Polished (14 page)

With a flash of muscle against soft cotton, Spencer whipped her off the mattress and pressed her back against the upholstered headboard. Her legs hung in the crook of his elbows, her wrists draped around his neck so delicately, the whisper of them on his skin made him want to take all of her at once. She was his. His! His! His!

He fucked her. Fucked her hard. Fucked her for the real and raw need that was thundering in his chest. Rory gasped and cooed and smiled back at him with gritted teeth as she came in a rush over his throbbing cock. He’d been scared shitless about the stirring hunger Jack drove into his gut. In Rory’s arms, her sweet kisses showering his face, he could almost forget about the confusion tugging at his very core.

Now it was a new day and she sat up and blinked at him in the early sun, hair tousled and never looking more beautiful. “Good morning,” she said.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Spencer held up the two pills for her to take. She obliged happily, smiling that lopsided smile of a guilty conscience. “I really shouldn’t have had so much to drink.”

Spencer grinned. “Baby, when are you going to admit you’re a lightweight and leave the heavy drinking to the men?”

She frowned, and he grinned wider. So she punched him playfully in the arm, because she could tell he was making a joke. Spencer had more respect for Rory than any other person he’d ever met. The joke was just his way.

“Well, then I guess you can draw this fair lady a bath in that gorgeous tub we have in there.” She swung her legs off the side of the bed and steadied them on the floor. “Did you see that thing? It looks like something from a bed-and-breakfast. A real soaking tub. Must be two feet deep.”

Spencer nodded and dutifully went to run the water. He’d do anything she asked, anything to make her smile. And a thought so poisonous clouded his head, it made him stop midstride. He could never hurt her, yet his secret cravings were like a knife at both of their necks, not just his. What the fuck was he doing, imagining what it would be like to have Jack’s cock sliding into his ass while he made love to the woman he loved? How could he even dare to think it could happen? For one, it would tear her heart out to know the truth. He was sure of it.

When the water was ready, he held her hand for support while she stepped in. “Ahhhh…that is nice.”

“Good for hangovers,” he said, grabbing her brush and deciding on a whim to run it though her long brown hair. From her crown to the end, the only way he knew how. It caught on a few tangles, so he lightened his touch, cursing to himself and massaging where the hair had pulled.

“You spoil me.”

“You deserve it.”

He brushed her hair slowly, quietly, as she lay loosely in the tub, her head tipped back and eyes closed. He watched her chest rise and fall under the water, nipples perked to perfection as she relaxed, letting the stress of the previous week simply evaporate.

A sudden knocking drew both of their attentions toward the bedroom. Spencer placed a swift peck on her forehead. “Be right back.” She nodded and he went to see what Jack wanted.

“Thought we’d get an early run out on my boat and spend the afternoon on this little island I know. Later we can head to the club for the opening ceremonies of the regatta.” Jack licked his lips. Spencer wondered if it was an unconscious tic or an intentional maneuver. Either way it made Spencer’s mouth wet. “It’s a nice secluded little blip in the sound. I think it’s government land, but no one ever bothers me there.”

Spencer took a moment to answer. “Sure, just give us a few minutes.”

Jack shifted his weight and suddenly didn’t seem to know where to put his eyes. “How’s Rory this morning?”

“Fine. Great actually,” Rory answered, with a towel pulled tight around her body. She peeked over Spencer’s shoulder, smiling at both of them. “What’s this I hear about going out on your boat? That sounds awesome.”

“OK, good. I’ll get her ready. A light breakfast is in the kitchen for you. Just some muffins and fruit. Best to keep it simple before heading out for the first time.”

“Hey man, you said she was perfectly safe.”

“Oh she’s safe. But the wind has kicked up some swells out there. Just sayin’.”

Spencer took a deep breath and Rory squeezed his hand. “Breakfast and then we’ll meet you out on the dock.”

Jack nodded. He leaned toward her and placed a swift peck on her cheek, right over Spencer’s shoulder. “Glad you’re okay.”

Rory placed her hand on Spencer’s back and he felt it rest there like she needed to reassure him, or possibly herself. “I’m fine,” she said, in a little girl’s voice, soft and fleeting. Something thick and unyielding burned inside Spencer’s throat. The lump resisted reason and wouldn’t just go away while he stood there between his girl and his fantasy, so he tried to clear it with a choking kind of cough.

“See you guys in a few.” Jack tapped the door frame and headed off down the hall.

Spencer swigged the coffee fast, burning his tongue a bit but hardly feeling it. He decided against the muffin Rory pushed toward him as he steeled himself for the trip out into the Long Island Sound.

“You know we don’t have to go,” Rory said with an arched brow and a soft smile. “We could take advantage of having the house to ourselves and wait for Jack to come back.”

It was when she did things like that that he loved her the most. “I know you want to go, babe. I do too. Time to face my fears.” He slid off the counter stool and reached for her hand. “I’m a New Yorker. I’m not going to let some punk-ass ocean get the best of me.”

Rory swatted him on the butt and grabbed a handful while she was there. “You tell ’em.”

He hooked his arm around her shoulder and brought her close, planting a solid kiss on her temple. She was his rock. He was smart enough to know that by now. Every morning, waking up to those wide brown eyes was a blessing. She deserved to know he meant to do it for the rest of his life. Soon, if he could only get his act together and figure out what to do with that secret itch he couldn’t seem to scratch.

She took a hairband from her wrist and swung her wavy locks into a ponytail as they sauntered down toward the dock. Her neck begged for a kiss and he didn’t deny himself the pleasure. Her bare shoulders curled with ticklish delight as she giggled softly. The bikini she wore, with a pair of white terry beach shorts, was doing wonders for his trepidation. All he’d have to do was focus on her the whole time and everything would be just fine.

At the dock, Jack was waiting for them with a pair of inflatable life vests, the kind the pros wear. “Here, put these on.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Rory said, mocking him with a salute.

“Listen, young lady, don’t give me any trouble. Safety first.” Jack returned her jibe with a wide grin and a wagging finger. He winked and she obliged. As for Spencer, no one had to ask him twice.

“Sure this will work if I fall in?” Spencer asked, inspecting the slim, packed vest with a D-ring in the middle.

“Soon as you hit the water it inflates.” Jack tugged on the ring. “And if things get rough, I’ll be sure to buckle you up so there’s no chance of you taking a header over the side.”

Spencer felt the tug from his chest when Jack yanked on him. It was meant to be a plucky remark, nothing more, but the hairs on the back of Spencer’s neck stood at attention anyway.

Jack gave instructions and the two of them listened intently. He went about describing the rules of balance and some basic tips for what to do if they hit a big swell. It all added up to a knot in Spencer’s stomach. He took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s get out there already, before I change my mind.”

Jack smiled and nodded once, gripping him on the shoulder. Not an attaboy slap, but a soft squeeze. “We got through a whole lot worse together. This is going to be fun.”

Spencer’s stomach knotted a bit tighter, but not because of the way the boat lolled as he stepped on board. He cursed the electric bite Jack’s touch left on his shoulder. Staring back toward land didn’t help it go away either.

“Babe?” Rory said, caressing his knee, worry in her eyes.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Rory looked over at Jack and then back at him. “You know, I totally remember what we almost did last night.”

A jolt of surprise that tingled more than it should have shot through Spencer. With all the fear and confusion brewing inside him, the thought of what almost happened threatened to put his emotions on overload. And if there was anything he hated, it was feeling out of control in that area.

He smiled sheepishly, feigning ignorance. “What exactly did we almost do last night?”

She slipped her fingers around his and leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. “OK, I chickened out. But you were into it. Don’t deny it.”

He glanced over at Jack, who was busy with cranking the winch, and focused on the open water ahead of them. Spencer kept his voice low. “Why did you chicken out?”

“I wasn’t sure…”

“Sure about what?”

“Whether it would change things between us.”

Spencer took her cheek into the palm of his hand. “Nothing will change things between us.” He meant it. As the words came out of his mouth he believed them completely. A soft nod from Rory made him say it again. “Nothing.”

“Did Jack say anything to you?” she asked.

“I told him not to bring it up around you, that you might be embarrassed.”

Rory shot him a look that told him she knew what a load of bull that really was.

“OK, so maybe I was a little freaked out too.”

“It was crazy.” Rory giggled softly.

He toyed with the string on her bikini top. “I always knew there was a wildcat behind that innocent smile.”

“Do you still want to?”

“Do you?”

Spencer tried to read the look on her face. This had to be her decision—he sure didn’t want it to be his.

When Jack called out his name, he almost jumped out of his skin. “Yeah?”

“You want to work the rudder?”

Spencer shrugged. “Hey, man, I wouldn’t know a rudder from an udder.”

Jack smiled an easy smile that looked both out of place and comfortable on his sharp features. “It’s easy.” Jack was at Spencer’s side before he could refuse. He took the handle and demonstrated. “Just move it to the left or the right when I tell you.” He laughed. “I know how you love following my directions.”

Spencer scoffed. “Gimme that. I can handle it.”

“I know you can, dude.” He winked at him. Nothing more than a fucking wink, and it made Spencer want to burst.

* * *

Rory watched the two of them play off each other. The energy bounced back and forth between them like a Ping-Pong ball as Jack barked orders about how to handle the rudder. Spencer followed every instruction obediently, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in concentration. Jack had taken on the role of a strong leader, Spencer his willing student. There was undeniable energy—sexual tension, even—but neither seemed to know what to do with it. Rory could count herself as number three in the confusion. How do you let your boyfriend know that you’re OK with him experimenting with another man?

She watched them and let the possibilities play out in her head as they swept along the soft swells of Long Island Sound on their way to Jack’s special island. Every image brought a new rush she couldn’t deny. Spencer may be curious, but Rory had a healthy curiosity of her own. The thought of her boyfriend with another man made her blood run hot—in a good way. A secret smile played on her lips. Somehow she needed to open the door, to put the pieces in place. Spencer didn’t deserve to feel like he had to hide from her, and she had to find a way to make sure he knew it.

The little island’s small, nondescript beach was in sight, along with a shabby-looking dock. Jack gave instructions to hold the rudder steady as they glided toward it. He called to Rory to place herself at the bow of the boat as they made their way into the surf. Closer still, he called for Spencer to toss him the length of rope, with which he intended to tie off on the dock when they got close enough. Jack set the fenders in place just before popping off the deck and onto the dock.

They were all standing on the sodden wood planks when Rory made an observation: “Jack, you seem to like being in charge.”

He grinned. “Why do you say that?”

“You just looked really comfortable giving orders.”

Jack gave her a quizzical look. Her comment stopped him short, halfway along the dock. He was reading her words—searching—she was sure of it. She decided she would make it easier for him. “You’re a Dom, aren’t you, Jack?”

“A what?” Spencer asked, hobbling up in back of them.

“A Dominant,” Rory explained to Spencer. “Like when we like to role-play that you’re a cop and I’ve been arrested.” She looked right at Jack. “Only
he
isn’t playing.”

“Rory…” Jack started.

She shoved her hands in her front pockets to keep them from trembling. Her head dipped and she watched a sand crab scurry away from her foot. There was a clear and definite line presenting itself during that moment. It was shiny and thin like trip wire, and oh so scary. Sucking in her bottom lip, she stepped closer and lifted her eyes to Jack’s, hoping her voice would be loud enough for him to hear. “Show us.”

The way his eyes darkened was unmistakable. His jaw locked, his neck muscles flexing with pent-up tension.

“Rory likes to get inside people’s heads,” Spencer said with a slight tone of apology in his voice. “Side effect of her psych training.”

Jack shook his head, barely slowing his stride toward the beach. “Sorry, I don’t do parlor tricks. Besides, you probably have the wrong idea. Dog collars and leather harnesses aren’t my thing.”

Rory didn’t really know what she had expected. The only Dominant/submissive behavior she’d ever witnessed was in the pages of a textbook and a few paperbacks she kept in her night table. “Please, show us.”

Jack stopped walking. “Are you sure?”

“Maybe it sounds crazy, but I want to know what it’s like. I mean I read about this stuff…” Her cheeks reddened as she remembered the pile of erotica Jack had stacked so neatly next to their futon. “I’ll bet you’re amazing.”