“Yeah.”
“Double beds?”
She met his eyes. “No. Just one.”
They were alone in the office, the manager doing a final check of the job site before closing down for the evening. Thomas crooked a finger at her and she went to him, wishing she didn’t feel guilty over leaving Tyler alone for the night.
Wishing she didn’t feel an aching need for Thomas.
He hugged her. “Let’s go get a room and we’ll stop somewhere, get what we need, grab some dinner. Tyler will be okay without us tonight.”
“How’d you do that?”
“I’m not a totally stupid guy. Some of Tyler’s rubbed off on me over the years.” He patted her back. “Come on, I know a place.”
They climbed on the bike. Twenty minutes later, he turned at a resort complex on the Intracoastal Waterway, complete with hotel, marina, shops, and restaurant.
“You know, Tommy, I’d be happy with a Motel 8.”
“I didn’t build a Motel 8.”
She took another look around. “You built this?”
“Guilty. But if it ever falls down, it was built by a guy named Goober.”
She followed him to the reservation desk. They checked in and walked to the shops, purchased a few essentials. As they passed a gift shop he stopped and took a couple of steps back. “Whoa.”
“What?”
He motioned to her and pointed at the sundress on display. “You, in that, for dinner.”
She started to protest and he grinned, taking her hand and pulling her into the store.
“No, baby girl, I get the final say.” Not only did he buy the dress, but a matching pair of sandals and an oversized T-shirt for her to sleep in. They retreated to their room, and he let her get ready first.
Nevvie wasn’t sure about the sundress, but if it made him happy, she’d wear it. Light teal and a gauzy crepe material, the loose skirt flowed mid-calf. He stood when she emerged from the bathroom, and she didn’t know how to interpret his look.
“Well?”
He held out his arms and she went to him, relaxing as he hugged her. “You look great, sugar. Beautiful. I’m a lucky guy. Give me a few minutes to get ready.”
He took her hand and led her to the waterside restaurant. With a beautiful Gulf sunset as their backdrop, they ate on the covered patio and enjoyed the balmy sea breeze. They talked for an hour while the restaurant emptied and the tiki bar filled. She enjoyed being able to relax with him like this, not have to rush back to work—or home.
Thomas made her laugh. Not that Tyler didn’t, but Tom’s playful, bawdy sense of humor fit well with her personality. She loved engaging in verbal battles of dirty puns with him. Where Tyler was serious, Thomas was silly. Truly the brain and the biker.
He paid their bill and led her to the tiki bar, leaving her at the only open barstool. “I’m going to run to the little boy’s room,” he said. “Order me a bottle of beer please, and then we’ll go back to the room.”
Nevvie nodded and finally caught the bartender’s attention, ordering Thomas’ favorite bottled brand. She smiled when she felt a hand on her shoulder a brief moment later. “That was quick. What, your lizard didn’t need draining after all?” She turned.
Her eyes widened. The hand on her shoulder didn’t belong to Thomas. She pulled free. “Uh, excuse me!”
“Hey, baby, why don’t you sit at our table?” The guy smelled like he would blow twice the legal limit.
She was trapped against the bar, the stools on either side of her occupied and the drunk blocking her escape route. He reached for her again, and she slapped his hand away, pushing him back a step.
“Don’t touch me!” she yelled, fighting her panic. He was taller than her by a good six inches, with a beer belly. “Leave me alone!”
“What, I’m not good enough for you? Come on, baby—”
“She said leave her alone.”
Nevvie didn’t recognize Thomas’ voice at first. The hard, steely edge and dangerous tone startled her. Was this her gentle, playful Thomas?
The drunk tried to focus on Thomas. “Who the fuck are you?”
Thomas stepped between Nevvie and the man, and now people watched. Thomas stood an inch or two taller than the guy, but the drunk outweighed him.
The man was forced to step back. Thomas held up his left hand, pointing at his wedding band. “She’s my wife, asshole. Back. The fuck. Off.”
The drunk took another unsteady step back. She watched as Tom clenched his fists, the war for control raging inside him.
And inside her. Something about the set of Tom’s body, his voice, started her lower belly throbbing and aching. He would fight for her.
His wife.
Jesus! She knew it was an excuse to try to diffuse the situation, but still…
She could almost see wheels turning inside the drunk’s head. He wasn’t anticipating this. Fight to save face, or admit he was a jerk for hitting on another guy’s wife?
Unfortunately one of the guy’s equally drunk buddies thought he was helping when he staggered over and tried to pull his friend away. “C’mon, Jack, let’s go.”
The drunk opted for ego and yanked free, then took a swing at Thomas.
Thomas caught the guy’s fist and followed with a well-placed undercut to the man’s breadbasket, knocking the wind out of him. Jack folded like a trailer in a hurricane and hit the wooden deck, on his knees and gasping for air. Thomas stepped back, feeling for Nevvie behind him without taking his eyes off the drunk or his friend.
Nevvie grabbed Thomas’ arm and he backed against her, blocking her in with his body. She suspected they’d have to kill him to get to her. She instinctively put her arms around his waist.
Thomas’ low, possessive growl made her ache with need. “I suggest you get your friend the hell out of here before he gets the crap beat outta him.”
Another not-quite-so-drunk friend helped the drunk friend get Jack to his feet and manhandled him out of the bar. The show over, the other patrons returned to their conversations.
Nevvie clung to Thomas, breathing heavy and realizing she ached to feel his arms around her—and his dick in her. He turned and threw a couple of bills on the bar to pay for the beer and grabbed the bottle. “Come on, sugar. Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him, forcing her to practically jog to keep up with his long strides. She followed him, still mentally reeling.
Inside their room with the door securely locked behind them, Thomas set the beer on the dresser and started emptying his pockets. She hadn’t moved from beside the door.
He looked at her. “What?”
Nevvie launched herself at him. She threw her arms and legs around him, and he caught her, returning her kiss with urgency, moaning as he cupped her ass and held her to him, grinding his hips against her.
She wanted him to fuck her. Right then. Raw, hot, bed-bouncing, lusty, screaming at the top of her lungs sex. From the feel of him between her legs, so did he.
“Goddammit, Tommy, that was—” She couldn’t finish, because his tongue was down her throat.
He greedily devoured her, falling with her to the bed, running his hands down her body and under her dress.
Hell yes, she was getting laid!
Thomas’ fingers skimmed up her bare thighs and found her panties. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he started working them down her hips. He moaned, running his lips from her shoulder to her ear, blistering hot against her skin. “Jesus, baby, I want to—”
His cell phone rang, Tyler’s custom tone, like a splash of ice water on them.
His eyes met hers for a split-second before he rolled off, she rolled the other way, and he answered. She sat on the edge of the bed, panting, her eyes closed.
What the fuck am I doing?
Thomas took the phone into the bathroom and closed the door while she sat there trembling, still tasting Thomas on her lips, his scent on her skin like a dream.
So close. So. Fucking. Close.
She gro
aned, falling back on the bed. What the hell was wrong with her?
The bathroom door opened and she caught part of Thomas’ conversation, felt the bed give under his weight as he sat across from her. “She’s okay, Ty. It was a stupid drunk… Everyone’s fine, we’re back in the room. Sugar, don’t worry about it. We’re fine… All right, here she is.”
He gently nudged her hand with the phone. Without opening her eyes, she took it. “Hi, Tyler.”
“Sweetheart, are you all right?”
His nearly frantic tone made her feel even more guilty. Fuck. She nearly jumped him a few days ago, and now Thomas. “I’m fine. We’re okay.”
“Oh, thank goodness you weren’t hurt.” She spent several long, agonizing minutes assuaging Tyler’s rattled nerves before saying good night and returning the phone to Thomas.
“We’re fine. We’ll start back in the morning after breakfast… Yes, we’ll be careful. Are you okay?… All right. Make sure you lock the doors before you go to bed. I love you, Ty…You too. Good night.”
Thomas dropped the phone to the bed. She felt him fall back, his head near hers. He broke the silence after many long minutes. “You okay, Nev?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“What the hell are you sorry for?”
“For jumping you.”
“I’m not sorry. Why should you be?”
Nevvie didn’t know how to take his comment and finally rolled over to look at him. “Dammit, I nearly raped you, Thomas.”
“Sweetie, were you and I involved in the same encounter a few hot minutes ago? Because I sure felt like I was in complete control of what I was doing.”
His brown eyes held her. She felt as attracted to him as she did Tyler, but in a different way.
A dangerous way.
Anger flashed through her. What the fuck were two monogamous and happily committed gay guys doing kissing her anyway? She couldn’t come between them like this!
“Is this some sort of game to you two?”
He rolled over to look at her right side up and dropped his voice. “Did it feel like I was playing a game, sugar?” he growled.
She gulped and shook her head.
“Okay then.” He sighed. “Thank God he called when he did. I know he said he’d share me with you, but tonight isn’t the time or place. Go get ready for bed, and I’ll give you a back rub to put you to sleep.”
She nodded, not pressing him for further explanation. What did he mean it wasn’t the time or place?
Dare she hope that meant one day there would be? Somehow, she needed to find the strength to confront them, get answers.
But not tonight. While she wanted answers, it would kill her to hear confirmation that they weren’t serious. At least this way her fantasies remained intact.
She changed clothes and settled in bed.
“Roll over, hon. Time to send you to dream land.”
Nevvie did, moaning in a different way at the feel of his hands on her. Damn, he was good. He’d learned to melt her the same way he did Tyler, and on more than one occasion had put her to sleep in this fashion.
He shifted position, straddling her. She closed her eyes and fantasized about what might have happened if Tyler hadn’t called.
When she opened her eyes the bedside clock read two-seventeen, and Thomas had a protective arm curled around her, his breath even and steady in sleep.
Closing her eyes she tried not to think about how safe it felt being nestled in his arms.
About how it might feel sleeping cradled between her sweet love gods.
* * * *
She awoke first the next morning, a little after six, and took a shower and dressed. When she emerged Thomas still lay in bed, watching her dry her hair at the sink.
He met her eyes in the mirror and crooked his finger.
As helpless as she was with Tyler, she went to him, sitting on the bed.
“You okay, sugar?”
She nodded. In the light of day it felt worse. Not only the fact that she was apparently doing her damnedest to get the two men she loved to cheat on each other with her, but what a freaking way to repay their kindness and generosity.
“Then why do you look like hell?”
Nevvie closed her eyes, afraid to meet his sweet brown gaze. “Because I don’t like myself this morning. I don’t like what I’m becoming.”
“What’s that?”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters to me.”
“You two have been wonderful to me, and now I’m running around trying to seduce you.” She didn’t know how much Tyler had told him about New York.
“You do realize I have free will, right? So does Tyler.” He sat up and stretched, setting off a flutter in her nether regions. Such a gorgeous man. “Why don’t you call our boy, make sure he didn’t get murdered in his sleep, and tell him we survived the night.”
He kissed her cheek and disappeared into the bathroom.
Our boy. It fit. Despite the age difference, when the three were together it felt like they took care of Tyler in some ways.
Nearly seven, Tyler would be awake. She called from her cell and suffered another wave of guilt when Tyler pounced as soon as it rang.
“Nevvie?”
“Hi, Tyler. This is your morning wake up call.”
“What a beautiful wake up you are. Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah. You didn’t get murdered in your sleep? Thomas wanted to know.”
“I actually locked the doors last night.” He hesitated. “You sound a little off this morning. Are you all right, sweet?”
She held the phone away from her mouth and took a deep breath. Not much got past him. “Yeah, I’m okay. I swear I was a good girl.”
Tyler hesitated before answering. “I never doubted you would be.”
Guilt times one gazillion. The difference between angel and adulterer was Tyler’s phone call and maybe thirty seconds, not her or Thomas’ self-control.
She opted for humor. “I can’t promise I won’t feel him up on the way home.”
Did he chuckle? “I hope you do. Have him give me a call when he’s out of the bathroom. Talk to you later, love.”
Huh? She was still stuck on, “I hope you do.”
She dropped her voice. “Tyler, what the fu—”
“Sweetheart.” His firm, steady tone silenced her. “Do you trust me?”
She nodded, realized what she was doing. “Yeah.”
“Then trust me now. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Stunned, Nevvie ended the call and sat on the bed. It wasn’t that they’d exchanged, “I love yous.” That was part of everyday life now, and she knew they meant it one way while she meant it another. That didn’t surprise her.
How did Tyler know Thomas was in the bathroom?
Probably the same way she instinctively knew Tyler wanted to kiss her that morning. The same way she knew he wanted to dance the cha cha cha in New York.
The same way he knew exactly when to call them last night.
She composed herself by the time Thomas emerged, showered and shirtless. And what a nice bare chest he had.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He frowned. “Is Tyler okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. I’m…tired.”
“Well, hold on tight so you don’t fall off. I’ll get the ass chewing of my life if I bring you home with so much as a sunburn.”
He looked in the mirror and rubbed his face. “Dammit, I hate not having my razor.” The boys were different in this way too. Tyler was a traditionalist, but if Thomas didn’t have his electric razor he wouldn’t shave.
Nevvie grabbed the chair from beside the small table and pulled it over to the sink. “Sit.”
“What?”
“I’ll shave you.”
He sat while she got a fresh disposable razor from the pack she’d bought herself the evening before. She draped a towel around his shoulders and carefully applied shavi
ng gel.
“You’re not gonna slit my throat for last night, are you, baby girl?”
His teasing smile made her laugh. “No, Tommy, I wouldn’t do that to one of my boys. If I can shave my legs every day without lopping off an ankle, I think your chin won’t be any trouble at all.”
She carefully shaved him, trying to ignore how his eyes followed hers, looking at her as if wanting her to meet his gaze. His big, sweet eyes softened his rugged face. Where Tyler’s face was gentler, more rounded, Tom’s was longer and leaner, like his body.
When she finished she ran her fingers over his cheek. “All done.”
He rinsed and looked in the mirror. “Damn, you did good, baby girl.” He looked at her. “Your boys, hmm? I like that.”
She looked away, but he caught her arm and pulled her to him. “Please, Nevvie,” he said. “It’ll be okay.” He kissed her on the forehead and held her for a long moment before finally releasing her.
They ate breakfast and packed their few extras into the saddlebags. When she swung onto the bike behind Thomas, she put her arms around him. He grabbed her hand, placed it between his legs, and squeezed.
Too shocked to react, Nevvie felt him laughing and he leaned back. “Thought we should get that outta the way now so you don’t make me wreck on 75.”
She finally choked out a laugh. He patted her arm as she slid her hands back to their usual position.
This was too much. Not that she minded the flirting, but this ratcheting up of the sexual overtures was killing her.
She had time to contemplate on the ride north. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to flirt and play with them like that, but the empty feeling of going to bed alone wasn’t worth it. Sure one—hell, both—would sleep in her bed if she had nightmares or if the situation called for it.
Sleep being the operative word.
How many years could she do this? Be the frustrated straight girl in a house with two gorgeous gay guys who were determined to keep her libido on a high simmer despite not doing anything about it. Screw their appeals to trust them.
They were so good to her. She couldn’t complain how they treated her. Yet the guilt that she wanted more, wanted what she couldn’t have ate away at her like a cancer. Guilt that she was willing to put her needs over their relationship.