Troy opens it, and looks normal. Confused, I push past him and see her on the couch looking so breathtaking that it doesn’t register why, at first.
Her lips.
They’ve been kissed.
That’s why her cheeks are flushed, too. She glows. And he’s the one who lit up her skin.
The next few minutes are a blur.
White has edged into my brain, robbed me of sight. Memory. Judgment.
Leave, Jack.
Go.
You chose this.
You gave her him.
He’s calling your name. Damn him. What’s he gonna say that could make this better? But then I hear her.
Marion.
Sweet Marion.
And I turn around.
Her dress falls to the ground.
With it, my restraint.
Don’t do this, Jack.
You can’t.
I’m just a man.
Don’t hate me, David.
“I want you both.”
My feet didn’t expect that. She wants us, not just me? I don’t share. It’s not in my nature. Turning my head I lock eyes with Troy, the bartender I befriended for no other reason than I liked him. He’s easy going. A good guy. Adds to a room, never subtracts from it.
But I never thought of sharing a woman with him. And certainly not Marion.
“I’m not opposed to it. But it’s not my call,” he says.
Mar’s voice is filled with authority. “It’s my call!”
We both look over to see her finger slide down her soft stomach. No way is she going to touch herself out here in the damn hallway!
My cock throbs as I follow that finger farther down over her shaved mound. Did she shave it for him?
“Don’t do it,” I groan, wanting her to.
She slips her hand between her legs and leans against the doorjamb, rocketing my pulse to a place where I will give her anything she wants.
I snatch her up and consider slamming the door on him. But something stops me. And soon the lock is clicking into place, sealing our fate.
Mar’s heart-shaped chin is tilted up to me. Her eyelashes are heavy, huge eyes smoldering. I lay her on the couch and my fingers slide over her ass, the tips touching the edges of her smooth pussy to see how wet she is. If she’s dripping, I’ll feel it. A groan rumbles out of my chest as my fingertips slip and slide on her arousal. I close my eyes, wincing with lust.
Troy takes a deep breath like an animal who knows the scent I’m following. I look over, my voice deeper. “Almost forgot you were there.”
“Can’t believe I am,” he smirks. “We doing this?”
“Can you think of a better invitation?” I slowly wave my hand over her bare skin. “We’ve gotta be gentle.”
“The leg.”
“Right.”
Mar sighs and traces my forearms, picking at the dress-shirt. “Take this off,” she breathes.
I undo my tie, start to unbutton, eyes locked on hers until I realize Troy’s not moving. I cut a look his way and he rips off his Henley in one swift shot.
“Good thing I’m a virgin,” Mar says.
Troy and I freeze.
She laughs, and we relax as he teases her, “Liar.”
“Couldn’t keep a straight face,” she smirks and touches her nipples, flicking them.
I’m so hard it hurts.
I want her enough that I’ll even let him touch her if that’s what she needs to get off. She glances from Troy to me and holds here.
But the years pass backward to a time when I knew this was fucked up.
I stop unbuttoning. “I can’t.”
Her lips part. “Jack!” She sits up with a start.
Grabbing my tie from the ground where I didn’t even know I’d tossed it, I head for the door. But first, I grab Troy. “She’s off limits.”
He blinks at me, shirtless and pants tented just like mine. His jaw ticks. I can’t blame his hesitation. His voice is a snarl of war against rebellion, “Fine. Okay.”
Marion screams, “What?!”
He whips his Henley off the floor and puts it on as I turn to her and try my best to explain. The blood isn’t in my brain and all I’ve got is a grunted, “Your dad, Marion—”
She cuts me off, “—My dad is out there sleeping with every woman in their twenties—why can’t you?!”
“Because I care about you, kid. I care, that’s why.”
She slumps, helpless and pissed off. “Get back here, Jack.” She points at her pussy. “Come touch me!”
“No.” Flipping around I lock eyes with Troy. “Defy my wishes and our deal is done.”
“I don’t care about the damn deal, Jack,” he says through gritted teeth and sincerity. “I won’t touch her out of respect to you. We’re friends.”
This hits me deep, and I pause, nod, and march off to my Tesla.
Will I regret this?
Of course I will.
11
TROY
What am I going to do with the stone pole between my legs and the naked ballerina glaring at me from the couch?
I pick up the dress he forgot to give her so she can cover up. Poor guy. It took everything he had to make that choice. I have no clue what that must have felt like. I’m not in his shoes.
To a degree, though, I get it. I want her so bad I’m still licking my lips for the taste hers left behind. I saw his fingers touch her seam, and by the look in his eyes, she was drenched.
My cock is pounding.
Is she going to try to make him pay by seeing if she can fuck me right here and now, just to spite him for running out like that? Mar’s thinking about it. I can see it in her conniving eyes.
She sighs and drops her head on the back of the couch in defeat. “Fine. I’m not going to beg you, Troy. Get over yourself.”
My jaw ticks, because ego has nothing to do with this. Or does it? Who knows? Who can think? My blood left my brain when she dropped her dress.
Handing it to her, I grunt, “Here.”
She snatches it so fast it’s audible. “Why didn’t you convince him?”
“I would never do that.”
“Weak?”
“You have any friends, Marion? Real friends?” Her eyelashes flutter as I sit on the red ottoman. “Like that guy who came
