by Cari Quinn
Yep, he’d never get that image out of his head. And thank Jesus for that.
“Don’t move.”
She tilted her head, and one wavy dark strand fell down to cling to her bee-stung lips. “I was posing for you.”
Christ, just her voice made him harder than granite. He set aside the tripod and fumbled with the camera, taking shot after shot while she subtly shifted and adjusted her pose. Dragging one leg up so that more of that shadowy area between her thighs was revealed, leaning forward so that the buttons strained even more. Reaching up to undo all the buttons but one, so that slices of her creamy skin peeked out between the lapels. Twisting just enough to show a hint of her breast and the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth.
“Take it off.” He couldn’t believe he was saying those words, but he was. Even that small amount of fabric between them seemed like too much—even if he was on the other side of a camera. “Undress for me.”
She didn’t hesitate.
She undid the last button and shrugged off the jacket, shaking back her hair so that it tumbled over her bared breasts. Her nipples were already tight, and when she slid her leg around the guitar, she made a sound deep in her throat.
Fuck, he’d never touch that instrument again without remembering this moment.
After he’d taken as many pictures as he could stand, he set the camera on the tripod and set it to continue taking shots on a time interval. Not video. Not yet. Though if she kept making those noises while she wrapped herself around his guitar—
Shit, he’d do anything to hear more. To see more. Feel more.
“Put the jacket back on,” he murmured, standing above her where she reclined in the chair.
For a second, she didn’t move, just watched him with those jungle cat eyes and slowly licked her lips. Her gaze drifted to his cock, clearly visible in his pajama pants, before returning to his face.
“I want more pictures. Ones of you and me. Ones with Tris. Lots and lots of pictures.” She angled her head. “Including ones where I’m not pretending to fuck a guitar, but I’m really fucking both of you.”
“Goddamn.” He couldn’t breathe. Could barely hold a thought in his head. “We’ll do that. Later. I promise.”
“I know you always keep your promises, Sparks.” Though she said it playfully, he sensed there was an undercurrent beneath her words. She shrugged on the jacket and cocked her head. “Button it?”
“Fuck, it’s so hot when you wait for us to tell you what to do.”
“Just like it’s hot when you do it.” Her eyes flashed. “But only you two.”
He nodded. That was even sexier, knowing that they were the only ones she’d listen to that way. Who could control her and be controlled in return.
“Yes, button a couple buttons. Not the top two.”
When she had, he pulled her to her feet and sat back in the chair before tugging her back onto his lap. They resumed the same pose as earlier, with her cradling the guitar in her lap and him cradling her. Only difference was this time he slipped a hand under the lapel to cup her breast—and this time, a camera was capturing everything.
Her head dipped back against his shoulder as he tweaked her nipple, pinching it again and again while she fought to play a song. Any song. Her fingers stumbled and her soft bottom circled on his lap, rubbing against his aroused dick so much that he had to bite off an oath.
“Like this,” she breathed, and he nearly came in his fucking pajamas.
“Just like this.” He nipped the back of her neck and, annoyed with the jacket, he ripped open more of the buttons. But not all. She was still partially covered, but he needed to touch as much of her as possible. “Let’s give Tris something to wake up to.”
She drew her legs up, twisting them as she curved her body into Randy. “Yes, Tris. He should be out here too.”
“Soon.” Randy tipped up her face. “He’ll get to see you wearing his clothes.”
“And not wearing them,” she whispered, shrugging the jacket down her shoulders. It caught at her breasts, the remaining buttons holding it in place.
He dipped his head to kiss the top of her cleavage and ran his hand up her bare thigh. He gripped her ass and she let go of the guitar, shifting to straddle him. He cupped her ass cheeks with both hands, squeezing hard, inhaling sharply as she rode his shaft, her dark eyes so intent. So determined.
“Pictures make it permanent,” she said, her voice barely a breath. “Touch me. Harder. Leave marks.”
He caressed her much harder than he normally would have. First digging in his fingers, then rearing back to give her a short, quick slap. Her pupils flared wide and she dropped her head back, exposing her neck for him to feast on.
“Good morning to you both too.”
Instead of turning toward that deep, rumbling voice, they pretended not to have heard him. The surest way to get him to join in.
“Oh, is that how it is? Didn’t get enough last night?”
Juliet’s lips trembled into a smile that faded as Tristan walked up behind her and fisted a hand in her hair, dragging her head back. She moaned and reached up for him as their mouths clashed. And Tris’s jacket gave up the illusion of staying closed, ripping open and exposing her swollen breasts for Tris to cup and caress while Randy ran his hands up her inner thighs.
“We’re taking pictures,” he managed, wanting Tris to know what he’d walked into before things went too far.
His buddy drew back a fraction and lifted a brow. “That so?”
Juliet nodded. “Pictures for us. And for you. So you could see everything.”
“Wearing my jacket.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She stroked the lapel. “I like smelling like you.”
“Fuck. What if I don’t want to watch this time?” He plucked her up off Randy’s lap and she shifted, wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her hands in his sleep-tousled hair. Randy rose and Tris took his place in the chair, turning her around so she faced the camera. Instead of pulling her jacket open, Tris fisted a hand in the fabric to hold the lapels closed and inclined his chin toward Randy. “Get over here.”
As requested, Randy crouched on the other side of the chair, and Juliet immediately leaned to the side to kiss him while Tris gathered her hair in one hand and held the jacket closed over her straining breasts with the other. When she started to draw back, Randy followed, making her giggle. They shared playful kisses as she sat back on Tris’s lap, not stopping until her head was dangerously close to Tristan’s. Her lips, her face, the third point of a triangle that none of them could deny.
Eyes wide, she glanced between Tris and Randy, and Randy could see the pulse pounding in her throat. The bob of Tris’s Adam’s apple as he released his hold on her hair and tipped up her chin. He brushed a kiss over the corner of her mouth while Randy did the same on the other side, his own heart rocketing way too fast.
Knowing they were right there with him, feeling the same damn thing.
The vibration of a phone made Jules startle. “Damn, I think I almost came.”
Tris grinned, but there were lines of tension around his mouth that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Well, then, don’t move.” Even as he said it, he was nudging her aside to tug his cell out of the pocket of his jeans. That he’d gotten dressed at all showed he probably hadn’t intended to go down this road with them again.
Work beckoned. It always beckoned, for all of them. Holiday weekends only lasted so long.
“It’s the restaurant.” Tris helped her to her feet. When she wavered, Randy rose and steadied her, drawing her against him.
Tristan stood and paced to the windows. “Ken, what’s up?”
“You okay?” Randy asked her, brushing a kiss over the top of her hair.
“Yeah. He closes off so easily. Just shuts it all down and packs it away.” She gave a faint shudder and Randy tightened his arms around her. “It’s not as easy for us.”
Randy swallowed over the tightness in his throat. “Us? I t
hought I was alone in that.”
She turned to glance at him and shook her head. “You’re not alone in anything anymore. If you don’t want to be.”
As if she even had to ask.
Saying nothing, he closed his eyes and nuzzled her cheek. “Want to go wait for him in bed?”
“He’s not coming back,” she said quietly. Somehow she understood that whatever Tris was hearing on that phone had intruded on their fragile happiness.
When Tris turned toward them again, blue eyes blazing, Randy knew she was right.
“Which one of you was careless?” He snapped out the question, his voice a whip without a sensual edge. Meant to wound without the promise of a gentle caress afterward.
In his arms, Juliet went absolutely still.
“What do you mean?” Randy asked, keeping his tone even as a direct counterpoint to Tristan’s.
Whatever had happened, he wasn’t going to let Tristan explode at Juliet. Him, fine. But never Jules.
“That was Kendra. She was calling to see if I would be in this afternoon as planned. Since now she knew why I’d blown off work this weekend. Now she understood.”
“You blew off work?” Juliet sounded shocked. “You never do that.”
“Damn right I don’t. The only reason I did this time was because I needed to see my family. The only family I have. People I can count on not to fuck me up.”
Randy stroked a hand up and down Juliet’s arm. He didn’t think about doing it. Soothing her was as natural for him as it was to stand there, prepared to take every bit of his best friend’s anger.
He’d take it and more, but she would not. Not while he had anything to say about it.
“You’re going to want to explain what you’re talking about, Tris.”
“I went to see Hunter and Kennedy. I couldn’t fucking think. It was a goddamn holiday, and you were both off with your people, and where the hell was I?” Tris walked to the end table and shoved off the books and mail. Just let them fly. “You’re both always off doing your thing, and I’m here and I should be good with that. That was what I wanted.”
“What happened?” Randy tugged up Tris’s chef jacket onto Jules’s shoulders and massaged her tense muscles.
She still hadn’t moved.
Did she have any idea what the hell Tris was talking about? Because he sure didn’t.
“Someone posted some piece of garbage in one of those rags. A blind item anyone could figure out without much trouble. What newly minted couple in the world of music is really part of a threesome with a hotshot chef on the downlow? Here’s your Warning Sign.”
Randy barked out a laugh, maintaining his hold on Jules when Tristan spun his way. “You think this is funny? People think I’m in a goddamn threesome relationship. My restaurant is going to become a curiosity, a place for people to gawk. No one will care about the food anymore, just the notoriety.”
“Newsflash—you are in a threesome relationship. If the idea was so abhorrent to you, you shouldn’t have posed the idea at the Halloween party.”
“I posed the idea of a fuck, because you were so freaking hot for her that I didn’t want anything to screw with us long-term.”
“So I was the dog bone you were willing to share,” Juliet said coolly while Tris shoved both hands through his hair.
“No. Fuck it, no.”
“Fuck it, yes. Not in those crude terms, but let’s be real.” Randy flexed his hands on her shoulders. Any minute now, she’d probably bolt too. “We made some concessions that night because there were friendships on the line and we were all horny. That’s not where we are now, and if you think you can convince yourself that we are, you’re not only a fool but a liar.”
Tris let his hands drop and let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, this is frigging rich. You, the guy who practically wouldn’t even touch her without asking for holy forgiveness, is criticizing me for admitting I just got into this for sex.”
“No, I’m criticizing you for lying to yourself that that’s all you’re in it for now.” Gently, Randy nudged Juliet out of the way as Tristan stalked toward him and got right in his face.
Only to be pushed back himself as Juliet inserted herself between them.
“What about me? I only wanted sex too. Does that mean I’m supposed to just fuck and duck and pretend none of the rest—”
“What rest, Jules?” Tris grabbed her chin and hauled her face closer to his. “The rest where we tag-teamed you and ruined your hopes of ever settling for any other man?”
“Fuck you.” She shoved him, but he didn’t budge. So she did it again, slamming her fists against him even as he stood immovable. “If you’re ashamed of me, of us, of this, then forget it. I’ve been in a family that prided itself on secrets. I won’t live my life as a lie any longer.”
Randy frowned. What did she mean?
Evidently, Tris had some idea, because he locked his jaw. “Jules, hang on.”
“No. We’ve already been hanging out for you, giving you the space to decide you want us for real. That’s over now.” She flashed him a grim smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little blond head about it. We’re finished.”
“Oh yeah? And you get to make that call, huh?” He gripped her shoulders and for a second, Randy wasn’t sure if he intended to pick her up or kiss her stupid. Possibly both. Eyes wild, he stared at her. “Too fucking late. They already know.”
“Rumors die quickly enough without someone fanning the flames. If we aren’t together, it’ll fall apart soon enough. We can go our separate ways, and that’ll be that.”
The first spurt of panic cut through the anger. Christ, they were going to destroy them. Just wreck everything they’d begun to find without giving it a goddamn chance to grow.
Randy grabbed her elbow. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Of course he’s not.” Tris smiled coldly. “He’s been waiting for this day from the beginning. Since we’re all telling the truth, how about you do the same? Tell her how you’ve been waiting for me to hit the road so you can have her all to yourself.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Is it? Hard to tell from where I’m standing.”
“Where you’re standing is in a hole of your own making.” Randy sidestepped Juliet and went toe-to-toe with Tristan. His buddy was a little taller than him, but not much. Right now, they felt damn near evenly matched.
In all ways.
“So someone got hold of a blind item. Big deal. We hated the lie being out there about just me and Jules anyway. This way, the truth gets out and—”
“And the fucking restaurant where I’m head chef turns into a sideshow attraction.”
The slap hurt. Pretending it didn’t required more acting skills than Randy was capable of, so he didn’t bother. “Glad to know that’s the way you think of us.”
“Jesus, this isn’t about us. It’s about public perception. It’s about everything I’ve worked for going up in flames for something we all agreed was temporary. Fun and games, remember?” Tris gripped a handful of his own hair and shook his head. “This isn’t freaking fun anymore.”
“So sorry the party wasn’t to your liking.” Juliet slipped her hand into the one Randy had balled at his side. “Maybe we should just go. Obviously, we aren’t wanted here any longer.”
Perhaps it was because he knew Tris better, but Randy didn’t miss the bleakness that scrolled through Tris’s expression before he turned away.
“We don’t have to go,” Randy said quietly to his best friend’s back. “But you have to tell us you want us to stay.”
He waited for a minute. Two. When Juliet’s fingers trembled in his grip, he made the decision.
For her, he’d make the hardest choice of his life.
“Okay, we’ll leave.”
Nothing. No response at all. Tris had walled himself off and gone somewhere in his head where they weren’t invited.
Squeezing her hand, Randy led her to the door.
He had
to pack.
Chapter Twenty-Six
She’d screwed up everything. Worst of all, she didn’t have the slightest clue how to fix it.
If she even could.
Juliet and Sparks left Tristan’s loft in silence and stayed that way for most of the day. She brought him to her apartment and showed him around, letting him know that he was welcome to stay as long as he liked. He was clearly uncomfortable with that idea, and she wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t like leaning on her in any shape or form or because he thought that being in her space for more than a night indicated another level to their relationship.
From how he’d behaved with Tristan, she’d believed Sparks at least wanted something more with her. Something bigger than sex and laughter and happiness—
God, the three of them had experienced so much together already. Even if it was mostly couched in sex, there was no denying they’d swiftly developed a real bond.
Well, she and Sparks had, she was pretty sure. As for Tristan, after what he’d said, she didn’t know anymore. He’d torn them apart with a few words. Then, when Sparks had thrown him a rope to take back what he’d said, he’d just shut down.
Your fault. That story wouldn’t have come out without you. Not at that time.
She kept trying to tell herself it was all for the best. She’d wanted to know where the guys stood, and now she did. Or she was beginning to.
Sparks had indicated he was all in. Tristan had intimated he was all out.
Awfully clear, really.
So when Sparks made some noises about needing to work on some paperwork for a show he’d agreed to help out with, she allowed him the out. He needed room to process. She got it. She did too.
They’d had the most amazing night and into the morning. She’d never felt more worshipped or cherished or—let’s face it—wild and dirty in the best possible way. Every emotion she’d experienced had been heightened by what they had done together.
