Party of Three: A H.O.T. Cops Novel

by Lacey Alexander

  He thought back to that morning they’d been called in to rescue the little girl in Traverse City. It had felt a little awkward in a way at first, them not being the best of friends and yet having to deal with this together unexpectedly. It had been challenging to figure out who was in charge. And the truth was, the whole time they’d trained together, he’d never seen Rogan display any particular sensitivity or finesse and he’d wondered why the guy had even been selected for the program.

  Once they’d reached the house where the girl was being held, though, they’d both automatically started using what they’d learned. And Ethan had seen that what Rogan lacked in finesse he made up for with brute frankness. They’d both talked to the father, a guy named Frank, on the phone, and without even discussing it, they’d fallen into a good cop/bad cop routine, Ethan being the nice guy trying to reason with him and Rogan laying down the law and making it clear there was no way out. And to his dismay at the time, before it was over, Rogan had assumed charge of the situation—but by and large, they’d worked well together that day.

  Funny, despite serving on the same police force and playing on the same ball team, they’d never really had occasion to work that closely again … until now. Although it was hard to call this work.

  Now Rogan sat sprawled in the seat next to his while Mira lay stretched out in front of them on the bow, looking gorgeous and a little wild without her top on. The change he’d seen in her today still astounded and pleased him. It wasn’t that he wanted her to become some reckless woman who would share her body with just anyone—it was that he liked uncovering this exciting new side of her, this confident new side. Sex was something to be enjoyed, and he was glad his little weekend party was going so well for her now.

  “See that rock?” Rogan pointed to what was actually a large outcropping of sandstone that created a cliff, leading down about twenty feet to the lake. A small, sandy beach lay at one side of its base, while atop it sprouted cedar trees.

  “Yep,” Ethan said.

  “Looks like a good place to jump in and go for a swim.”

  Like earlier, Ethan just gave him a look. “Dude, you can’t be serious.”

  “Um, didn’t you get enough of the freezing-cold water a little while ago?” Mira asked from the bow.

  “Won’t be as cold there,” he said. “It’s in a cove.”

  When Mira looked to Ethan for confirmation, he could only shrug. “It’s true.” He knew for a fact because he’d spent a lot of summer weekends camping along this shore as a kid. And more than one of the H.O.T. reunions over the years had taken place in this area—most of the guys enjoyed the whole hunting, hiking, fishing thing, even if sometimes it really turned into more of just an eating, drinking, bullshitting thing. “Coves are more shallow, so the water there warms up faster in summer. But that doesn’t mean it’s actually warm—it just means it’s not as cold.”

  “You two should come with me,” Rogan suggested.

  At which Mira just laughed, as Ethan said, “And why the hell would we do that?”

  He grinned. “Get your blood pumping.”

  “Mine’s pumping fine, thanks,” Ethan told him with a quick nod.

  But not easily thwarted, Rogan looked to Mira. “Come on, babe, how about it? Go jump in with me. It’ll be fun.”

  And, predictably, she just looked at him like he must think she was crazy.

  “Be one more brave thing you can do this weekend,” he said then, though—and as she gave her pretty brunette head a tilt, Ethan realized the last part might actually have her starting to consider it.

  “Is it … even safe?” she asked. “I mean, how shallow is it? And how do you know?”

  Ethan had driven the speedboat slowly closer to the shore just since this conversation had started and now took a closer look at the area. “Water’s plenty deep for jumping,” he observed, “and the ledge juts out enough that you wouldn’t be in danger of hitting the wall or anything.” Then he raised his eyebrows at her, smiling. “But you’re not seriously gonna let him talk you into that, are you?”

  Now Mira was studying the sandstone cliff carefully—Ethan saw her eyes travel from the top of it down to the water, as if imagining the descent. And instead of answering his question, she simply said, “I’ve never done anything like that, never jumped into water off anything higher than a diving board.”

  “Well, now’s your chance,” Rogan prodded.

  And she gave him a suspicious smile. “How cold will it really be?”

  He held out his hands. “Do I look like a Magic 8 Ball, babe? I don’t know for sure. Just less cold than when I was skiing, and that’s less cold enough for me.”

  “You just have to be ready for it,” Ethan warned her. If she was really contemplating this, she needed to be prepared. “It’ll shock your body when you go in—you just have to ignore that and get back to the top. And then get the hell back out if you know what’s good for you,” he finished with a laugh.

  “Hmm …” she said, still examining the small clifflike structure, clearly trapped by indecision.

  “Tell you what,” Rogan said. “We can even jump together if you want. I’ll hold your hand if it’ll make you feel better.”

  Now she bit her lip, gazing thoughtfully at Rogan for a moment—before she looked back to Ethan. “I … think I want to do this.”

  He just lowered his chin, cast her a grin. “Really?”

  She answered with a nod.

  “I think you’re a little crazy—both of you. But far be it from me to try to talk you out of it.”

  From there, he drove them closer to the shore until they neared a thin ribbon of sand to one side of the rock wall. Rogan hopped out into the shallow water without a care as Ethan let the boat idle and then stood to help Mira over the side into Rogan’s arms.

  Damn, it should probably feel weird to be delivering my nearly naked girlfriend into another guy’s embrace. But it didn’t. Not this weekend. This weekend, everything was different.

  The boat continued idling in the water as Ethan watched them make their way onto the narrow beach area, and again he took in just how lovely she was, the tips of her long hair wet and curling now as it spilled down her bare back.

  Neither had taken shoes, so it looked like slow going as they picked their way up the incline that led to the ledge at the top. Though soon enough Rogan called down to where Ethan sat waiting in the boat, “There’s a small trail. We’re not the first ones to get this idea.”

  When the two reached the top, they stood talking for a minute—Ethan couldn’t hear them, but he guessed Rogan was playing cheerleader and probably also giving her instructions. Even from that distance, he couldn’t help but sense a true … newness in her. In fact, he found it downright exhilarating just to watch her. There was something starkly beautiful about seeing her in only those bikini bottoms out in the wild.

  He watched as Rogan took her hand, holding on to it as they stood getting ready to jump. At moments, he did wonder if he’d been taking some kind of chance by bringing her old boyfriend here—it would be impossible not to wonder. But every time the thought occurred to him, he remembered that he trusted their love enough not to have those kinds of fears.

  That’s when Rogan and Mira stepped up near the sandstone edge and a few short seconds later took off with a running start and jumped.

  There was something just magnificent and astounding about her suddenly being bold enough to leap from a cliff, and with her top off, no less. He watched, both excited and anxious as she plunged into the blue water, thinking how cold it must be and that she might be enduring a second or two of fear right now—but he knew she could handle it.

  Still, he breathed a sigh of relief, even letting out a small laugh when her head popped back up through the water’s surface, Rogan’s followed a second later, a few feet away. She appeared a little breathless—but then she smiled. “Did you see me?” she called happily to Ethan.

  “Yep, I saw. You’re completely amazing me r
ight now, by the way!” he yelled back. Then watched as she began to swim in the direction of the small beach.

  “But Rogan lied—this water is freezing!” she yelled over her shoulder, clearly rushing toward the sand.

  A moment later, she rose up out of the lake, the water sluicing from her skin as she got to her feet, and she soon stood on the beach looking cold and soaking wet and gorgeous.

  And as Rogan followed after her, quickly reaching the sand, as well, Ethan heard him say, “Damn, babe, you’re a tougher chick than I thought.”

  Yeah, she was.

  And as she leaned her head back then to soak up the sun, a big smile still brightening her face, Ethan thought her no less than breathtaking. And he suffered the urge to be with her right now on that little stretch of sand. He wanted to give her a hug; he wanted to kiss those wet, berry-colored lips.

  And he couldn’t help wondering, as Rogan approached her, if he felt the same way, if he was as spontaneously drawn to her right now as Ethan was.

  That’s when he noticed her hobbling a little, though, and then sitting down in the sand. “What’s up, honey? What’s wrong?” he shouted.

  “Not sure. Foot hurts,” she called back.

  Damn. He cupped a hand to his mouth. “Stay where you are. I’m coming over.” And as he drove the speedboat closer to shore, nosing the bow up onto the sand, he saw Rogan sitting down with her, lifting her ankle in his palm and beginning to examine the bottom of her foot.

  “See anything?” Ethan yelled to Rogan as he anchored the boat.

  With his eyes still on the sole of her foot, Rogan said, “Yep—looks like she’s got herself a good-size splinter.” Then he lifted his gaze toward Ethan. “Bring the first aid kit. But might not be able to do anything for it right here—gonna need a set of tweezers.”

  Ethan grabbed the little first aid box the boat had come equipped with, then hopped over the side into knee-deep water—shit, it was cold!—and made his way up on to the sand. “How bad does it hurt, baby?” he asked, kneeling next to her.

  “Bad when I put weight on it. It’s fine when I’m sitting down, though.” Only then she shot Rogan a look. “Except for when he keeps poking and prodding at it.”

  He still held her foot. “Had to get a look at it,” he told her defensively.

  Meanwhile, Ethan opened the first aid kit and began rifling through. “Damn, no tweezers.”

  “Didn’t figure there would be,” Rogan said, but then, inspecting the contents himself, he confidently plucked up a small pair of scissors intended for cutting gauze bandages or tape.

  “Uh, what do you think you’re doing with those, mister?” Mira asked doubtfully.

  “Relax, babe,” he said, low, calm—and maybe Ethan would have been more worried, but over the years he’d observed that Rogan was good with first aid. And then he remembered another reason why Rogan had probably been placed on the Hostage Ops Team, and also why Ethan actually thought he made a good cop—it took a lot to ruffle him; he stayed calm and levelheaded when other people might not.

  Now he held the scissors’ blades flat against the ball of her foot where Ethan could see a dark sliver of something embedded, probably a bit of wood or bark she’d stepped on while ascending the sandstone. Keeping his eyes on his work, Rogan spoke slowly, clearly concentrating on what he was doing. “I’m just gonna try to use the tips of the scissors like tweezers and grab the little black tip sticking out. Might not work, but …”

  He went silent then, focusing closely on the scissors—and Mira let out a “Yow” just before Rogan said, “Got it,” and held it up for them to see.

  “My hero,” Mira said, all smiles again, that quickly.

  And Ethan ignored another small pinch of jealousy as he said to her, “Feel better now?” After all, he’d been her hero just a few hours ago, and what Rogan had just done actually seemed a lot more heroic than Ethan’s double-edged offer to apply her sunscreen.

  She nodded. “I think so anyway. Just hurt when he was pulling it out.”

  “We might want to cover that with a bandage, at least until we get back to the cabin, while you’re walking around barefoot,” Rogan suggested. “If we can get one to stay on the bottom of your foot and keep it halfway dry, that is.”

  A few minutes later, they’d bandaged her up, and after she’d gotten to her feet, she announced that it was a little sore but mostly fine.

  “Be good as new in a couple of hours,” Rogan replied easily.

  And Mira smiled up at him. “I didn’t know you were such a splinter expert.”

  He just laughed. “Got a lot as a kid, and I usually took care of ’em myself.”

  The answer was just enough to remind Ethan that Rogan had had a pretty bad childhood, and it occurred to him that, though they’d never discussed it, Mira probably knew more about that than he did.

  Ethan was just about to suggest they all get back on the boat when Mira, clearly in a good mood now that the splinter was gone, looked playfully up at Rogan to ask, “What can I ever do to repay you, kind sir?”

  Rogan just took on a slightly lascivious look and said, “I’m sure I could think of a few things.” Then his gaze dropped to the front of his shorts.

  Ethan guessed Mira noticed the same thing he did, at about the same time, since she bit her lip and flashed Rogan an amused expression. “You got a hard-on removing a splinter from my foot?”

  Rogan simply laughed, shrugged. “Doesn’t take much for me. Especially when it comes to you. Never did. But you probably remember that.”

  It surprised Ethan when that, of all things, made her lower her eyes, her cheeks blooming with a soft blush beneath the sun she’d picked up today. Maybe because Rogan had referenced their old relationship in front of him.

  “And besides, you have great tits and you being topless this whole time has kinda kept me turned on.”

  The words made Ethan think once more about this bold new Mira. And Rogan was right: She did have great tits—medium-size, soft but perky, with mauve-colored nipples that were almost always erect. He’d almost forgotten about her being topless when the splinter had put her in pain—he’d been more concerned with taking care of her and hoping it didn’t hurt too much. But now that Rogan had drawn her near nudity back to his attention, now that she stood before him in the sand, wet brown hair flipped back over her head and beginning to dry in the sun, wearing nothing but those little bikini bottoms—hell, he was starting to get excited all over again, too.

  When Mira looked at Ethan, he could see the beginnings of fresh lust sparkling in her eyes, as well, so he reminded her, “It’s your birthday, your weekend, hon. Do whatever you want.”

  And she responded by taking on a mischievous look the likes of which Ethan had never seen on her face before. “Then I think the only appropriate thing for me to do is thank Rogan properly.”

  After which she gave her lower lip a provocative little bite, stepped forward to deftly pulled the tie on Rogan’s trunks, then shoved them down until they fell around his ankles, revealing his completely erect dick.

  Then, dropping to her knees before him, she took it into her mouth.

  Chapter 9

  Rogan’s head dropped back as his groan echoed skyward. And Ethan’s own erection lengthened, hardened, as he watched his girl pleasure his old friend with her mouth. She worked with her eyes shut, one fist wrapped around the base of Rogan’s cock, moving her lips vigorously up and down the large shaft.

  He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her be this sexually aggressive, and he discovered he found it wildly arousing even as he suffered a little more jealousy. Damn, what was THAT part about? Because at the moment, he couldn’t deny the piercing sting of it, and that it went beyond any previous such emotion he’d experienced last night or today. Why was he feeling that? He’d invited Rogan here, after all. He’d invited all of this to take place. It had been his idea; he’d wanted it.

  Maybe he just hadn’t ever envisioned her going down on Rogan first, and so dam
n enthusiastically, too. Maybe on some level he’d sort of seen Rogan as being … on the periphery of it all, just a third body, a second penis, when needed. If so, that had been stupidly naive and shortsighted of him, and he had to just accept the reality now that Rogan was a full and equal partner in their sex this weekend. But had he ever seen Mira go down on him that energetically? The sensation of being excited and envious at the same time was strange as hell.

  Okay, so clearly he’d thought he’d be more in control of the sex they shared with Rogan. But you told her to do what she wanted, that this was all about her. How on earth did you think you’d control the sex if you encouraged her to control it, too? Yep, he definitely hadn’t thought through that part very well. Had he been foolish to put all this in motion? Would he end up regretting it somehow?

  But just then, she released Rogan from her mouth and turned, still kneeling, to look up at him.

  Yeah, that’s more like it, honey. Her gaze swam with hungry lust and he knew without either of them saying a word that it was his turn now. About damn time.

  He stepped near her, peered down on her—and he thought about undoing his trunks but decided to leave that for her. She’d gone after Rogan’s cock; she could go after his, too. He wasn’t angry at her—hell, how could he be?—but he felt the urge to make her be aggressive now, make her work for it a little.

  She clearly didn’t mind that, either, since she immediately untied his shorts in front, then tugged them down until she was face-to-face with his dick. And the way she looked on it so longingly … well, hell—plain and simple, it killed that jealousy of his in a heartbeat. It wasn’t Rogan she’d wanted—it was cock. It was as Rogan—and she—had said on the boat earlier: She wanted two cocks. And that was what he’d wanted her to have, what had started this whole thing—he’d wanted to give her an experience he couldn’t provide by himself.