The Satin Sash

  “It’s been a while,” Heath mused.

  “Sixteen years.”

  “That long?” Heath whistled, scraping his hand along his shadowed jaw as he tracked Grey pacing across the room. “I must be getting old.”

  Toni quivered every time Grey had mentioned the threesome. Her body flushed and she got all loving on him. She rode him, licked him, kissed him, came all over him. God.

  His cock was a perennial pain inside his trousers. He couldn’t blank out the images that tumbled through his brain. Images that made his chest constrict, his stomach twist, his heart ache.

  Toni undulating . . . giving out those little purrs of hers, Heath feeding her cock, Grey rocking in her tight, syrupy pussy . . .

  It would kill him. It would drive him out of his ever- loving mind.

  Grey returned behind his desk and added, “We’ll have dinner. I’ll confirm for myself if she wants you.Then we’ll see.”

  “She wants me. That woman of yours is made for passion.You deny her, and she’ll be looking somewhere else.”

  “Where did you read that, Glamour?”

  Heath linked his hands behind his head and shot him a look full of impatience. “I don’t read that shit.”

  “Then where does this brilliant advice come from? You haven’t been in a relationship your entire life.”

  “Neither had you before Toni. And I once fucked your driver and he was in a relationship. He gossiped like a girl. Shit, he whimpered like a girl.”

  “And you like that?”

  Heath considered, the verdict coming out a bored, “Whatever.”

  “If we decide to do something about it, we’re not doing it here. We’ll do it in Cabo, give her a weekend where there are no prying eyes and she can let go.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  Grey shook his head. “It’s a maybe.”

  “I want the sash.”

  “The sash is mine until I know for sure.” Tipping his glass to drain the last of his brandy, he assessed his friend as the liquid burned a path down his throat. “How do you feel about kissing?”

  Heath shrugged, and Grey set the glass back down with a thump. “Good. So you wouldn’t mind not kissing her. On the lips.”

  Heath cranked his head to Grey’s and both his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was the only human being Grey knew who could laugh in silence. It had never bothered Grey before, but now he evaluated Heath with new eyes.

  New, wary eyes.

  He was as big as Grey, less controlled perhaps. Everything about Heath was black: his hair, his clothes, his eyes, most of all his humor. At work he was tireless, dedicated, steady as a bull, but Grey wasn’t certain how far he could be pushed on a more personal level. He respected Heath; he’d never even tried to bend him to his will before. There wasn’t a doubt that now he had to.

  “Toni . . .” he explained. “She likes to kiss for hours. When she wants to kiss, she goes on forever. . . .”

  And she poured her heart into those kisses.All of her soul.Those kisses were Grey’s.

  Heath raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Agreed. No tongue tangles.”

  “And her derriere,” he added, setting a few pens back into the leather cylinder beside his computer.“That would be off-limits too.” Rather than take his chair, he braced his hands on the edge of his desk and leaned forward.“I don’t want us to hurt her, you understand.”

  Heath’s eyes glimmered with interest as he rose to his feet, rammed his hands into his jean pockets.“How would we do this, then?”

  “Other than that, what the lady wants.”

  “Would I get to fuck her by myself?”

  “No,” Grey growled, “you would not.”

  “I’m supposed to say no if she asks?”

  “She won’t.”

  “Won’t what?”

  “Won’t ask, Heath.” If she did, if she so much as tumbled around with Heath without Grey . . .

  “But if she does?”

  No. She would not. Having a threesome was one thing. Toni and Heath alone together was something else entirely.

  “If she asks,” Grey stressed. “Which she won’t.”

  Heath accepted with a nod, and Grey rubbed the tension from the back of his neck. His thoughts were in a tangle, and the feeling had him on edge. He was burning for her. He’d been aroused all day, in the car, the shower, the office. He was still in pain.

  Heath halted midstep. “If it’s eating at you, why are you doing this?”

  Grey met his gaze head on. “Let’s just say I’m humoring her.” He narrowed his eyes. “Have you been tested recently?”

  “Of course.”

  A slimy, icky dread slithered through his blood at the thought of anything going wrong. Out of control. Out of his hands. “This is a woman I’d die for. Do you understand me?”

  Heath’s lips curled. “You do love her.”

  “You hurt her, and I’ll crush you, Heathcliff. I don’t care what we’ve been through.”

  His partner seemed thoroughly amused as he hauled the chair back with his ankle and sank down.“And you’ve told her how you feel, Romeo?”

  Grey considered not responding to his jibe, then admitted,“She knows how I feel.”

  “But you’ve never told her.”

  “I don’t have to.”

  “Women like to hear it.”

  “Heath, your advice is starting to irritate me.”

  Heath stacked his hands behind his head, his brows drawn up. “Women like those words. Even I know that.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” When Toni said the words to him, it didn’t feel all that amazing. He felt powerless. And she said them all the time, so easily, so unselfishly. It killed him not to say them back.

  Shaking his head, he strolled to the window that made up the entire west wall of the office. “She wouldn’t be with me if she thought I didn’t love her.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s proud.”

  “No more than you are.”

  Grey gazed blindly out at the city, seeing Toni in his mind.

  “Her coffee’s practically water.” He didn’t know why that came out of his mouth. Apparently Heath didn’t, either, because he just sat there staring at him.

  “She’s a reckless driver,” he continued restlessly.“This is the second time this month she’s gotten a low tire. She rubs them against the sidewalk all the time.”

  “Parking tickets?”

  “I can name at least five officers she knows by name.” Grey would have smiled ruefully if he weren’t still fighting the urge to tear Heath’s head off.“She rumples my hair before I leave for work. She draws her name on my files. She messes with my clothes.”

  Damn. She was adorable. An adorable, mischievous, sweet little mess. When Heath remained silent, Grey turned and pinned him with a look. “I want to drown her in pleasure until she can’t remember her name, and I want us to go on for hours. Hours. I don’t want her to breathe or think or do anything but feel what we’re doing to her. All day, all night. Can you do that, Heathcliff—think of someone else’s pleasure other than your own?”

  “I’ll have her writhing.”

  “What I want to hear is that you’ll be careful.Thoughtful. She’s not like you and me.”

  He smiled lazily. “It’s obvious she’s a woman, Grey.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.” Grey thought of that lively imp he knew, of how he liked to take care of her, to take from her in bed and then coo and coddle and spoil her. “She’s never done anything like this,” he said.

  Toni wasn’t cold or jaded, but lively and warm and excitable. Grey would never forgive himself if that was taken from her.

  Heath’s smile faded, his jaw bunched with tension.“If you need the words, I’ll say them. I’d cut off my arm before I hurt a hair on her head.”

  Deep down where it most counted, Grey knew this. He knew it with every cell of his being; Heath woul
d give her all the pleasure she could handle, but no more. And he wouldn’t stick around after sex. He’d be gone before anyone knew what happened, his current obsession forgotten, and never, ever, come back for more.

  “I’m in control,” Grey said with steely finality.

  “I’m not complaining.”

  “Good.We’re clear, then.” Relaxing at last, he sank into his chair and flicked open the button of his jacket as he leaned forward, all business. “About dinner . . .”

  Chapter Four

  It gave her a heady feeling, driving Grey’s manly, rumbling car. An unnerving one, too, because she feared she’d scratch it or flat-out smash it up like she’d done her old Ford.

  Drivers glanced at her as they sped past her, probably thinking, Why is this person in such a sporty car driving at forty miles an hour?

  Pointedly ignoring them, Toni kept her eyes on her own lane, trying not to consider the fact that she might be needing glasses to drive. All that time over her papers, the computer . . . not good for her eyes.

  She absorbed the fancy car interior—shiny chrome, glossy wood, yummy- scented black leather. Turning on the radio, she scanned the stations until she found a favorite Madonna song playing, then cranked it to a loud blast and guided the sleek black car to her parents’ small home at Old Town. Every time she turned, the wheel slid inside her fingers like butter. She loved this little car.

  Old Town was a curious neighborhood, its architecture ranging from cozy cottages to modern high- rise buildings. Her parents’ home was among the smaller ones, but with its green lawn and baskets of flowers flanking the front door,Toni thought it was the most inviting. Or maybe it was just her childhood memories that made it seem so inviting.The corner stand where she and Janice, aka Pippi Longstocking, had sold lemonade to their neighbors. Planting her very first tree, the top of which she could no longer see, it had overgrown the house so fast.

  Finding a spot for the Porsche under that tree, she parked and strolled into the two-story brick home.The scent of baking cookies expanded her lungs. Mouth watering, she followed the familiar sound of her mother’s humming down a narrow, shadowed hall and into the brightly lit kitchen.

  “What’s for dinner?”

  The slim, silvering woman by the oven jumped in fright. “Antonia, you scared me to death!”

  Laughing because her mother never called her Antonia unless she was serious,Toni snatched up a thick glove and helped her pull out the cookie sheet, setting it atop the stove. She tried plucking one up, but her mom slapped her hand. “Hot! And wait until after dinner.”

  Toni groaned and moved over to her customary position at the kitchen island to help chop the vegetables.

  She hadn’t yet positioned the tomato, and Mom was already telling her all about her friends’ daughters who were getting married, had gotten married, or were happily expecting, and Toni frowned down at the cutting board, knowing what was to come.

  “So how are you and Grey?”

  Yes. There it was. She stifled a moan and sliced. “Fine, Mom. How are you and Dad?”

  “Well, you know your father. Got that crazy hunting thing in his head. I swear if I’d known he was going to start killing all these animals, I’d never have married him.”

  Keeping her hands busy, her mom moved around the kitchen island.The place was bright and cluttered, with colored pots hanging from the ceiling. Mom’s knitting sat in a nearby basket, her gossip magazines tucked into a corner.

  “So when are you and Grey going to tie the knot?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

  Toni sighed drearily, her temples beginning to throb. She had to set the knife down and rub. “We’ve talked about this, Mom.”

  “And I’m sure any day now you’ll both change your minds.”

  “If two people love each other, they don’t need papers to stay together,” she mumbled.

  “Hell, yes, you do.” Appearing through the door, her father smacked her cheek with a sloppy kiss; then the large, rowdy man proceeded to investigate the food they were preparing.“I love your mother, but she can drive a man so crazy, I’d be long gone if divorce weren’t such trouble.”

  “See.” Her mother beamed, oblivious to having been just insulted.

  Toni should have stayed home and tried to tackle the Viscevis logo.

  And her mother went on, because, really, there was no stopping that woman once she was on a roll.

  And Dad was on her side now.

  “Sweetheart, when you find The One, the most natural thing to a woman is to want to secure him. Especially a man like yours. Daddy and I love Grey, darling, but those men just aren’t long- term. They’re too exposed to temptation.All that money and the women and the power. First wrong step you make, sweetie, and that man is out the door. After all, what’s holding him back?”

  “There’s me,” she said in an unsteady mumble. Did he care for her enough? Would he stop caring one day? Maybe he just thought he felt something but wasn’t certain enough to tell her.Why didn’t he ever say it?

  And Mom worried that Grey was too much for Toni. Grey knew people her parents could only read about in magazines. His name was among the most influential in the city, while the Kearnys were simple people.

  Her father had been manager of a small air- conditioning business for fifteen years; her mother a caring, loveable woman dedicated to her home.They did not have servants or jets or houses in Marrakech and Mexico. And their daughter was no Miss Universe either. Though why they thought Grey wanted one, Toni had no clue. Stereotypes, maybe.

  “If Grey walks out on our Toni, he’s a fool. I still wish you’d ever looked at me with those moon eyes she gives that man.”

  Her mother’s scowl was murderous as she swiveled round. “Just maybe, Homer, you should think of what to do to deserve those moon eyes. I see no fancy sports car in our garage,” she argued. “Plus, Grey can never keep his hands off her, and I haven’t gotten even a morning kiss lately.”

  Eyes twinkling, he squeezed her mother’s rump, and his hand got a slap for its daring.

  “As I was saying,Toni,” her mother continued, a blush tinting in her cheeks, “if you want to keep him—”

  Toni buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Can we please veer off the topic of marriage? Ask me something else. Anything else.”

  “Grandchildren.There’s a topic for you.Your daddy and I want some.”

  Anything except that.

  “Mom, my career is just picking up. I can’t think of having a kid now. I wasn’t even able to take care of Daffy.” She pointed to the surly old furball eyeing her from his permanent place on the living room couch.

  “But you and Grey talk about it?”

  She snatched a glass from inside a cabinet and poured herself some water. “No.We do not, because neither of us wants one right now.” And because nobody could truly understand how difficult it was to talk to Grey. He listened, he wasn’t judgmental, but he was just so . . . so . . . logical.

  It was practically impossible to get him to talk from the heart.

  “Let’s talk about something else and stop torturing me. Dad, that deer over the fireplace looks miserable.Tell me about him.”

  Her father’s chest expanded an inch or two. “Ahh, that’s a ten-point piebald whitetail deer. A really big buck, by anyone’s standards. Now I’m planning to go bear hunting to Alaska. I’m growing a beard and . . . well, speak of the devil and he appears! Good evening, Grey. How are you?”

  What Toni felt hearing Grey’s distinct, low-pitched voice was indescribable. Like being swamped with whipped cream, covered in melted chocolate fudge.

  “Homer.”

  Even at this hour, his suit, the Hermès tie, everything about him was perfect. A smile curved her lips as she watched him pat her father’s back and move to her eagerly awaiting mother.

  “I hope you don’t mind I let myself in, Beth, I stood out there for quite a while.”

  “Grey, darling, that’s one crazy chime out there an
d half the time it doesn’t work. You’re always most welcome here.” Mom pulled him down to kiss his forehead, and Toni noted he no longer stiffened when she did.

  When Grey popped a chocolate-chip cookie into his mouth, he didn’t get a slap. Her mother’s grin covered her entire face. “Take more, Grey—take all you want! I made those just for you.”

  And then he was coming over to Toni, and her legs went rubbery. In his eyes she saw that glimmer he had for her, a mirror to the delicious emotion she felt every time she saw him.

  “Aren’t you going to say hello to me?” he huskily murmured. The next second she was wrapped in all steel, all heat, all him. He brushed his lips across hers, their breaths mingling.

  When he pulled away, he riveted her with eyes that smoldered with emotional intimacy.

  Tilting her head farther back, she raised her hand to undo his tie like she always did. She draped it across the back of the couch, undid his two top buttons, Grey docilely letting her, and then she plunged her hands into his hair, playfully fussing it.“Wrapped up early?”

  He gazed at her lips with a distinctly famished expression. “Seems like.”

  “A good thing, too,” Mom chimed in.“I’m just about to serve.”

  The next minute, they were sitting at the round oak table by the window. Once dinner was under way, their first bites were taken in companionable silence. Toni had always suspected that Grey secretly loved spending time with her parents. They said anything that came to their minds, but for the most part, it seemed to amuse him. No one ever listened with such quiet attention to her mom’s boring anecdotes of Toni’s childhood.

  Toni could not stop eyeing her lover. The effortless way his hands moved. His lips. He was an Adonis, and he was hers. It was an intoxicating thought.

  As he listened to her father’s hunting stories, she noticed how Grey, with his youth and sophistication, was so opposite of her dad. Her father was open and talkative, while Grey was reserved and contained. There was just something innately controlled and interesting about Grey she’d never seen in another man. With the possible exception of his father.