It's Always Complicated (Her Billionaires Book 4)

by Julia Kent

“You’ve never said that to me before. Ever.”

  A simple shrug was her answer, because while she knew she could try to take back the words, she actually meant them.

  His brow lowered, but not in anger. Alex bit his lower lip, a habit he had when he mulled over something. The sun was low in the sky, but there was enough ethereal light to give him an outdoorsy, rugged look that she found compelling. She couldn’t stop watching him.

  “You’re right,” he said slowly, their gait changing as they meandered more, stretching out their time alone as they approached the camp office. A cluster of wedding workers hovered around the porch like worker bees at a hive.

  “It’s not a criticism. Just an observation.”

  “And an astute one,” he conceded. “I do work too hard. I have since high school, when I realized I wanted to be a doctor. I’m coming to the end of nearly fifteen years of busting myself to reach this final goal. Residency’s almost done. Then the job search.” His mild tone covered the reality of his situation. Alex was highly sought-after, and would have his pick of jobs in the late spring. He’d already been told he had a position with a popular practice in a suburb of Boston if he wanted it, with an expected salary that would make Josie’s jaw drop if it weren’t for the massive student loan payment he had to make.

  Still. They’d be comfortable.

  But the job would bring high stress with it. As Josie looked back at the ocean, she made him stop. Grabbing his hand, she started running, realizing she hadn’t even dipped her feet in the water yet.

  “What are you doing? he shouted, catching his footing quickly and running with her, adjusting his strides to her shorter legs.

  “Having more fun!” In a minute, her lungs were bursting. She didn’t run like this. Two minutes, and she had to slow down.

  By the third, they were in the water, waist deep, his arm around her, both facing the horizon.

  He kissed her wet cheek. “You taste like salt.”

  She laughed and dropped down, floating in the water, not caring about seaweed, salt, the wedding, her mother, Alex’s uncertain job future—just caring about this moment. Being here with him.

  Floating.

  Abandoned to the whims of the tides, they floated, holding hands, until she was finally ready to go back up the shore and face the enormous event they’d triggered.

  As they slogged through the water back to shore, she said, “Can we just run away and elope?”

  He laughed. “It’s a little late for that.” She had asked that question a few hundred times over the past two years, more and more lately. It was a joke.

  But not really.

  “I know.” Her sigh was a little heavier than usual.

  “I think Laura, Mike and Dylan would be pretty pissed.”

  “I don’t think they’d care.”

  “Where are they, anyhow? I haven’t seen them yet. I’ll bet Mike and Dylan would love sea kayaking.”

  “I’m guessing they’re busy with the kids right now.”

  “They’re so responsible with them. Can you imagine how hard it must be to chase down three little ones like that? I can’t.”

  Josie’s throat closed up, her body shivering with a cool breeze combined with his words. They wanted kids—someday. She wanted kids, more and more, sooner than “someday.” Now wasn’t the time to admit that, though.

  After the wedding.

  First things first.

  “Hey,” he said softly, his long arms wrapping her in love, his warm body pressing against her. Sheer size made Alex an anchor, her tiny little form no match for the mass he took up in the world. Within seconds her shiver dissipated. One minute in his arms and she melted against him, so light and relaxed she wanted to stay like this forever. Time disappeared when he held her like this.

  Too bad he couldn’t always hold her like this.

  “You okay? Really, Josie? I know this is hard, but it’s also supposed to be worth it.” His voice carried a tone that made her backpedal, seeking to assure him.

  “Very worth it. Totally worth it,” she soothed. “This has nothing to do with you. With us. It’s just the craziness of too many details and a large crowd and my mother.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “I am.”

  His lips brushed against her ear. “All right,” he said quietly, the hot breath tickling the curve of her ear. “If it’s not fun, we shouldn’t do it.”

  “I think that’s the right approach for sex, Alex, but not for weddings.”

  “I apply that principle to both.”

  “That’s because you’re a man.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re not the one being fussed over with flowers and lace and manicures and makeup.”

  “You’ll wear makeup tomorrow? It’s worth showing up to see that alone. The whole husband-and-wife thing is a bonus.” He broke away from her and jumped back, anticipating her ankle kick. She hit air instead.

  “You’ll pay for that!” she shouted as he jogged away, her puny, tired legs no match for his longtime-runner’s stride. Taunting her, Alex stayed just far enough away to emphasize the obvious difference in their physiques.

  And conditioning.

  Sandy saved her from conceding to Alex, appearing with a clipboard and a frown. “Josie? I’m so sorry to interrupt—”

  “No problem!” Josie gasped as Alex laughed, the sound booming and infectious. Sandy’s frown turned into a quizzical smile as her gaze volleyed between the two of them.

  “Everything okay?” Josie and Sandy asked each other.

  “Fine!” Josie said.

  “No,” Sandy intoned, the word elongated and troubling.

  “Uh-oh,” Josie replied. “What’s going on?”

  Alex made hand gestures that made it clear he was going back to the cabin for a shower. Josie waved him off with a thumbs up and an indulgent grin.

  “It looks like the shipment of coffee from that place in Western Massachusetts didn’t arrive in time. Miles said you and Alex were the ones who requested that coffee specifically?”

  Josie clutched her heart. “Nooooo!”

  “The delivery van had a problem and the shipment won’t arrive until the morning after the wedding,” Sandy said apologetically. “We’ll have it for the goodbye breakfast, at least.”

  Josie made a whimpering sound. “We’ll survive. Alex and I brought our own stash, anyhow. It’s just, you know, that coffee shop in Boston is my favorite, and the roasting plant is in Western Mass, and we wanted that special coffee for the wedding.”

  “I know. We have a local roaster who can bring some in. Or we can just use whatever the catering company handling the desserts and cake offers.” Even Sandy shuddered at that idea.

  “Local roaster sounds good. Can they get enough here in time?” Josie didn’t have to add that Sandy didn’t need to worry about the budget. There was no budget. Mike, Laura and Dylan had made it clear that the tab was on them.

  And to spare no expense.

  Sandy’s face split with a grin. “I’m sure they’ll make it happen. Let me give them a call.”

  “Sounds good. Hey, Sandy—have you seen Laura?”

  Sandy turned bright red, then thumbed toward the larger cabins. “Her guys and their kids all arrived about an hour ago. Settling in right about now, I’d guess.” Her eyes went wide and she bit her lip. The expression was...odd. If Josie knew the woman better, she’d ask what that meant.

  Josie felt a surprising sense of relief. Mike, Dylan, the kids, and their entourage were here. Great. More of the pieces for tomorrow’s gigantic event were falling into place.

  “I’ve got the coffee covered,” Sandy assured her, suddenly uncomfortable but clearly trying to cover it up. “No worries!” And with that, she walked off, scribbling on the clipboard and already on her smartphone, talking animatedly about roasts and volume discounts.

  Leaving Josie completely alone.

  If she walked back to the cabin, she’d find Alex in th
e shower. Mmmm, naked Alex in the shower. The vision of his long, tall, muscled frame, the wet, dark hair along his torso, his big surgeon’s hands on her under the shower’s waterfall mingled with a flash of last night, nude in bed, having sex so many times she’d woken up this morning sore and swollen.

  Blink.

  She washed away the image of Alex in the shower. Tomorrow was the wedding. She was bound and determined not to be one of those brides and grooms who didn’t have sex on their wedding night. Sex could wait.

  Besides, they had the rest of their lives for sex, right? What she needed right now was a good chat with her best friend. Pointing herself in the direction of Laura, Mike and Dylan’s cabin, she wondered if Laura was feeling as overwhelmed as she was.

  Laura probably needed to be rescued from whatever chaotic mess she was entangled in right now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Laura

  Threesome quickies were never, ever actually quick.

  What was rockin’ fast, though, was how ready Laura was for some hot, illicit action. Her body screamed for touch, at attention, her clit throbbing, nipples tight and eager for a mouth, a hand, a stroke, a tease as the three of them slid under the sheets, all giggling and chuckling, knowing they faced a world of embarrassment when they went outside, but taking a moment to not care.

  When did that ever happen?

  “This is insane,” Mike said, body tense, but melting under the friction of the three of them, her hand on his re-inflated cock, Dylan between her legs, his mouth already damn close to making her climax.

  “Insanity is our—” she gasped, “—playground.”

  “Then this is Disney World, LEGOLAND and Universal Studios combined,” Mike announced, crawling up her body, straddling her. She gratefully drew him into her mouth, adrenaline pounding through her, the groan he made as her tongue circled his cap, her hand pumping from the base up, making her mind splinter.

  Dylan’s tongue moved with expert strokes, his fingers buried in her curves, pressing her hips into the soft sheets as Mike’s powerful thighs moved against her shoulders and neck, his body so hard and corded under her touch. Her orgasm slammed into her, taking her by surprise, making her falter in her attention to Mike as she bucked up, Dylan following her, stroking and teasing, laving and touching, his sole focus her complete pleasure.

  And just then, Mike came in her mouth, an explosive groan that buried her in his unbridled climax in more ways than one. She swallowed, struggling to remember to make his pleasure important, too, her ability to process sensation torn in two different directions, even as Dylan drove her to—

  Thump thump thump.

  What the hell was that? It sounded like someone running up the stairs to the cabin.

  The clear sound of a door opening wide and the shout of Josie’s voice saying, “Hey, Laura, I’m here to—OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” cut short Laura’s dilemma.

  And how.

  All of her focus on anyone’s pleasure—hers, Mike’s or Dylan’s—ended in nanoseconds as she looked up, Mike lifting himself off her face by bending to the right and twisting to a standing position, Josie’s mortified face in the bedroom doorway.

  Staring at Dylan’s head between Laura’s thighs.

  Josie’s hands smashed to her face, palms covering her eyes, as she began to rock in place and shout, “UNSEE! UNSEE! OH MY GOD UNSEE UNSEE!”

  Thump thump thump.

  Even louder steps came as a blur flashed before Laura’s eyes, right behind Josie, Alex’s tall form filling the space behind her, clad only in running shorts, his hair wet, eyes wild with worry.

  “Oh, shit!” he shouted, coming to a halt behind her.

  Mike, naked and flustered, bent and pulled the covers over Dylan’s ass, which was currently pointed in the air, right at Josie and Alex.

  “Again?” Alex said, sputtering with laughter. “Isn’t this how I met you, Dylan? Same view?”

  Laura knew he was referring to Jillian’s birth three and a half years ago, when Dylan’s naked ass had been a spectacle for the entire birth team in the hospital after an unfortunate incident involving a forgotten set of swim trunks, the emergency pull cord for the toilet, and a birthing bathtub.

  Mike reached over to the end table and plucked his baseball cap, neatly placing it over his penis.

  “Nice. Nice way to ruin the Red Sox forever,” Josie muttered.

  “Sorry it’s not a Yankees cap,” Mike said.

  “And now I know you dress left,” she barked at Dylan, peeking between her fingers. “Way left!”

  “I dress so far left my cock lives in Hawaii,” Dylan answered.

  “Why are you looking at their penises?” Alex asked Josie in a tone of accusation that made Laura sit up. Alex could get angry? Who knew?

  “How can I not look?” Josie started to reply. “I—”

  “Right,” Dylan said. “They’re kinda hard to miss, if you know what I mean.”

  Mike was working so hard to hold himself back from laughing that the Red Sox cap started bobbing like a metronome.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Alex roared, his chest expanding, arms tightening. The whole process of watching calm, reasoned, unflappable Dr. Perfect transform into, well...a guy like Dylan was making Laura reassess how she viewed her best friend’s fiancé.

  A tense silence filled the room. Don’t say a word, she thought, wishing she could implant the words in Dylan somehow.

  “So, um, this is awkward,” Laura said, finally finding her voice.

  “Can I come out now?” Dylan asked, his voice muffled from under the covers, soft laughter tickling her inner thigh.

  “I think we need to leave, Josie,” Alex said, trying to nudge her.

  She was frozen in place, hands still over her eyes, muttering, “Unsee. Unsee. Unsee.”

  “Josie,” Laura pleaded. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?” Dylan said, his face popping up from under the covers, hair like a squirrel’s tail. “She’s the one who walked in on us in our own cabin!”

  “I didn’t think I’d walk in on you dining at the Y!” Josie screamed at Dylan.

  All pretense of politeness was long gone now.

  He just shrugged. “You walk into my bedroom, you’re getting an eyeful.”

  “You guys have three kids ages three and under. The chances of walking in on you having sex are, like, nine hundred thousand to one!”

  Mike and Dylan shared a look that made Laura give them the hairy eyeball.

  “She’s got a point,” Mike said.

  “I thought you would be here filling each other in!” Josie yelped.

  “We were just about to,” Dylan said with a leer.

  “ABOUT THE WEDDING DETAILS!” Josie bellowed.

  Even Laura started laughing. She couldn’t help it. Dylan’s breath smelled like her. She could still taste Mike on her tonsils. Alex stood there, taking in the scene, his hands on Josie’s shoulders. He couldn’t make her move.

  So he picked her up, instead. Laura watched, thoroughly amused, as the focus was off her and her guys and firmly on her deeply scandalized best friend.

  “Put me down!” Josie squealed. The size disparity between tall, Finnish-Armenian Alex and tiny little Josie made his maneuver even funnier. He plucked her into his arms like she was a Lilliputian.

  “Why? So you can watch more?” Dylan cracked.

  “Like I need to see more of your butthole,” she said, squealing as Alex sighed, lifting her and pivoting, turning her face away from them.

  “It’s been, um....interesting,” he said, looking at Dylan and Mike, clearly avoiding eye contact with Laura, who buried her face under the sheet. All she heard as he left was Josie whispering in frantic, hushed tones and the thump thump thump of footsteps receding.

  “Interesting isn’t the word I would use,” Dylan said from above. “That sucked.”

  Mike started to laugh, the sound twinned with movement on the edge of the mattress. Lau
ra felt his body move against hers, over the sheet, the gentle shaking of his giggles turning into a manual vibration as he whooped and gasped.

  “Sure. Laugh it up, Hat Boy. You aren’t sitting there with a case of blue balls the size of planets,” Dylan groused.

  Laura’s laughter—and absolute embarrassment—superseded her sympathy for Dylan. At least, temporarily. She could always help him with those planets in a few minutes. Right now, though, she couldn’t do anything but laugh at the absurdity of what had just taken place.

  Mike was upset about the phone sex. Cyndi had seen Mike naked. Sandy, too. Dylan had stormed in and they’d decided to have a quickie. A quickie that Josie witnessed (at least, partially...).

  Never one for public sex, Laura found herself so overcome that her laughter quickly became a kind of asthmatic wheeze, propelled by the burning sensation that she’d just lit herself on fire and flung herself into a social outcast funeral pyre.

  The three of them tried so hard to be private about their sex life. Being judged for living in a permanent threesome was hard enough. Having anyone scrutinize their actual sex life was a form of torture.

  “You can take care of those blue balls with a few strokes and some hand lotion,” Mike said to Dylan, a distinct lack of sympathy in his voice.

  “Fuck off!” Dylan shot back.

  “I love you, too,” Laura whispered, the mood going so dark, so swiftly, that she couldn’t think of anything else to say. A chill settled into the space between the three of them, so non-wedding-like it made a part of her turn into an emotional black hole, like a sucking chest wound had appeared out of nowhere.

  Mike opened his mouth to reply, the look on his face a mixture of a few hundred emotions, none of them positive, just as a tentative tap on the front door caught their attention.

  “Hello?” said a shaky voice, a man’s deep bass, the sound carrying through from the porch to the bedroom.

  In a flash, Mike’s blue eyes widened, his spine elongating as he pulled himself up to full height, a look of incredulity on his face. Blinking furiously, he looked at Laura, then Dylan, bending down to shove one leg in his discarded jeans.

  “Who’s that?” Dylan asked, sitting up, the sheet pooling off him like liquid cotton, sliding to the ground.