by Tara Rose
Nash stared at his friend for a long time. The immediate need to deal with Trace faded a bit as he heard the wail of police sirens. He still needed to make an appearance outside, but now it could wait for a second or two. “Why am I just hearing now how you feel about her?”
Ian shrugged. “She was with Brett all the time, though who the fuck knows why she kept taking him back. It’s not like I was going to act on it or anything. But now that she’s done with him for good, well…here we are.”
Nash shook his head. He didn’t know whether to laugh or simply walk away. “So, what do we do now?”
“I wish I knew. But what bothers me most right now is that she thinks she somehow failed tonight, or that we’re upset with her. We need to fix that, Nash.”
“I agree. We shouldn’t have pushed her into a scene so fast. We both should have known better. But she was so ready for it, and we talked about everything, and I got a positive vibe from her, you know?”
“I know. I felt the same vibe or I would have said something.”
Nash sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Okay. I have to get outside and see what the hell is going on with Trace, but we’ll fix this as soon as I’m done. We’ll go and talk to her. Take her out to dinner. Something. I can’t just leave her thinking she screwed up somehow.
“I can leave now and go talk to her if you want.”
Nash narrowed his eyes and studied Ian’s face carefully. “Ian, if you want me out of the picture, this is the time to say so. I know we talked before she showed up tonight, but considering your revelation, it’s probably no longer a good idea for both of us to pursue her.”
Ian hesitated and Nash held his breath. He didn’t want to be out of the picture, but he owed Ian that right if he said so. Angela had captivated him, and he wanted to get to know her better, but he’d be a giant shit if he stepped in Ian’s way on purpose. He’d never do that.
Ian shook his head. “No, that’s not fair. We talked about seeing where this went together, and she was enjoying both of us tonight. She placed her trust in each of us, so she should hear an apology and an explanation from you and me. Whether or not she wants to pursue anything with both of us, one of us, or neither of us, should be her decision, not ours.”
“Ian, I appreciate that. I really do. And what’s most important is that she isn’t left out there right now, thinking she did something wrong.”
“I’ll go and talk to her, but that’s all I’ll do. You have my word on that, Nash.”
Nash shook his friend’s hand. “Thanks, Ian. I mean that. You’re a loyal friend.”
Ian clapped him on the back. “You go help Tommy kick Trace’s ass, and I’ll come back here after I’ve talked to Angela.”
Nash groaned inwardly as soon as he stepped out his front door and saw the commotion on his lawn. “Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered, walking toward a cluster of security guards. Tommy stood to one side of Trace Coleman, flanked by two Passion Peak cops. Trace was in the middle of the melee, shouting loudly. Nash had the uncomfortable feeling he was putting on a show more than anything else.
Why had he shown up here tonight, expecting to be let inside? Was he creating a diversion? As Nash made his way across the lawn, he called one of his guards and asked him to take a few others with him to the back of the house and keep an extra eye on things. When he reached the group, Tommy stepped aside so that Nash could face Trace.
“Trace, what the fuck are you doing back on my property?”
Trace puffed out his chest. “It’s a public place.”
“It is not. It’s a private estate, and Indulgence is a private club. You’re not welcome in it. You have exactly three seconds to get back into your ‘Stang and get the fuck off my property, or I’ll have these cops arrest you for trespassing.”
Trace reached into his pants pocket and pulled out wadded paper. He shook them in Nash’s face. “I have medical bills. Your tree landed on my head.”
Tommy chuckled and Nash fought hard not to laugh. “Yeah. While you were trespassing on my property, after you climbed over my fence.” Nash took a step closer, and as he predicted, Trace backed up a couple of paces. He smelled like fear, and Nash hated him all the more for that. He wasn’t even a man. “You take those medical bills and shove them up your ass because we’ll see snow in August on Juniper Street before I give you a dime for them.”
“My attorney will be in touch.”
“I look forward to it.”
Trace tossed the paper onto the ground, and one of the cops picked it up. Then Trace climbed into his car and gunned the engine while Nash and Tommy exchanged an amused glance. When Trace finally peeled out, he left divots in the lawn and sprayed gravel from the edge of the driveway all over everyone standing around watching him, but the cops, Tommy, Nash, and his guards were too busy laughing to give a shit.
* * * *
Angela pulled into the garage of her condo, and once inside, she shed her clothes as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom, just letting them land wherever. She didn’t give a shit. She put on her favorite Bugs Bunny shorts and a bright-yellow tank top that had seen better days, wincing as she caught a glimpse of her ass in the mirror. It was pretty red, and it hurt when she touched it. Wonderful. Now she had both a visual and a tactile memory of the night she made a complete fool of herself with the two men she’d fantasized about for years.
“Way to go, Davidson.”
Not even Bugs Bunny could fix this night. The damn shorts were among the most comfortable sleeping clothes she had, and just wearing them hurt. She padded downstairs and pulled a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Oatmeal Cookie Chunk ice cream out of the freezer, peeling off the lid. Normally, she spooned a couple of scoops into a coffee mug and forced herself to eat only that, but tonight she simply took a spoon out of the drawer and carried it and the pint into the living room.
She switched on the TV and found The Great Gatsby on one of the movie channels. Angela curled her legs underneath her body and watched Robert Redford and Mia Farrow gaze adoringly into each other’s eyes. Perfect. She’d live vicariously through them tonight because it was a given that no man was going to gaze into her eyes anytime soon, adoringly or not.
She only half watched the movie because her mind was too busy reliving the moments just before the scene had become too much for her. Angela had thought she understood impact play from watching it so many times with Brett, but now she realized she didn’t know shit about it, or about the lifestyle, for that matter. She’d been such a fool to think she could simply show up and play without really knowing what was involved.
She should have known better, but she’d simply been so damn excited by the possibilities tonight could bring. She’d made a damn mess out of that. They might even have jumped to the conclusion by now that she’d played them. She’d have to make sure they knew she hadn’t meant to do that.
She’d had fantasies about BDSM for years, and had entertained the possibility for too long that one day Brett would share her interest. But if she were being honest, she’d known from the start he was never going to. But Brett was gone and she no longer had to consider his needs. She wanted desperately to explore this and learn more. Had she fucked up that possibility already?
She tried to push Ian’s words tonight out of her mind, but it was difficult to. She hadn’t anticipated him saying that he’d had a crush on her for years, any more than she’d anticipated the rest of the events tonight. He had actually said that. What would he and Nash say if she told them how often they’d each starred in her fantasies? And did that even matter now?
She’d finished a quarter of the pint and already had mind-numbing brain freeze when the doorbell rang. She blinked a few times, convinced she’d imagined it. When it rang again, she grew fearful that something had happened to one of her family members. Placing the pint of ice cream on the floor next to the sofa, she glanced at her phone, but no one had called. How odd. It must be bad news for someone to simply show up.
She yanked open the doo
r, expecting to see one of her parents or cousins, but instead Ian stood there, still dressed in leather, his green eyes blazing with hope. “Hi. Can we talk?”
Angela stepped aside to let him in, still not believing he was here at her condo. When his gaze roamed slowly over her outfit, she fought the urge to run upstairs and put on some real clothes. Screw it. Let him look. He’d done more than that less than an hour ago. If he was here to pick up where they’d left off at Indulgence, he was going to have to do a lot of explaining first, and even then she wasn’t sure she wanted to pursue this. She was still too humiliated.
“Come on in.” She resumed her place on the sofa and picked up the ice cream. “Have you seen this movie? I love it.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve seen it.”
She kept her gaze on the TV and shoveled another large spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.
“You shouldn’t eat that stuff. You’ll get cavities.”
Angela glanced at him, convinced now that he was teasing her because of the humor in his voice, and was treated to a grin that sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her body. Damn him and his incredible good looks. Why had he left the club and come here tonight? “Good thing I work for a dentist then.”
The grin faded, and guilt washed over her. It wasn’t like her to be so bitchy. Ian had come here to talk to her, and the least she could do was give him some measure of courtesy. Angela snapped off the TV and rose to put the ice cream back into the freezer. When she returned to the living room, he was sitting on the sofa. He patted the space next to him, and for reasons she didn’t understand, she took a seat too close to him. What was it about him and Nash both that compelled her to obey, even in this state of mind?
As if she hadn’t already felt like the biggest loser on the planet, now she had to deal with the fact that he’d caught her like this—clothes strewn all over her living room and shoveling ice cream into her face while she watched a sappy movie. There were dozens of people in the lifestyle here in Passion Peak, and at least half them had been in the club tonight, yet she was the only one who had stormed out, crying. What must he think of her right now? “Ian. I’m really sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean to—”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” His words cut her off in midsentence. “I’m here to apologize to you, for both of us. Nash and myself.”
What? “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yes we did. Please just listen, okay?” Ian took her hands, and she flinched without meaning to. Not because she didn’t want him touching her, but because she was shocked that he was being so sweet. “Angela, you did nothing wrong tonight. Nash and I…how do I explain this…Nash and I have a complicated history where women are concerned. We talked a bit before you showed up tonight because it was obvious after you texted him that both of us had invited you to Indulgence. And, we’ve both played together with a sub before. But …”
He shifted in his seat, and Angela stared at him with her mouth open because if he wasn’t embarrassed and uncomfortable right now, she’d eat the teaspoon in her sink. “But now it’s also become apparent that we both want to pursue this, and I’m not sure how we’re going to handle it. I told Nash I’d come and talk to you because we don't want you left with the impression you screwed up. You didn’t. And we also wanted to apologize for the way we behaved in front of you after the scene. You didn’t need to see that between us.”
Angela was stunned into silence. She truly had no idea what to say, so instead she simply stared into Ian’s eyes and waited for him to speak again.
“But I meant what I said about having had a crush on you for years.”
She swallowed hard. “I didn't know you did.”
“I know you didn’t. And you were with Brett all the time, so I didn’t do anything about it.”
“He’s gone now.”
“I know that, too.”
Angela averted her gaze for a moment because looking into his eyes suddenly made her want to throw her arms around him and kiss him into oblivion.
“Angela, I need to know if you’re all right with everything that happened tonight.”
“I guess so.”
“I guess so isn’t good enough. Tell me what’s still bothering you.”
Her gaze swept around the room, and when it fell on her discarded club wear strewn all over the stairs, she mentally winced again. Maybe he hadn’t noticed it? She didn’t want him thinking she was a total slob. “I made a fool of myself by storming out of there.”
“No you didn’t. And, just so you know? Nash would have come here as well, but he had to deal with Trace Coleman first.”
“Who is Trace Coleman?”
“He’s a fake ghost hunter who’s been trying to get into some of the old homes in town and investigate.”
“Well, I don’t know what else to say, Ian. I’m sorry I left like that, but I didn’t understand what was going on between you and Ian, and I felt like it was my fault. I was humiliated that I had to call a safeword so soon. I thought you two were disappointed in me.”
Ian surprised the hell out of her by pulling her into a tight embrace. Angela moaned and pressed her body against his muscled one as erotic images danced through her head. All she wanted to do at that moment was shed Bugs Bunny and the tank top, and fuck him silly.
“Angela, I wish you’d believe me.” His voice was soft and warm, and his breath tickled her neck. Her clit began to throb. “You did not disappoint us. We were both so pleased with how much you were able to take. It was your first real exposure to impact play. And what was going on between me and Nash was entirely our doing. You had no fault in that.”
“So, what happens now?” She knew what she hoped would happen, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Now, Nash and I would like to take you to dinner tomorrow night.” He pulled away and looked into her eyes. “What do you say?”
Dinner with Ian and Nash? The two men who had starred in her fantasies for years? How could she say no to that?
Chapter Seven
Angela had been dressed and ready for almost half an hour when the sound of a car motor outside reached her ears. She had to fight the impulse to simply run outside. “Calm down,” she muttered. “They’re only human.”
Right. That might be true, but right now, they were both the key to unlocking fantasies she’d harbored since high school. She’d been thinking about this ever since Ian left last night. She’d dreamed about it, and over breakfast this morning she had written it all down in case she got tongue-tied later when she finally worked up the courage to ask them.
Ian had left shortly after she said she’d love to go to dinner with them tonight, and it had taken every ounce of self-control she had not to beg him to stay the night. She’d been tortured by erotic dreams all night. Had that been his plan all along?
When her doorbell rang, she forced herself to walk slowly toward the door. She opened it and couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of them. Both wore sport coats, button-down shirts, and Ralph Lauren dress pants that made them look incredibly sexy.
Ian’s chocolate-brown coat and burgundy shirt brought out the green in his eyes, and Nash’s fawn-colored coat and robin’s-egg-blue shirt made his eyes appear even bluer. Their combined cologne scents filled the air, forcing memories from last night through her mind.
“Hi. You both look amazing.”
Ian’s lips were slightly parted as his gaze roved over her. Nash stared into her eyes for a few seconds before he also took in her appearance. Angela had chosen this dress carefully. It showed off her cleavage but wasn’t slutty. The skirt was short enough to showcase her legs, but not so short that she’d give a free show to everyone in the restaurant if she bent over to pick up a fork or something. She’d worn the shoes because they matched the color of the dress, but also because they were sexy as hell.
“Wow.” Ian cleared his throat. “That’s a perfect color on you.”
Angela smiled. Bingo. “Thank y
ou, Ian.”
Nash chuckled and held out his arm, which she took. “Everyone in The Cranberry Roost will be gossiping about this for months.”
“Is that where we’re going?” She hadn’t asked Ian last night, and immediately felt foolish for asking now. Why else would Nash have mentioned it? The Cranberry Roost was a posh place, and she hadn’t expected them to treat her to such a lavish meal.
“It is. Hope that’s all right.” They descended her front steps. “You’re certainly dressed for it. You should wear that color more often. It brings out your eyes.”
More often? How would Nash know what she wore? He barely left his house. “Thank you.”
“Her scrubs are close to that color,” said Ian.
Heat filled her face as Nash opened the passenger door and she slid inside. He got in the driver’s seat, and Ian climbed in the back. “That’s true,” she said, turning in her seat to face Ian. “We’ve worn royal-blue scrubs since I started working there, although the color tends to fade once you’ve washed them too many times.” Just shut up. They don’t give a crap about laundry tips.
Angela glanced at the leather and wood interior of Nash’s Infiniti as they pulled out into traffic. “This is nice.”
“I enjoy driving it.”
“He likes to flaunt his wealth,” said Ian. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and Angela knew he was only teasing, but it suddenly occurred to her that these two had been good friends for a long time, and she knew nothing about their dynamics. She’d already misjudged them once last night. She didn’t want to screw up like that again.
Nash glanced at her with a grin that sent tiny contractions straight to her pussy. “He’s been jealous of me for years.”
“He only wishes that were true.”
“Did you two room together in college?” She knew Ian was an electrical engineer, but she had no clue what Nash had majored in.
Ian shook his head. “Not right away. We had intro to psych together as freshmen, and got to know each other in that class when we worked on a group project.”
