by Sami Lee
She had to get a hold of herself. She was falling over some frightening precipice into a dark unknown, a place where she would no longer be the person she’d always thought she was. Emily knew it all, but couldn’t tear her mouth away from Jet’s. Couldn’t deprive herself of the glorious sensations his soft lips and talented tongue evoked, even though what was happening was wrong. On so many levels, it was wrong.
“Jet,” she murmured into his mouth, struggling to voice her beliefs when her body wanted to betray them. “This is…”
“I know, hon. But you taste so damn good.”
He’d put some distance between their mouths in order to talk, but he couldn’t seem to control his need to nibble at her lips. The sensual scrape of his teeth on her soft flesh made Emily’s clit pulse against the rough denim of her jeans. She couldn’t help imagining how Jet’s tongue and teeth would work at the juncture of her thighs. Brand lavished as much attention there as a woman could ever need, but he was gentle and careful, as he always was with her.
Would Jet use his teeth on her swollen lips? On her clit?
“Oh, God.”
Misinterpreting her exclamation as one of shame, Jet at last drew back, making a clear attempt to break their connection. “I know. I’m sorry, Em.”
“You’re sorry? It’s not all you.”
Emily fell back against the couch, panting. Jet’s gaze dropped from her no-doubt-swollen mouth to her chest, which rose and fell with her violent breaths. Beneath his scrutiny, her nipples thrust more prominently against her thin white singlet.
Jet groaned. “It’s mostly me. You’ll have to excuse me, it’s been a while.”
“Really?” Emily asked in surprise. She couldn’t imagine Jet having trouble finding sexual partners.
His lips twitched. “I mean it’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman.”
“Oh.” Considering all that had just occurred, Emily took a moment to remember that Jet was the same man she’d found kissing her boyfriend with such abandon. That he liked men as well as women. “I guess you’ve proven you’re not gay. You’re…”
“I’m bi, Em. Just like Brand.”
Just like Brand. Her boyfriend was bisexual. She had a bisexual lover. Perhaps that wasn’t the end of the world, after all. Yes, she wished Brand had been honest with her from the start. That was an issue she needed to address with him. But as long as his attraction to her was real, what did it matter if he’d been drawn to men in the past?
It didn’t matter… As long as it was in the past. Emily looked over at Jet, at that sinfully handsome face and the sensual aura he seemed to possess. Could anyone resist him? She hadn’t been able to.
What about Brand?
“You’d better close your shirt.”
Jet’s abrupt instruction jolted Emily from her thoughts. “Excuse me?”
“I said it’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman, so I’m a mite tetchy.” He let his gaze drop meaningfully to her chest. “I’d give my right arm to bury my face in your tits right now, so you’d better close your shirt before I rip it off.”
She saw from the tautness of his jaw and the feral glint in his dark eyes that he meant what he said. Emily was ashamed to admit the threat aroused her more than it inspired caution. But she pulled herself together—and her shirt too, before they did anything else they had to feel guilty about.
She’d cheated on Brand. No, she and Jet hadn’t had sex but they’d made out like they wanted to. All Brand and Jet had done was kiss, and she had felt betrayed. How would Brand feel if he knew what had happened here?
Figuring she would find out soon enough, Emily fastened the snap buttons on her shirt with shaking fingers. Then she reached for the jacket she’d tossed over the back of the couch. “I guess I’d better go.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“You drank that wine pretty fast. There’s a good chance you’re over the limit.”
Emily bit her lip, realizing he was right. She had no idea how much wine she could have without tipping her blood-alcohol level over the legal limit, but she was pretty sure it was less than what she’d drunk. She could walk it off of course, go for a coffee until she sobered up.
Jet reached over and took hold of her hand. “You’ve had a hard few days. You’re upset and confused, and it’s getting dark. Brand would kill me if I let you drive home in this condition. Let me take you.”
“Brand might kill you anyway.” Emily smiled faintly at the joke.
“You’re going to tell him,” Jet concluded.
Emily nodded. “I can hardly condemn him for his lack of honesty, and then commit the same sin.”
“Then I should definitely be with you. Let’s go.”
They drove in silence for most of the way. Strangely it wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet. They’d just made out like a couple of horny teenagers, but there was no awkwardness between them. Emily relaxed into the passenger seat of her four-wheel drive and watched the passing scenery, the gray sky darkening to the charcoal tones of twilight and turning the ocean to a vast inky expanse. An unnamed tension that had been balled up inside her slowly unraveled as the miles passed.
Somewhere deep down she must have been waiting for the other shoe to drop in terms of her relationship with Brand. Now she had a veritable shoe store scattered around her, but at least it meant something would have to happen. Brand might think he could move on from his kissing Jet as though it hadn’t taken place, but he wouldn’t ignore her doing it. Good or bad, this would force her and Brand to make some decisions about their relationship.
Jet drove onto the ferry that separated Kingston Vale from the town of Billings, which was the main shopping hub for people from all the smaller towns nearby, like Leyton’s Headland. Emily let out a derisive chuckle. “I think I owe you an apology.”
“What for?”
“I used you.”
Jet matched her laugh. “I’m not complaining. Except to say maybe you should have used me a bit more.”
“Oh God.” Emily shook her head. “Could this be weirder? We’re laughing.”
“I gave up thinking I could decide what was weird and what wasn’t years ago.”
Jet winked at her and got out of the car to pay the ferry driver. When he got back in, Emily carried on the conversation. “Do you think we’re so comfortable together because of Brand?”
“Who are you calling comfortable?”
Jet shifted in his seat, giving the front of his jeans a tug to make his point. The act made Emily hyperaware of her own remnant arousal, which was pulsing insistently through her pussy. Her cheeks grew hot. “I meant having Brand between us gives us something in common.”
“Having Brand between us…” Jet trailed off on a groan. “Talk like that is not helping.”
Emily hadn’t meant they literally had Brand between them, but now that Jet had voiced the possibility her imagination went into overdrive. So many pictures flashed through her mind she couldn’t process them. All she knew was the soft pulsing between her legs became a hard throbbing that made her panties damper.
No way could she help wriggling in her own seat. The ache inside her was too intense. Emily felt the heat of Jet’s gaze on her. “Em… Jesus. You’re gonna kill me before Brand can.”
“I’m sorry.” Immediately, she corrected herself. “No I’m not. I can’t help how you feel, or how I feel. When I saw you two kissing… Yes, I was devastated. But I was also… God, Jet. I was aroused by it. I may have kissed you to get back at Brand, or to blow our relationship wide open. Or I may have done it to find out if kissing you would be as exciting as watching you do it to someone else. I don’t know. All I know is that I liked it. No, I loved it. But I want to be with Brand. I love Brand. How does that make any sense?”
“It makes perfect sense. You want the love of your life to make o
ut with the mysterious best friend for your viewing pleasure. Congratulations, you’re now a dude.”
Emily was sure Jet had tried for a glib tone, but his voice was far too husky to achieve it. She smiled. “Actually, I’m pretty damn sure I’m a woman.”
“Believe me, so am I.” His glance encompassed her from head to toe. It was enough to make Emily’s blood sizzle. “I’m also sure you’re playing with fire, talking to me like this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not one to sit on my hands and I might do something about it.”
That’s what I’m counting on.
Her own thought shocked Emily into silence. A moment later the metallic creak of the ferry’s ramp being lowered filled the air, and the gate opened so they could drive off.
Emily’s palms turned damp as the distance between them and Mulholland Homestead shortened. Was she really thinking what she was thinking? Could it actually happen the way she pictured it or was she kidding herself?
She must be out of her mind. Out of her mind with arousal, maybe. She’d never felt this turned on in all her life.
And if Brand walked out on her after she made her admissions, she might end up with no way to alleviate the situation.
Brand was going out of his mind.
It was dark and Emily hadn’t come home. She’d said she needed to get away and he was trying to respect that, but not calling to tell him she’d be late wasn’t like her. By now he was desperate to know she wasn’t lying unconscious in a ditch somewhere.
Or worse.
Brand ran a hand over his hair as though the act could erase the thought from his mind. Her losing track of time or her phone battery going flat were more likely outcomes than her being dead. But his life had never followed the path of ordinary or likely. He knew better than anyone that people died all the time.
Like his mother. He’d come home from school to find her in bed. So many times he’d come home and she’d be asleep, or passed out more like it. But that day, somehow he’d sensed she wasn’t merely asleep even before he approached the bed and saw the needle, saw her wide-open eyes and the gray pallor of her face.
Then years later, his father. Boyd Walker had been shot and left to die in a drug deal gone wrong. And of course in Afghanistan the fun times had continued. With what he’d already been through, Brand had figured he could handle anything. He’d been wrong.
In Brand’s life losing people suddenly and violently was the norm. Now, he couldn’t shake the sense of impending doom. The what if scenarios flickered through his brain like a horror movie montage that cast Emily as the star.
Brand paced the living room, using the physical exercise to work off the stress. On the rug by the door, Gus and George studied him, their heads moving from side to side like they were watching a particularly riveting tennis match.
Brand ceased his pacing long enough to bend down and give them both a scratch behind the ears. “She’ll be back soon.”
He said it as much for his benefit as for theirs.
Five minutes later, when Brand thought his brain might be about to explode with his racing thoughts, the shine of headlights coming down the driveway made him halt his pacing. In the evening gloom, he could just make out the shape of a white four-wheel drive as it parked alongside the house. It was Emily’s car.
So her car hadn’t broken down or been in an accident. She was fine. Immense relief was swiftly followed by anger. She was late because she hadn’t cared enough to call him. Was she punishing him? Rage gripping him, Brand yanked open the front door and stormed out to the yard, Gus and George skipping along beside him.
The car had activated the sensor lights that rimmed the house, so Brand could clearly see Emily climb out of the passenger side. The fact she wasn’t driving registered only dimly as his fury took precedence. He stalked toward her, abruptly grabbing her by the shoulders. “Where the hell have you been?”
Her eyes rounded in shock as she stared up at him. “What the…”
“I’ve been going crazy here, Emily. I expected you back before dark.”
Her brows drew down over her eyes, which suddenly appeared less shocked than irritated. “I told you I was going out.”
“I had no idea where you were.”
Again with the irritation. “I’m a grown woman. You don’t own me. If I feel like getting away—”
“For Christ’s sake!” He cut off her ridiculous reasons, shaking her slightly in his frustration. “I thought you were dead!”
Irritation moved right back to shock again. She stared at him, wide eyed. “What?”
Heat crept up Brand’s neck as he realized how crazy he sounded. Remorse followed when he noted how he held on to Emily’s shoulders. She looked hunched up and uncomfortable. His fingers were biting into her flesh. He’d shaken her.
Another flash of memory came back to him, of how his father used to treat the women in his life, the women he thought he owned. A shake here, a slap there, a little pressure to the throat when they were unruly. The best way to keep them in line, he’d said.
Horrified at the undeniable comparison between that past and his present, Brand abruptly removed his hands and backed up. Emily took a step forward and reached for him. Brand moved out of the way, too afraid to touch her. Undeserving of the right to touch her. “Brand?”
“Forget it,” he said, his voice flat now as he tamped down the memories and the unwanted emotions. “You’re here now.”
“Brand, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be so worried.”
“It’s all right.”
It wasn’t all right. His pulse rate remained sky-high, and the tension in his gut could pulverize rocks. But he’d deal with that later. Right now he had to stop scaring Emily. The thought that his bluster might intimidate her… It was too appalling.
He spoke carefully, neutrally so he wouldn’t be tempted to yell again. “You didn’t have car trouble, so what happened?”
She looked abashed. “I had a bit too much to drink.”
“With who?”
“With me.”
In the whirlwind of crazed fury, Brand hadn’t given the driver of the car a thought. Now he stared in disbelief at the man rounding the front of the vehicle.
Jet. Why in hell had Emily been drinking with Jet?
“Don’t blame Em. I gave her the wine.”
Brand’s pulse spiked again at the way Jet used the shortened version of Emily’s name. Or maybe it spiked because Jet was within five feet of him. With all the emotions swirling inside him, it was hard to tell. “She hardly ever drinks wine. What were you trying to do—get her drunk?”
Jet raised the sardonic eyebrow that had always driven Brand crazy. “She asked for a drink and I’m a gracious host.”
“Host?” He wasn’t yelling now, but his voice sounded steely even to his own ears. “She was in your hotel room?”
“It’s an apartment, actually,” Emily chimed in. “And I’m a grown woman with my own mind. I had a drink because I needed one.”
Brand swung his gaze back to Emily. She was wearing that aggravated expression again. “I know you’ve got your own mind. I want to know what it was thinking when you decided to get piss drunk with my ex—”
He cut himself off, but Emily filled in the blank. “Your ex-boyfriend. Is that the word you’re looking for?”
Brand cast a glance between Emily and Jet, seeing that both their expressions were set in hard lines. As though they were ready to call him out if he denied it. Not that there would have been any point doing that now. The cat had sprung out of the bag days ago.
He pushed out a rough sigh. “I was going to say ex-lover but that’s close enough.”
Jet let out a scoff that had Brand swinging his gaze back that way. “I’m not surprised you’d choose lover. Boyfriend sounds all commitment-like.”
&nb
sp; “You will never stop busting my balls about that.”
Jet smiled wolfishly. “I like doing things to your balls.”
A heat that had nothing to do with discomfiture crept over Brand’s skin. The balls in question tightened and his cock stirred. Would he never be free of the effect Jet Durante had on him? Not even now, when he was in love with someone else?
The thought had his gaze tracking back to Emily. He expected to find her distressed or angry by his exchange with Jet. Instead she appeared merely curious.
Well, not merely curious. It was more intently curious, as though she was hanging on their every word. Her eyes were round as saucers, her pupils huge within their circumference of green. Her lips were slightly parted and her breathing seemed rapid.
Maybe she was still distressed by the way he’d greeted her. But Brand couldn’t escape the impression she was turned on.
What the fuck?
Suddenly, Emily said, “We should go in.”
Brand let out a breath, glad he was going to be alone with Emily so they could talk. They hadn’t talked enough, and he’d meant what he’d said earlier that day when he’d promised to answer her questions. It had scared the shit out of him to make the offer, but he’d done it. He didn’t have to tell her all of it—some things he didn’t want her to have to know—but he could talk enough that she might understand. That she might let him into her arms again, the only place he’d felt calm in…possibly ever.
He turned to head toward the house, placing his hand on Emily’s back. He couldn’t have been more surprised when she looked back at Jet. “Are you coming or what, driver?”
“Of course, milady.”
Brand’s hand flexed on her back. Quietly, he said, “Em, I think we need to talk.”
“You’re right, we do.” Emily held his gaze, the determination in hers clear even in the dim light. “All three of us.”
The bottom dropped out of Brand’s stomach. She wanted him to share a room with her and Jet? Christ. One pissed-off lover at a time was plenty for him to deal with. “Not a good idea, Em.”
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea or not. It’s happening.”