Polished (28 page)

“I’m paying. Don’t even mention it again,” Jack said with a wave of his hand.

“No.” Spencer protested with his hands up. “No handouts.”

Jack came over to the coffee table and sat on it, facing both of them. “Not a handout, Spence. Just making sure you two have everything you need. And you need to go to this wedding.”

“I want you to come with us,” Rory said. It was a hasty admission, but truly felt nonetheless. “You should be there with us.”

Spencer looked at her with confusion—or was that a look of betrayal in his eyes? “Baby, we can drive out there. We don’t have to fly.”

“I don’t care how we get there, but Jack should come too. We’re dating him, right? I mean, that’s what it feels like. I don’t want to hide. Not with Brice.
Especially
not with Brice.” She paused. “I mean…if you want to, Jack.”

“I’d love to go with you.” Jack placed his hands on both of their knees. “But if you’re not ready to be together in public, Spencer, I completely understand.” He looked at Rory and tried to reassure her. “Besides, I’m fine with keeping our relationship our own business.”

Spencer made a move to get up. Jack squeezed his knee and he remained seated.

“Whether you want me to go or not, I’m covering the cost of getting there, because I want to do it.” He squeezed Spencer’s knee tightly and narrowed his eyes. “I think you already know that I’m accustomed to getting what I want.”

He leaned in and gave them a kiss that swept across Spencer’s lips and ended on Rory’s. He gave her lip a playful tug with his teeth. “I’m going to take a shower and then Rory’s going to see what happens when you lose a race with me.”

Spencer flashed a mischievous grin. “What if I told you that I let you win?”

Jack started to undress, his ab muscles flexing involuntarily as he tugged his shirt over his head. “If that’s true then your punishment just got a whole lot worse, my man.” He snapped the shirt at him and it cracked loudly inches from Spencer’s crotch. “Get down on your knees and don’t move. Wait for me here until I get back.”

Spencer licked his lips and silently obeyed. Jack tossed him a look over his shoulder as he started down the hall. “Whether you let me win or not, I beat you back here, so I deserve the reward. And you get to suffer the punishment.” He grabbed Rory by the hand as he passed her, tossing his searing gaze at Spencer over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare touch yourself until I get back.”

She watched Spencer frown. “That’s going to be difficult while I’m stuck here thinking about what’s going on in the shower with you two.”

“We’ll leave the door open so you can hear us loud and clear.”

Spencer bowed his head with a slow, resolute shake. A sexy smirk simmered on his lips and he looked up at them under his thick lashes. “What happens when you get back?”

Jack held up Rory’s arm, gripping her wrist tight when she tried to hide the hives that had suddenly appeared with her father’s visit. “When I’m done giving Rory the stress relief she so obviously needs, I’ll let you begin your payback with my dick in your mouth.” He grinned devilishly.

Rory felt her cheeks get hot as she flushed with simultaneous embarrassment and arousal. Only Jack had that kind of effect on her.

“Sound good?” Jack asked.

Spencer nodded.

“You’re in trouble, because after I make her come I’m going to be raging for it.”

Spencer shook his head, an unshakable grin on his face. “Don’t I know it.”

* * *

Jack ran the water for them, having gotten the hang of their old pipes over the last few weeks. Rory still looked a bit nervous. That judgmental father of hers had really done a number on her confidence. “Rory,” he said softly to her. “Let me make it better.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine, Jack. Really.”

He reached forward and cupped her chin. “No, you’re not.”

“This is the first time we’ve been alone together.”

Of course she would be nervous about that. He cursed himself for reading her wrong. But the rash—he’d seen her break out under stress before and was still horrified that it had been because of him. “I think I know what you need and I’m the only one who knows how to give it to you.”

“Shouldn’t I be worried about Spencer? He’s out there all by himself.”

Jack frowned, his grip on her chin tightening slightly. “Rory, for this one time I forbid you to be concerned with anyone else but you.”

Her eyes got big with a look that seemed a lot like bewilderment and Jack realized she probably had no idea where to begin.

“You are always trying to make things perfect, polishing yourself up so that you’ll meet someone else’s expectations. Why can’t you see that the only measurement you need to live up to is your own?” He circled his thumb over her cheekbone. “Besides, if Spencer doesn’t want us to have this time together he has the ability to come in here and stop us. We all know the rules. He’s out there getting harder by the second, imagining what’s going on in here and enjoying the way it feels to be a good and proper submissive.” Jack dipped his head closer to hers with a knowing smile playing lightly on his lips. “You understand that, don’t you, princess?”

“Completely.”

Jack nodded and raked his hands down over her breasts to the hem of her tank top. She was braless underneath and her pert nipples stared up at him. He chucked the garment into the hamper in the corner. “You need me to spank you.” He didn’t need to ask. She nodded again. “You need me to make that sweet bottom of yours cherry red for all the bullshit guilt you feel. After that I’m going to wash you from head to toe and tuck you into the coziest sweats you own.”

“Spencer has the coziest sweats.”

He grinned. “I stand corrected. Spencer’s sweats it will be.” He sat down on the toilet and prompted her to bend over his knees.

The cool nylon of his running pants warmed quickly under her belly. The hard muscle of his legs tensed, bracing her like an anvil. He rubbed his flattened palm over her bare ass cheeks in a slow circle. So soft, so round. She lay still as a statue, obediently, as if she’d done this a million times. “Then we’ll all go to the movies or go bowling. Something normal people do.”

“Because we’re so normal, right?”

He raised his hand high and let the first crack of his palm rain down on her ass. “This is our normal. It’s the only normal that matters.”

She whimpered and bowed her head. “Another…please, sir.”

His palm left a rosy imprint in the center of her right cheek and the next swat stung her left cheek with equal intensity. Five nicely placed strikes seemed right, enough to take the edge off and help her feel exonerated. He’d spank her and relieve her of the need to feel responsible for everything and everyone. After the last great wallop his fingers were inside her wet pussy, stroking in and out of her heat as she whimpered and squirmed in response. “There now, that’s so much better, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. If you need this, you should have it.”

“I need it.”

“I know you do,” he said and added another finger, settling the heel of his palm against her flesh and levering all three into her needy cunt. He fucked her hard with those fingers; all kinds of sloppy wet sounds floated into the air. She came with a holler so sexy it curled his toes.

Then she took a deep breath and sat up. “Oh God, I feel so much better.”

He held his glistening hand to her face. “Coming like that is known to work wonders.” After kissing the tip of her nose with a sweet little peck he helped her to her feet. “Now I’ll get us cleaned up and proceed with the other business at hand.”

“Spencer?”

He nodded. “The other reason I can’t seem to make it back to my apartment.”

“We aren’t complaining,” she said, stepping into the shower.

“Neither am I.”

Chapter Twenty

They lay sprawled across the bed until well into the afternoon. Lazing about was so unlike Jack. Normally he’d be itching to do something with himself, with his thoughts, lest they start to linger. But lately he had been looking forward to lingering. The gentle sway of his mind as his thoughts wandered from Rory to Spencer and back again was like a waking dream. It was so ridiculously comfortable in his spot on the bed, with them nestled around him like kittens in a pile. He was really far gone if that was the first image that came to mind. Kittens, for fuck’s sake!

Jack didn’t run from the thought, though. He was finished with running from the doubts and the fear that swam in the depths of his heart. Spencer and Rory had him splayed wide open. His marathon of avoidance had left him tired and vulnerable and raw. But what had scared him the most—the risk of intimacy—now felt like a warm blanket he never wanted to leave behind. He tugged the covers over Rory’s bare shoulder and smoothed his hand over Spencer’s hip. What he wouldn’t do to call them both his. But they belonged to each other first and at the moment he could only hope there might be a place for him at their table.

When the postorgasmic haze started to lift and hunger pangs made an appearance in his gut, Jack finally had a reason to get up. “I want to take you both out tonight. Dinner. A little dancing maybe.”

Spencer yawned, stretching an arm over his head. “It’s Sunday. I have work tomorrow, Rory has school.” He gestured to her. She slept soundly.

“Yeah, but I’m thinking you can stay in the city with me for a few days.” Jack padded into the bathroom and grabbed the toothbrush he was now keeping in the holder mounted above their sink. “I promise to be a good host.”

Spencer followed him into the bathroom and grabbed his own toothbrush. “What, you don’t like it here?”

Jack swung around to face him. “Not what I’m saying at all. I love it here.”

“Relax, pretty boy,” Spencer said, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Jack let it ride, taking the remark for the compliment it was. He couldn’t hold back the lopsided smile that crept onto his face.

“I mean, I’m not accusing you of being ungrateful or anything,” Spencer continued.

“OK, now you’re asking for it.”

“Am I?” Spencer taunted him.

He took the bait, crushing Spencer against the sink with his entire body. “I could never be ungrateful for this.” He grabbed a big chunk of Spencer’s ass and enjoyed the harsh, ragged breath that Spencer breathed out. “But I can show you who it belongs to, after dinner…and, as I said, maybe a little dancing.”

“I don’t dance.”

“I’m sure Rory would dance with me.”

“I’m sure I would enjoy watching you two.” Spencer turned in the tight space Jack allowed between his body and the sink. He averted his eyes, finding something interesting about the pink-and-black fifties-style tile pattern on the floor. “I still don’t quite get what it’s all about though. I don’t get why watching you with her is so hot.” He stole a look at Jack and blinked, setting his jaw. “It should feel wrong. I should be jealous. But God help me, I don’t. I just don’t.”

“You don’t feel it’s wrong because it isn’t. I fucking cherish Rory. I think you know this. And I’ve never had anything close to the kind of connection I feel with you. It freaks me out a little sometimes, the way I need to be near you two, but it’s the truth and I’m trying to be man enough to admit it.” Jack looked at him, searching for something in his eyes as he guided Spencer’s chin around stare at him head-on. The water dripped steadily behind them as the seconds ticked by. Jack did what he could to keep the hope that was churning inside him in check as he waited for Spencer’s reaction.

Spencer opened his mouth, but he closed it before anything came out.

Jack reached around him and turned the faucet tighter, stopping the drip. “Well, I hope you’ll come home to the city with me tonight.”

“Yeah, sure.” He paused with a smile. “But I don’t dance.”

Jack tried to appreciate his humor, though it didn’t quite make up for the disappointment chilling his veins. Old Jack would have closed down. But inside he burned something fierce for Spencer, for his vulnerability and his need to be understood, for Spencer’s need to understand himself. Jack wanted more than anything to be the key that he needed.

“No dancing,” Jack said. “I got it.”

* * *

Everything about the club was familiar. The beat pumped heavy in Rory’s chest and the air was thick and muggy from the many bodies twisting against each other on the dance floor. Rory had not been dancing in years. Was that Spencer’s fault? He hated the noise of clubs, always claimed he had two left feet. Now, leaning against the bar, she was getting her old vibe back. Her hips swayed, quite unconsciously, and her breasts grazed the inside of her halter top. The gentle rasp of silk puckered her nipples. It had been on Jack’s insistence that she didn’t wear a bra.

As usual, the Chelsea crowd was a mixed bag. A few high rollers with bottle service were nestled into booths at the far end of the bar. Taller-than-life model types draped themselves conspicuously in their view. Several feet away, a hulking guy who looked like he only just got out of jail last night sneered at the crowd from over his beer bottle. And then there was the giggling crew of college girls on her other side. That was New York, a little of this and a little of that. She loved the city.

“You look like you’re ready for another drink,” Jack said to Spencer as he flagged down the lanky bartender with the trendy bed-head hairdo.

Rory kissed Spencer on the cheek. “Do you mind if I dance with Jack?”

“Why would I mind? Don’t you know how much I enjoy watching you?”

“Watching me…with Jack?”

“Yeah. I’ll stay here and enjoy the show.”

“You could join us.”

He shook his head. “No, baby.” Jack handed him another Long Island iced tea. He took it and patted her ass. “You go have fun.”

Jack leaned past her shoulder and whispered something in Spencer’s ear. Spencer smirked and licked his lips and then nodded just a bit. Then Jack took Rory’s hand and pulled her into the writhing swarm on the dance floor.

Rory thought about asking him what he’d said to Spencer, but stopped herself. They deserved their privacy. She and Spencer had their own connection, and it was only fair that she respect Spencer’s connection with Jack. Only one link in the circle had yet to be defined. How was
she
tied to Jack? Exactly how did she define the connection they had? How did Jack define it? She blinked a few times, the questions suddenly crowding in her head, drowning out the steady bass and electronic melodies of the club.