We want…we need more than just each other.”
“You need a woman,” she whispered, her mind whirling over what it would be like to belong to these two men. Her foolish, heedless heart wanted that job.
“Yeah,” Luc said, drawing her attention to him. “What we have right now isn’t enough. There’s something…someone…missing.”
Jeannette swallowed, but it was difficult since her throat had constricted.
Luc’s poker face wasn’t any better than hers. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that they both believed she was the missing part.
Temptation warred with reality. Jeannette was far too aware of her limitations, and while the idea of what they were offering dangled in front of her like her favorite dessert, there was no way she could go there. No fucking way.
Diego ran a gentle finger along the scowl line between her brows. “Stop thinking so hard. This isn’t going to move from zero to sixty. Tonight, we’re just making out on the couch. It’s not going to get any more complicated than that.”
A breathy snort escaped despite her unease. They had her number. Had a knack for knowing exactly what to say to make her relax. “You think making out with two guys at the same time isn’t complicated?”
Luc frowned. “You don’t like it?”
She shook her head. “Oh no. That’s not what I mean. The kisses are…” she flushed, then admitted, “really hot. It’s just kind of overwhelming.”
Luc and Diego shared a glance.
The wine she’d drunk with dinner hadn’t just loosened her inhibitions; it had worked some magic on her mouth too. “Can I watch the two of you kiss?”
Luc’s head reared back. “What?”
“I want to watch you. The way you watch when Diego kisses me.”
Something sparked in Luc’s eyes—and in Diego’s.
Anticipation combined with desire when she twisted, turned and leaned back. Jeannette remained between them, but with her back pressed against the couch, she’d provided plenty of space for the men.
It was a simple matter of Diego reaching across her for Luc. She wasn’t surprised that Diego took the lead. She’d been around them long enough to recognize Diego’s dominance. While Luc was far from submissive, his laid-back personality came shining through in this encounter.
She’d never seen two men kiss like this. Not once.
Jeannette hadn’t known what to expect or how it might make her feel, but her reaction to the embrace shook her to her very core.
The kiss was passionate, powerful, sexy as hell.
It triggered some very serious needs inside her. Her pussy was soaking, throbbing, and her nipples tightened. She struggled to take a deep breath, the air around them thick and humid. Part of h
er wanted to reach down to touch herself. Sexual need pulsed so intensely it was almost painful.
Somehow she managed to refrain. Embarrassment and fear were still the more powerful feelings.
Diego’s large hand wrapped around the back of Luc’s neck, holding him close as their lips devoured, their tongues stroked and twice Diego nipped at Luc’s lower lip, evoking a groan—maybe of pain, but also desire.
It was the most beautiful kiss she’d ever witnessed, and she was content to merely watch for several minutes. Then temptation—and too much wine—prodded, compelled her to lean forward.
The men had been so intent, so focused on each other, that she was surprised they’d seen her move. As one, they turned and somehow she was engulfed in their embrace, three faces sharing the close space.
Diego kissed her deeply as Luc dragged his tongue along the side of her neck. Then it was Luc’s turn, his lips on hers, while Diego used those teasing teeth to nip at her earlobe. When that kiss ended, Diego and Luc kissed each other again, but this time Jeannette refused to just observe. She placed soft kisses on Diego’s cheek, then Luc’s.
Over and over, they changed the pattern, explored different combinations, the kisses alternating between soft and starving, hot and gentle. Neither man sought to advance the play, their hands never drifting from her waist or her face.
She’d given them far too many hands-off signals in the past. They were clearly kind—and leery—enough to wait for an invitation. If only she could issue one.
After a thousand years, she pulled back, leaning against the couch in an effort to find some cooler air. Perspiration was trickling along her hairline, and she was lightheaded from the lack of regular breathing.
Diego and Luc followed her lead, pulling away in need of a respite.
“Wow,” she murmured when she finally had enough strength to speak.
Luc grinned. “That was fucking hot.”
She laughed lightly. “Yeah. It was.”
Diego didn’t seem to share their mirth, concern in his eyes. “You’re not freaked out?”
She raised one eyebrow. “Do I look freaked out?”
Luc rolled his eyes. “Diego has trouble accepting good things. I blame his fucked-up childhood. He always seems to think everything comes with a cost.”
Diego tilted his head in annoyance. “Thanks so much for the psychoanalysis, Dr. Kovach. I’ll be sure to pay your receptionist on my way out.”
Jeannette understood Diego’s concern. Hell, she’d suffered the same fear when she’d agreed to a date with both of them. Social norms made it difficult to accept something different as anything less than wrong or offensive. Polite society didn’t view ménages as anything less than kinky or weird. And while the legal tide was definitely changing in terms of homosexuality, there were still too many people in the world unwilling to accept that love didn’t see gender or color or—in their case—one too many people in the embrace.
“I think what you and Luc share is beautiful. I’m so touched that you were willing to show me. To include me.”
Just like that, the clouds cleared and Diego smiled. “You’re too good to be true.”
She snorted—the sound completely unladylike. “Yeah, right. Give it some time and I suspect you’ll reconsider that comment.”
Diego narrowed his gaze. “You really don’t want to put yourself down in front of me, Jeannette. It pisses me off.”
Though his face was dark, his tone deep, she didn’t feel a speck of fear. Neither of these men would ever hurt her. The longer she was in their presence, the deeper that conviction grew.
She reached up, cupping Diego’s cheek and placing a soft kiss on his lips. Unlike their previous make-out session, this was more friendly than passionate. More thanks than desire.
“Tonight was…” She couldn’t find a single word that would describe what the past few hours meant to her. “Perfect” didn’t even come close.
Luc nuzzled her neck, and then he slowly rose from the couch. Diego followed suit as they prepared to leave.
Luc reached down and she accepted his hand, allowing him to help her stand as well. “Tonight was just the first of many.”
Jeannette leaned against the front door after they left for a long time, letting herself consider something she’d never entertained before.
A future.
One that didn’t consist of just her…and her cat.
Chapter Five
Jeannette stared at the book in her hand and realized she hadn’t read a word since opening the damn thing. Instead she was daydreaming about two sexy firefighters.
Nope. “Daydreaming” was too mild a description. She was fantasizing. Dirty visions that were far too graphic and explicit for her usual PG—pathetically gloomy—lifestyle. It was making her hot and bothered and nervous as hell.
A week had passed since her second date with Luc and Diego. She’d seen them every single day since then as they stopped into the restaurant for a meal…or sometimes two. They’d sit at the counter and flirt with her, and several times they’d snuck back to the kitchen when she was cooking to steal a kiss or three—much to Sydney’s delight.
Her cousins enjoyed teasing her and her sudden about-face in regards to dating two men at the same time. Their joking was all done in good fun. The girls were thrilled that she was dating. She hadn’t realized how much they’d worried about her until this week, when they confessed delight over her new beaus.
“Forget it,” she muttered to herself, pulling off her glasses and turning off the bedside lamp. She clearly wasn’t reading tonight.
She lay down, but hadn’t even found a comfortable position when there was a loud crash outside.
Even through her closed eyes, she could sense the quick flash of light. Her bedroom was at the front of the house, overlooking the street. Her eyes flew open and she realized something had sparked brightly then flickered away.
Car accident? No. She’d heard no squealing tires or engines.
Her tired mind thought lightning, but she dismissed that idea too. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky all day and what she’d heard was clearly glass breaking.
“What the hell was that?” she said to Penny. Not that the cat replied. Or even moved. When Jeannette had crawled into bed an hour earlier to read, Penny had claimed her usual spot, stretched out next to her above the covers. Jeannette referred to her as her own personal purring, electric blanket.
She was about to dismiss the flash when she smelled it.
Smoke.
A second later, one of her detectors downstairs began to beep loudly.
“Shit!”
Jeannette leapt from the bed, threw on her glasses, grabbed her cell phone, and dialed 911 as she dashed downstairs. Distressed by the amount of smoke filling her living room, she rattled off her address to the operator and begged her to send someone quickly. Racing around her house, she tried to find the source of the smoke.
Nothing appeared to be on fire, but the air was now thick and hot, clogging her lungs and burning her eyes. Her heart thudded loudly from her mad dash around the house and raced with fear.
Crossing the kitchen, she started to open the door that connected her house to the garage, but she reared back as she touched the blistering doorknob. She’d found her fire.
Sirens sounded in the distance, but they were too far away to offer much hope. She knew enough about fire to keep the door between the garage and kitchen closed, but she was filled with the need to find some way to douse the flames before her whole house was consumed.
“Oh my God,” she cried out into the empty room as the blaze started to creep beneath the door. The words cost her and she coughed. She needed to get the hell out.
She darted back through the house in a panic. Should she put on clothes? Should she try to save some of her stuff?
Both thoughts vanished when she remembered Penny.
“Penny!” she yelled out for the cat, terror racing though her. She needed to find her kitty. She
recalled the cat coming downstairs with her, but she’d lost sight of her after that. Jeannette dashed around the living room, coughing, her vision blurred by tears produced by the thick smoke. Crawling on her hands and knees, she looked under a cabinet in the corner. It was one of Penny’s favorite hidey-holes and places to sleep. She thought she saw something move beneath, but it was too hard to tell in the dark.
The sirens were right outside now, but Jeannette didn’t rise. She had to get Penny first.
“Penny,” she choked out, her throat seizing, tight and sore. The bright lights of the fire truck brightened the room enough that she spotted Penny. The terrified cat burrowed deeper under the cabinet as the room was painted in an array of orange and red light from the fire. The blaze had reached the house and was spreading fast.
A loud bang distracted her as she glanced toward the front door. A firefighter in full regalia stood there. Jeannette wasn’t sure how she knew who it was, the man’s face was hidden behind the visor of his helmet, but she yelled out, “Diego!”
He spotted her in the corner and rushed over. “Goddammit, Jeannette. You have to get out of here.”
“Penny!” she cried, not rising from the floor even though her lungs felt as if they were about to burst.
“Jesus Christ. Get her out of here!”
She looked around Diego to find Luc there as well.
Diego reached down to pick her up off the floor. She put up a fight, determined she wasn’t leaving the house without Penny. “No!”
“I’ll get the cat,” Luc said. “Go!”
She stopped resisting. Her struggles hadn’t done her any good anyway. Diego was strong as an ox and focused on getting her out of the house.
“Penny,” she said between coughs. “Please. Penny.”
“He’ll get her, Jeannette. It’ll be okay.” Diego didn’t stop carrying her until they reached the fire truck. Then he opened the front door and placed her on the passenger seat. He’d clearly thought to keep her warm in the vehicle. It was early spring and the night was more than a little chilly. Not that she could feel any of that, thanks to the bonfire raging nearby. She was sweating, her skin flushed. It felt as if she’d gotten a sunburn.