And speaking of Ethan, where on earth was he? Growing impatient when she realized she didn’t hear any sound coming from the bathroom, she eased out of bed and moved quietly to her weekend bag, quickly putting on a pair of white cotton panties and a fitted white eyelet camisole that buttoned up the front. Then, looking for the jeans she’d worn last night, she caught sight of someone in the hammock on the front porch. Ethan.
Forgetting about the jeans altogether, she padded to the cabin’s screen door and stepped outside to find him lounging there in his white boxer briefs. “Hey,” she said softly.
Their eyes met. “Hey, you,” he murmured sweetly. “Happy birthday.”
“Whatcha doin’ out here?”
“Thought it’d be nice to watch the sunrise and didn’t want to wake you. But it’s starting to look like rain.”
Mira moved on bare feet to the edge of the wood cabin’s covered porch, then peeked up at the sky through the trees surrounding the place. Indeed what had glowed a pearly pink a few minutes ago was now more blank and gray.
“Climb in here with me,” he requested then, so she cast him a soft smile and accepted the invitation. Unlike the hammock in the yard, this one of course wasn’t suspended between trees—it was stretched so that four corners of netting connected to a metal stand beneath.
“This is nice,” she told him, curling into his embrace. And it was. Last night had been … utterly exciting, but nothing quite beat crawling into the arms of a man who loved you.
“You doin’ okay? About last night?”
She lifted her head from where it rested on his shoulder and found him peering down at her. “Yeah. I mean, I think. I mean …” Oh hell. The truth was, she didn’t quite know what to feel yet. Dirty? Alive? Ashamed? Liberated? And did she have a choice on what to feel? Or was she at the mercy of her inner being, her soul, whatever lay at the very core of her? “Was it all okay with you?” she finally asked Ethan. Since surely his feelings here mattered as much as hers—at least in some ways. “Was it what you envisioned?”
The tilt of his head and the expression on his face told her he could read her uncertainty. “Honey, I wouldn’t have put this into motion if I didn’t want you to enjoy it. I don’t want you to be worried—about anything. I want you to just do what feels good, without any hesitation, all right? That’s part of the gift.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t quite realized she was holding. Okay. He still loves me. And he’s even encouraging me to let it continue.
Though she pointed out, “You didn’t answer the other part. Was it what you wanted, what you expected it to be like?”
She watched then as he leaned his head back into the white netting, appearing to weigh the question. And she liked that he was taking it seriously, not just tossing out the simplest answer. She’d always loved his analytical mind and considered it one of the things that made them compatible. “Sort of, sort of not,” he said after a moment. “I feel like we … took turns with you more than shared you, if that makes any sense.”
She bit her lip, peered down at him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
He met her gaze, his warm and penetrating. Beyond the protection of the covered porch a soft drizzle began to patter against leaves in the trees that kept the cabin feeling so isolated and shaded. “I thought you might like us to … do things to you at the same time,” he said. “That’s all. That was more how I saw it.”
“Oh,” she said, a little taken aback—but she wasn’t certain why. After all, there had been some moments like that—like when Ethan had rubbed his hard length over her breast while Rogan had fucked her. So why did she find his suggestion a little … shocking? Maybe because, now that she thought about it, he was right—in ways, the two men had taken turns pleasuring her; her focus had, at most times, clearly been on one of them or the other. And during the period when they had both enjoyed her at the same time, the sensation had felt different—there’d been a heightened sense of pleasure and abandon. And she’d experienced that when they’d both been touching her, too. Maybe that stunning sense of abandon—loss of control—frightened her just a little.
“There were some times when … you both were … you know.” Damn, she couldn’t quite get the words out, even with Ethan. She hated that, how shy and Victorian this situation was turning her. She wasn’t that prim. But new boundaries—big ones—were being breached here. It had been one thing when Rogan had taught her to appreciate dirty talk. Having them both teach her to appreciate being with two men at once was a big leap.
“I know,” he said softly. The air smelled like rain now, cool and sweet. “But I thought you might want to take that further.”
Just be honest. This is Ethan. If you’re seriously considering marrying this man, you should be able to say anything to him. “I … I felt shy about it a lot of the time. I know I’m not normally shy in bed, but I guess this situation … intimidated me. It’s strange to … to show desire for someone else in front of you.”
The light of understanding dawned in his eyes then. “Oh. I guess I can get that. It’s like … you don’t want to hurt my feelings or something?”
She nodded gently. “Sort of. And … and I guess there’s a part of me that’s afraid of looking really slutty or something. Afraid that if I act like I want this, that even though you think it’s okay with you, maybe it really won’t be. And so … it was just easier to wait for you two to make all the moves and let it happen.”
He kept his warm gaze on her, reached to caress her cheek. “I promise, baby, this weekend it really is okay. It’s really what I want. You don’t need to be shy. Whatever your body wants, I want you to have it. That’s the gift,” he said as if to drive the point home. Again.
“And it’s a little weird with Rogan,” she went on, thinking aloud now, getting more comfortable with the topic. “I mean, I know he and I are long in the past, but once upon a time I cared about him, and I have to wonder what he thinks about me doing this.”
At this, however, Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Rogan? Seriously? I’d think you’d know Rogan well enough by now to realize that he’s, uh, not a judgmental kinda guy. In fact, when I invited him, he told me this wouldn’t be his first time doing something like this.”
Mira blinked, utterly surprised. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
“I think it happened after you. But anyway, he’s all about having sex and having fun—and he even said he liked the idea of you opening up that much, being that free. He always felt you held back a little.”
Hmm. Rogan would think that. But it bothered her. Because she had been fully open with him. Or at least she’d thought so. Though maybe he’d yearned for a true wild woman; maybe that was the way to Rogan Wolfe’s heart.
She decided not to dwell on her past with Rogan at the moment, though. This weekend wasn’t about their past, after all—it was about right now. And in a way, it was also about the future. So she changed the subject to something else still lingering on her mind.
“I … never quite realized it was only you and Rogan who were involved in that hostage situation.”
“Well, there were the other local cops.”
“I know. I just meant I didn’t realize you were the only two from your team. And I guess it just surprises me a little that you could go through something like that with someone and not, you know, feel a little closer to them than you and Rogan do. Or … am I thinking like a girl here?” she asked with a grin.
But Ethan just shrugged. “You know Rogan and me just don’t have much in common—other than softball, the badge, and you. And I gave up the badge. And he …” Then his face clouded.
“Gave up me,” she finished for him. “That’s okay, you can say it. It’s true. And I got over it a long time ago.” Or … well, she’d always thought she’d gotten over it. But last night … for her anyway, it was just hard to have sex with a guy and not have it mingle with emotions. Hard to impossible. Not that Ethan needed to know that, at least not right now.
“So …” Ethan said with a soft grin, “back to us. Are we good?”
“I’m good if you’re good,” she said with a small smile.
His grin widened. “Well, I’m good if you’re enjoying this to the fullest.”
She gave him another nod. “I will. I mean, I’ll try anyway.”
“Just … make it whatever you want it to be, honey. Okay?” he said with a wink. “It’s really okay for you to … cut loose, follow every urge you want to follow. I promise.”
And she leaned down and kissed him. Her way of saying thank you. And I love you. And I will. Because she was beginning, slowly but surely, to understand this. To understand that she needed a new attitude here.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one most women would never get. And yeah, she was an analyzer, and she’d been raised with certain mores, certain ideas of what was right and wrong and normal. But maybe she was simply overworrying this. Maybe this was the one weekend of her life where she was meant to throw that all out the window—all that history, all that moral training. Maybe now was the time to truly embrace this gift from Ethan and enjoy it the way he wanted her to. Maybe, beginning now, she would follow her physical whims, answer her body’s calls, and start doing … whatever she felt like.
One kiss with Ethan turned into another, and another—slow, deep, lingering kisses that reached down inside her, leaving a warmth that radiated from her core outward. And whether from what they’d experienced together last night or the conversation they’d had just now, she felt closer to him than ever before—and maybe just a little bold, too.
Looping one leg over him as they traded sensual tongue kisses, she eased her hand downward, squarely between his legs. He moaned when she found his hardening cock, closing a gentle but firm fist around it through his underwear to knead and caress.
Working on pure instinct now, she sat up and straddled him in the hammock, same as she had yesterday afternoon down by the lake. But already this time, things were hotter than yesterday just by virtue of the new bond she shared with him. As they looked into each other’s eyes, she sensed that bond solidifying. And at the same time she truly felt what she’d merely just decided a minute ago—she’d been too sensitive last night, evaluated it all too much. She needed to simply enjoy this, let herself go, be as dirty as she wanted to be, as sexual as she wanted to be, even aggressive if that’s what she chose.
With that inspiration in mind, she reached between her breasts and yanked sharply at the thin cotton fabric that kept them bound until the top buttons came undone. She then used both hands to pull the white eyelet open, freeing her aching tits. Ethan released a small growl that fueled her, making her pussy hum as she rubbed it against the stiff length in his boxer briefs.
As she began a slow, rhythmic grind, he spoke in a deep rasp. “Be my dirty birthday girl and fuck me.”
She bit her lip, turned on. That was more like something Rogan would say—would have said to her, years ago—than Ethan, but she understood. He was pushing her a little, letting her know it really was okay. For her. For him. And she couldn’t help but respond. Whatever your body wants, I want you to have it.
She followed the pure animal instinct to reach up, pinch her taut nipples, pulling, tugging, the sensation shooting straight to her crotch, and amplified by the glaze of lust now shimmering in Ethan’s eyes. She undulated harder on that beautifully stiffened shaft of his, drinking in the sensations now as easily as she inhaled the scent of summer rain. Was Rogan hearing them, listening, watching? She didn’t care. Did the look on her face tell Ethan that she really did feel dirty right now, in the good way, the liberating way, the letting-go way? She didn’t care much about that either, yet at the same time she hoped he was enjoying this as much as she suddenly was.
Without further ado, she leaned back slightly, reached into the opening of his underwear, and extracted his erection, which she thought looked particularly hot and hard this morning. She let out a “Mmm” as the very sight of it trickled through her like a warm drink of alcohol, and she worked the shaft in her hand easily for a moment before rising on her knees, using her free hand to pull aside the strip of cotton between her legs, then smoothly impaling herself.
They both moaned as their bodies came together during her descent, and unexpected images filled her brain. The way Rogan had felt inside her last night. Ethan putting this same cock in her mouth, then using it on her breast. And at the same time, she absorbed how it felt now—perfect and big and strong inside her.
As she began to ride him, he murmured, “Let me suck those pretty titties.” And she leaned over, playfully letting them both hover just above his mouth before finally lowering one hard, pink nipple into the moisture there. He sucked and she purred—again, the feeling shot like a pinball straight to her pussy. He knew her well, knew that sucking her tits would make her come faster, harder.
And as the hot orgasm rushed through her just a minute later, she reveled in it even as she reaffirmed her new way of thinking about this little birthday party. Last night had been … the breaking-in period, the orientation. Whatever happened today would be easier for her. Would be still more freeing for her. Would be whatever her body wanted it to be in the moment.
She wanted this now, all of it.
She wanted it in a way she simply hadn’t been able to process that quickly last night. But now Ethan had helped her make sense of it, helped her accept it and begin to embrace it.
Everything from this point forward would be more than just a gift Ethan was giving her—it would also be a gift she was giving herself.
The day was working out nicely. So far anyway. Turned out Ethan hadn’t minded the morning rain at all—it had made him feel intimately cocooned with his girl while they’d had some damn good sex on the front porch. But he’d been glad to see the skies brightening beyond the windows as he and Mira cooked up some bacon and eggs together in the small kitchen area, him in his underwear, her in her white panties and cute little button-up cami. She’d started to grab her jeans when they’d stepped back inside, but he’d touched her arm and quietly suggested, “Leave ’em off. It’s just us.” The three of us, he’d meant. Because he’d also meant every word he said to her—he wanted her to be comfortable with this.
And he’d been happy when she’d considered it for a second, then dropped the jeans back on the floor, saying, “Okay,” as merrily as if it had been just the two of them.
About the time the aroma of bacon had started filling the cabin, Rogan awoke, ambling over in blue jeans and mussed hair to say, “Damn, smells good.”
“Figures you show up when the work’s done,” Ethan said to him on a laugh. That was sort of how he really saw Rogan, but he’d meant it good-naturedly—he didn’t believe you could really change people at their core, so he accepted them as they were.
Rogan just laughed, running a hand back through his hair to say, “Sometimes my timing’s better than others.” Then he’d leaned in to kiss Mira on the cheek. “Morning, babe.”
“Morning.”
Ethan hadn’t really seen that coming, the kiss, but under the circumstances he supposed it made sense. Just like prodding her to cook breakfast in her panties, it encouraged her to relax into this situation.
And since then, he thought she really had seemed more at ease. And though he didn’t think you could change people, he thought you could find sides they kept hidden for whatever reason, and he’d known there was a more sensuous person lurking beneath Mira’s soft skin than he’d seen before. Not that she wasn’t sensual—hell, she was sexy as sin—but Mira was a class act, and she cared what people thought of her in a way that went deep and was more about habit than decision. And even though he liked and respected both those traits, he also didn’t want her to miss out on life, living, because of it. Ever since the night she’d told him her fantasy about two men, he’d known there was a wilder aspect to her sexuality than even she really understood—and he was determined to bring it out this weeken
d. And so far, so good. At least after their talk in the hammock this morning.
Now he’d driven his SUV—Rogan going along for the ride while Mira stayed behind to get the picnic basket ready—out to the highway and down the Lake Superior coast to a small marina where he’d reserved a speedboat for the day. Nothing fancy or superfast—just a way to get out on the water, especially since the weather was so unaccountably warm this weekend.
As he drove the bright yellow boat up the lake’s shore across calm water, he remembered seeing its name painted on the back: Fun in the Sun. And that’s exactly what he planned for them to have. If the brief rain shower this morning had turned into more … well, they could have certainly found plenty to do indoors together, that was for sure. But as it was, the bright sun had transformed this into a beautiful day, and he was now viewing the boat outing as a sort of transitional activity between the new state of mind Mira had developed this morning and the sex to come later. This evening they’d grill up steaks for her birthday dinner, open a bottle of wine, and let the night lead them on their next hot adventure.
“So,” Rogan asked loud enough to be heard over the sound of the motor, “you still cool with this arrangement?”
Ethan tossed him a glance from behind his Ray-Bans. “Sure. Why?”
His H.O.T. comrade gave his head an easy shake. “No reason. Just checking, I guess. Figured it was always possible you’d change your mind after the first night, that’s all.”
Ethan understood what he was asking then, and hell, it was a reasonable question. Considerate even, coming from Rogan. “No, I didn’t suddenly get jealous when it actually happened. I’m good with it all.”
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