by Davis, Jo
“No need, pretty lady.” Jason crawled up the foot of the bed on his hands and knees, then stretched out beside her, combing his fingers through her dark hair. Liv gasped as he started nibbling her neck, palming a breast in one hand and playing with the dusky nipple.
Alex watched, feeling better already about having Jason come over. Liv needed this, and so did he. He joined them, kissing a path down Liv’s tummy as Jason loved her breasts, nipping and grazing them with his teeth. Alex ditched his own shorts and moved between her legs, spreading her knees wide, and tongued her sweet little nub.
“Oh! God, yes . . . ”
She arched into him as he suckled the sensitive flesh, tasting the evidence of their earlier passion. Her scent and responsiveness to both of them shot straight to his groin. He laved her slit, driving her insane, and when he knew she was poised at the brink, he eased away and looked to Jason.
“She’s ready for you.”
His brown eyes widened. “Me? I thought—”
“Don’t keep the lady waiting,” he ordered, mindful of Jason’s preference for being dominated. “I expect you to make her scream while she comes.”
Nodding, Jason fisted his cock and crawled between her thighs, pumping his erection a few times before covering her. He guided the plum-shaped head to her opening and sank deep. Began to shaft her with long, sure strokes.
Liv splayed her hands on Jason’s back, holding him close, rising to meet him. Lost in the happiness of making love with him. Emotion clogged Alex’s throat and he found himself wanting to be a part of them.
From the bedside table, he grabbed the bottle of vanilla-scented oil he and Liv used sometimes. Vanilla? How ironic. Prize in hand, he moved behind Jason, smoothed a hand over his flank. The other man slowed his tempo, making it easier for Alex to spread his cheeks and dribble the oil in his crease.
Alex inserted two fingers into his entrance, probing, preparing. Jason moaned, backing into his hand with each slow withdrawal from Liv. Alex worked his channel a bit more, then dribbled oil on his own cock, making himself nice and slick. He wanted to give them a smooth ride.
Tossing the oil aside, he lined up and pushed his length into that tight hole. Sank all the way into the hot passage.
“God, yes,” he murmured, skimming a palm over Jason’s spine. “You feel so good. So right.”
“Damn, Alex, fuck me,” Jason rasped. “Do it.”
He did, gladly. Began to thrust, the forward motion sending Jason into Liv each time. The three of them established a rhythm, a perfect cadence, pumping faster and faster. Flying higher.
Alex’s balls tightened and he couldn’t hold back. He shot deep into Jason with a hoarse shout, filling him with his cum. His release triggered theirs, and Jason stiffened, rippling underneath him at the same time Liv cried out, clutching his back.
They remained locked together for some moments, letting the waves subside, floating down again. Alex withdrew first and flopped onto his back, content and sated. Happy with the world.
Jason did the same and snuggled on Liv’s other side, practically humming with joy. How could he not trust a man who appeared as carefree and uncomplicated as their lover looked right now?
“Spoon,” Alex said, pulling Liv’s back to his front. She, in turn, pulled Jason to her, and Alex couldn’t help but smile as he drifted off to sleep.
A Liv sandwich, with him and Jason as the buns.
Life didn’t get much better than this.
Liv smiled into her mug of coffee. Waking up squished between two hot men had been beyond her fantasies.
Being loved by both of them? Out-of-this-world orgasmic.
The fact that Alex had fetched Jason sometime after their talk—and enlisted the younger man to make love to her—warmed her inside. Dare she hope this was a gesture of acceptance on his part? A true acknowledgment of her needs and his own?
Patience. She blew out a resigned breath, wishing Alex wasn’t at work and Jason off to God knows where. Still, their absence gave her precious hours to think without all of that potent testosterone clouding her judgment. Alex had reservations about Jason, and rightly so. Bad shit was happening, and this bad shit coincided with their hunky new neighbor’s arrival in the city. The hunk with secrets and sad eyes, who was not forthcoming about his past.
Which in and of itself wasn’t unforgivable or altogether alarming . . . except that someone wanted Alex dead.
Her grandmother used to say the word coincidence was for natural disasters and damned idiots.
Setting her mug on the counter, Liv walked to the kitchen junk drawer and fished out the key Bill had given her years ago. The one Jason hadn’t asked to be returned.
The very idea of snooping in someone else’s home made her gut churn with guilt. Especially after last night.
The idea of her husband dying because of her own misplaced trust quelled it.
Before she could talk herself out of what she was about to do, Liv took the key, grabbed a fresh loaf of banana-nut bread wrapped in foil from the counter, and marched next door. Using an offering of food as a cover? Simple, but effective. Anyone watching, like the cop on the street, would see her knock. Wait. Then deliver the gift.
She figured she had five minutes, tops, before anyone became suspicious, but truthfully, she didn’t require even sixty seconds. She had her goal set. Go in, take a look, get out.
She followed her course, not letting herself in until she’d waited like a good neighbor. Once inside, she made a beeline straight for Jason’s office. She sat the bread on the corner of the desk and skirted it, pulse rushing in her ears, palms clammy. Lowering herself into the chair, she wondered how she’d explain herself if Jason caught her rifling through his personal effects.
He’d be disappointed, no doubt. Angry. Pissed enough to do bodily harm?
Someone’s trying to kill my husband.
Resolve fortified, she yanked open the top desk drawer, half expecting to find innocuous pens, pencils, and paper clips. Which is exactly what she found. Frowning, she shut the drawer. She could’ve sworn he’d shoved something in this desk he hadn’t wanted her to see.
She tried the top right-hand drawer, much deeper. And empty. What a bust.
She didn’t expect to find much in the middle one, either. Whatever she’d seen, he’d probably moved. Or her overactive imagination had made too much of it—
Wait. A legal pad lay in the drawer, upside down. Why put it in there that way, unless you wanted to hide it? Nerves jumping, she pulled out the pad, tugging a little because something heavy was sitting on top of it in the depths of the drawer.
She turned it over and stared at the hand-drawn pyramid for several seconds before the import reached her horrified brain.
Names. A lot of names, layered from the base to the top.
Alex. Olivia.
“Oh . . . oh, no.”
Jenna Shaw. Ken Brock. Kyle Murphy. Danielle Forney.
Me.
A helpless whimper escaped her throat.
Henry Boardman. Dmitri Baranov.
Palmer Hodge.
“Why? What’s going on here?”
Flipping through the pad, she saw nothing else was written inside, and replaced the damning thing just the way she found it. But when she did, the top edge of the pad bumped whatever had been sitting on it before. Bending down, she reached to adjust the item.
Her hand, her entire body, froze.
Cold black metal glinted there. Belonging to a gun big enough to blow someone’s brains to hell.
Many people owned guns. Few kept them stowed next to laundry lists for murder.
Liv slammed the drawer shut and fled the office without looking back. She locked the front, just as she heard Jason’s garage door hum in the back. Close. Too close.
Safely inside her house, she stood in the foyer, legs shaking, hand over her mouth. Somehow she wobbled to the phone and dialed. Left a message on Alex’s cell.
“Alex? Please, come home. I-I need you.”
Next, she left a message with Danielle, who said he was in an important meeting. Once again, disjointed pieces of earlier conversations with Alex went round in her mind. Threads from his confessions that might be, at last, forming into something tangible. She should’ve spoken with Alex before, and now she’d have to wait.
An idea struck, and she made another call, making a simple request of a puzzled Detective Lambert. She opted not to tell him what she’d found in Jason’s possession. Not yet. She needed to think.
Ten minutes later she had her answer, thanked the detective and huddled in a corner of the living room to ponder the implications of it all.
Only then did she remember the banana-nut bread she’d left perched on the corner of Jason’s desk.
Alex sped home, calling Liv from his cell phone and telling her to hang tight. She sounded upset. And today, of all fucking days, he’d let his bodyguard go; after a lot of thought, he decided one man—even a well-trained one—wasn’t going to stop a hit. Hell, they’d already gotten the drop on the man once. Next time, Ryan might not be lucky.
He could’ve used the guy now, but Liv insisted she wasn’t hurt. She just needed his ass home, pronto.
His car screeched to a stop in the garage and he tore inside. “Liv!”
“In here.” She rose from the sofa to meet him.
He gathered her into his arms, relieved that she seemed physically okay. “You’re trembling.”
“I have to talk to you. It’s important.”
“Yeah, I sorta got that part.” The levity didn’t work. “Come here, baby.”
Leading her to his favorite chair, he pulled her into his lap. He took her hands in his, rubbing them, concerned by the chill of her skin.
“Alex, he’s got a gun,” she whispered.
Alarmed, he glanced around, making sure they were alone. “Who, sweetheart?”
“Jason. I walked in on him hiding something the other day, and I got to thinking. I knew it was wrong, but I used my key when he was gone earlier, and there was this huge gun in one of the drawers.”
“Honey, lots of people have guns in the house. I have one in our bedroom closet, remember?”
“His was next to this.” From her front pocket, she dug out a folded square of paper. “I drew this just the way it was on the notepad in his desk.”
Taking the paper, Alex unfolded it and frowned at the pyramid. The names. He swore he actually felt the blood drain from his head. “My God. What the fuck is this? Some type of . . . laundry list?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but it’s a flowchart. And look—he put himself smack in the middle.”
“It doesn’t make any sense. Besides Jenna, how would he know of all the people in my office? Why are Boardman and Palmer Hodge on there?”
“He’s involved in what’s happening to you, somehow,” Liv said. “All of these names below Boardman’s are the people closest to you every day. And you know what’s really weird? They’re all people you’ve mentioned to me in your confessions.”
“The police and the FBI think Hodge has someone in my firm. It’s like Jason’s trying to figure it out, too,” he mused.
“Exactly! But he hasn’t been present for all of your confessions, and I have.” Pushing off his lap, she paced.
“I don’t see how a string of naughty bedtime stories, even true ones, could be important to anyone but you and me.”
Even as he said it he recalled Jenna’s strong negative reaction upon learning that he’d been sharing every detail of his encounters. What had she called it? A total rundown. Odd word choice.
“Let’s start with the fact that Jenna doesn’t have a sister.” She stopped pacing and crossed her arms over her chest.
“What?”
“According to Lambert, Jenna is an only child. The first time you were with her, she claimed she needed a ride home because her sister borrowed her car.”
“I—shit. She used that excuse again the other night at the club.”
“A simple lie. Something you’d never think to check . . . or perhaps weren’t expected to live long enough to question.”
“I can’t believe Jenna’s involved with killers,” he said quietly. No, because that would make him a victim of his own stupidity.
“Then let’s revisit the fact that you allowed a green junior partner to work on your biggest trial this year.” Her expression was grim. Earnest. “Be honest, Alex. Besides catering to your cock, why did you risk alienating everyone in the office? You could’ve fucked her without giving her the case. Why did you?”
“Because Kyle said . . .” He went numb.
“He pushed you to take her on, didn’t he? Just like he always pushes, and you caved, just like you always do when Kyle wants or needs something!”
“That’s not true.”
“What about when Bea retired? Who recommended this new secretary, Danielle?”
“All right, Kyle did. He thinks she’s hot, and she is, but she also does a good job. Not the brightest bulb in the box, but enthusiastic.”
“I’ll bet,” she muttered. Shook her head. “The point is, secretaries know everything. Bea was sharp, and you can bet she’d have gone to you the moment something smelled fishy in the office. You admitted Danielle isn’t so smart. Once again, Kyle’s suggestion.”
“No. I won’t believe he has anything to do with who’s after me. He’s my best friend, Liv.” He stood and walked to the window, knees watery.
“Whom you’ve bailed out financially time and again. He leans on you.”
“I’ve only lent him money twice, and he’s square. I asked again a couple of weeks ago, and he doesn’t need my help any more.”
“What convenient timing.” He felt her hand on his back. “And why is that, Alex? Why is he suddenly so financially solvent?”
He rounded on her. “Don’t. There has to be another explanation.” If there wasn’t, one of the biggest parts of his life had been a lie.
Liv’s pretty eyes softened. She understood. Knowing someone close to him had sold him out was bad enough, but for that person to be someone trusted and loved like a brother?
Getting over the betrayal would take a lifetime.
“Have you seen Jenna and any of the others talking together, more than might be expected?”
“Hell, Liv. Everyone speaks with everyone else on a daily basis. It’s a busy place, lots of clients coming in. But huddled in dark corners, whispering plots? That would be noticed.”
“Maybe. What about Ken? You said he was royally pissed about the whole thing with Jenna.”
“I’d hate to think it, but . . . Brock’s a possibility. He barely tolerates the sight of me. It’s so bad, if I wasn’t positive the second shooter was a stranger, I’d have to take a hard look at Brock. As it is, I think he’d sell me to the devil for fifty cents.”
“We need to call Detective Lambert and tell him all of this.” She walked into his outstretched arms, burrowed against his chest, seeking his warmth.
“Baby, we have to let him know about Jason, too,” he said softly. “Show him your drawing.”
Jason. What sort of man had they invited into their lives?
That would be the most painful betrayal of all. Because Liv loved him.
And so did he, in his own way.
“I know I was losing it when I called you—”
“I’ll say, and with good reason.” He kissed the top of her head.
“—but now that I’m calm and we’ve talked it over? I’m positive Jason’s on our side.”
“Liv . . .” God, he didn’t want to see her get hurt. Emotionally or physically.
“Yes, it looks bad, especially since he’s been so secretive about his past, but I’m a pretty good judge of character. At least I believe I am. He’s had it rough, Alex, and he’s here to lick his wounds. If he’s involved, there’s a good reason.”
Lick his wounds.
Hang on. A snippet of conversation teased his memory. A comment, in passing, Agent Campbel
l had made in Alex’s office. What was it?
Dammit, he couldn’t grasp the words.
Neither he nor Liv wanted to believe they’d been betrayed by people they cared about.
One of them was wrong.
“It’s just as well I’m home early,” he said, pulling back. “I need to go out tonight, but it’s not what you think. I just found out Boardman is having a private party, one of his risqué bashes, despite my strenuous protests. I need to go to keep an eye on my client and make sure he stays out of trouble.”
Liv stiffened. “Is Jenna going?”
“Yes, but we’re not attending together. In fact, since she’s the one who brought news of the party to me, I want to keep tabs on her, too. All things considered.”
“I don’t like this,” she said, rubbing her arms. “It reeks.”
“I’ll be careful, honey. Besides, I phoned Lambert, so he knows about it, too. He and Agent Campbell aren’t happy, either, so they’re going to slip someone on the inside as a precaution.”
“I still think something stinks, but if the cops are watching, that’s good.” Worry clouded her blue eyes all the same.
“I’ll be fine.” He tipped up her chin. “Will you be all right here? I mean, Jason—”
“I will. He’s not our enemy, Alex. I know it.”
“Don’t open the door for anyone while I’m gone. Including him.”
Oh, he knew that stubborn look. His wife didn’t take orders, never had.
“Tough shit.”
“So I see. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“I could do a lot of wicked things with my mouth. If you were staying home tonight to benefit from them.”
“I suppose I deserve that.”
“Yep, you do.”
“I love you.”
“Back at’cha, Counselor.”
Alex pulled her into his arms again and just held Liv for a long while. Clinging tight, a chill creeping into his bones.
How ironic it would be for them to find their way back to one another, only to lose in the eleventh hour.
The damned clock was ticking.
Fifteen
The afternoon melted into evening, the breeze perfect, the pool inviting. Liv had reconnected with her husband in these last couple of weeks, and life should have been good.