Three of Hearts (11 page)

My hips rose from the bed against his body. “Need you. Please.”

“Yeah.” He freed one of his hands, holding both my wrists in the other, and snaked his hand down between us. “You ready, honey? Oh yeah . . .” He gave a huff. “So wet.”

“Dude. Here.” Lucas’s gruff voice penetrated the cloud of lust that surrounded us and as Ben’s hand slid out from between my legs, I realized he was handing him a condom.

Ben paused, looking at Lucas. Another wordless exchange. The air around us thickened.

“I’m holding her hands,” Ben said, in inexplicable obviousness. “Help me out here.”

At first I thought Ben meant Lucas could help hold me down, which didn’t seem necessary since I wasn’t going anywhere. Then I realized he meant Lucas could help him out with the condom. I wasn’t sure whether that seemed silly or hot. Either way, Lucas wasn’t into it. He shook his head, eyebrows drawn together. Ben made a short noise that sounded like “shit” and released my hands to take the condom from Lucas.

Ben suited up quickly. I kept my arms up, bending my elbows a bit and sliding my hands beneath my head to lift it so I could watch him. The sight of his hands on his cock thrilled me—big hands with long fingers, his cock also big and so very hard. His fingers rolled on the latex with the same grace they played guitar, and a wave of delicious heat pulsed through me.

I’d never be able to watch him play guitar again without remembering this moment.

I’d deal with that later.

Right now, I just wanted that heavy cock inside me. My chest tightened and my breathing went shallow. I watched Ben hold himself, stroking the head through my wetness in long, slow glides. I tipped my hips even more, inviting him in, and he lifted his head.

In the shadows, his eyes met mine with a gleam, and his lips quirked. “Oh yeah. Lucas was right. Your pussy is greedy.”

“I guess there’s not much point in denying it.” This elicited soft chuckles from both guys. “But what do you expect, when you do this to me? All this . . .”

Lucas stroked my hair back off my face. “We make you hot, huh, babe?”

“Oh yeah.” I turned my head to kiss his hand.

“Good.” There was no mistaking the deep satisfaction that vibrated in the single word.

I was still drowsy and drunk on sensation, feeling like I was floating, and as Ben began to push into my body, I lifted to help him.

He gave another low laugh that turned into a groan as he eased into me little by little. “Fuck yeah. Hot and tight. Fucking killing me, Haylee.”

My heart bumped and then expanded in my chest. Was it really me doing this to them? Making them feel so good, making them happy? It was like a dream, like it couldn’t be real. I never wanted it to end, even though my body was rushing forward, tingling and heating, tension building in my womb almost unbearably.

Senseless from it, I let it consume me. My eyes fell closed, head back on the pillow, Lucas’s hands stroking my hair and shoulders. Finally Ben was fully inside me, one arm sliding beneath my shoulders, the other tangling in my hair as his hips began to rock against me.

“Fuck. Fuck, this isn’t going to take long. Sorry, Haylee, sorry. Want you to come—”

I wanted that too, but couldn’t speak. I was very close, and just needed a bit more pressure . . . I shifted my hips once more, dug my heels into the mattress. There. Oh dear god,
there
. Ben’s cock stroking inside me created a delicious friction that built and built, and then with his pelvis against my clit I began to convulse in hard, hot waves. My hands held on to his shoulders, the muscles dense and firm.

“Coming!” I gasped, my soft cries filling the room, and Ben’s mouth turned in to the side of my neck.

His breathing harsh and ragged in my ear, his hips rocked faster and faster against me, fucking me into the mattress—and I loved it. I hooked my ankles around his back, wrapped my arms around his neck, and let him find his release. He went taut and motionless, a long, low groan ripped from his chest.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fucking hell. Haylee.”

Um, yeah. That was how I felt too. I stroked his damp, hot back and opened my mouth on his shoulder to kiss him, again and again.

“I hate fucking Christmas parties.” It was the next night, and Ben, Lucas, and I had just arrived at Brandon’s Green Hills home.

They each cast a sideways glance at me in the brightly light foyer of the mansion. “Yeah, babe, we get that.” Lucas smiled as a gorgeous blonde in a skintight black dress took his jacket.

Ben wasn’t quite so flirty with the coat check girl, and kept his focus on me. “Maybe someday you should tell us why that is.”

Yeah, maybe not.

This was the second Christmas we’d been together, and I’d never explained to them why I dreaded the holiday season so much. The first Christmas, we hadn’t been that close, and there hadn’t been much need to explain. They’d gone home to spend the holiday with their families, and I’d been vague about my own plans. This Christmas was harder. They knew I wasn’t close with my dad, and had each extended me invitations to go with them, which I’d politely declined. Then when Brandon had booked us for the gig at the Ryman, I hadn’t been able to hide my horror. They’d been taken aback, and I’d quickly tried to cover up my dismay and brush it off, but now they knew I hated Christmas.

The blonde took my coat, and we moved into the house. The party filled every room on the main floor of the spacious, elegant house.

We greeted our host, obtained drinks from the bar, and began to mingle. I glanced at the humongous Christmas tree in the corner of the great room, all sparkling with white lights and covered with decorations, then turned my back on it to smile at Brandon. I kept that smile in place as I sipped my drink, a glass of wine that better suited the little black dress I was wearing than a beer.

Probably an hour passed. Lucas and Ben and I separated as we talked to other people. Christmas music played in the background, which made me clench my jaw, and my face hurt from the effort to smile. My feet were also hurting in the spiky black heels I was wearing. Tension climbed the back of my neck and tightened my scalp, and I knew I was going to have a headache before the night was over.

I managed to escape the great room with its big Christmas tree, but every room in the house had been decorated with glittery garlands and poinsettias and wreaths. In fact, there was a second tree in the more formal living room, just as lavishly decorated.

They were only symbols, and they didn’t have to even mean anything. I kept telling myself that. They were pretty. I should be able to admire them just for the aesthetic pleasure of it. But they made my stomach tighten and my mouth go dry and then I had a flashback to that stage—all decorated with a similar glittery tree—and the Christmas song I’d been singing.

I had to close my eyes against it. It lasted only seconds, but it was enough to make my pulse rate spike; it felt like all the oxygen disappeared out of the room.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Could I not even be in a room with Christmas decorations without this happening? I’d managed to avoid it for so many years, I’d really hoped I wasn’t going to react like this. And yes, Christmas decorations are difficult to avoid, but I’d gotten very good at it over the years.

And anyway, it wasn’t as if Brandon was going to make us pick up instruments and start singing for the crowd.

Feeling a tiny bit dizzy, I looked around for Ben and/or Lucas. I didn’t want to embarrass myself by leaving the party early. If I did, they’d ask more questions. But if I was heading into a panic attack, I needed to get the hell out of there.

I excused myself from the group I was standing with and left the living room, wandered down the hall, peered into the great room, and spotted Ben on the far side of the room, near French doors that led outside. Fresh greens and twinkling white lights swagged the doors. He smiled down at a pretty brunette, his teeth white against his dark beard stubble, his smile so sexy.

I paused, my feet stuck to the floor as if someone had glued them there.

I blinked, watching him flirt with the girl.

I’d seen this a million times. I may have mentioned that Lucas and Ben have girls after them all the time? Well, it was no different tonight. And yet, it
was
different, because tonight I felt a stab in my heart.

Oh no no no
. I pressed a hand to my chest. Just because we’d had sex didn’t mean anything had changed between us. I’d never asked for any promises, and they hadn’t offered them. And wasn’t it enough without all that? The chance to experience—even if it was only temporary—the undivided attention of two men who made me feel feminine and sexier than I’d ever imagined possible?

So why did I find myself staring at Ben with another girl, feeling . . . Well, I didn’t really want to analyze what I was feeling, because none of it was good, and it was better to just push that all aside.

My heart still tapped out a triple-time rhythm against my breastbone, though, which was somewhat uncomfortable.

And then things got even worse. When I turned to leave that room, I came face-to-face with Cheyenne Ranger.

It was a weird moment. We knew each other, but I didn’t know if she knew that I’d been dating Doug. I mean, it was pretty common knowledge, but who knows what he’d told her, and I’d been away on the road for a while.

When her gaze skittered away from mine, though, I caught the flash in them and the faint color that washed into her face, and I knew that she knew, and I also knew that she knew
I
knew that she and Doug had been together. So it was altogether extremely uncomfortable.

My gaze went past her in case Doug was with her, and goddammit, he was. He was handing his jacket to the blonde at the front door.

Fucking hell.

The only way to avoid him was to duck back into the great room, where Ben and very possibly Lucas were otherwise occupied. Which meant I had to unstick my feet from the floor and face something I didn’t want to see no matter what I did.

My heart rate accelerated even more, and breathing became difficult as my lungs refused to expand, the lack of oxygen making my head go even lighter.

I was not having fun at this party.

“Hey, babe.”

An arm slid around my waist, and I looked up to see Lucas flashing me a smile. He pulled me into him with a squeeze that felt so damn good.

“Um. Hey.”

“Having fun?” The question was casual. Then his glance landed on Cheyenne. “Oh, hi, Cheyenne. Merry Christmas.”

Cheyenne smiled, showing off her cute dimples. “Merry Christmas to you too. Both of you.” Her gaze flicked to me and then back to Lucas. Doug approached from behind her, and I knew he’d seen me when his steps slowed.

Well, this was an awkward social moment. All I wanted to do was bury my face in Lucas’s neck, but that wasn’t appropriate. There’d been rumors before that we were a couple, and I certainly didn’t want to add fuel to that gossip fire. On the other hand, maybe that was better than being the woman tossed aside by Doug Brandt for Cheyenne freakin’ Ranger. Maybe a part of me wanted Doug to know I’d slept with Lucas, but the smart part of me knew I couldn’t go there. It wasn’t as if Lucas had never hugged me before. Doug probably wasn’t going to think anything of the fact that Lucas had his arm around me.

It was amazing how many thoughts could pass through your head in a matter of seconds.

I fixed my eyes on Doug without smiling.

His eyes met mine, then shifted sideways. “Haylee. How was the tour?”

I lifted my eyebrows, aware of all the people around; a few of them were watching us. I tried to suck in a deep breath, fighting for control of my stupid body. Since my hands were shaking, I grabbed onto Lucas’s arm where it circled my waist.

I did not want to let Doug off the hook, but I also didn’t want to create a scene, because it would for sure be all over the internet and in the papers in the morning if I did.

“The tour was awesome.” I tried to sound normal. I think my voice might have come out higher pitched than usual, but I could hardly hear myself over the buzzing in my ears.

Lucas bent his head and whispered to me, under the pretense of nuzzling my hair. “Got your back, babe. However you want to play this.”