by Jodi Redford
Still, it didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the little time she did have left with them. “In that case, I’m all yours.”
~*~
T hank God for GPS. Without it, she’d probably still be aimlessly driving around Birmingham’s congested downtown business district. Spying a coveted available parking space right in front of Calico Rose, she clicked on her blinker and veered into the spot before someone could steal it out from under her nose.
Snatching her purse, she climbed out of her vehicle and rushed in the direction of the restaurant. Despite it being well past the lunchtime crush, the place was still packed. She easily spotted Harper’s vibrant red hair amongst the bottleneck up by the bar. Praying there wasn’t a long wait, she hurried toward her friend. Securing her purse strap on her shoulder, she returned Harper’s hug. “Sorry I’m a little late. I didn’t do so great factoring in the traffic.”
“No worries. I ran into a familiar face while I was waiting.” Harper gestured to the petite brunette next to her. “This is Marissa. She’s Kinky Claus’s fiancé.”
“Um...nice to meet you.” Bemused, Regan shook the woman’s hand.
Marissa grinned. “Likewise. And for the record, I usually just call him Trig. Less likely to get us odd looks in public.”
“Trig is one of our dancers,” Harper explained.
Ah. Now it made sense. Sort of. “I take it his routine has something to do with Santa?”
“And a very big candy cane.” Harper waggled her eyebrows.
Marissa offered Regan a worried look. “I hope you don’t mind having me as a third wheel during your lunch.”
“Not at all.”
A frazzled waitress approached and informed Harper that their table was ready. Grateful to leave the claustrophobic atmosphere of the bar, Regan exhaled in relief and trailed after her friend. The waitress led them to a booth overlooking the curbside patio. After leaving them to peruse the menu, she dashed off.
Harper sighed. “Something tells me it’ll be a while until we see any drinks.” She shifted her attention to Regan. A sparkle danced in her eyes. “So...”
Here comes the Spanish Inquisition. Deliberately playing dumb, she schooled her expression into the blankest one she could manufacture and returned Harper’s stare.
Harper snorted. “You have the worst poker face in existence.”
Damn.
“Did you do the nasty with them?”
Her cheeks blazing, Regan peeked in Marissa’s direction. Harper guffawed. “Do you honestly think that Kinky Claus’s woman is going to be scandalized by you getting it on with two hotties?”
“Oh my Lord.” Regan sent Marissa an apologetic look. “If I had to pay a buck for every time she says something mortifying I’d be flat busted broke.”
Marissa chuckled. “Trust me, I know the feeling. My friend Jane is exactly the same way.”
Feeling like she’d met a kindred spirit, she returned Marissa’s smile.
“Well, what gives?” Harper persisted. “Did you do it or not?”
“Can you be any nosier?”
“Aha!” Harper wagged a finger at Regan. “You did .”
“Why would you jump to that conclusion?”
“Because you chose to be evasive rather than confirm or deny.” Harper stacked her arms on the tabletop, her expression smug.
Regan sighed resignedly. “Yes, I did. But you’re not getting any dirty details, so get that idea out of your head.”
“Killjoy.” Harper plopped her chin in her hand. “Can you at least share a tiny tidbit? Did they get it on with each other too?” Her gaze turned dreamy. “God, gotta love those bi boys.”
She gaped at Harper. “You’ve been with one before?”
“Well, technically it was two . For obvious reasons.”
“When did that happen?”
Harper started to open her mouth, but immediately snapped it shut, mischief flickering in her eyes. “Nuh uh. To get some info you’re gonna have to spill some first.”
Twitching her nose, Regan fidgeted with her napkin. “No, they’re completely straight.”
Harper’s pixie-like features softened. She reached across the table and took Regan’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”
Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, she pulled from Harper’s grip. “Don’t be. I’m definitely not complaining.”
“Ooh.” Harper slid her gaze to Marissa. “Is it just me or did that sound like code for I-had-headboard-rocking-sex-with-two-studs-but-I’m-not-sharing-the-deets-with-my-best-friend-because-I’m-an-insufferable-jerk?”
Regan balled up her napkin and lobbed it at Harper. “I’m still waiting for your deets, jackass.”
“Oh, yeah.” Harper leaned back on the bench seat. “It was a couple years ago. I’d been kind of seeing this guy named Holden. I don’t know if you remember him.”
She racked her brain, trying to dredge up the pertinent recollection. “Vaguely.”
“Anyway, I knew he was bi when I first met him. And I swear that was not the reason we hooked up,” she added with a chuckle. “Nothing even occurred in that department until Dare showed up.”
“Dare?” Regan prodded.
“Holden’s ex.” The dreamy look returned to Harper’s eyes. “He was 6 foot, eight inches of set-your-panties-on-fire sin.”
“Wow, he was a tall one,” Marissa interjected. “Was he a basketball player?”
“Nope, dancer. The eight inches I was referring to rested below the belt, if you catch my drift.”
Regan grunted. Leave it to Harper to factor that into the dimensions. “By dancer, I assume you mean stripper?”
“Ahem, the correct term is erotic entertainer. And to answer your question, yes.”
“I thought you didn’t sleep with erotic entertainers ,” Regan couldn’t resist reminding her best friend.
“He didn’t work for Uncks, so it was perfectly acceptable to break my rule once. Although in Dare’s case, I’d be tempted to lift the ban permanently. Holy crapballs, that man could gyrate his hips in superhuman ways.”
Marissa’s sigh piggybacked Harper’s. “God bless a man who knows how to slow grind to Pony.”
“Amen, sistah.” Harper high-fived Marissa.
Regan chuckled at their enthusiasm. “So why only once with Dare?”
“He was only in town for the one night. Then Holden and I stopped seeing each other. Trust me, I’ve thought about looking Dare up, but I don’t want to seem desperate or pathetic. Nothing worse than ruining a beautiful memory by expecting more out of a one night stand.”
Somehow Regan kept her smile in place, but inside her heart twisted at the truth of her best friend’s statement. Yes, her one night stand with Mason and Nash had tumbled into the next morning. And considering their plans for the evening, it’d most likely continue through another night. Possibly tomorrow morning too...
You need to stop this before you get in too deep. Before she got addicted to a nonexistent forever with them.
Her chest heavy, she acknowledged the necessity of that course of action. Even while everything inside her longed for the impossible.
CHAPTER NINE
“L aser tag? Seriously, bro? That’s got to be the dumbest idea for a date in all written history.”
Nash cocked an eyebrow. “You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”
“I didn’t think of it because I’m not twelve.”
“Women fucking love laser tag.”
Mason grunted. “Twelve year old girls , maybe.”
“Oh ye of little faith. Want to place a bet on how much she’s going to love it? Say fifty bucks and a lifetime of admitting you don’t know jack-shit?”
“You’re on. Gonna really enjoy rubbing my superior knowledge into
your face.”
With that wager kicked off to a properly needling start, Nash rang the doorbell. Regan appeared a few seconds later, and his heart stumbled a beat. She was so damn beautiful, it stole his breath. Yes, he was no stranger to sexy women, but Regan surpassed them all by a landslide. It wasn’t merely her pretty face and knockout body that elevated her above the others. An inner grace and sweetness radiated from her. She was also completely void of any pretensions—something that he truly valued, considering he was a little rough around the edges. He couldn’t see Regan ever looking down on him for it.
She chewed her lip. “I winged my outfit, since I had no idea what we’re doing.”
He scanned every inch of her scrumptious body. She wore a lacy yellow sundress that hit just above her knees, leaving the mouthwatering expanse of her tanned legs bared to his entranced stare. It took minimal effort to conjure an image of them wrapped around his waist while he fucked her against the doorframe. If not for the distinct possibility it’d earn a visit from the cops, he would have been tempted to turn the fantasy into a reality. “You look good enough to eat. Which makes me think maybe I should nix the laser tag.”
“That’s the wisest thing you’ve said all week,” Mason intoned dryly.
“Laser tag?” Regan grinned. “That sounds like fun.”
Nash sent Mason a pointed look. His best friend chuffed in response. “I’m not conceding yet. Fun doesn’t necessary translate into love.”
“Yeah, whatever delusion makes you feel better.”
Amusement tipped the corner of Mas’s mouth. “Jackass.” He transferred his focus to Regan’s feet. “Sweetness, you might want to at least bring along some flat shoes.”
She smoothed a hand over her skirt. “I can always change.”
“And deprive us of ogling your legs all night? Darlin’, that’d be cruel and unusual punishment.”
A pretty flush of pink riding high on her cheekbones, she scooted back into the front vestibule and grabbed a pair of leather sandals. “Will these work?”
“Yep.” Nash waited for her to finish locking up the house before crooking his elbow toward her. Flashing a smile, she accepted the invitation and allowed him to escort her to the Hummer.
The drive to the laser tag range proved a short one, thanks to it being only a few blocks past Algonac’s city limits. He glanced around the near-deserted parking lot. “Huh. Looks like we have the place practically to ourselves.”
“Probably because it’s past curfew for their main audience.”
“I’m gonna truly enjoy taking you down like the Nancy boy you are.”
“Yeah, whatever delusions make you feel better,” Mason parroted.
Despite the continued ribbing about the date locale, a spark of anticipation lit Mason’s eyes as he shrugged the harness vest on. Once he was situated, he helped Regan with her gear. He whispered something in her ear before kissing her neck.
Momentarily distracted by the breathy sound she made, Nash adjusted his fly and tested the sight on his scope. “Everyone ready?”
Regan glanced at him. “Um, what exactly are the rules again?”
“Rules are for pussies.”
“In case you forgot, I happen to have one of those.”
“Sugar, I most definitely did not forget and I plan on reacquainting with yours real soon. But first I’ve got to remind Mas who’s the better soldier.” He led the way to the cavernous arena where their game was about to get started. “Seeing it’s only the three of us, we’re going with an elimination match.” He directed the remainder of his words to Regan since she was the only laser tag virgin in their trio. “The objective is to hit your target five times, taking them out of the game. The last one of us standing will be proclaimed victor and reign forever on the throne of Sheer Badassery.”
She nodded. “Gotcha.”
He hauled her against him and kissed her passionately, going generous with the tongue. Her whimper filling him with desire and pride, he released her and swatted her ass. “I’ll be claiming my pussy tariff soon, wench.”
“Oh Lord.” Laughing, Regan clutched her tagging gun tight to her chest and hustled her ass toward the opposite end of the room.
The overhead lights flicked off and the controller armed the system of laser beams crisscrossing the obstacle course. Nash veered his attention to the left. Mason had already vanished, no doubt on the hunt for a prime spot to lay low and pick off his targets.
Right on cue, Regan’s curse sounded up ahead. Nash sighed. Looked like he and Mas would be duking it out for the Top Dog title sooner than he’d anticipated.
Sorry, darlin’. Ducking behind a fluorescent neon blue wall, Nash skulked in the direction of Mason’s drop zone. Zero motion other than the occasional flicker of the strobing lights. Still, he knew Mas was lying in wait.
Anticipation a tangible taste in his mouth, Nash hunkered low, sweeping the area before belly-crawling to the adjacent tunnel. He ducked inside the tube and strategized his next move. His biggest benefit was he knew his Ranger brother’s field tactics. The biggest dis advantage? Mas knew his. Being squared against a worthy opponent made the challenge that more difficult. And rewarding.
He started to abandon the tube just as a flash of movement to the left drew his attention. Tucking his tagger scope to his eye, he prepared to take aim. Regan shuffled into view, the target on her vest deactivated. Nash fished his cell from his pocket and eyed the display. Mas took her out in less than five minutes. Laser tag is for twelve year olds, my ass. If that was the case, Mason was quickly regressing in age.
Nash waited for Regan to look his way before depressing his trigger, marking the spot right in front of the tunnel with his laser. Regan caught the signal and trotted toward him. Snagging her hand, he assisted her inside and held a finger to her lips when she started to speak. Her gaze conveying her acknowledgement of the need for stealth, she nodded. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “How long ago did he take you out?”
“Maybe a minute ago.”
Which meant Mas had found himself another spot to bunker down. No way he’d risk Regan revealing his hiding spot. “You stay here.” He started to crawl forward, but Regan’s hand slipping beneath his tee shirt stalled him short.
She pressed her lips to his jaw, her nibbling kisses too distracting for words. “Do you have any idea how much this turns me on?”
“What, laser tag?”
She giggled. “No. Seeing you in soldier mode. Freakin’ hot.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm hm.” Her hand reversed course and fondled his fly. “G.I. Joe has nothing on you.”
Well, damn. Taking Mas out could wait another second. No rush. He leaned forward to kiss Regan just as a shadow passed over the mouth of the tube. He jerked his focus back a second too late. His expression gloating, Mason rapid-fired Nash’s target, killing his lives with embarrassing speed and lack of effort. Once he’d finished him off, Mas sent Regan a finger gun salute. “Thanks, partner.”
Nash gaped at her. “You set me up?” Even before she nodded sheepishly his thoughts raced to the whisper Mas gave her back when they were getting their gear on. “Sonofabitch.”
“I’m sorry, but he promised me ice cream at Culvers. How could I say no?”
That motherfucker used the dirtiest trick in the book to flush out his target. Grumpily impressed, Nash climbed from the tunnel. “Well played.”
Mason clasped him on the shoulder. “Know the enemy’s weakness and you’ll never fail.”
Shit, wasn’t that the truth. Returning his attention to Regan, he helped his biggest weakness to her feet. Once she was clear of the tunnel, he glanced at Mason. “Suppose this means I’m never gonna hear the end of your bragging rights.”
“Nope. But as the reigning king of badassery, I’ll show my excessive generosity by letting you go down on her pussy firs
t.”
Well, shit. How could he say no to that ?
~*~
E ating ice cream with Regan easily qualified as the mother of all blue ball instigators. On top of continually having to tell his dick to pipe down—it’d be inside her soon enough—he had to contend with watching her inadvertently give the sexiest blowjob demo via her ice cream cone. He swore he felt every teasing swirl of her tongue as she licked the soft serve.
Hell, that ice cream was the only soft thing in the vehicle. Judging from the way Mas continued to adjust his fly, he was equally affected by her enjoyment of the frozen treat.
They reached the house in record time. Thank Christ Regan finished her cone, otherwise he’d have cause to weep. Leaving Mason to lock up the Hummer, he swung Regan into his arms. She clutched his shoulders. “I’m starting to get the notion that you guys don’t think I can walk.”
“Darlin’, by the time I’m done with you that will be a certainty.”
The shaky breath that escaped her hinted that she was A-Okay with that scenario. He hustled her up the steps and balanced her against the siding, taking advantage of Mason’s hunt for the house keys by indulging in a lazy kiss. Regan submitted to his questing tongue with a blissful sigh. Before the night was done she’d be making more sexy sounds like that. A lot more.
Finally Mason fumbled the door open and they piled inside the entry. They got no further than the living room before the need to tear clothes off became a frantic necessity. Divesting her of her dress, he palmed her ass cheeks and drew her in for another searing kiss. She rubbed against him, the damp status of her panties evident against his belly. Sucking a breath between his teeth, he pivoted and lowered her onto the couch. Using both hands to spread her legs open, he lowered his head and licked her through the drenched satin. The sweet muskiness of her pussy filled his nostrils, inciting a riot of lust. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to tug her bikini to the side and bury his cock inside her.
Instead he hooked the elastic resting on her hips and dragged the scrap of fabric down. He tossed the garment aside and focused on eating his dessert. Spreading her pussy lips with his thumbs, he curled his tongue over her clit, concentrating all of his oral devotion on the sopping nub. She bucked against his mouth, gasping. Gripping her hips, he pinned her in place, guaranteeing no escape from his feasting.