Party of Three: A H.O.T. Cops Novel (3 page)

“I know that, but … I guess I wanted to make a grand gesture, something big. And so … I thought about your fantasy.”

Yes, it had been vague, but she’d told him as much about it as she could that night—it
was
about having two cocks inside her at once. It was about being caressed by two pairs of male hands, having her body kissed by two men’s mouths. It wasn’t about control—keeping it or giving it away. But it
was
about … maybe being a little overwhelmed. In a good way. With masculine power. With sex itself.

“And I want to make it come true,” he continued. “I want to give you that. I want you overcome with pleasure. I want you to have orgasm after orgasm in a way I could never make happen on my own.”

Mira blew out her breath, poleaxed by the very idea. Strange how fear and stark desire could mix. And they both swirled inside her now as she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that he was offering this to her. Not as a fantasy, but as reality. Even though they weren’t
those
kind of people. They were mainstream, middle-of-the-road; they were dependable and responsible. Yes, a little dirty talk in the bedroom—but that was about as kinky as it got and she’d always been perfectly pleased by what they shared. “We have great sex,” she felt the need to remind him. “Mostly, I mean.” Maybe not so much lately, but back when things had been good between them, the sex had, too.

“I know we do,” he told her, now cupping her cheek in his palm. “But I want this weekend to be … something beyond normal for us, beyond great. I want it to be something new, something extreme, something that’ll bring you more pleasure than you can even imagine.”

Okay. It was beginning to sink in that this was really happening, that he was really planning on this. But he didn’t know her as well as he thought if he didn’t realize … “Ethan, I can’t have sex with just anybody. I mean, you know I haven’t been with many guys.” She’d always been in serious relationships. She’d never had a one-night stand in her life. And she’d never been intimate with anyone she hadn’t gotten to know first. For her, good sex was about trust, about knowing the person you were with. “So I can’t imagine who on earth I’d really want us to …”

“Rogan,” he said simply—and that was when another tremor shook her world.

Oh Lord. Rogan Wolfe was … well, God, what
wasn’t
he? Ex-boyfriend, tough cop, bad boy to the bone—and the man who had taught her to love sex. She’d never told Ethan that part about her relationship with Rogan, but while before him she’d liked sex just fine,
with
him she’d found her true sexual being, and she’d loved how much he’d drawn that out of her. In fact, she credited her good sex life with Ethan—well, before its recent decline—in part to her time with Rogan.

Still, she was stunned to hear this was who Ethan had in mind. “You don’t even
like
Rogan,” she pointed out.

At this, though, her boyfriend just shrugged. “We get along all right.”

The fact was, Ethan and Rogan went back a long way, all the way to police academy and the Hostage Ops Team on which they’d been placed and where they’d trained together, both having shown a particular aptitude for handling hostage situations and other similar crises. And she’d always been keenly aware that, in some aspects, the three of them were closely, weirdly intertwined.

She’d met Rogan when he’d joined the Charlevoix Police Force when she’d been in her mid-twenties. She hadn’t even known Ethan yet, but he and Rogan had worked together on the force and even now they still played on the same summer softball team.

And what had led Rogan to charming Charlevoix on Lake Michigan in the first place? He’d been looking for a new position and, after reaching out to the other H.O.T. members, who’d kept in touch over the years, Ethan had let him know there was an opening there.

So she’d have never even met or dated Rogan if not for Ethan’s involvement in bringing him to town. And maybe she’d have never met Ethan, either—even though they’d both been born and raised in the Charlevoix area—if she hadn’t started coming to Rogan’s softball games when she’d been dating him. It was funny how much of her world had been shaped by the actions of these two men.

“Getting along isn’t the same as liking,” she pointed out to Ethan. Because despite the things they had in common, Rogan and Ethan were very different. Almost like night and day in ways. And despite them both being part of a tight-knit group of old friends who got together once or twice a year, apart from the H.O.T. affiliation, they weren’t at all close. They might drink a beer together with the rest of the team after a game, but otherwise they didn’t socialize with each other.

And so the fact that Ethan was suggesting bringing Rogan into their relationship in such a radical way felt at once ironic and … almost fitting. Almost—dare she think?—like a thing that made sense on some level, a thing that was supposed to happen.

“I can like him fine for a weekend,” he told her. “And he was the only guy I know who I thought you’d be comfortable with. For this.”

This.
The mere word brought her back to the matter at hand, the threesome he’d suggested—and she swallowed sharply, the leftover taste of wine in her mouth now turning a bit stale. The fact was, if Ethan had gone so far as to select Rogan, her ex, to join them in his threesome plan, it meant that he’d really, seriously thought this through. It wasn’t some off-the-cuff idea he’d concocted a few days ago. And it meant … “Um, does Rogan … know about this? I mean …”

“Of course he knows. He’s on his way here right now.”

“Holy crap,” she whispered. Because this made it … real.
Really
real.

And he was already on his way? When there was so much to consider, so many questions to ask?

“Ethan,” she began, “what if … what if you would think of me differently afterward? I mean, how could you
not
think of me differently?” Because a woman who could do that, who could be with two men at once … well, Mira had never seen herself as that woman. Even after her dream and the hazy fantasies. Doing it wasn’t the same as dreaming it. If she did this, she would be changed, forever. She
would
be different, a different person, at least in ways, than she was now.

“I won’t,” he told her. Again, as always with Ethan, all confidence. And it assured her once more that he really
had
thought this through, but …

“What if you’re wrong? What if I do this and … and it kills something between us? What if somewhere deep down inside you, it … makes you think I’m slutty? In some ugly way. What if you can’t help it? I mean, once we do this, we can’t take it back.”

He narrowed his blue gaze on hers and she realized that … Lord, the fear and desire from a few minutes ago both ran deeper now, fuller. She could almost feel the two conflicting emotions consuming her at once. Was she really considering doing this?
Could
she? And not just from a morality standpoint, but … could she overcome her trepidation enough to pull it off? To be
that
sexual?
That
self-assured? When deep inside she was scared to death?

“Look, honey,” he said, his voice going tender, “I understand what you’re saying. But I’ve thought about this a lot. I thought about it for weeks. And the fact is … it’ll be a gift
you’re
giving
me
as much as one
I’m
giving
you
.”

She blinked, and her voice came out light, high-pitched. “Huh?”

A solemn sigh left him as his eyes sparkled darkly on her at the precise moment the sun shifted in the sky just enough to immerse them in shade. “The fact is, the more I thought about it, the more it excited me. The more I realized that
I
want it, too.” His voice went deeper then. “I want to see you that way. With another man. And with both of us at once.” Her skin flushed with warmth at his words. “And once we share that, it’ll bring us even closer.”

Mira’s heartbeat pulsed all through her body. Her cheeks, fingers, breasts, tingled with odd heat. She hadn’t thought about it like that—that it could somehow pull the two of them closer together, that it could bond them in a whole new way.

And somehow … somehow
that
began to make it feel … possible. Like a thing she could maybe, really do.

Just then, he leaned over her, the heat of his body warming hers, his palm curving around her neck as he whispered deeply in her ear, “Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

She bit her lip, her pussy pulsing against her blue jeans. Did she? Did she want this? “M-maybe,” she heard herself stutter. “I … I think,” she went on. Then, “Yes.
Yes
.”

She’d heard herself say it. So it must be true.

Chapter 2

E
than paused from where he stood cleaning the grill to peer down through the trees to the dock. Mira sat there, her back to him, knees drawn up in front of her, looking out on the water. The long brown hair he loved spilled down her slender back in natural waves, and damn, even from behind she was gorgeous. One glimpse reminded him that he was a lucky man.

He wished he could read her thoughts. But hell—maybe it was his own fault if he couldn’t. Because it was true that he’d been too absorbed in his work lately and had started taking her for granted. He hadn’t been paying adequate attention to her or spending nearly enough time with her. So if he didn’t feel quite as in tune with her as he once had, he had no one to blame but himself.

It embarrassed him to remember that it had taken his mother to point out the problem to him. It had been on Easter at a big family gathering at his parents’ house. Mira had been busy playing with his nieces and nephews, hiding Easter eggs, helping the younger ones find them—and he’d watched it all from inside the house, where he’d retreated to block out the noise while he spoke to another attorney on his BlackBerry about a trial starting the next morning.

It had seemed important—it
was
important. But when he’d approached Mira later, after the eggs had all been found and she was helping his mom and sisters in the kitchen, she’d seemed distant, leaving him irritated—something that had begun to feel like a pattern in their relationship lately.

“It’s only because she misses you,” his mother had said, her voice low as she came up behind him after Mira walked away.

He’d turned to look at her. “Huh?”

“You used to treat her like a princess.”

He’d been pretty dumbfounded and even a little annoyed that his mom was sticking her nose into this. “I’m still just as crazy about her,” he pointed out, feeling defensive. “But other things matter, too. I work my fingers to the bone, you know.”

His mom had simply tilted her head, giving him a long, hard look. It had reminded him of times when he was a kid, times he’d been in know-it-all mode and she’d been getting ready to quietly, calmly set him straight. “She never asked you to.”

He didn’t get her point, though. “She never asked me to what?”

“To work your fingers to the bone. To change your career. And I’m proud of you for following your heart and working so hard—I really am. But I see it from her side, too. She used to have a man who made her feel special. And I’m not sure she has that anymore.”

And when he hadn’t answered, just standing there trying to absorb her words, she added softly, “You should be careful, son. Remember, balance in all things. And right now, I’m not sure you have that. If you love her and don’t want to lose her, you might want to rethink your priorities.”

Until that moment, he’d never really thought about the possibility of losing Mira. They were
that
solid. Or at least he’d thought they were until his mom had piped up and made him start wondering.

He labored damn hard, doing work that mattered to people and affected their lives, and he wanted to be appreciated for that. And if he and Mira had been growing apart lately … well, maybe he’d turned a blind eye, just hoping she would adjust to the changes that had taken place since he’d traded in his badge for a briefcase. But the idea of losing her … he supposed that had woken him up in a way nothing else could.

And now he was trying to fix what he’d messed up. Trying to fix it in a big way she’d never forget.

But had he gone too far?

Maybe. Maybe this little surprise birthday party for three he’d planned was too much.

But when the idea had hit him, and when he’d thought through it and realized he seriously wanted to bring it to fruition for her, for them both … well, he’d just had a feeling that if he suggested it more gently, at home, she’d say no—and maybe not truly mean it. That she’d be too shy to confess she really wanted a threesome, or, as she’d said a few minutes ago, she’d worry that it would change his feelings for her.

And so he’d decided to introduce it like
this
, pushing it on her. Pushing her into the middle of something that was already set in motion. At the time, it had seemed like a perfect birthday present for his perfect woman, so he’d barreled full steam ahead.

And now she sat down there on the dock, thinking … God knew what. Did it seem like he didn’t cherish her enough if he was offering to share her? Did she get that he honestly felt such an intimate experience could only draw them closer? Was it a fantasy that she wanted to keep
only
as a fantasy?

And had he orchestrated this whole thing solely for her? Or was it just as much for him? He knew it was
partially
for him—as he’d told her, the more he’d visualized it, the more excited he’d become. But had that led him to be selfish here? Because the truth was, he
really
wanted this. Bad.

And did that make him weird—to want to see her with someone else?

It was simply that … when they were together, he could see her, but he couldn’t
always
focus on her completely since he was
in
it, feeling things, too. This way, there would be moments when he could draw back a bit, simply in order to take in her every response, and he liked the idea that she’d be aware that he was there watching, that those responses would be as much for him as for Rogan.