by Lolita Lopez
Whitney’s eyebrows arched as she questioned their reasoning. “So you would be squeaky clean when you wiped up the mess?”
“Errr…” Mick looked sheepish. “Yeah. That’s a good point.”
“Clearly planning isn’t one of his strong suits,” Eddie said as he came into the room and gestured at the mess.
“Kind of scary for a doctor,” Whitney said, needling her good friend.
Mick played up the puppy-dog eyes. “You’re mean.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t work on me. I’m immune after all this time living with you.”
“Thank god.” Eddie took the pillow closest to her and reached for the pitcher of iced tea. He filled her glass first then Mick’s and his. Rather shockingly, he leaned over and pecked her cheek. “Thank you for grabbing dinner and picking up the mess.”
“You’re welcome.” Whitney’s skin tingled from the warmth of his unexpected kiss.
“Hey! Don’t leave me out.” To her utter surprise, Mick leaned across the makeshift table and kissed her other cheek. “Thank you, Whit.”
“Anytime.” Whitney’s face blazed. Sure, as roommates, the three of them had constant contact, but never kisses, not even gentle, chaste ones like the two she’d just received. Something had changed. Had it been inspired by her transformation in attitude? She had been bold as brass and felt up Eddie while she grabbed his keys.
“So,” Mick said as he dished out food onto his plate, “how was Paris? How was Miami?”
“Miami was fabulous!” Whitney poked a pair of chopsticks into the nearest container of fried rice and pushed a serving onto her plate. “It was so nice to see the girls and lounge around the pool with a mojito and a good book. There are some amazing clubs down there. And the food!” She closed her eyes in exaggerated remembrance. “Delicious!”
“Clubs, huh?” Eddie’s tone caught her attention. She sensed a little jealousy. “You were careful, right?”
“I watched my drink like a hawk. I declined the shots offered to me from random dudes. I came in a group and left in a group. I kept my pepper spray and the rape whistle you gave me in my purse. We took a cab between the hotel and club instead of walking because it was late at night.” She squared her shoulders and held his gaze. “Does Sergeant Dillon approve?”
Eddie flashed a devastatingly sexy grin. “He does. Well done.”
She preened. “Thank you.”
“So did you meet anyone?” Mick focused on his egg-drop soup, but Whit could tell he was anything but disinterested.
“I met lots of great people, but if you’re asking whether or not I met a man”-she paused to gauge Mick’s response-“the answer is no. I wasn’t actually on the lookout for a hookup. I was a bit more career-minded on this one.”
Mick’s brow furrowed. “Are you thinking of switching jobs?”
“Sort of,” Whitney said, twirling noodles around her chopsticks. “I feel like I’ve gone as far as I possibly can at the style house. I want something different. I’ve worked my ass off since high school. I interned at fashion magazines and with some of the best designers around. I’ve done public relations and marketing. I’m not getting to use any of those skills right now. I’m just styling clothes for shoots and shows.”
“But you love styling,” Mick pointed out in between sips of soup.
“I do,” she agreed, “but I want to do something more.”
“Do you have a plan?” Eddie seemed concerned. “The job market is rough, Whit. I’d hate to see you leave a fairly well-paying and stable job for something that may not pan out immediately.”
“I do have a plan.” Her stomach fluttered with anxiety. She’d made her decision, but it didn’t make it any less scary. “An old mentor of mine is opening a public relations, marketing, and branding firm. It’s a big deal. She has lots of awesome, first-rate clients lined up already. And she wants me to head the styling side of things.” Whitney waved her hand. “I’ll work with clients on developing their brand, and direct and design photo shoots and shows around that brand.”
“Wow.” Eddie sat back, clearly impressed.
“Definitely a wow,” Mick echoed. “That’s a great opportunity, Whitney. And it speaks highly of how well regarded you are by your peers.”
“I guess,” she said, a little discomfited. “I just try to work hard and come up with new, fresh ideas.”
“That’s exactly why you’re being headhunted,” Eddie said. “Your mentor sees what we see. You’re brilliant. You have a great work ethic.”
“You obviously know fashion,” Mick interjected. “You busted your backside in college and earned double degrees on top of your internships. Your mentor would be crazy not to ask you to join her new venture.”
“So you think I was right to give notice and take the job?” Whitney desperately needed to know what they thought.
“Absolutely,” they said in unison.
“Good,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Because even though I’m excited about the new prospect, I’m really scared. I mean, I have enough money socked away to pay rent and-”
“Whitney,” Eddie interrupted, “don’t worry about the rent.”
“Eddie’s right,” Mick said with a nod. “If you find yourself in a tight spot, let us know, and we’ll cover your portion of the rent. We’re not underwater on the mortgage anymore. Eddie’s salary freeze was finally lifted. My salary increase will go into effect next month. We’re okay. Really,” he said, with a reassuring pat of her hand.
Whitney’s chest tightened. “Well, I mean, if you guys are okay on the cash flow front, does that mean you’ll want me to move out soon?”
“No!” They answered uniformly and stridently. The pair exchanged looks. Eddie took the lead. “What we mean is that we’re very happy with our current living situation. Unless you want to leave, you’re welcome to stay.”
“You know, like, forever,” Mick said with a smile.
A thrill of excitement sped along her spine. “Tempting.”
* * * *
A few hours later, Mick smiled as he listened to Whitney boss Eddie around while they installed the window unit in her bedroom. No doubt Eddie could put the A/C in the window blindfolded, but he said nothing. Any other man would have snapped at Whitney by now but not Eddie. He just wasn’t that guy.
Although, knowing Eddie, he was probably itching to throw Whitney across his lap and spank her cute little ass. Like most Doms, he had a thing for spanking, but only women. Mick was A-OK with that. He didn’t get off on spanking and was only mildly interested in the BDSM scene. When he and Eddie slept together, they only very rarely dabbled in bondage or domination. A little here and there made things interesting. Every day? Not so much. At least not for Mick.
But judging by Whitney’s reading tastes, she’d probably enjoy Eddie’s hands-on training. Mick wouldn’t mind watching either. His groin tightened as he imagined Whitney’s bare ass up in the air as Eddie’s big hand smacked the supple flesh. Mick had always been a bit of a voyeur. Watching the man he cared about most and the young woman who had captured his affection in a kinky spanking scene would definitely rock his world.
Speaking of rocking his world…
Mick was certain Whitney had heard him and Eddie going at it in the shower earlier. She’d had that nervous and slightly guilty look on her face during dinner. Had she been conjuring up filthy visions to go with the noises she’d overheard? He sure as hell would have been if the tables had been turned and he’d overheard Whitney and Eddie going at it in the shower.
It probably wasn’t the first time she’d overheard their lovemaking. A few times, she’d given them both the stink eye after they’d brought women back to the house. She had a fair point, though. It wasn’t right that strangers-to her-were running free in her home. Had the roles been reversed, he and Eddie would have been less than pleased to see a half-naked man strolling between her bedroom and the kitchen.
Less than pleased was an understa
tement. Pissed. Jealous. Yeah. That was more like it.
Eddie’s jealous tone hadn’t escaped him when Whitney had been talking about the clubs in Miami. Eddie could say he didn’t want to play with fire until he was blue in the face, but Mick knew better. Eddie wanted Whitney something fierce. Their desire for Whitney was only rivaled by the connection they shared with one another.
Eddie feared the burn of another rejection, but Mick had the perfect salve. He wasn’t afraid to get back on the metaphorical horse and give it another go. More importantly, Mick believed Whitney was the girl for them. For so long, Mick and Eddie had struggled with the knowledge they came as a matched set. They naturally gravitated toward a ménage and needed a woman who craved that cozy spot between them.
That woman was Whitney. Mick believed down to the very bottom of his soul. The problem? How to breech the subject with her and convince Eddie to give love a chance. It wouldn’t be easy, but Mick was a natural problem solver. As a trauma surgeon, he was quick to think on his feet, calm under pressure, and adept at piecing together solutions.
From Mick’s point of view, Whitney was ripe for the plucking, so to speak. She’d just committed to a huge change in her life. She’d proven she wasn’t averse to risk and was open to trying new things. What better time than now to make his move?
Except he had to tread carefully, very carefully. Eddie’s wounds from the Miranda fiasco were still very raw. He tried to play it off, but Mick knew better. Eddie’s skittishness toward Whitney stemmed from that fear. Making the first move with Whitney would be easy for Mick, but Eddie would feel alienated, maybe even betrayed. He refused to hurt his friend, his lover, like that.
So Mick would have to be sneaky. He’d have to find a way to push Eddie and Whitney together without looking blaringly obvious. Eddie had to make the first move. Whitney had to want Eddie, had to choose him first, or else no dice. Whatever Mick’s feelings toward Whitney, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, act upon them if it meant hurting Eddie.
“Can you believe her?” Eddie asked, his face ruddy with exasperation as he barreled into the living room. He tossed down the empty box and put his toolbox on the floor. “Bossing me around like she’s an expert electrician.”
Mick laughed and clapped Eddie on the back. “Was she right?”
Eddie looked peeved. “Anyone can read an instruction manual and follow the directions.”
“So she was right.”
“Yes,” Eddie grudgingly admitted. “You want a beer?”
“If you can squeeze in there, yes.”
“Whit,” Eddie called out, “you want a glass of wine?”
“No, thanks.” She popped into the living room with an armload of beauty supplies and clothes. “I’m going to scrub up and brush my teeth and then head to bed early. I’ve got to run into the office first thing in the morning.”
“Oh.” Mick tried not to show his disappointment. “Well, we’ll try to keep it down.”
She quirked a smile, a deliciously naughty smile that confirmed Mick’s suspicions about her overhearing their tryst earlier. “See that you do.”
Mick waited until she disappeared around the corner and he heard the telltale click of the bathroom door closing. He turned to Eddie and took the opened beer extended his way. “She totally heard us.”
Eddie paled. “You think?”
“I know.” Mick sipped the ice-cold beer and shrugged. “It’s not as if it’s the first time.”
“Yeah, but I was rough with you. And we were loud about it.” Eddie glanced toward the hallway. “I don’t want to scare her.”
“Eddie”-Mick touched his arm-“I don’t think she minds. Remember the books? I’m telling you. Whit is totally into BDSM. Or, at least, she’s curious.”
“Maybe,” Eddie said, his concern fading.
Mick realized this was his chance and seized it. What better way to push Eddie and Whit together than to stoke his jealousy?
“Hey, maybe you should take her to that club of yours. She could find a nice Dom there in that beginner’s-program thing they run there. You know some of the Doms, right? Work buddies and all that. Maybe you could suggest one of the guys to help her find her way.”
As soon as his suggestion hit Eddie’s ears, Eddie stiffened. Mick squashed the smug smile threatening to curve his mouth. Success!
“Hell no!” Eddie took a swig of beer. “She’s not going to submit to some random stranger.”
“If she’s curious, wouldn’t it be a safe way for her to feel out the lifestyle in a public club?” It was wrong, but he had to keep pushing until Eddie went over the edge. “She’d be better off letting someone spank her in a club filled with people than alone in some weirdo’s bedroom.”
Eddie shook his head. “If Whitney wants a taste of domestic discipline, it’ll be my hand spanking her ass.”
“What happened to your no-playing-with-fire stance?”
Eddie shot him a disdainful look. “I know what you’re doing, Mick. You’re trying to goad me into making a move.”
“Is it working?”
Eddie snorted. “Maybe.”
“Come on, big guy,” Mick said, smacking his friend’s back. “We’ve tap danced around this issue for months. She reads kinky books, so we know she’s at least open to the idea of a ménage and your particular flavor of loving. Plus she groped you right here in our living room. She’s into you, Eddie.”
“What about you?”
Mick grinned. “Have you ever met a woman who wasn’t into me?”
Eddie tossed his head back and barked with laughter. “You’re so fucking full of yourself.”
“Hell yes,” he agreed, “but I’m right. She’s into me. And you.” Mick turned serious. “It’s time, Eddie. We have to do this.”
“Have to do what?” Whitney asked, surprising them both as she popped into the living room. Her face was pink and bright from a good scrubbing. She’d let her hair down and changed into a pair of thin cotton pajama pants and a matching blue camisole. The little peek of tanned skin between her top and pants tempted him.
“We have to ask you for a favor,” Eddie said, quickly recovering from her unexpected appearance.
“Sure,” she said happily. “What is it?”
Eddie shot him a quick look of desperation. Mick made something up on the fly. “Uh, well, you know I screwed up the air conditioner, so we were wondering if we could sleep with you.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Bed down with you,” Eddie hastily clarified. “You know, throw some sleeping bags on your floor.”
“Oh. Well…”
“I have a long day tomorrow,” Eddie continued. “We’re serving warrants on some pretty bad guys. I could use a good night’s sleep.”
Mick was impressed. Eddie was laying it on thick. Of course, he’d learned from the master.
“I guess that’s okay.” Whitney pointed at both of them. “But no funny business!”
Mick crossed his fingers behind his back and smiled innocently. “Promise.”
Chapter Three
Whitney stared at the ceiling. The lights had been off for almost an hour, yet she remained awake. Her mind raced with troubling thoughts. There was the uncertainty of the new job and the sadness of leaving her old one. She had to tie up a ton of loose ends at work. There was sure to be a mad shuffle as her colleagues vied for her position. She just hoped she wouldn’t be roped into the selection process for choosing her successor. That was a whole new level of drama she didn’t need.
Mick tossed and turned on the floor. He’d thrown down his sleeping bag and pillow and taken the open spot on the left side of her bed. Whitney had expected Eddie to take the right side, the one closest to the air conditioner, but to her surprise he’d chosen the spot at the foot of the bed. He’d deliberately placed himself between her bed and the door. It seemed Eddie’s need to protect trumped his desire for a blast of nice, cold air.
Whitney heaved a frustrated sigh as Mick’s sleeping ba
g rustled again. “Are you okay?”
He punched his pillow. “This floor is killing my back!”
Whitney rolled onto her side and hissed over the side of the mattress. “I didn’t tell you to sleep on the floor.”
“So I can get in your bed?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You,” she emphasized loudly, “wanted to sleep in my room. I didn’t make you come in here.”
“Yeah, well,” Mick gruffly replied, “you’re the one who wanted us to repaint and redo the floors.”
“What?” Whitney’s ire skyrocketed. “Are you seriously blaming all that mess on me?”
“Children,” Eddie interjected, “no more bickering. It’s late. Now close your eyes, and go to sleep. Or else I’ll spank you both.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Mick answered in a singsong voice.
Eddie snorted, and a second later, Whitney heard the telltale whack-thump of a pillow slapping Mick’s legs. There was a minor scuffle that quickly quieted down. “Go to sleep,” Eddie ordered.
Shaking her head, she flopped onto her back and tried not to think about the way Eddie’s voice affected her. When he spoke like that, all powerful and strong, it made her belly tremble. He reminded her of the Doms in those books she loved so much. She replayed the way he spoke to Mick earlier in the bathroom. What would it feel like if Eddie took her like that, rough and commanding? Her thighs clenched. Could she give up control to him?
Yes. Hell yes.
Whitney considered their current predicament. It really was like something out of an erotic romance novel. Two devilishly sexy men sleeping on her floor. One bed. Sexual tension so thick it threatened to squeeze the air from her lungs.
So what to do?
This was one of those moments. She’d closed her eyes and jumped in with both feet when it came to the new job. Could she do the same now when it came to the two men she wanted most?
Heart racing, mouth dry, Whitney swallowed hard and rolled onto her right side. “So, um,” she faltered, unsure how to proceed, “I know the floor is uncomfortable and, uh, I know you both work on your feet all day, so, um, well, if you want, you can come up here with me.” She trembled with nervousness. “It’ll be a tight fit, but we can make it work.”
