by Mari Carr
Price appreciated Gunner’s consideration. He could see Denise did too.
Gunner grasped her hand and kissed her palm. Price expected some of the jealousy he’d experienced during the ceremony to return, but it didn’t. Instead, he felt a spark of arousal at the sight of Gunner touching their woman.
Interesting.
“We’re going to put all of this behind us tonight. Focus on the positive stuff that happened today,” Gunner promised her.
Denise looked down, her confidence fading. “You think this is positive? The three of us?”
Gunner grinned. “Hell yeah. Don’t you?”
She shrugged and glanced toward the open door of the car. Price had placed himself far enough away that he was hidden in the shadows but still able to see her. “I guess so. I mean—” she lowered her voice and Price found himself bending forward to hear, “—I don’t think Price is attracted to me. You know, that way. I was wondering if…”
Her words drifted away, but he’d heard enough. They went through him like a knife.
“You want to know if I’m sexually attracted to you?” Gunner asked.
Denise nodded.
“I want you so bad it hurts.” Gunner took their still-linked hands and rubbed her fingers along his chest. “Soon I’ll show you exactly how much.”
Deni’s eyes widened. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
Gunner kissed her, that same sweet meeting of lips they’d shared back at the library. Price knew he’d never be able to offer her the same. His desire for her had risen to ridiculous levels, his cock so hard he feared he’d split the seam in his dress pants. What he felt for the little innocent was far from tame. It was primal, wild, ready to be unleashed.
He’d show Denise Parker exactly how attracted he was to her.
“Go to the hotel with Price and take a nice long, hot shower. When I get there, we’ll order room service and start figuring things out. Okay?”
Denise nodded and then climbed into the car. Gunner leaned forward, his gaze capturing Price’s.
“Don’t start without me, you two.” Though his words were spoken in an easy, friendly tone, Price didn’t miss the warning on the man’s face.
“We’re a threesome,” Price said, issuing his own reminder. “Remember?”
Gunner nodded once and then shut the door.
Denise turned to look out the window, but Price wasn’t willing to give her any space. He moved, claiming the spot next to her.
“Denise.”
“My name is Deni.”
For some reason, he couldn’t call her that, couldn’t picture her as anything other than Denise. “I know.”
“But you’re still not going to use that name, are you?”
He shook his head. “No. Deni is a girl’s name. You aren’t a little girl. You’re a woman. My woman.”
“That sounds ridiculously caveman-like.”
Price grinned. “Maybe so, but I take care of what’s mine.”
She bit her lower lip, a nervous gesture Price was beginning to find endearing. He reached up and tugged on her chin, forcing her to stop.
“Don’t hurt those lips. I intend to spend hours kissing them later.”
She blinked rapidly. “But I thought—”
“I heard what you thought. You’re wrong. I’m very attracted to you, Denise. Do you want proof?”
Her gaze drifted to his pants. He didn’t bother to cover the obvious erection pressing against the fabric. When she realized where she was looking, her gaze snapped back to his face.
“You understand what’s going to happen tonight?”
She nodded. “We’re going to have sex.”
“All three of us. Do you masturbate?”
Her face flushed. “What?”
“It’s a simple enough question.”
“Why do you want to know?”
He leaned closer, letting her adjust to his nearness. This time, she didn’t flinch or move away. Progress. “I need to know exactly what your past experiences have involved. You’ve never had intercourse with a man, but what about foreplay?”
She pressed her eyes closed tightly and looked away. “No one’s ever touched me. Down there.”
“Yourself included?”
She didn’t open her eyes. “I have.”
“How?”
She released a long breath but didn’t reply.
Price cupped her cheek, forced her to face him. “Open your eyes, Denise. There will be no secrets between us. Not anymore. How do you touch yourself?”
“I rub my clit.”
“And?”
“I use my fingers.”
“How many?”
She pushed his hand away from her face. “God, does this really matter?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he waited, holding her gaze.
“I don’t know. Two, three?”
“What about toys? Dildos. Vibrators.”
“I don’t own any. When I feel horny, I just use my fingers, rub myself until I…”
“Come?”
She nodded. “Sometimes. Sometimes the feeling just sort of goes away and I stop.”
“The feeling stops?”
She blushed and lifted one shoulder in response.
“I’ll make sure it never goes away again.” Over the course of the afternoon, Price had run the gamut of emotions. From annoyance to wounded pride, confusion to anger. Now he was overwhelmed by this…this unexplainable need to stake an irrefutable claim on Denise Parker. He’d known her less than a few hours and yet the connection was there, growing stronger by the minute.
The idea that Gunner would be there as well somehow sweetened the pot. Price had always known he’d found his niche, his place in life. The Trinity Masters fit him like a glove, their philosophies, their lifestyle. Everything.
“You belong to us now, Denise. Gunner and I will take care of those needs for you.”
“Can I ask a question?”
He grinned. “Of course.”
“How does it work with three of us? Will you just take turns? Or…”
“Or?”
She shook her head. “You’re the one with all the answers. Just tell me.”
Her expression told him she knew what his response would be. Even so, he’d just promised they wouldn’t have secrets. “Tonight, I suspect we’ll take turns as you said. You’re new to this and neither of us wants to hurt or scare you.”
“But,” she prompted.
“Eventually, we will expand on your experience.”
“How?” Her voice was growing stronger with each question, her curiosity stronger than her reticence.
He liked her best when she was in the mood to challenge him. “We’re going to fuck your ass and your mouth and I have every intention of putting my cock between those pretty tits of yours and—”
“Got it.” She raised her hand. “I don’t need to hear anything else.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He frowned. “You will always have a choice.”
She seemed genuinely surprised by his response. “Oh. Well, I think I’d like to try that.”
“Which part?”
She looked away as she said, “All of it.”
He chuckled. “Good. But I think we’d better change the subject or I’m going to forget all about Gunner and take you right here in the limo.”
She gave him a wicked grin. “Probably not a good idea to piss off a man with a gun.”
Price placed his arm along the backseat, stroking her hair. “I’m not worried. Mine’s bigger.”
“Overcompensating for something?”
He tugged on her hair and laughed. “You’re a minx. And you’re only baiting the bear. New topic. Who do you think did that to your apartment?”
Denise sobered up and shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“It didn’t seem like that earlier. When we discovered the paint on the wall, you called them assholes. It sounded li
ke you suspected someone.”
“I gave a speech a few months ago at the library about the importance of stem-cell research. We were trying to raise funds for a new project we’re working on. Grant money has been harder and harder to come by in this economy. There were some protestors there. They caused a ruckus and the police even arrested their leader, some scary-looking dude they all called the Reverend, although if he’s ordained in any legitimate church, I’d be seriously shocked.”
“What was their protest based on?”
“The same old controversy that always surrounds my research. There are a lot of people who disagree with scientists using human embryos. But if the idiot had listened to my speech instead of climbing on his soapbox and spouting inanities, he would have heard me say we rarely use human tissue at the institute as it’s very hard to get. Most of my work is done with Mus musculus.”
Price tilted his head and she laughed.
“Sorry. Fancy name for mice. In the mouse cell we only use trophoblastic cells, which are the cells that eventually become the chorion, the embryonic placenta. They are the inner mass cells, which actually become the embryo we leave alone. We believe—”
Price held up his hand to stop her. “Let’s cut to the chase. Do you think this Reverend guy could be behind the break-in?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid he’s just one of many who aren’t fond of my work. I can’t really point the finger at him specifically. I mean, we’ve been getting some pretty nasty phone calls lately at the lab, but the voice is always female, so that’s obviously not the Reverend. Then someone keyed the door of my car. I’ve been driving around town for two weeks with the word Satan scratched in the paint. I haven’t had time to take it to the shop to get it fixed.”
Price’s temper flared as she described the attacks. “Did you report any of this to the police?”
She lifted one shoulder, casually dismissing the danger. “No. I’ve been busy and none of it was that terrible. Until tonight.” Her voice broke a little on the last word. Price was almost relieved to spy that slightest bit of emotion on her part. She’d been too calm since they’d left her apartment.
“I’m sure your insurance policy will cover the damages. Besides, you may not need to replace it all. My house is fully furnished.”
She frowned. “So?”
Price didn’t have time to answer as the limousine pulled up in front of the hotel. “We’ll finish this discussion when Gunner arrives.”
Roman opened the door and Price helped Denise out of the car. He held her hand, marveling at the difference a few hours could bring. He’d begun the day a footloose, fancy-free bachelor, and then spent the majority of his afternoon pissed as shit. Tonight, he would fall asleep with his virgin bride and an FBI agent. He chuckled to himself.
Life had just become intriguing.
Chapter Three
Gunner stood outside the door to the hotel suite, staring at the keycard in his hand. Nothing about today had turned out the way he had expected. And yet, he couldn’t imagine a better outcome. He’d had a thing for Deni Parker since the first day they’d met. Unfortunately, geography and the Trinity Masters had kept him from pursuing her. He knew he’d never be satisfied with a long-distance relationship and he never doubted he would fall in love with her. Because of his membership in the Trinity Masters, he’d held back, unwilling to risk her heart—and his—on something that couldn’t last.
He pressed his head against the cool wood of the door and grinned. Deni was part of the Trinity Masters. She was the last person on earth he would have pegged as a member, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. There was no denying she was brilliant. Beneath her wrinkled clothing, wholesome face and endearing shyness lurked an intelligent mind and a kind heart. That combination had been deadly to his libido for years.
Now she was his. They’d pledged to spend their lives together.
With Price.
Price Bennett was the reason Gunner wasn’t throwing open the hotel door and rushing straight into Deni’s arms. The man was a crouching tiger in a two-thousand dollar custom-made suit. He was the unknown variable. And after nearly a decade with the FBI, Gunner had come to hate indefinites. It was his job to uncover secrets, expose lies, and he was determined to figure Price out.
The problem was time. He didn’t have any. Once he entered the hotel room, for better or worse, he was going to have to put his trust in a man he didn’t know. And that was something he’d never done before. While waiting for the bomb squad to disarm the device in Deni’s apartment, Gunner had run a background check on Price.
He had to admit what he’d discovered about the man professionally impressed him. Price was the CEO and owner of one of top—if not the best—international security companies in the world. He had offices in Boston, New York, London, Istanbul and Hong Kong and his employees had protected everyone from princes to rock stars to ambassadors.
The success of his Fortune 500 company, along with a pile of old family money, had landed Price a spot on the list of the world’s most eligible billionaires for three years running. Needless to say, the man had a reputation as a lady-killer. He’d been romantically linked to two movie stars, a fashion model and the reigning queen of Billboard’s Top 40 list.
While the three of them were supposed to be partners, not adversaries, Gunner suspected battle lines would be drawn quickly if Price did anything to hurt Deni. He’d spotted the man sitting in her office earlier, prior to the ceremony. Now he understood what Deni meant by a long story.
Given Deni’s shocked response when Price removed his hood, she hadn’t been expecting—or thrilled—by the match. In fact, until discovering the break-in at her apartment, Gunner had gotten a sense Deni was afraid of Price.
He didn’t blame her. He was well aware of Deni’s inexperience with men. Price seemed to be ten men rolled into one. And while Price would be hard enough for Deni to handle on her own, she didn’t have just him to contend with. She had Gunner as well. As much as he wanted to take tonight slow, to offer Deni the magic and romance she deserved, he feared he didn’t have it in him. Price’s presence was a challenge. He had wanted to be the one at the ceremony grasping Deni’s face and giving her that hard, open-mouthed kiss he guaranteed she’d never forget.
He wasn’t an easy lover. He’d never played that role, but Deni would likely cast him in it because to her he was easygoing, friendly, harmless Gunner. Somehow he had to open her eyes to the real Gunner, reveal the true man without frightening her or losing her trust.
Gunner straightened. There was only one path to walk. And it was through this door.
He entered the suite. It was incredibly elegant, luxurious. Price stood behind a bar, pouring a drink while Deni sat on a plush loveseat. She’d obviously showered, her long blonde hair still damp and neatly brushed back. She appeared to be wearing one of Price’s company T-shirts, the Bennett Security logo emblazoned on it. It was ridiculously large and hung to her knees. Clearly even that wasn’t enough material for Deni as she continued to tug it lower. Without makeup and her hair hanging loose, she looked incredibly young. Her shyness was going to present a very big obstacle for them.
He nodded once when Price silently lifted a bottle of whiskey and pointed to him. He watched as the other man poured out two shots. He could use a belt. Or three.
Deni had already helped herself to a drink. A half-full wineglass sat on the side table next to her.
“Was it a bomb?” she asked.
He crossed the room and sank down next to her. “I’m afraid so. It’s been disarmed. My friend at the FBI took it back to the office to study. Maybe the design will trigger an MO, give us a suspect. He wants to question you tomorrow morning.” Gunner looked at Price. “I’m going to ask him to come here. I suspect this place is secure enough. I’d rather not risk taking Deni out in the open until we determine exactly how serious this threat is.”
Price claimed the chair across from them. “I’d say a bomb makes it pr
etty damn serious, but I agree. It’s too dangerous to take her out in the open. The man can come here to talk to her.”
Deni leaned forward, piercing them both with her glare. “Oh, I’m sorry. When did I leave the room?”
Gunner grinned. Deni was equal parts sweet and sassy. “Deni,” he started.
Price scowled. “It doesn’t matter if you’re in the room or not, Denise. Gunner and I are going to keep you safe. Given the fact we’re both trained professionals in security, and you’re not, it makes sense for us to make the arrangements.”
“Not when it’s my life you’re talking about. I told you earlier, I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
Price shook his head. “That’s not going to happen.”
Deni stood up. The T-shirt stopped just shy of her knees, giving Gunner a clear view of her trim calves. The woman lived in jeans, and it occurred to him he’d never seen her in a skirt. They’d have to buy her some. She had beautiful legs.
Walking around the coffee table, Deni planted herself directly in front of Price. She was pissed. “I’ve had it up to here with your proclamations. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but no one tells me what to do. I may be young and I may not know a lot of stuff about sex and shit like that, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.”
She was furious and waving her arms about, making her agitation obvious. The day’s events were clearly catching up to her. Deni tried to be a fighter, but she wasn’t particularly good at it. Gunner turned his head, lest she catch him grinning at her flustered attempts at asserting her authority. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about Price after all. Deni, in her cute, clumsy way, was handling the man just fine. “I’m perfectly capable of organizing my own affairs,” she added.
To his credit, Price let her have her say, keeping his seat rather than standing and stealing the power position away from her. “Are you really? Dead cell phone? Driving a scratched-up car? Not bothering to check your email? These are considered good organizational skills?”
Deni put her hands on her hips. “I’m serious about my job. Those other things don’t matter.”