“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
“Dammit, Jubilee, why didn’t you call?”
She leaned back from him, pushing against his hold on her. “You told me not to call you unless I chose you. Only you.”
“That’s not exactly what I said.” Frustration, or maybe anger, tinged his words.
“It’s what you meant.” She was sure she hadn’t got that wrong.
He placed her hand against his chest and cupped her head. “Maybe I was—”
But he hesitated, and then it was too late. Keith was there, taking her hand. Taking her. She kept her gaze on Henry, though, wondering what he’d meant to say, until Keith moved her into a spin that took him from view.
When her eyes found Keith’s, she knew he’d been waiting. He touched his lips to hers. “You okay, sweetheart?”
Jubilee bit her lip, holding back a surprising urge to cry. She nodded.
“We’re enough for you, aren’t we? Brody and I?”
“Of course,” she said, feeling like a heel. “Of course.”
They both leaned forward a little, until their foreheads touched.
“It’s okay if you miss him. Brody and I do, too,” Keith said.
“Yes,” she told him. “I miss him. But I’m happy. Very happy.”
“That’s good, baby. Really good.”
* * * *
Brody always enjoyed the company of gamers, so he checked out the entertainment room wherever he found one. He typically spent about half of Henry’s New Year’s Eve parties downstairs in the game room.
Henry’s work group tended to be a smart bunch, and, as usual, Brody liked learning what games they enjoyed playing. So he stood in the doorway and watched for nearly an hour, just checking out what the guys—and handful of girls—found interesting on Henry’s various systems. But the old-timers at the party knew him well enough to guess he had a couple tricks up his sleeve, so soon he was taking over different controllers and showing them a few hidden codes, keys, and combo moves.
Then, with a little more persuasion, he introduced them to his most recently developed game, pre-market.
The game was good, and, in another setting, he might have spent the whole of the party down there, seeing how this sophisticated group took to it. They were his favorite demographic.
But it was close to midnight, he had a girl upstairs, and he just wasn’t that much of a nerd.
He found Jubilee snuggled with Keith on a love seat, picking at a plate of little desserts. But there was music and dancing, and so he took her hand and pulled her into his arms. Keith frowned but sat back like he might enjoy watching the show.
Henry frowned, too, but he was across the room talking with some of his lab buddies, acting like he wasn’t paying any attention.
He’d never make a go of it on the stage.
Back in the day, before Janie Connors was compelled to let her children out into the great big world of public high school, she enrolled them in a bunch of activities that were meant to make up for the fact that homeschooling had few options for extracurricular pursuits. So he’d had dancing lessons and even, God save him, ice-dancing lessons.
So he knew his way around a dance floor, and for that, he had his mother to thank. He’d never appreciated it as much as he did this night, when he took the lovely Jubilee Reynolds into his arms and held her close.
Well, except for the fact that a hockey skate followed the ice-dancing instruction, and so history had been written there.
On both counts, he made a mental note to thank Janie Connors again.
And, that done, he put all his attention on the woman in his arms. He could have held her in a correct dance position, because Lord knew he knew it, but she was Jubilee, and all hot in her sexy dress, and so, of course, he didn’t. The music had a little salsa beat that made him place her hands on his shoulders and his on her hips, and they boogied it out.
She smiled happily as they cut up and then molded sweetly to him when the music slowed. If he faced the right direction, he shared a satisfied look with Keith. When he caught Henry in his line of sight, he made it a point to slide his hands down from Jubilee’s hips to her ass and find her lips with his.
The guy had made his bed, and he could lie in it. All alone. Or with whatever second-rate chick he wanted to take as his consolation prize. Because, when he could have Jubilee, the others were all second-rate.
In her heels, she could see over his shoulder, too. He figured she made eyes at Keith, but he sensed her tense a bit when Henry came into her view.
She was hurting, no doubt, just as he and Keith were. Maybe Henry, too, but the man had the power to fix it for all of them, so Brody had no sympathy for him.
Well, maybe a little. He loved the guy, after all. If he would just get over himself.
And then he stopped thinking about it, because he had Jubilee in his arms, the lights were way down low, and the couples still on the dance floor were taking advantage of the intimacy of it far more than he was.
“Baby?” he said.
“Hmm?”
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Sure.”
Brody grinned. “Anything?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He used his lips at her temple to nudge her head up from his shoulder. He lost the grin and looked into her eyes, dead serious. “I want you to go to the bathroom and bring me back your panties in your hand.”
Heat flared in her eyes. Or maybe it was embarrassment. Either way she stood up to it, checking his gaze as she considered. When he lifted a brow, she took a step away. “Be right back.”
He leaned his shoulders against one of the windows that comprised the wall along the length of the deck. In his head, he worked out some of the changes in his game that had come to mind as he’d watched the play downstairs, because, if he started thinking about what Jubilee was doing at the moment, he wouldn’t be able to hide his boner even in the dim light.
Brody had intent eyes on as she came back to him. He put his hand out, palm up, when she was still a stride away, deliberately precluding her from discreetly slipping him the goods. She stopped, took his measure, and, spiking up her own brow, put her hand out several inches above his, opened her fingers, and dropped a snippet of white lace. He caught it, grinned, and held it, palm open, admiring his girl. The tiny scrap of fabric wouldn’t have gotten in his way in the least. Still, it was the principle of the thing.
He looked over and winked, making sure Keith had caught the gist of things before he flexed his fingers and slid her little undies into his pocket. By a hair, he refrained from taking a blatant sniff of them.
His spectacular woman held his gaze as he closed the distance between them. He lifted her hands to his shoulders again and brought her in. With his right hand he took a good grip on her ass and, when he had her nice and secure, he positioned them so his left hand would be toward the window, hidden to the room, reached under her dress, and put his fingers on her clit.
Watching her face, he had to guess his actions didn’t come as a surprise to her. She met his eyes squarely, even with a hint of challenge. But he made her flinch just a bit when he slid his middle finger farther along and pushed it into her cunt.
“You’re already wet, baby.”
Her pupils had dilated and her gaze maybe wavered some, but she still looked back at him. “You make me…hot.”
“Good to hear,” he said. He used two fingers and fucked her with them for several strokes. By that time, she was kind of losing it. He ran his right hand up her spine to her head and pressed it her into his shoulder.
Moving their feet just the barest bit that still could be called dancing, he went back to her clit. He massaged her there gently. She breathed into his neck, her body tensing with the pleasure he was giving her.
Brody nodded when Keith walked up beside them. That one leaned back against the window and waited while Brody danced Jubilee around so her back was to the window right alo
ngside Keith. Jubilee gave a little moan, leading Brody to assume that Keith’s fingers had found their way up that sexy slit in the back of her dress. When her moan came at a lower, earthy pitch, he figured they’d found their way into some interesting spaces. He listened to her moan. Fingers in her pussy, he gathered, thumb in her ass.
Taking advantage of a serendipitous uptick in Henry’s playlist, they made their girl come while AC/DC shook it all night long. The music got loud, and so did the small crowd. Jubilee flexed her hips, rocking to the beat and working herself against her lovers, and didn’t put a lot of effort into suppressing the sounds of her orgasm.
Midnight came, and the host of the party made sure everyone had a glass of champagne in hand. As a group, they counted down. When the ball dropped, Jubilee still stood with Keith and Brody, held close and managing to kiss both of them within the first few seconds of the year.
Henry, surrounded by revelers, stood alone, watching.
* * * *
Jubilee sat in the middle again, of course, on the way home. She was very aware that her panties were still in Brody’s pocket. Or, possibly not, because, before they’d left the party, she’d caught Brody with a significant smirk on his face and his hand in that very pocket, coming down the stairs that must have led to Henry’s bedroom. She thought Brody might have performed the equivalent of turn-down service, placing something different than a chocolate on Henry’s pillow.
The three had agreed to spend the rest of the holiday at her place. On their way out of Keith’s, the guys had each tucked an overnight bag behind the front seat of Brody’s pickup, along with her roller bag.
They’d ducked out of the party shortly after midnight. Jubilee suspected several of the partygoers would find a place to camp out at Henry’s since a significant about of alcohol had been consumed. But neither she nor Keith had drunk much, and Brody hadn’t had more than just the champagne toast.
Once Brody had initiated their leave-taking, Henry had walked with them up the steps of his entryway. While Keith helped her into her luxurious coat, Brody stepped up to give Henry that hand-grasp, man-hug deal. “Happy New Year,” he said. “I love you, buddy.”
A silent nod was the only acknowledgment from Henry. Keith gave him the same hug, speaking quietly enough to him that Jubilee couldn’t hear. Henry nodded again, his lips forming a mild frown.
Keith and Brody stepped toward the door while Henry’s gaze turned to her. Jubilee really couldn’t find words to say, but, when he lifted his hands, she stepped into his arms. They held each other, their cheeks touching, for a long minute. Henry made no motion to end it, nor was there any signal of impatience from behind her. Finally, Jubilee slid her arms down Henry’s until she reached his hands, gave them a squeeze, lifted them from her waist, and stepped back.
Without a word or even a nod from him, she turned and left.
In the truck, Brody had asked Keith what he’d said to Henry.
“I told him to stop being an asshole.”
They all laughed at that, a kind of release of tension that alleviated the sadness she knew they all felt at leaving their friend.
Jubilee kicked out of her heels with a sigh of relief and, like magic, Keith reached into the back and brought forward a pair of soft, furry, Manitobah mukluk boots. He lifted her feet and slid her into them. “Brody, again?” she asked.
“Yep,” Keith answered.
“Thank you, Brody,” she said.
“Yeah, baby.” Brody’s drawl made her want to climb into his lap and snuggle.
She felt his fingers slide inside the fur at her calf, like she and the boot were making a warm muff for him. “My mother still calls me ‘baby’ sometimes.”
“She has the right of it,” he said.
“Lucky for you,” she told him. “Otherwise, I’d probably have to take offense at your diminutive pet name for me.”
“You know there’s nothing diminutive in how I think about you.” He looked at her slyly. “Right, baby?” He waited for her smile. “Plus, you gotta admit, there are some circumstance were ‘Jubilee’ just takes too damn long to say. Know what I mean, Keith?”
“You mean, like, when what you have to say is, ‘fuck me, baby’?”
“Exactly. ‘Fuck me, Jubilee’ is a bit cumbersome. And less to the point. Yeah?”
“Suck me, Ju-bi-lee.” Keith dragged out all three syllables of the name, like a guy might be expected to lose the urge by the time he got to the end of it.
Brody snorted. “Harder, Ju-bi-lee.”
“Faster, Ju-bi-lee.”
“Swallow, Ju-bi-lee.” Brody made her giggle, yawning as he said it, as though he’d be getting bored or forget what he was about.
“Ass-fuck me, Ju-bi-lee.”
“Bite me, both of you,” Jubilee put in, but Brody was distracted.
“Wait,” he said, looking across her to Keith. “You want her to fuck your ass? How’s that go?” He sounded like he really wanted to know.
“No, dude,” Keith said. “I want her to fuck me with her ass.”
“Ah, well. That sounds…excellent. Ju-bi-lee.”
“Shut up.” She whapped both of them at their arms. But they were laughing, and they weren’t done, either.
“I could probably manage Jubi-baby,” Keith offered.
Brody waggled his head, considering. “Bay-bi-lee, maybe.”
Keith wasn’t laughing anymore. He was looking at her seriously, drawing attention to the fact that his fingers were on her bare thigh now, well up under her dress. “I have an idea to help you get comfortable with it,” he said. “For the next few minutes, I want you to say everything I say. Got it?”
Jubilee was suspicious, of course, but she was seduced by that intent glitter in his eyes. And by the way he’d opened her coat and brought her right breast out of the bodice of her dress. “Okay.”
He kissed her and strummed her nipple until it was hard. “Say, ‘baby, I need your fingers on my clit.’”
Brody was all ears, glancing over when his eyes could leave the road. “Nice,” he said, his gaze on her. Then he prompted her. “Bay-bi-lee?”
She huffed out a breath and leaned back against the headrest. In for a penny… “Baby, I need your fingers on my clit.”
“Sure, sweetheart.” Keith was turned in his seat enough that he could keep a pinch on her nipple while he used his other hand to lift her dress out of the way. Then he touched her in that knowing, unerring way all of her men seemed to have.
“Oh,” she said.
“Oh, baby,” Keith instructed.
“Oh, baby.”
He rubbed her and pinched her. She felt Brody’s hand on her left thigh, opening her more—and keeping her open, his hand firm there.
Keith was very skilled.
“Oh,” she murmured again. But she amended it when he gave a rough reminder at her nipple. “Oh, baby.”
“Lift up a little,” Keith told her. “And say this. ‘Brody, baby. I need your finger up my ass.’”
With a little whimper, she complied, with both action and words.
Brody was all in. He palmed her ass, giving her an encouraging pat, and stuck his middle finger in. It was dry and the chafe caused a stirring, edgy sensation.
“Oh,” she said again, and then didn’t need a reminder. “Oh, baby. That’s so good.”
They both worked her, those hot, skilled fingers driving her up. She moaned with every breath.
“‘Finger me, fuck me harder, baby. I need to come.’”
Those were Keith words, and she barely heard them, but she repeated them. Then she took it a little further on her own. “Faster, baby,” she said.
But still, she was coached. “‘Faster, Keith, baby.’”
“Keith,” she panted. “Baby. Faster. Harder. “
Brody didn’t want to be left out. He made his feelings known by reaming her ass, using two fingers now. “Baby,” she moaned. “Brody. Ow. Good, baby. Ow.”
“‘I’m going to come, baby.�
�” Keith was at her ear, still tutoring. He had to say it a second time before she took her cue and repeated it.
Then she was on her own, shuddering and crying out. “Baby, I’m coming. Baby!” She arched, her feet pressed onto the truck floor and her pelvis thrusting up. Her ass squeezed down on Brody’s fingers as she chanted, “Baby, baby.” Keith shoved his fingers into her cunt, finishing her off with his thumb on her clit.
“Ahh,” she wailed. “Baby. Baby. Ooh!”
In the end, she grasped both their wrists to still them. They cooperated that much, halting their movements, but they didn’t give up the territory they’d claimed. She settled back onto the seat, those fingers making themselves known.
“See,” Keith pointed out. “That works, right?”
Jubilee didn’t have the energy to roll her eyes.
Chapter Thirteen
Keith was ready for some serious fucking. Jubilee had been gone for more than a week, he and Brody had spent the evening watching her in that hot, barely-there dress, and then they’d listened—okay, and drove her on—as she’d come apart in the truck, hollering “baby” at them all the way.
When they got to her house, Keith grabbed his bag, took her hand, and led her right upstairs. Brody, always quick to catch on, was right behind them. Keith walked around the room, flicking on the fireplace and lighting a couple of the candles she kept there. He kept his eyes on her as he did it.
Brody already had her out of her coat.
“Slip that dress off,” Keith instructed, “if you want to wear it again.” If she left it to him, he was pretty sure he’d shred it.
She did what he asked, working the complicated hooks and hidden zipper he wouldn’t have had the patience for. Then she stood naked except for the goofy boots Bro had gotten for her. He kind of wished she was still in those heels she’d worn earlier, but somehow the boots managed to turn him on. Well, her pretty, naked body in them managed it, anyway.
Nonetheless, with her gaze on Keith, she steadied herself on Brody’s arm and tugged the boots off.
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