by Liz Crowe
“And besides,” Rene said, her eyebrows raised over her glass, “from what I hear, Ross Hoffman is looking to make a move.”
Evelyn blinked fast, wondering if these women knew what she did about Austin and Ross’ playboy history together. “What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?” She rose, legs a little wobbly, and shouldered her purse.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Rene said, barely concealing a smirk.
“Oh, stop being obtuse,” Kim demanded, leaning forward with something a hair shy of a leer. “I hear Austin and Ross make a killer BOGO.”
“A…what?” But she knew, of course. What shocked her was that other people did, too.
“Don’t be a bitch.” Rene smacked Kim on the arm. “Seriously, hon, get your ass out of here. Marry Austin. Hire Hoffman as brewmaster. Enjoy…life.”
She felt a sudden and immediate urge to be back in Austin’s arms. To reunite, to apologize and make amends. She owed him big-time. The desire for his embrace and his lips had nearly choked her. “I should go. Austin is…” The two women had exchanged a knowing look.
“Seriously. Go, go.” Rene had waved her off. “I’ve got this. See you tomorrow at the awards.”
“Oh, and, Evelyn?” Kim said with a wide grin. “Do tell us how it works out with…them.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her face hot with imagination and anticipation. Kim elbowed Rene in the side and the two women waved at her, a knowing glint in their eyes.
By the time she’d exchanged texts with him, desperation to see him had made her breathless. Sinking back into the pedi-cab seat, she’d white-knuckled her fingers, the sparkle from her engagement emerald hitting her eyes, accusatory somehow. She loved him so much and needed to prove it. Tonight.
The restaurant where he’d said he’d be was packed, so she’d sat at the bar, ordered a beer and sent him a text, frowning when it didn’t go through. Too many people clogging up the network, no doubt. She’d sipped and tried to compose her words. Because she had to tell him everything. She wanted no secrets between them, no matter how illicit and fantasy-driven. She had to confess her ongoing dreams about the mysterious Ross before she agreed to set a wedding date.
When her scalp tingled with a ‘someone’s watching’ sensation, she glanced over and caught the eye of the tallest, handsomest Viking of a man she’d ever seen. His thick, dark-blond hair was tied back with a strip of dark leather. A light red, neatly trimmed beard covered his square jaw. He smiled straight at her, as he carried on a conversation with someone across from him, someone just out of her line of vision.
She turned back to the bar, her head humming with likely too much booze and the image of the guy ogling her—the guy she now recognized as the tall, handsome stud who’d been driving her darkest, most erotic dreams. Her hands twisted together in her lap. She fiddled with the strap of her purse, with her sunglasses, the tasteful drop earrings Austin had given her a few weeks ago.
This was her own damn fault. She’d asked Austin what it meant, how it felt, how it worked, for Christ’s sake. How they’d fuck her, together, between them. Her scalp tingled and she chanced another peek over her shoulder.
The man who’d been her husband’s close friend and confidant, his partner in female conquests, and the now populated her most fevered fantasies, was sitting across a busy bar, in Denver, fucking, Colorado. That was him, in all his tall, blond, bearded, tempting glory. He was staring at her, his cornflower blue eyes sparkling with a kind of mischief and more than a touch of flirtation. She turned away fast, so fast her hair whapped her in the face, making her eyes sting. Or at least something made her eyes sting.
Dear God. What was she going to do now? Where in the hell was Austin?
Her phone dinged and she stood, looking for the one face she needed to see more than anything. When she spotted him, her knees got wobbly, mainly because he was standing at the table where Ross still sat, one elbow on the table, smirking at her.
Keeping her eyes on Austin, she made her way over and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his chest. When she turned to meet the man who’d been staring at her earlier, reality hit. This handsome hunk of perfection who slowly rose to his feet, smiling at her, blue eyes twinkling was, indeed, none other than Ross Hoffman, legitimate brew master and one of the most attractive men she’d seen in a long time. His was a subtle, slow-moving handsomeness—one that made her blink when confronted by it. Different from Austin’s overt, model-like attractiveness. In tandem, standing shoulder to shoulder, the two men were like dark and light, yin and yang. Between them, they emitted a sort of energy that made the sparse hairs on her arms stand up.
Evelyn felt herself blush all the way up from her heels to her scalp as the intimate details of her most recent wet dream featuring him, and Austin, and her together filled her consciousness.
“Pleased to meet you.” She held out a hand, eager, yet shivering slightly when he touched her.
“The pleasure is entirely mine,” he said, taking her hand and grazing her knuckles with his lips, keeping his gaze on hers the entire time. The slight sibilance of his German accent made her swallow hard as he held on to her hand a beat longer than was probably necessary. She couldn’t stop staring at him—the amazing span of his shoulders, the length of his legs, the way his Adam’s apple was moving as if he, too, were swallowing against a dry mouth.
Austin stayed silent, giving them time to size each other up, take each other all the way in. When Ross finally let go of her hand, it dropped to her side, her arm floppy and awkward. Austin touched her hair, tucking a stray lock of it behind her ear, letting his fingertips play along the hanging earring—a soft, gentle gesture that might has well been a stroke to her achingly hard nipple, or her plump, eager clit. She sensed her legs giving way, while both men gazed at her, their intentions as clear as if she were watching a porn loop of the three of them on continuous, alarming replay.
She looked from one to the other, heart pounding in her ears. They stood in a strange tableau, the threesome-ness of it making her dizzy, and so unbelievably horny she could barely catch her breath. Finally, needing something familiar to get her through the moment, she grabbed Austin’s arm. “Honey, I… I need to talk to you.” She glanced over at Ross. He was still smiling, but he’d backed away a bit, to give them room. “Alone,” she whispered.
Was this how it would be? This odd dance of space, of each man attempting to show he could do it—could share her attention in some way that might suit them both? They were both so compelling, intriguing—so very alpha—she sensed herself slipping into a warm, wonderful place inside her head.
Austin put his arm around her and pressed his lips to her cheek.
“Hang on a second. I’m gonna hit the head. You guys talk amongst yourselves.” He leaned in closer, kissed her neck right below her ear, making her shiver all over. “Get to know him, my love. You won’t be disappointed.” She drew back staring at him, her pulse racing. His calm, boyish, beloved smile relaxed her. “See where it takes you,” he said, for her ears only.
She watched him walk away, then turned to face the other man, struck all over again by the unreal beauty of him. When he actually reddened under her scrutiny, she smiled and took a seat across from him, forcing herself to be calm and see where this might take her.
The minute he’d sensed the obvious chemistry between the two people he loved, Austin had known what he had to do. The longer he’d sat with Ross, the more he’d realized how much he’d missed their connection—their odd mix of competition and companionship, of friendship and rivalry for the affection of the women around them. It was nuts, but he’d felt he had a moment to capture, and needed some time to gather his thoughts and figure out a couple of things. One, if he could handle it and two, if he could convince her to try it.
Because, at that moment, right there in an overcrowded bar in Denver, nothing seemed more perfect in his universe than to be with the
m both.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror, splashed water on his face, and made a decision. How he’d gone from frustrated and furious and convinced he should tell her to move the hell out if she wouldn’t commit, to horny and contemplating a threesome escaped him. But before he chickened out, he sent a quick text to Ross.
Make an excuse and meet me in the back hallway.
Then he sat on the bench outside the men’s room, his heart pounding, his stomach in knots.
The sight of his tall, handsome friend relaxed him immediately. He kept his voice low.
“Let’s all go back to our suite. We can eat and talk there. In private.”
Ross sat, staring straight ahead. “What exactly do you want to talk about?”
“I think you know.”
Ross turned to look at him, disbelief in his deep blue eyes. “You are certifiably insane.”
“What? You don’t find her attractive?”
“If you were not my very good friend, you would surely gut me for what I’m thinking about her right now.”
Austin smiled. Maybe this could be the answer. He was fine with it at least on the surface. It would be good for her. It would bring her happiness and that was one thing he’d do most anything to bring her right now. It would also bring his friend back and who knew, maybe he could even convince Ross to join him at the brewery.
Nothing had ever seemed more right. His innate need to fix, to make things better, to calm the fever of her recent frustration combined with his sheer happiness at seeing his old friend again. Which perhaps made him exactly as insane as Ross suggested. Austin sucked in a breath and plunged ahead.
“Good. Hold that thought. Go ahead, I’ll be right over.” He watched Ross walk away, gathered his composure, and joined them, smiling at the sight of the two people he cared about eyeing each other in a way that felt utterly and completely…
Perfect.
He shoved down the small voice of protest, the part of him that demanded sole possession of her. He was sharing her body, perhaps a bit of her heart, but he would manage it. He had to. She wanted it. He’d known as much from the first time they’d engaged in that hot fantasy. He trusted her and how she felt about him. Having Ross in their mutual presence made that clear, in a way even he couldn’t explain to himself. He sat quickly, planting a long, lingering kiss on her lips. She broke away and glanced at Ross, pulling her hair into a ponytail, her face flushed.
“So,” he said, leaning forward toward Ross while keeping his hand on her thigh. “You two get to know much about each other yet?”
“Not nearly enough,” Ross said, finishing his drink and flashing his patented smirk. Austin ignored him and focused on Evelyn.
“Tell me something about him,” he said, running his finger along her jaw line.
“Um, let’s see”—she picked up her beer and feigned deep thought—“he thinks he is God’s gift to women.”
“Ha, darling, this is a fact, not a mere thought,” Ross said, laughter in his voice.
“And…,” she went on, also ignoring the nearly un-ignorable man across the table from them. “He’s considering working for that super jerk, Brad Jefferson.”
“I heard that,” Austin said, leaning on his elbow, his attention fully on her. She smiled at him. “What should we advise him about that?”
“We aren’t advising him on shit,” she declared, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder and giving Ross a quick, flirty glance. “He’s a big boy, I think. He can make his own decisions about where to work.”
“Agreed,” Austin said, tracing the outline of her full lips with his fingertip. “How do we feel about trying to pay him more to work for us?”
“I don’t think we can afford him, my love,” she said, sipping her beer and trailing her fingers down her neck, a sure sign she was good and horny. Exactly the way he wanted her.
“Oh, we might could work something out,” he said, licking his lips as he watched her touch the tops of her breasts, before sliding her fingers into her hair, pulling out her ponytail slowly.
At that moment, he glanced over at Ross. The man’s jaw was hanging open like a teenager’s. This gave him a moment’s pause. Ross did not impress easily and seeing him this gobsmacked over his fiancée caused a slight tickle of worry, a minor red flag to wave in his brain.
“She’s right,” Ross said, his voice neutral. “You can’t afford me.”
“Let’s go,” he whispered in her ear. “I can’t take another minute of these damn crowds.”
“Okay, but what about…uh…your friend over there? The tall blond with the Viking beard with his mouth hanging open?” She gave him a significant look.
“Oh, he’s invited. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Her eyes took on a hard edge again. He had a brief moment of panic but cupped her neck, bringing her face near his.
“I’m only proposing a nice, quiet dinner between friends. In our suite. Away from the maddening throng.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I love you. Relax. See where it takes you,” he repeated the odd phrase. She pulled back, her face red, clutching his thigh. He held her gaze. When she glanced across the table at Ross, Austin could practically see the sparks crackling between them.
He hesitated, recalculating the possible costs if this thing went pear-shaped.
She sucked in a breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Austin smiled, threw some money down on the table, and took her hand.
Chapter Fifteen
The warm water caressed Evelyn’s skin as the lilac and vanilla infused steam soothed her rattled nerves. She smiled and sank deeper in the massive tub, holding her breath as her hair billowed out above her. She emerged to the sound of loud, masculine laughter from the next room. Ross’ deep, accented voice, then Austin’s own raspy reply made her tingly all over.
Weird.
But yet, somehow, exactly right.
“Honey?” she called out. Austin poked his head around the corner. The relief she felt on seeing his grin made her grateful all over again for him. “Can I get some of whatever you guys are drinking?”
She sank back below the water again, but when she sat back up she found the man who stood holding a large bottle of rare Imperial stout was not Austin, but Ross. Clad in only his jeans. She tried not to stare.
He was physical perfection writ large, with wide shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. A light dusting of yellowish red hair covered his muscular upper chest. His legs were impossibly long. And that face—it was as if chiseled from granite, with high cheekbones, large bright blue eyes and topped with a shock of shoulder-length thick blond hair. She curled her fingers into fists under the water against the urge to plunge them into it or to touch the light beard on his jaw and slipped back beneath the bubbles.
When she reemerged, his smile had grown. He held up the bottle.
“Austin said you were thirsty. And I need a shower. Do you mind?” His slight accent only added to his appeal.
“So, do I have to get out for that bottle or are you going to bring it here?” Her face heated up at her boldness. This had to be the strangest day of her life, but it was beginning to take on a tinge of reality, of a sort of flirty, yet comfortable level of appropriateness between the three of them that she’d only dreamed might be possible. Ross walked over and knelt, trailing a long, elegant finger through the water.
She took the bottle from him and drank, letting the rich, roasty essence and alcohol burn set fire to her already zinging nerve endings. He stayed put, staring at her. A bit of the dark brew dripped down her neck. He touched it and when he placed his fingertip near her lips, she licked it off, shivering as she attempted to keep her painfully hard nipples hidden by sliding farther down into the water.
Oh my sweet God. Could this actually be happening? Did she want it to happen? Would it lead anywhere good?
She needed Austin, wanted his voice, his hands, and his reassuring presence.
“You are very beautiful. My friend
is a lucky man,” Ross said before he stood and stepped out of his jeans. She averted her gaze at first, then took another deep draft of the rare brew and allowed herself a good look at all of him. The muscles of his thighs and ass were as sculpted as the ones in his chest. She watched him lean into the slate-tiled space to gauge the water temperature. When he slipped underneath the spray and turned to face her, she had to bite back a gasp. His cock was just as impressive as Austin had led her to believe, matching the large, over-the-top rest of him. And it was ready for action.
She slid back under the water to keep from embarrassing herself. She’d never been averse to trying new things, sexually speaking. She’d even spent a few weeks visiting BDSM clubs when she’d dated Trent and had enjoyed its forbidden eroticism. Her own rampant fantasy life in the past weeks, during the drought of actual sex with Austin, had led to exactly this moment. It was no time to chicken out.
Something tapped her on the top of the head, so she rose into the now even steamier room. Austin knelt behind her, his hands on her shoulders—he’d put the bottle on the floor next to the tub.
“Thanks.” She let him work through her tension. Tears stung her eyes for some odd reason. “I so don’t deserve you.”
“Huh. Funny how you’re the last one to figure that out.”
She sighed and lay against the tub’s tall back once again. He made his way down her front to each breast, cupping them, flicking a thumb over her nipples. When he tilted her face back and up, his beautiful, lovely mouth worked its familiar magic. She had missed him so much and had no one to blame but herself for the iceberg between them. She broke away, needing to tell him.
“Seriously, Austin. You were right.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Hang on, need to get my recording device. This is an historic Gettysburg Address-style moment.”
“Shut up and listen.”
He resumed working her shoulders and neck, adding his lips to the mix, forcing the warmth from her face straight down between her legs. When she looked up at Ross’ tall form still encased in the shower, shampoo coursing down his body, it made her whole body zing in response as internal heat rose from somewhere around the middle of her back, spreading outward and making her lick her lips.