James, Elle Saint - Unbridled and Unridden [The Double Rider Men's Club 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (5 page)

Midnight found him finally turning into the Double Rider Men’s Club property. Ten minutes and he’d be relaxing at home. He hoped Boyd was awake to tell him the gist of the conversation at dinner. If she’d even shown up. There was the possibility she’d stood him up. But he hoped not.

He sincerely hated to leave the restaurant after the sparks he’d felt flying between them at the hotel concierge desk.

Deacon parked his car in the garage and hurried into the house. When he came into the living room of their permanently assigned cabin on the DRMC property, Boyd was kicked back on the sofa watching what looked like the Daytona 500 race on the large flat screen.

“Hey, you’re up. How did the dinner go? Did she show up? Did you ask her any questions, or just reschedule for another day?” God, he sounded like a needy schoolboy wanting all the details of a party he’d been left out of.

“Well.” Boyd set his beer down on the scarred end table and stood up. “She did show up. The dinner went well. As to questions versus rescheduling, I’d have to say both. We ended up having dinner together, and she invited me over to her apartment tomorrow night.”

Deacon was surprised at the streak of jealousy that ran through him at the implication he wasn’t invited over to Jessica’s. Ironic, since he coveted her for himself first without the idea that they’d share her. He should have thought of sharing her from the get-go. If only he knew she’d accept them both, he would move forward with her, but he was uncertain. And also uncertain he wanted to walk away from her. He was an idiot.

Perhaps Boyd saw a flash of anger in his face, because he quickly detailed the evening. “I asked a few innocuous questions about the nonexistent job you told her about. However, before any of that, there was an incident.”

“Incident? What kind of incident?” He put down his briefcase and shrugged off his coat. He placed it on the coat rack by the door, then seated himself across from Boyd on another recliner.

“Some drunk asshole tried to attack her in the entryway by the bar when she first came in. She was shaken up quite a bit at first.”

He almost stood up again. “What! Is she okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I pulled the bastard off of her. And then, well, she was very grateful. She invited me over to her place tomorrow night.”

Deacon suddenly saw it all. Boyd swooped in to save her, and now she had hero worship for him, and not Deacon. He tried not to sigh out loud. The Mercer account was looking more and more like a noose around his neck. Why hadn’t he stayed at the restaurant and told Mr. Mercer to get a life?

“Listen. I’ve reconsidered her invitation. I’ve already decided that I’m not going to go over there, knowing how you feel about her. Truth is, I made the date with the idea we’d both go over. But now I think you should show up alone.”

“No. You should go. Given the choice, I picked business over love. It’s my own damn fault.”

“Don’t be like that now, Deke. She asked about you first off when she sat down, but I have to admit to you that she kissed me.”

Deacon’s mouth fell open a bit. “Kissed? As in, on the lips?”

He nodded, but swiped his hand through the air as if the event wasn’t all that important. “She was just upset. The drunken bastard pinned her against the wall in a way that she couldn’t save herself. Honestly, it made her more mad than anything. So she was appreciative.” If she’d kissed Deacon, he would have thought it was vital in importance.

“What did you think of her?” Deacon watched Boyd carefully. He couldn’t hide his true feelings. Not from Deacon, anyway.

He and Boyd had known each other for a long time. Deacon knew in that next moment, by his hesitation to speak and facial expression alone, that Boyd had feelings for her, too. Even in the short time they’d spent together this evening, Boyd obviously liked her quite a bit. He just knew it.

Boyd’s sudden grin wasn’t sheepish exactly, but close. “You were right. She’s something special. I also can’t put my finger on it. Like her sexuality is in overloaded mode or something. She just exudes this…concentrated passion or something.”

“I know, right? And afterward you can’t explain, except to say she’s irresistible.”

He leaned forward in his chair and rested elbows on his knees before he spoke. “That is it exactly. So,
you
should go in my place tomorrow night. Have a talk with her and see what she says. I wouldn’t have even been there at all if you hadn’t set the date up. You should have an opportunity to speak to her just like I did. I’ll relinquish my time, but bring me back a cookie or two.”

“She’s making cookies, for you? Let me guess what one of the innocuous questions you asked her was. The potluck dinner question? Really?”

“It’s an icebreaker question. She liked it. And her answer was that she’d bake cookies. So bring me one.”

“I’ll think about it.” Deacon still wasn’t sure it was a good idea to pursue Jessica on his own. He didn’t feel like it was going to be a quick get-her-out-of-your-system sort of meeting the next time. He might express his feelings, but wasn’t sure how to add Boyd to the scenario without scaring her off.

Boyd drained his beer bottle. “Thing is, I’m supposed to close the auto shop tomorrow night. She said to come over at eight o’clock, but I’ll still be there at the shop, finishing up the biweekly payroll. You go. It’s only right.” He fished a business card out of his shirt pocket and handed it over. “Here’s her address and phone. And you better bring me a cookie, or I’ll kick your ass.”

“You can’t fool me. I know that you don’t
have
to do payroll.” Deacon stared at it for several seconds. “Besides, I can’t go over there if she’s expecting you. Not if she’s making you cookies for rescuing her.”

“Sure you can. Just say I had something come up at work, which is actually true, because I like to do the payroll. Besides, you wanted to apologize for ditching her the night before. This is your chance. Go for it. I mean that. Pretend you’re out of town.”

Deacon nodded. He wanted to go to her home more than anything else in the world. He even planned to leave his cell phone on quiet mode. If anyone needed him tomorrow night, they’d be
shit out of luck
.

Chapter Four

Jessica glanced at the clock for probably the fiftieth time in as many seconds and willed the clock’s second hand to move faster. Only a few minutes until eight, and she was all ready for Boyd. Drinks, followed by a few light appetizers if he was hungry, and then she’d make him an offer she hoped he wouldn’t refuse. Sex. With her. Tonight.

Dressed casually in a bright, floral wrap dress, she’d wanted to wear something easy to take off. Her heart sped up in her chest at the very thought that after tonight she’d no longer be a virgin. At least, if she could get Boyd to oblige. She wavered over even telling him about her virginal status until after they’d made love the first time. Would he even notice? She’d play that one by ear and hoped there wasn’t a negative backlash if he discovered it during the act.

Being turned down, or worse, abandoned mid fuck, might bring on another embarrassing flood of tears. She’d already cried on him in an uncharacteristic fashion the night before. She rarely allowed her emotions free rein. Boyd had been so sweet. She looked forward to seeing him again tonight to show him how much she appreciated what he’d done.

The prosecco was chilling in a bucket of ice on the kitchen counter, and out of sight of the living room. The wineglasses cooled in the fridge, waiting to be filled. She’d procured a few selections of condoms and put them in her bedroom should things progress that far as to need protection. Because although she was on the Pill for other reasons, Jessica wanted to practice
safe
first sex.

The doorbell chimed and echoed through her apartment. Jessica jumped a bit at the sound. Her whole body throbbed in anticipation. He was a little early. She took that as a good sign that he was anxious to be here tonight. Taking a deep breath and letting it out helped calm her before she moved.

She crossed to the front door, glancing side to side to ensure everything looked just right. Low lighting to set a sexy mood. Check. Music with a low, sensual beat floating across the room. Check. The scent of freshly baked cookies in the air. Check.

She opened the door prepared to escort Boyd in and convince him to have sex with her. Her eyes widened. Not Boyd after all.

Deacon stood at the entrance to her door. And he looked exceptionally fine. His look swept from her eyes to her legs and back again.

He grinned. “Miss Troy. Good to see you.”

“Mr. Wilder.” She glanced behind him wondering of Boyd was there, too. “Is Boyd with you?” She didn’t mean to seem disappointed, but hot damn, she wanted sex. Tonight. She thought fate had already stepped in and selected Boyd. But now Deacon was at her doorstep. Perhaps she needed to go back to her original plan. Even if fate fucked with her on the choice of her first man, she still wanted sex tonight. She had a schedule. Her time wasn’t out yet, but she didn’t want to wait until the last moment to accomplish this important task.

Deacon stepped closer. Framed in the door, Jessica found breathing suddenly difficult. “The thing is, he had to work late tonight. He called and had me cover for him. Besides, I wanted to express my sincere apology for standing you up last night, if you’ll let me.”

The scent of his cologne, which always had a major impact on her libido, drifted across the threshold. It sent her thoughts to a lurid place and made it very difficult to focus. “Last night?”

“Yes. At dinner? I was at the restaurant before you arrived, but then I had a client that needed me in Colorado Springs for his version of an emergency. In retrospect, I honestly wish I’d had dinner with you and Boyd instead. Will you accept my sincere apology for standing you up?”

Jessica gazed into his remorseful amber eyes and was mesmerized. She wanted him, too. How could she be in lust with two men? She guessed it was the same way she found both Brad Pitt and George Clooney attractive at the very same time, and occasionally in the same movie.

“Don’t be silly. You don’t have to apologize at all. I understand clients, believe me.” She opened the door a bit wider. “Please come in.”

He pulled his cowboy hat off his head, slipped a hand through his hair as if to finger comb it into an even more appealing style, and stepped one booted foot over the doorstep. Jessica didn’t move. He slid past her. The front lapel of his open jacket brushed across her breasts making them tingle. Good lord, she was hot to trot.

She lifted her gaze and met his stare. If she were bold, she’d reach out and kiss him. But she didn’t want to scare him off. She could wait. Anticipation would be better. She looked away first and closed the door. He hung his hat and coat on the bentwood rack. She then motioned him down the short hall to her living room.

“Have a seat.” Jessica gestured to the sofa. “Would you like something to drink?”

He walked to her sofa and turned. “Sure. Beer if you have it.”

“I do.”
And in addition, I truly want to have wild, wicked sex with you, Deacon Wilder
. “Be right back.”

Jessica snagged a beer bottle from the six-pack she’d purchased, and a wine cooler for herself. She’d save the prosecco for later. After the interlude in bed, she’d planned to celebrate. Now she’d be celebrating with a different man.
Scandalous
.

She twisted off the caps of both beverages, took a deep breath, and went back into the living room with the plan to seduce Deacon Wilder as soon as possible.

“Here you go.” She handed him the beer bottle and made a point to force him to caress her fingers to get it.

“Thank you.” He brushed his finger tips over the back of her hand before grabbing the bottle by the neck.

If he were nervous or sensed her secret plan to seduce him, it didn’t show in his face or demeanor. He seemed friendly and glad to be in her company, and grateful she wasn’t upset by his desertion the night before.

She sat down next to him and made a point to scoot closer. Their legs were practically touching. Her nipples tingled once more in utter desire. His fuck-me-hard-all-night-long cologne was wafting around her head and making what few inhibitions she had fall away from her like petals from a deserted bouquet in a gusty wind. Her clothes would also be falling away very soon if she had her way.

Fate
was
fucking with her. Deacon was the man she’d initially chosen to be her first lover. At least until Boyd had rescued her last night and given her the opportunity for her to get to know yet another choice. But Deacon was the one sitting in her parlor now. Boyd was at work. Had fate changed its fickle mind and sent her a different man? Was it very slutty to change her mind at the last minute?