Three Men and a Woman_Indiana

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Three Men and a Woman_Indiana Page 11

by Rachel Billings


  Sigge looked at Tyler like maybe he was thinking about it. “I want children,” he said.

  “Ah, yeah,” Ty said. He had to consider that one. “Think of the babies Indy would give you. Little blue-eyed, blond überchildren.” Now that he thought about it, there was some appeal in it.

  “Hey,” J.J. put in. “You see these pretty eyes?” He pointed, and Ty had to give him that one, too. Women seemed to go for those brown eyes and long lashes, no doubt.

  Suddenly, Ty could imagine himself falling for a little girl with those eyes. “Jesus,” he said. “I can see it.”

  J.J. nodded.

  Sigge looked from one to the other. “You really think? One woman and the three of us?”

  Chapter Seven

  Indy was on round two of her writing on Friday morning when her phone rang. Unlike J.J., Sigge had actually asked for her number, and she’d put his into her phone, so, happily, she knew who was calling when she answered.

  “Hi, Sigge.”

  “Hi, babe. How are you?”

  Did he mean other than the fact that she was a sleaze who had the hots for him and his two best friends? “I’m good. How about you? How’s your knee?”

  “Doing all right,” he answered. “I’m getting around a little better. Less pain. But I’ve got to get a workout in. I was hoping maybe you’d come into town. Work out with me, and then have lunch. How about it?”

  “Ah…”

  “Ty and Jage are spending the day skiing, so I’m all alone here.”

  And that was the question she hadn’t wanted to ask. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll come down.”

  “Great. We’re in the eighth-floor residence,” he told her. “Come on up.”

  “All right. About forty-five minutes or so?”

  “Excellent. And, babe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Bring a swimsuit. We’ll have time for a soak in the hot tub down there.”

  Of course they would. She smiled as she hung up. She’d guess a residence at the Four Seasons would have its own private hot tub. He seemed to be going out of his way to let her know he had more on his mind than a sex romp.

  She dressed in her workout gear and took along a bag with a swimsuit and change of clothes for lunch. A little short of an hour later, she stood outside the residence. She paused for a minute before she knocked, realizing how much she was looking forward to seeing Sig.

  He didn’t disappoint. When he opened the door to her, he was every bit as appealing as she remembered. And as obviously happy to see her as she could possibly wish.

  “Indy,” he said. He pulled her in, his weight on his good foot, crutches just tucked under his armpits, and pushed the door closed at her back. He came up against her. “It’s good to see you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, giving it an awful lot of attention, but it was just that. Just the kiss.

  “I almost forgot how beautiful you are.” He had the fingers of one hand tangled with hers and the others on her cheek. “I missed you yesterday. I wished all day I’d talked you into coming with me.”

  Yeah. Then she’d have been ducking her feelings for Tyler…instead of J.J.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Sig.” And, God help her, it was.

  He smiled and stood looking at her for a long moment. “We’re going to work out, right?” he finally asked, like a better idea might have occurred to him.

  “Right,” she said, before that better idea had a chance to take root. No doubt, she could be turned.

  He nodded with obvious regret and stepped back. “I’ll just get my swimsuit.”

  Indy watched him walk away, moving efficiently and quite gracefully on the crutches, and stifled her sigh. He shouldn’t look so hot. He wore a sleeveless, faded team shirt and loose athletic shorts. Nothing that showed off his chest, clung to his butt, or outlined his package. Still…he was a sight. She tried to distract herself, taking in the swank suite that probably had more square footage than the average suburban home. The big, modern living room had a wall of windows with a great mountain view and a roomy balcony that was, at the moment, snow covered.

  Sig came back with his swimsuit slung over his shoulder. He stopped in front of her and handed her his crutches while his hands got busy putting his braids up into a kind of ponytail. She considered it just possible that he wasn’t deliberately showing off his muscled arms for her as he finished the job. Acting all innocent, he took back his crutches and her bag from her fingers. “Take this along,” he asked, “or grab your suit and leave the bag?”

  He waited indulgently through the few seconds she needed to re-focus and give him an answer. “Ah, bring it, please. I’ll need to shower and dress for lunch.”

  He gave her a nod of acceptance without pointing out that she could do that in the suite. She knew she could count on it being a late lunch if she chose that option. She also was sure he wasn’t as complaisant about it as he pretended to be—the man was a lion, not a pussycat—but she was grateful for it anyway. He opened the door and gestured her out with a hand at the small of her back. Like the he-man he was, he managed both her bag and his crutches without a bit of struggle.

  She asked about his events the day before as he took her down in a private elevator. Walking to the fitness center, they talked about that aspect of the job—the public relations, which were much more significant at his level of athletic success than had ever been the case for her. He claimed he didn’t begrudge it.

  He gestured around the lobby. “I make a great living doing something I love. Something I’d do for fun and for free, if I had to. A lot of guys would kill for the privilege.” He looked over at her. “I’d be an asshole to complain about it.”

  She smiled. “A lot of guys do.”

  He nodded. “Ergo…”

  She laughed, and he grinned as he swiped them into the fitness center. “I try not to be an asshole.”

  “You seem to succeed pretty well.”

  “Thanks,” he said, following her through the door. “Pretty good at not being an asshole. High praise.”

  She stopped to look up at him, aware that a lot of interested eyes had turned in their direction. “I’m sure you get plenty of admiration.”

  His gaze was all on her, not the least wandering around the space, not checking out who was there showing an interest. “I suppose. But it only counts sometimes.”

  Like from her, he meant. She very much liked how present he was for her. Then he out-and-out surprised her, putting a hand at her neck.

  “If you don’t mind,” he told her. “I’d like to do this. It’ll save me some hassle.”

  He leaned in and kissed her—extremely thoroughly. Enough so as to dash the hopes any of the high-end women—or, perhaps, men—who watched might be nursing.

  “Mm,” he said as he lifted up. “A lot of side benefit to that, too.”

  He patted her ass then, and they both smiled as they got to work.

  * * * *

  “Hey, guys.”

  Sigge spent a couple more seconds enjoying the woman across the table from him before he turned his head to answer Tyler’s greeting. He needn’t have bothered though, because Tyler’s attention had honed right in on Indy, too.

  “Hi, Indy,” he said, and then he leaned in to kiss her. He might not have exchanged any spit with her, but it wasn’t a little peck either.

  Startled, Indy leaned away from it, her cheeks flushed a little as she looked across at Sig.

  The guys had planned this, and for some damn reason, last night it had seemed like an okay idea. Just start to plant the seed, they’d decided, and see where it got them.

  Right now, he couldn’t figure out what the hell he’d been thinking, agreeing to it.

  But Ty was playing his part with an explanation that his own knee was feeling a little dodgy up on the slopes, so he’d made a short day of it. Now he asked if they minded if he joined them—not a serious question, since he pulled out one of the extra chairs at the table for four and sat with
out waiting for an answer.

  It wasn’t in the script, but Sig reached across the table and took Indy’s hand in his. He held on and didn’t think he was going to let go. He didn’t have any trouble ignoring the look Ty shot him.

  Ty got the attention of their waiter and soon had his own lunch in front of him. After a bit, they had a relatively normal conversation over their meal, Ty entertaining Indy a lot better than Sig had done with stories about the gala.

  He even told a couple touching, insightful stories about some of the kids they’d met in the hospital, and Sig was reminded that his buddy Ty wasn’t an asshole either. The reminder helped, since he was considering sharing his woman with the guy.

  If his woman was insane enough to consider their crazy scheme.

  Sig caught the moment when Ty’s hand wandered under the table. Indy startled, and Sig put his fork down and reached his hand across the table again, letting Indy’s come to his. Which it did, God bless. And she did something businesslike under the table with her other one, because Ty soon had both hands visible, working on his meal.

  Ty stuck to the script, which Sig had to acknowledge wasn’t a given, and excused himself while they lingered over coffee. He was going to hit the hot tub, he told them, and then do some stretches and a gentle workout. When they were alone, Sig had Indy’s hand back in his once more.

  “Will you come back upstairs with me?” he asked.

  She’d been breathing a little fast a couple times during the meal—after Ty had kissed her, and then when he’d done whatever it was under the table. Finding the bare skin of her calf up the slit of her long, slim skirt would be Sig’s guess. It was what he’d have done. She did it again now, that light, quick breathing that seemed to signal a case of nerves.

  “To be all the way honest,” he said, “I’m asking you to come to my bed. Will you do that, Indiana?”

  Her pretty eyes searched his, and he tried to be as open to her as he could. He tried to let her see what he felt.

  Maybe it soothed her, reassured her. Either way, she nodded.

  * * * *

  As Sig stood and ushered her from the restaurant, Indy tried to put from her mind the confusion she’d felt when he’d watched Ty kiss her. He’d seemed to calmly accept it. And then later to offer her safe harbor, even, when Ty had run his fingers along her bare calf above her ankle boot. She’d reacted with shocked surprise, and Sig had put his hand out for hers as though he’d been aware of Tyler’s moves—accepting again, and reassuring.

  So, so much, it didn’t seem like the kind of man Sig was.

  She believed he was a gentleman, a gentle man. He was caring and kind and honest, qualities that fit easily with the man she knew he was. Still, she would never have expected that he’d sit passively while another man kissed her—not just a little buss, but a long, intimate kiss. Even if the other man was his best friend.

  That didn’t fit.

  She considered, as he took her to his suite, that his behavior made sense only if his feelings toward her were ultimately superficial. And that didn’t seem right either. Not with the way he touched her, with the way his eyes seemed to express nothing but honest caring, with his intent concern for her.

  She wondered if she should have told him no and taken herself on home to her cabin. But she’d spent two years isolated there, four years essentially alone, and these three attractive, extremely masculine guys had reminded her what it was to feel lonely.

  She found she didn’t have it in her to turn down what Sig offered. Even if it was no more a promise than a rousing good time in bed for the few more days he would be in Vail.

  Whatever his intentions were, the man had superpowers when it came to seduction—not just of her body, but of her heart. He took her right to his room—another large space with opaque shades over a long stretch of windows and a bed that was a suitable match for his height and breadth. He took her around the bed into the soft light from the windows and, dropping his crutches, undressed her. He was gentle, taking his time, unwrapping her like she was a precious package, kissing and tasting her as he went. Using words as well, he enchanted her.

  “I’m falling for you, Indiana,” he said as he lifted her sweater over her head and brought his lips to her neck while her arms were still captured. He took the sweater away and ran his big, warm hands along her skin—at her sides, along her ribs, over her back. “This means something to me.” He spoke those words as he nestled between her breasts, breathing in her scent, before he lifted to watch as he unfastened her bra and took that away, too. He looked at what he’d revealed, then brought his gaze back up to hers. “You mean something to me.”

  “Sigge,” she murmured, lost to his power.

  He kissed her breasts and then, lame knee or no, swept her up in his arms and settled with her onto the bed. He kissed her mouth lingeringly before moving to her breasts again, running his tongue over her hard nipples and then pulling strongly on them. She whimpered, already needy, and he looked up at her in satisfaction.

  “You did all the work last time,” he said. “Now it’s my turn.”

  He applied himself to the job studiously. After more hot, inflaming touches and kisses, he went back to his feet at the side of the bed. He unlaced her boots and took them off. When he was done with that, he slid out of the sport coat and dress shirt he’d changed into when they’d finished their workouts and separated to shower and dress for lunch. Bare from the waist up now, he lifted her feet and placed them flat against the hot skin and muscle of his chest. Watching her, he massaged her feet and then slid his hands along her legs, taking the wool fabric of her skirt with him, finding his way substantially farther than Ty had managed before she’d slapped his hand away.

  “I like this, Indy,” he said. “I love it. Your skin is like honey.” He had her knees bare now, and open. She could see over the edge of her skirt the way his dress slacks tented out.

  “You feel good, too, Sig,” she told him, and that was the least of it. He looked spectacular, that muscled, smooth torso, his very virile attention all on her.

  He pushed in, bending her knees farther, but she was bound by the narrow cut of her skirt. “How do I get you out of this thing? I’ve been searching for the secret since I first saw you in it.”

  She smiled—she’d seen him looking. “It’s a hidden zipper in back.”

  His eyes lit. “I can work with that.” He grasped her hips and rolled her over. Then he tugged her down so she was hanging over the edge of the high bed.

  “Nice,” he said. He pressed up against her, for the first time letting her feel how hard he was. He leaned over, sliding her hair to the side so he could run his lips along her spine from her neck to her waist. He took her hands and stretched her arms up over her head, leaning his cock heavily into her ass. With a little pressure at her arms, letting her know she was to keep them there, he lifted back. He ran his hands along her sides, pressing under to give both nipples a squeeze along the way.

  He stroked lower, kneading into the muscles of her back until he came to her zipper. Slowly, he lowered it. When it was all the way open, he nudged her. “Lift your hips a little.”

  Her toes just reaching the floor, his legs pressing along either side of hers, she lifted up.

  He took his time, slowly edging the skirt down, leading with the open zipper for the view he obviously liked best. “This is like the hottest Christmas present ever,” he said, a single second before he bent and put his tongue at the back of her thong. He followed the thin band of silk down the crack of her ass.

  “Sigge,” she said again, suppressing a shudder. Or maybe not, exactly.

  He didn’t seem to care where his tongue went, seeking out every inch of her, pressing in when he could. With a feral groan, he lifted up. Brusquely, all business now, he stripped her skirt and thong away.

  For the next moments, he stopped touching her, just letting her wait for it, listening, as he opened his fly and then a condom packet. “You look so good, Indy,” he mur
mured. “This isn’t what I meant. I meant…But I have to…”

  He never finished the thought, either what he meant or what he had to do. He just did it. With no more words, no more touch than the press of his cock at her pussy, he shoved in and fucked her. “Oh, God,” he said. “Oh, God, babe.”

  Indy could feel the tension in his body, could hear in his breathing the rampant need. He gripped her hips, lifting her, securing her for his fucks and then, even more. He used his strength to rock her back, to bring her down on him even farther with every thrust he made into her. He bent over her, enough that she could feel his hot breath on her back, coming down on her finally in a frenzy, his hips pistoning against her ass.

  In guttural words, mixed English and Swedish, curses and praise, he growled out his pleasure. His excitement drove Indy’s, and she moaned in needy, carnal bliss. That seemed to draw his attention, and, moments before it would be too late, he reached his fingers around to her clit. Rubbing her, quick and hard just like he was fucking her, he got her off just as his own orgasm barreled down on him.

  It was a wild ride. She was at the mercy of his big, muscular body. He clenched around her, hard spasms wracking him, his hand at her hip gripping hard enough that she knew there’d be bruises. But she wallowed in it, entirely enthralled, wholly consumed by the conflagration of his pleasure and hers.

  He was still growling as it passed, his breath hot and heaving at her ear, and she realized he’d had his teeth there, securing her at her shoulder. The full weight of his upper body had fallen onto her, making her fight for each desperate breath.

 

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