by Calista Fox
“Yeah, there is that.” Bayli fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. She’d come from the library when Jewel had texted her that she was in town for a quick stop before hopping the pond for a work thing and would meet her at the apartment.
“It’s a very fascinating situation,” Jewel told her. “Learning that two men actually get more turned on, get even harder, when they’re working together to satisfy a woman.”
“What it’s like?” Bayli asked with bated breath. “Really. Don’t hold anything back. Please, Jewel.”
Okay, so she was a bit eager beaver. A bit desperate.
Jewel smiled. “Well, to be perfectly honest, I can’t tell you exactly what it’s like. That’s all up to Christian and Rory. And you. But with Rogen, Vin, and me…” Her grin brightened. “It’s a flood of sensations and emotions. I feel every little thing they do to me, only it’s magnified by a million. My skin is more sensitive. My pulse soars. My body is infinitely more responsive. All because of how I feel about them and how much they cherish me. How their biggest concern is making me feel good, making me happy.”
“And how do they do that? Make you happy? One at a time or…?”
“Together?”
Another long sip. Bayli’s cheeks flushed and she hated that she still struggled with what to fully expect.
Jewel said, “Together. And believe me, it’s nothing short of volcanic. You just have to be open to it, understand that they’re focused on you and what pleases you. They’re sort of a different breed, you know?”
“Hmm. Yes. I’m starting to see that. Except…” Crap. Here came the delicate. “What am I supposed to do when they’re into something I know absolutely nothing about?”
Jewel frowned. “Such as?”
“Such as!” Her eyes bulged. “Jesus, Jewel! Were you the one to write Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* but Were Afraid to Ask?”
“I could have been a coauthor.” She winked.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Wineglass in hand, Bayli paced her tiny living room.
“Come on … joking.” Jewel laughed softly. “But you have to remember that Rogen and I were having sex from the time we were sixteen. Then Vin and I got together when I was eighteen, and let me just say … he’d been dating an older woman—a twenty-eight-year-old divorcée—so he had plenty of experience under his belt. I learned fairly young.”
“But you couldn’t have known everything.”
“No. But what I didn’t know they taught me. And that, my friend, is the absolute best way to learn new tricks.”
“Great. That’s oh so helpful. Thanks.”
Jewel stood. She clasped Bayli’s shoulders and said, “Whatever you’re stressing over, don’t. These two gorgeous and prominent men seem very into you, Bay. They’ve done this before, so let them lead. They’ll ease your mind. All they’ll want is for you to enjoy yourself. That means doing whatever they can to acclimate you and make you comfortable.”
“Acclimate me. Sounds like a science project.”
“To you, sure. Stop thinking scientifically or metaphysically or any other kind of ‘ically.’ Just give yourself to them, Bayli. I swear to God, men who thrive on this type of sexual relationship have a certain level of understanding when it comes to making a woman climax that other guys just don’t get. It’s worth whatever fretting you’re doing right now. But in the end, you’ll realize you wigged for no good reason, because they’re going to get you through this. They’re going to take care of you. And you of all people deserve that, my friend.” She kissed Bayli on the cheek.
“You’re going to make me cry,” Bayli said around a sniffle. “And for God’s sake, I’ve done enough of that already this week. I’m like some hormonal teenager trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do if no one asks me to the prom.”
“Three guys asked you to the prom, silly.”
“And I told Billy Geyser that I’d go with him.”
“Ah, yes. Captain of the football team. God, he was good looking. What a frame-worthy photo that would have made.”
“Except that I ended up in ICU with my mom an hour before he was supposed to pick me up for dinner.”
“That totally sucked.” Jewel sighed. “On the plus side, that particular emergency surgery was hugely helpful for your mother. A success.”
“Her last one, but yes. That was the biggie that made it possible for me to go to college for a couple of years, because she had an excellent recovery. For a while.”
“I’m sorry you missed prom.” Jewel gave her a quick squeeze. Then said, “But I know the extra time with your mom was infinitely more important.”
Bayli choked down the emotion in her throat. She didn’t want to get all weepy yet again.
Luckily, Jewel knew her well enough not to let her dwell or mire. She cheerfully said, “I guess all of this is just excellent timing on my part.”
“What are you talking about?” Bayli asked.
“Well…” Turning to the kitchen counter, Jewel said, “I sort of lied when I said I was on my way to London and that I carted around this big box because I didn’t trust my driver with it while he’s looking for a place to park and wait for me.” Her manicured hand swept over the large white package with the silver bow on top.
“Jewel…” Bayli eyed her friend speculatively. “What have you done?”
“Nothing that will have you scolding me, I promise.” She held her hands up in surrender for good measure. “It’s just that you told me about this dinner date with your two men tomorrow night and how it could be the start of your new business venture with them, but that it could also be the start of something so much more…” She waggled a brow. “And I thought you needed a lucky dress to bring it all together. My lucky dress.”
“Your lucky—”
“Yep! Dress.” Jewel lifted the lid and peeled back the glittery tissue.
Bayli leaned in and gasped. “Oh, you did not!”
“But I did!” Jewel carefully extracted the garment, a stunning, shimmery silver ruched strapless mini. “I wore this when Rogen, Vin, and I signed the papers on the land for the new inn and winery. I’m not saying it’s been nothing but sunshine and roses since that day—there’s a shitload of construction underway with tons of mishaps—but it’s been pretty damn close. Close enough for me, anyway.”
“Aw, Jewel.” Bayli gave her a huge hug. “I am so proud of you for taking on your parents—and Rogen’s—in order to secure that property and do something with it that means so much to you both. And to Vin.”
“To all of us,” Jewel said with a tinge of emotion. “It was the catalyst that brought our families back together. And Bayli,” she said as she pulled slightly away. “I know a pretty dress can’t make you feel any better about your mom, but damn it, she’ll light up all of heaven with her smile when she sees you in it.”
“Jewel.” Tears flooded Bayli’s eyes. She hugged her friend again. “You’re supposed to be talking raunchy about my two men. Not making me cry.”
“A little crying helps sometimes, Bay. Best to let it out rather than keep it bottled up.”
Bayli couldn’t disagree, despite her earlier ruminations that she’d been weepy enough of late. So she shed a few tears for all the tension and hopelessness she’d been feeling that she’d never wanted to burden anyone with. And then wiped her cheeks and lifted her chin.
“Mom would frown over this sort of self-indulgence,” she said.
“Yeah, well, something tells me that Dori Styles—that’s Dori with an i and Styles with a y”—Jewel perfectly imitated Bayli’s feisty mother—“won’t be frowning upon her beautiful daughter landing a TV show and two famous and highly eligible, hot-hot-hot bachelors.”
“Let’s hope she’s not the only one,” Bayli mumbled.
“What are you talking about?”
With a sigh, Bayli said, “Apparently, Rory and I have gone viral, although I have yet to be identified as the woman he laid a huge kiss on at the Seventy-ninth St
reet Greenmarket on Sunday. Soon as that cat’s out of the bag, I’m sure my in-box will be flooded with an endless stream of nastygrams from all of his admirers.”
“Great publicity for the show,” Jewel said. “And one delish tidbit about you and Chef St. James. I’ll have to check it out.”
“Traitor.”
“Hey, no nastygrams coming from me. I just want to see how the guy kisses. Make damn certain he’s worthy of you. Especially in my dress.”
“How’d I know it would all eventually come back to your dress?”
“Because it’s always all about the dress. Just make sure no one comes on it.”
“Jewel!”
“Teasing!” She nudged Bayli with her shoulder. “It was a joke, girlfriend.”
“Why do I suddenly feel queasy?”
“Oh, shut up.” Jewel laughed. “Try this baby on and we’ll decide whether your hair will be up or down. I have shoes and accessories. A wrap. Not that Christian Davila and Rory St. James are going to notice any of that. They might not even feed you before they cart you off to their bed.”
“Jewel!”
“Again with the verbal outburst. Come on, now. Off to the bathroom you go. If I have to call someone in to nip and tuck, be damn sure I will.”
“We’re the same size,” Bayli retorted.
“Yes, and please post that on Facebook, Miss Model. Better yet, send a selfie to Rogen and Vin in the dress so they can see my clothes fit your soon-to-be-famous figure. Wait—” She shook her head. “Scratch that last one. You’re much too gorgeous. Don’t send selfies to my men. Just … don’t.”
Bayli laughed. “I’ll try to control myself. Really, it’ll be difficult, what with wanting to steal them away and all that.” She snickered. Then frowned. “Well, to be honest, if I were still in River Cross and had never met Christian and Rory, I just might want to steal away at least one of them. I mean, seriously, Jewel. To keep such smart and sexy men all to yourself.”
Jewel twirled her around and said, “Go. Now. I know where your interests lie, and it isn’t with Rogen and Vin.”
“Ah, so true.” She headed to the bathroom but stopped just before pushing the door open. She turned back to Jewel. “Thanks for flying all the way across the country to bring me a special dress for a special evening.” Emotion tickled her nose, misted her eyes. But she kept herself in check this time.
Jewel nodded. “Only for the very best of friends.”
* * *
Christian was in the dining room of Davila’s NYC, making the rounds with the customers when she walked in.
As it happened, his Columbia roommate, Gene Eckhart, was in the middle of another dissertation when Christian’s attention was instantly snagged. Gene’s gaze apparently followed Christian’s and he snickered.
“Jesus, Davila,” he said in a friendly, chiding tone. “I think you’re being stalked. And that makes you one lucky son of a bitch.”
“Don’t I know it?” Christian briefly clasped his buddy on the shoulder, then said, “Enjoy the crème brûlée. I have a date.”
Christian started to move away. But stopped in his tracks when Bayli did the same, just beyond the round table in the foyer. Her gaze swept through the bar area and then the dining room. She spotted him. Smiled radiantly.
His insides pulled taut. She easily took his breath away, wearing a tiny silver dress that showed off her glamorous legs and all that golden skin of hers. Her sleek raven hair was pulled back into intricate knots at her nape with a low ponytail on the side that left angled strands at her collarbone. A silver wrap rested in the crooks of her arms and she held a matching clutch in her hand. Her sandals were strappy, delicate-looking things that sparkled almost as vibrantly as the woman herself. Though not quite as much.
He waited for her to make a move. Knew precisely what she was thinking as she dragged her gaze from his and glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Christian’s jaw worked. As much as he wanted Bayli to come straight to him, he also wanted her to smooth the wrinkles with Rory.
She hedged a few moments more, then strolled through the bar to where Pierre was giving instructions to a server. When the manager saw Bayli he grinned and led her to the inner sanctum of the restaurant.
To Rory.
* * *
“Where’s my rack of lamb and my lobster tails?” Rory called out as he reached for a plate of jumbo prawns and whipped mash and another with a rib eye and baked potato. “I need the rest of my order, guys!” he urged as he expedited the food for a VIP table. Hell, this early in the launch of the restaurant the only customers who could get in were VIPs.
“Right here, Chef,” his sous said.
Rory completed his arrangement of the food on a large oval tray, adding the appropriate accompaniments just as the runner returned from serving the last order.
“Table twenty-two,” Rory told the kid. “Make sure you deliver the lobsters to the right place settings. One’s paired with—” A flash of silver caught his eye. Quickly followed by silky legs that he now knew felt like heaven wrapped around him. “Read the ticket,” he said to the runner. Then stepped away.
The kitchen was filled with noise—the clattering of plates, the banter of the chefs as they worked together to get the orders out on time, the occasional outburst when something went awry. Servers came and went; bussers breezed through with trays piled high from tables they’d cleaned. It was hot and chaotic and also smelled like a gourmet grillfest. Rory thrived on the atmosphere, the aroma, the energy bouncing off the walls.
But all of that faded into the background as he turned to fully face Bayli. Standing off to the side, out of the way. Staring at him. Looking so fucking beautiful that his cock instantly throbbed and micromanaging his staff became the absolute last thing on his mind.
When the path cleared, she stepped toward him. Gave him a tentative smile. “I just stopped in to say hi. I won’t take any of your time.”
“Too late,” he ground out, all the blood rushing to his groin. “Let’s go to my office.”
He took her by the hand and led her through the maze of his employees and the various workstations. He and Bayli traveled a short hallway and Rory unlocked the door. Closed it behind them after they passed through.
Bayli surveyed the space and said, “This is really nice.”
“You don’t have to make small talk.” His gaze slid over her from head to toe. “Goddamn…” He let out a harsh breath. “You’re perfect.”
“Nowhere close. But thanks anyway.”
He yanked open the snaps of his jacket at the neck, feeling much too hot under the collar at the sight of her. “Why aren’t you out front with Christian?”
“I haven’t signed the contract,” she said on a rush of air, taking him aback, as she duly noted. She explained, “If this was just about Christian, I would have signed days ago. But it’s not just about Christian.”
His heart constricted. Odd. But he couldn’t fight the sensation. “Still pissed at me, I see.”
“I was never pissed at you,” she said without missing a beat. “Not at all. Not even the tiniest bit.”
“Then, what—”
“I was pissed at me, Rory. For being so … I don’t know. For not being so…” She gave a sharp shake of her head. Draped her wrap over a chair in front of his desk and set her small bag on the seat. She took a few deep breaths, then told him, “I acted like an imbecile, Rory. And I’m very sorry about that.”
“No, Bayli, you didn’t. You have nothing to be sorry for, I swear. Just … don’t apologize, okay?” His gut coiled. The strain on his heart intensified, catching him off-guard, but maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, he’d spent the past couple of days replaying in his mind what had gone wrong from the time she’d fallen into his arms at the library to the time he’d stood on the other side of the elevator doors when they’d closed with her inside.
He’d wondered as he’d stood there trying to figure out what the hell had just happened if he sho
uld go after her. Had wanted to more than he’d wanted just about anything else in life. But something had held him back. A voice in his head that had told him she’d skipped out on him for a reason. And he had to let her process that reason and come around, not hound her in the insistent way that was a natural part of his personality.
Even now, it was pure torture to not push her a little. He needed answers. He needed to know that he hadn’t screwed everything up between them. And he wasn’t just thinking of the show.
Planting his hands at his waist, he said, “Look, honey—”
“Can I just tell you something first?” she asked with imploring eyes. The tawny irises glimmered in the dim lighting of his desk lamp and there was a hint of mist at the corners. Tugging at his heartstrings even more.
“Sure,” he said with a nod. “Whatever you want.”
Unfortunately for him, she stood a bit too far away. Almost across the office. He could still catch the faint hint of her darkly alluring scent, though, and it drove him wild. Made him restless that there were several feet separating them when he wanted her body brushing against his. Wanted his arms around her. Wanted to kiss her until she forgot all about the crap that had unfolded in his apartment after they’d made love.
He groaned inwardly. They hadn’t made love. He’d fucked her.
Right?
Or … not?
Maybe that was what the tightening in his chest was all about. It hadn’t just been a causal lay. It’d been so much more. Christian had felt the same way when he’d been with her. Bayli meant something to them both, far beyond their professional goal. Rory knew it to the depths of his soul.
But Rory couldn’t put any of that into words without freaking the hell out of her again. He was certain of it. So he tried to rein in his emotions and his desires. No easy task.
She folded her arms at her stomach and said, “I’m having this really bizarre dilemma of knowing exactly what I want, but not knowing exactly what to do about it.”