by Jayne Rylon
When she bent to retrieve a disposable cup forgotten under the side table in the living room, the intensity of Mason’s stare scorched her. She glanced up to find him scrutinizing her every move from his post near the front door where he thanked departing guests for coming with a solemn yet composed grace while he handed out copies of the photo-collages she’d designed yesterday. Her knees bent of their own volition. She didn’t want any observers to think she teased him by offering a glimpse of the bows edging her thigh-high stockings at a time like this despite the reputation she’d earned for tormenting him through the years.
Not that he’d ever taken the bait. After enduring the disappointment of a thousand rejections, she refused to delude herself into imagining he wanted to anymore. Only a greedy woman would wish to trade the enduring friendship he’d given her for a single night of wild passion anyway.
“Want me to grab that, Lacey?” Her neighbor, Rhonda, started to reach out but Lacey lunged, snagging it first. She collected the stray glass along with several discarded napkins before heading out the backdoor to add her overflowing trash bag to the growing pile. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of the whispers she left in her wake.
“…so cold.”
“Hasn’t cried at all.”
“In shock…”
Out of space to retreat, she glanced around in panic at the fence surrounding their postage-stamp sized yard. The aged wood made her even more claustrophobic than usual. The lawn Rob had enjoyed manicuring now hosted a hodgepodge of folding tables, deck chairs and chimineas gathered from around the neighborhood. People had shared one final meal over fond memories of their co-worker, high school buddy or distant acquaintance by the fires but they’d abandoned the chilly evening with their obligation to attend fulfilled hours ago.
A burst of anger at life in general made her grunt when she flung the garbage, harder than necessary, toward the pile of trash. The seam of the black plastic sack split in flight, depositing half-eaten food, plastic utensils and God knew what else in a five-foot swath of debris.
“Damn it!”
“I would have helped you with that, Lacey. If you’d just asked.” Tyler’s weary statement came from a nearby table. She hadn’t seen him sitting there in pensive isolation.
“I can handle it.”
He moved like lightning to her side and, with an unrelenting grip on her arm, prevented her from avoiding the sight of his red-rimmed eyes to tidy up the mess. He’d always been the most sensitive of their group. Empathetic and kind. But the raw agony she witnessed now compelled her to break free and finish her task. He stilled her attempts with a shake.
“Enough.” No sign of his typical charm or easygoing smile could be found in the harsh set of his flattering features. “You’ve done enough. Let me fix it. Before he died… I promised Rob I’d take care of you. And I will.”
“You think cleaning up this shit is what he had in mind? Fine, go ahead!” She shook her head in disgust at the shrill tone of her outburst then schooled herself to release the tension in her spine before snickering at the fun-loving, shockingly handsome man. All her emotions bubbled and swirled in a confusing mix she couldn’t control. It was too much to deal with at once.
“Little one, you need to take a break. Come relax with me for a minute. I’ll rub your shoulders.”
As if that’ll help. The sure massage of his hands wouldn’t calm her down one bit.
“You have no idea what I need, Tyler.” The bitterness in her heart overwhelmed her better judgment as she let the stinging truth fly. “You’ve never understood me.”
His emerald eyes widened, the sexy arch of his eyebrows raised and his luscious lips parted as his jaw hung slack. She wrenched out of his grasp before he could recover, rotating with a sharp motion that tore the grass beneath her heel.
Lacey stomped up the stairs into the kitchen without a backward glance, in search of another task to occupy her thoughts. But, when she got there, she realized someone had already washed, dried and stored the dishes. The floor had been mopped, the leftovers boxed up and put in the freezer, the lavish flower arrangements she’d set aside to donate to the hospital had vanished and pointless conversations no longer echoed down the hall.
She blinked.
There wasn’t a single thing left to do.
The haunting silence threatened to suffocate her. She bolted for the rear staircase then took the steps to the second floor two at a time as she headed for her parents’ room. After their deaths, she’d often crept into their bed at night somehow hoping their essence would linger in their personal space. Ten years had passed. The stale air in the room provided no comfort now. Instead, the oppressive weight of the emptiness reminded her of a mausoleum.
How dare they all leave her behind to suffer alone?
Irrational rage propelled her to lash out. She swept the photos of her and Rob as children from the dresser. The happier times she’d experienced before the harsh realities of the world corrupted her blissful ignorance felt like a minefield of cruel lies waiting to detonate with one misstep of fate. Lacey faced the windows, yanking down the yellowed eyelet curtains her mother had prized. Maybe, if she could erase the memories, she could avoid the tsunami of misery zeroing in on her heart.
The flowered comforter suffered her wrath next as she ripped it from the king-sized bed, flinging it into a pile with the curtains in the corner. A primal roar escaped her chest as she climbed onto the bed to reach the framed portrait taken weeks before the accident that had stolen her parents. She twisted to drop it over the cushion of the comforter but lost her balance on the squishy mattress. The glass covering the photograph shattered on impact against the corner of the nightstand on her way down.
Her lost loved ones stared back at her with timeless grins covered in broken shards as she collapsed on top of the wreckage of her life.
“Lacey! What the fuck’s going on?” Tyler’s shout snapped her out of her daze.
She raised her eyes to his but couldn’t force a sound past the constriction of her throat.
The spit-polished shine of his dress shoes captured her attention as they gobbled the distance from the door to her landing site in two huge strides. His hands curled around her waist in a protective hold as he righted her. Instead of soothing her, the touch incited another bout of her righteous fury.
“Put me down!” Though he pinned her shoulders to his chest with one sculpted arm, she lashed out with the three-inch spike of her boot, hoping to connect with his shin.
“Mason! Where the hell are you? Get up here!” Tyler bellowed as he spun toward the bed then flattened her thrashing body to the mattress.
“Get off me, you overgrown asshole!” Lacey continued to squirm and kick but she moaned when the motion rubbed her against every inch of the flexed muscles blanketing her, subjecting her to another kind of torture. She had to get out from under temptation before she did something crazy. So she turned her head and bit the vulnerable flesh on the inside of his forearm. Hard.
“Son of a bitch!” Tyler jerked. With the opening presented, she slithered from his grasp then made a break for the door.
Arms folded across his monolithic chest, thick thighs braced apart, Mason blocked her escape route. His imposing frame occupied the entire opening. He took an ominous pace forward, the dangerous glint in his ice blue eyes not one she’d seen aimed at her before. The intimidating glower caused her to retreat a teensy bit before she could check her instincts. She bumped into the solid wall Tyler had formed behind her. Trapped between the two men, who overwhelmed her senses on a good day, she abandoned all vestiges of sanity.
“Leave me the hell alone, both of you!” She lunged to the side in a futile attempt to slip between them.
Mason’s broad hands gripped her shoulders, though the gesture made it seem more like he cradled her instead of jarring her as she expected. “Hang on to her, Ty.”
One sleek arm wrapped around her hips while the other clamped above her breasts. A whimper snuck f
rom her throat when Tyler accidentally brushed her nipples along the way. Her breath huffed in and out of her lungs beneath his embrace as she wished he caressed her for more pleasurable reasons. The tired dream refused to wither.
Lacey averted her gaze from the intuitive question on Mason’s face but it landed on the raw mark she’d inflicted on Tyler’s arm. The sight of his injury deflated some of the mad overtaking her system. “Shit, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what came over me.”
She leaned forward to place a tender kiss beside the ring of bruises already forming beneath the raven hairs dusting his forearm. His husky whisper came close to her ear, washing her with the scent of the chocolate cake he must have eaten.
“It’s alright, little one. It’s about time you let some of this out. There isn’t enough room inside your itty-bitty bod for all that rage.”
His gentle understanding unleashed a torrent of emotions from behind her carefully constructed dam. If he hadn’t supported her, the force of the gush would have knocked her off her feet but she squeezed her eyelids shut against the liquid threatening to seep out.
“You’re bleeding.” Mason’s rough timbre broached the awkward silence. He scooped up her hand from where it dangled at her side, raising it for inspection. When the moist, heated silk of his mouth surrounded her index finger, her eyes flew open. The vision of his lips suctioning the droplet of blood from the immaterial scratch punched her in the gut.
Lacey wanted nothing more than to let them care for her. But they wouldn’t soothe her the way she needed. They never had before, no matter how many times she’d made a fool of herself in an attempt to entice them. Instead, they’d remained steadfast friends, always close yet never close enough. What did a nick on the tip of her finger matter when her heart had been through the wringer?
Sudden, rending pain slashed across her soul as one too many of life’s disappointments annihilated her shaky composure. Her chest heaved with dry sobs a moment before an unearthly wail burst from her throat. Grief obliterated all perception of her surroundings. Tears poured from her, dripping off her cheeks in a steady stream.
Lacey thought she would drown in sorrow. For her brother. For herself. Someone lifted her then deposited her on the flannel sheets with infinite care. She curled into a ball on her side. Dual heat sources bracketed her shuddering body. Even through the despair shredding her guts, some basic part of her recognized Tyler’s attempt to comfort her by rubbing her back. She cried in horrid gasps, unable to stop the flood of grief now that it had begun.
Rob! Not him, too. It’s not fair! She pleaded with the powers that be to transform this nightmare into some colossal mistake through divine magic. When that plan fell through, she emptied herself of heartache, crying until nothing remained but a hollow shell, brittle to the touch. After what seemed like hours, the steady murmuring of Mason’s soothing litany reached through her sniffling and the occasional cough.
“That’s right, Lace. We’ve got you.”
Unfortunately, his attempt at calming her incited another crying jag. Their intimate display of affection was temporary. She couldn’t get used to having them so close—to relying on them. After all, they weren’t hers to keep.
All her life, she’d craved her older brother’s best friends. They’d indulged her girlish desire for adventure by helping her climb the tallest trees, smuggling her extra pieces of her favorite candy or racing her on their bikes while always keeping her safe. Then, their wicked good looks had inspired her first teenage crushes. Instead of fading from puppy love to deep-seated friendship, her longing for them grew year after year as she watched them mature into amazing men.
Smart, funny, aggravating and sexy. Together, they were everything she’d ever wanted.
The Midwestern city they lived in maintained small town sentiments, meaning gossip reigned as the leading pastime—especially within the community of police and hospital workers they associated with. The high-stress jobs relied on petty dirt to offset the danger and exhaustion of the demanding environments.
Therefore, it didn’t surprise her that more women than she could count had inquired about the validity of the rampant rumors surrounding the guys’ sexual exploits. They all wondered if Mason and Tyler together were the hottest fuck this side of the Rockies. No one believed she lacked firsthand knowledge of their carnal prowess considering how close they’d always been. So she’d heard all the wild tales.
From Mary Lou’s first account of their proclivity for ménage to Rachel’s recent description of the wicked bondage games they’d introduced her to, the vast creativity of the guys’ encounters had fascinated—and angered—her. Why did it seem like every other woman in the entire fucking city make the grade when she’d never passed muster?
Masochistic tendencies had lured her into scouting out information on the naughty yet alluring sexcapades of the men who were partners on the force, roommates in their personal lives and a fixture in her home.
Now she wouldn’t even have those companionable visits to look forward to. She would truly lead a solitary existence. Despair choked her. Her blurred vision dimmed as she struggled to draw enough breath to feed her sobs. Someone shook her, rolling her to her back. Then Tyler and Mason’s distant shouts penetrated her ruminations.
“Breathe, Lacey! You have to calm down and breathe.” She tried to obey Mason’s order but couldn’t.
“Mason, do something. She’s turning blue!” Tyler’s appeal resonated with a terror she’d never heard from him before. Yet, she couldn’t compel her lungs to respond.
The buttons on her blouse gave way beneath the force of Mason’s urgent hands. The constriction around her throat eased but not enough for her to draw ample oxygen. Before she realized what had happened, he sealed his mouth over hers. Air flowed into her lungs as he exhaled, creating a transfer. His wrists—braced on either side of her head—boxed her in until his stare claimed her entire focus, willing her to respond. He prevented her from expelling the breath by lingering against her now slack lips, stopping her cycle of hyperventilation, then lifted off to give her space to pull in more air.
Her breathing hitched and tears threatened to renew but he stemmed the tide by pressing his luscious mouth to hers once more. He passed the seconds by rubbing his nose against hers. The motion caused his lips to glide over her mouth the slightest bit. The gentle nuzzle lulled her.
Lacey’s nursing training goaded her to rationalize her instant euphoria as a side effect of near asphyxiation but her heart recognized the truth even as he repeated the motion. Mason Clark pinning her to the bed, caressing her in a very un-little-sister-of-my-best-friend way, inspired another bout of dizziness. When he separated them this time, she sucked in a lungful of oxygen to guarantee she wouldn’t pass out and miss the closest thing to a true kiss she’d ever had from him. Sure, he’d pecked her cheek a million times, but he’d only engaged in a full lip lock in her dreams.
“There you go, little one.” Ty relaxed, returning to lounge by her side. His long fingers entwined with hers while Mason performed a sensual equivalent of mouth to mouth. The delicious remedy restored her respiration and some of her strength but destroyed her common sense. “Synchronize your breathing with his. Inhale now and hold it.”
The rhythm mashed her satin-covered breasts against the solid plane of Mason’s chest before he descended once more. This time she stole the opportunity to indulge in forbidden pleasure. Lacey angled her mouth and kissed him with ten years of pent-up need. His low moan, which sounded suspiciously like a growl to her ears, accompanied her advance. She cupped the back of Mason’s head in her left hand, reveling in the way his short hair tickled her palm as she forced him into closer contact.
He paused until her lids fluttered open to absorb his questioning glance but she couldn’t turn back now. Hunger and desperation outstripped inhibition as she clutched the one thing with the power to temporarily erase her suffering. She nibbled on Mason’s lower lip, arching against him until he couldn’t deny every in
ch of her yearned for his touch.
She would beg if she had to.
Tyler’s grip tightened on her hand when he spoke for both men. “Do you know what you’re asking for, Lacey?”
In response, she squeezed Ty’s fingers then devoured Mason’s sultry mouth with long licks and flicks of her tongue. She had control of the situation for all of three seconds before his instincts kicked in. He wrested power from her with animal grace. Though Tyler stood several inches taller than Mason, and possessed features worthy of a cover model, Mason’s innate command had always attracted her like a moth to a flame.
Ice blue eyes pierced straight to her soul when he shifted on top of her, bunching her skirt around her hips as he settled into the cradle of her thighs. The smoky flavor of the whiskey he’d tossed back earlier mixed with his own unique essence to create a potent concoction she could easily get drunk on. With a primal groan, Mason surged against her as he continued his attack on her sanity. The trajectory of his torso caused his crisp uniform shirt to glide across her semi-exposed breasts, torturing her nipples along the way, while the thick bulge of his cock beneath his trousers prodded the sensitive flesh between her thighs.
Lacey attempted to align their hips by shifting, restless, beneath Mason’s powerful form, but she couldn’t quite work up enough friction to satisfy the demands of her starving senses. Her whimper of frustration sliced through the room. She cursed the betraying sound when Mason froze on top of her, blinked, then ripped his reliable warmth from her embrace.
“Son of a bitch!” He scrubbed one hand over his face as though he could erase what he saw.
“No!” She attempted to follow him but he kept them separated with a palm planted on her sternum. Panic flared in her heart. She struggled against his hold but he had her pinned to the mattress. Her pleading gaze flew to Tyler where he’d tensed beside her. “Don’t let him do this. Don’t let him run now.”