The Heat is On (13 page)

Annabel e’s eyes widened at the familiar scrap of yel ow. No. That couldn’t be the same sheet she’d been using when…shit. Shit, where had she put the list? She searched her brain, final y remembering she’d tossed the fantasy list on the floor before she went to bed. The floor…on which Ryan had dropped his clothes before he’d crawled into bed with her.

“Yes to this question,” he said pleasantly, holding up the paper. “I’m Up For This. Are You? Wel , babe,
yes
. I am definitely up for it.” Horror climbed up her spine, mingling with the humiliation scorching her cheeks. Scrambling up the metal ladder at the edge of the pool, she hauled herself to her feet and shot a wet arm in his direction, trying to grab the list. Grinning, he held it out of her reach. “Finders keepers,” he said mockingly.

“What are you, five? Give it back. That’s personal property,” she snapped.

Rol ing his eyes, he obligingly handed her the list, which got soaked the second her wet hand clutched it.

The ink began to smear, and for some asinine reason, she fanned the sheet to stop the smearing.

What was the matter with her? A total stranger had just become privy to al her secret fantasies and she was trying to
preserve
the words? She ought to be burning the damn thing.

“Don’t worry,” Ryan said graciously. “I memorized it.”

She set her jaw. “You had no business reading that.”

“Maybe not, but I did, and now it’s branded into my memory.” He sighed. “It kept me up al night, you know. There I was, tossing and turning, wondering where we should go to take care of number four. A park? Out here in the pool? The back al ey of a bar?

Damn, the possibilities are endless, Annabel e.” Number four? What was he—her cheeks burned.

Sex in public (preferably a place without security
cameras).
Oh God. She couldn’t believe he’d actual y memorized it. The last time she’d been this embarrassed was back in the third grade, when her frenemy Joan poured water on Annabel e’s crotch and proceeded to tel the entire class she’d peed her pants.

“
We
are not going anywhere,” she said stiffly. “I, on the other hand, am leaving now.” Her back was ramrod straight as she stomped toward the chair where she’d dropped her towel.

She felt Ryan’s eyes on her as she dried off, and she knew he was ogling her tiny bikini. A sick part of her was even a little flattered, but the embarrassed part overruled it, pushing her to dry off faster and wrap the towel around herself.

“So is that a no?” Ryan asked, cocking his head casual y.

“Huh?”

“You won’t let me help you?” he clarified.

She frowned. “Help me do what?”

“Cross out al those dirty items on your dirty list.” He offered a charming smile. “Look, it’s obvious you can’t carry out some of those, uh, activities, alone. I’m just offering my services, babe.”

“Again with the babe?” She huffed out a breath. “I don’t want or need your help. That list was intended for someone else.”

He paused. “You’ve got a boyfriend?”

“Yes.” She hesitated. “No. Wel , maybe.”

“Which is it, yes, no or maybe?”

She fought a wave of exasperation. “Al of them, okay! I have a boyfriend, a sort of fiancé, but we’re on a break right now. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“A sort of fiancé?” he echoed.

“It’s a long story.” She grabbed her clothes from the chair, then slipped her wet feet into her flip-flops. “You are the pushiest guy I’ve ever met, you know that?” A thoughtful expression flitted over his face. “I’ve never been cal ed pushy before. Endearing, sure.

Charismatic. Drop-dead gorgeous. A real-life Michelangelo’s
David
. But never pushy.” A laugh slipped out of her throat before she could stop herself. “A real-life Michelangelo’s
David
? Wow.

You are so ful of yourself, I don’t even know what to do with that.”

“You could do me,” he said glibly.

Her thighs quivered. Just a little. Oh, for Pete’s sake. She needed to get away from this guy. He was too freaking tempting, and right now, she needed to avoid temptation. She’d left San Francisco to think about her relationship with Bryce, not jump into a fling with a guy who had major over-confidence issues.

“I won’t even dignify that with an answer,” she said, taking a step toward the lawn. “I’m leaving now.” He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She was halfway across the grass when he cal ed,

“Annabel e!”

Reluctantly, she turned. “Yeah?”

“If you change your mind, I’m in 2B.”
Taking turns was never their strong suit…

What She Needs

© 2011 Anne Rainey

Cape May, Book 3

Devon Mason and Con Walker are sexy, honorable, loving, and completely devoted. In other words, everything Tory looks for in a relationship. But what’s she supposed to buy her two lovers on V Day?

Chocolate? How average is that? Their little love triangle is anything but average!

When Con surprises her with a weekend in Cancun, just the three of them, Tory is al over it—until she realizes Con forgot to include Devon in the package. Now their little love triangle is suffering, thanks to a couple of hard-headed men who both want to be numero uno.

Con was content to let Devon take control at Christmas, but now it’s his turn. A weekend in Cancun seems the perfect place for a romantic getaway—

then Devon says he’s planning to surprise Tory with a trip to Aruba, and Con’s possessive instincts kick in.

He’d always been happy to share Tory with the guy he cares for like a brother. But the deeper Con fal s in love, the harder it is to keep from ripping Tory away from Devon.

Sooner or later something—or someone—is going to give.

Warning: This title contains lots of steamy, explicit
sex. Hot, jealous men in need of a strong, intelligent
woman. And a warm, loving ménage a trois
relationship.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
What She Needs:

“What the hel is wrong with you?”

Con looked up from his desk to see Devon striding into the room. By the looks of him, he was good and pissed. Damn. Con had known this was coming and he’d dreaded it. “If you’re here to bitch at me, then get to it. I’m busy.”

Devon crossed the room until he stood on the other side of the desk, fists clenched at his sides. “Bitch at you? You upset Tory, Con. You booked Cancun without talking to me. And unless I’m mistaken, you looked ready to land a fist in my face this morning when you came out of the bathroom. So, I repeat, what the hel is wrong?”

Con scrubbed his hands over his face. He was frustrated with Devon and pissed at himself for being a complete ass. The hel of it was, Devon had it right.

“I don’t know what to tel you, Dev.”

“Don’t give me the same bul shit you fed Tory this morning. I know you. You were jealous when you saw the two of us together on the bed. What I want to know is, why?”

Con stared back at his friend, his best friend.

They’d been through some serious shit together.

They’d both grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, but they’d worked their asses off and it’d paid off.

They were successful and in love. What could be better?
To have Tory all for myself.
No, that wasn’t right. What Devon and Con had with Tory was good. It was whole. Wasn’t it?

Shoving that nagging question aside, Con said,

“You’re right. I was jealous. I’l deal with it.” Devon frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Wil you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks as if you’d be as happy as a fucking clam if I were out of the picture.” Devon planted his hands on the desk and leaned close. “I love Tory as much as you. I’m not letting her go.”

For a moment, Con was too shocked to speak. He could count on one hand the amount of times Devon had gotten up in his face about something. Hel , the man was always so friggin’ calm it bordered on annoying. “Christ, relax, wil you? I never asked you to do anything. It was just a momentary lapse. I’m over it.”

Devon pushed away from the desk and took two steps backward. “You’re over it, huh? Then you won’t mind if I surprise Tory with a trip to Aruba for Valentine’s Day?”

Every muscle in Con’s body tensed. “What did you say?”

“The three of us in Aruba. I’m thinking of booking the trip today. In fact, maybe you should go ahead and cancel the trip to Cancun. Or go alone. Take your pick.”

Con shot to his feet and moved around the desk, a red haze of anger flooding his brain. “I already told you and Tory this morning. The flight is booked. The room is reserved. We’re going to Cancun.”

“And I told you it wasn’t your cal alone to make.

Tory isn’t yours. She’s ours. Get that through your thick skul .”

“So, what, now we’re going to make her choose between your trip and mine? That’s juvenile, damn it!”

“Al I know is that I’m damn tired of seeing that look on your face when it comes to her.”

Con threw up his hands and shouted, “What look?”

“You want her for yourself. It’s so obvious it’s not even funny.”

Jesus, he real y was transparent. “I never said that,” he hedged.

Devon pointed a finger at him. “You want me away from her,” he ground out. “Admit it, God damn you!” Fury had Con speaking without thinking. “Fine! I want her for myself! I see you with her and my blood boils. I see her touching you and it makes me want to hit something. Are you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”

Devon shook his head. “No, Con, I’m not happy.” Con cursed. He’d seen that look on his friend’s face only once before. They’d been nineteen, working dead-end jobs and trying to make ends meet. Con had come home to their shit apartment in a bad mood one night. Hel , he couldn’t even remember what had set it off. He’d taken it out on Devon, though. The final straw had been when Con had punched him in the face. He’d broken Devon’s nose. Devon had looked hurt—and not just physical y.

“Look, man, I’m sorry,” Con muttered. “I’l get my shit together, I promise.”

Devon didn’t look convinced. “You know this can’t work if we’re not both in it one hundred percent, right?”

Con shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. He was wrecking everything. Con Walker, always the screw-up. “I know, I know.”

“So, maybe we should do like we did at Christmas.” Con stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“We leave the decision to Tory.”

“You real y want her to choose between us? That’s not fair to Tory, and you know it.”

Devon shook his head and looked down at the floor. Con found himself holding his breath. When Devon’s gaze came back up to meet his, he could swear his eyes were a little too bright, a little too watery. “I’m not trying to get al sappy here.”

“But?”

“I care about you. Like a brother. That wil never change.”

“Same here, Dev.” Con stepped forward, a sense of foreboding skating down his spine. Devon put up a hand in warning, effectively stopping Con in his tracks.

“I know you, Con. You aren’t going to get over this.” Con started to argue, but Devon rode right over him.

“You want Tory and you want me gone. I can’t walk away. I can’t give her up—not unless it’s what
she
wants.”

How had things gone from great to shit so damn fast? This was a new record for him. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Then we need to figure out a way to make this work. For al of us.”

Con had racked his brain trying to think of some way to get over his growing possessiveness toward Tory—and he’d come up blank. “Got any suggestions? Because I’m fresh out of ideas here.” Devon quirked a brow. “Actual y, I do have a suggestion.”

For the first time in weeks, Con felt a spark of hope.

“I’m al ears. Spil .”

“Not yet.”

“What the hel do you mean,
not yet
?” Con cursed under his breath. “My life is spinning out of control and you want to play twenty questions?”

“I’l tel you and Tory at the same time. She should be kept in the loop here. We can’t make decisions like this without her.”

“Christ. Just give me a clue here. I’m drowning.”

“No, you can wait and hear my idea when Tory gets home. But, I can tel you that I’m not going to book the trip to Aruba.”

When Devon turned to leave, Con had the sinking feeling he’d lost something. Something he might never get back. “Devon,” Con cal ed out.

Without turning around, Devon asked, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Devon mumbled. Without another word, he left.

Con wasn’t sure how long he stood in the middle of the room, staring at the empty doorway. When he heard the front door open and close, it pul ed him out of his misery. He crossed the room and sat in the brown leather couch adjacent to the desk. Was he real y going to have to choose between the woman he loved and his best friend? No. Devon had figured something out. Whatever it was it would be a solution that would benefit al three of them. Devon was good at fixing things. Con was good at fucking up.

When they’d hatched their little plan to final y make Tory their own, it’d seemed so perfect. They’d both wanted her. Both knew, even then, that they were in love with her. At first it’d been bliss. Making love to her, sharing their nights wrapped around her. Waking up with her nestled between them. Even her snoring made him smile. There had been a few bumps in the road, but nothing big, nothing life-altering.