Understood (8 page)

When her good friend, Luke Forsythe, overhears her talking to their friend Shelly about what she really wants, he’s stunned. And very turned on. Gracie thinks there isn’t a man alive who can satisfy her in bed. Luke aims to prove her wrong.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Overheard
.

She stretched and climbed lazily out of bed. Luke’s flannel shirt lay in a heap on the floor, and she reached for it. She slipped it on, leaving it unbuttoned down the front. His scent surrounded her, and she wrapped the shirt tighter around her.

She padded barefoot out of the bedroom toward the kitchen, a wicked smile on her face. She’d tease him with a few glimpses of those nipple rings he loved so much. By the time breakfast was done, he’d be a walking hard-on.

She rounded the corner, letting her shirt gape a bit wider and let out a squeak of surprise. She yanked her shirt closed and stared at Wes who was standing in the kitchen leaning against the countertop.

She started to back up but Wes closed the distance between them.

“I-I didn’t know you were here,” she sputtered.

She gripped her shirt even tighter, sure her face was as red as a stoplight. To her surprise, Luke stood by the stove, his expression one of interest as he watched her.

Wes stopped in front of her and reached down for her hand. He tugged her forward into the kitchen.

“Come on now, Gracie,” he drawled. “You’ve seen me naked. Time for me to return the favor.”

She shivered slightly under his intense stare. “Is this a practical joke or something?”

Wes ran his hand up the lapel of her shirt, nudging it slightly aside until her breasts peeked around the edge.

“No joke. We’ve been friends a long time, Gracie. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I don’t think you are. I think you’re as turned on as I am right now.”

She cocked her head in confusion and shot Luke a panicked look.

“Quit dicking with her,” Luke said.

“You want a threesome,” Wes said. “Luke and I want to give you one.”

Her mouth rounded to an O and her eyes widened. Wes’ fingers brushed across her nipples, flicking lightly at the rings.

She looked back over at Luke again to see him staring intently at her.

“If you don’t want this, just say so,” Luke said quietly. “We don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

“Wow,” she whispered. “I mean, I don’t know what else to say. You’re okay with this?” she asked Luke.

He smiled. “Who do you think invited Wes?”

“Holy shit.” She shook her head, unsure of whether or not she was dreaming. A threesome. Not with strangers. With two men she trusted implicitly. Two men who cared for her and would make it good. Not much to think about there.

“What do you say, Gracie?” Wes murmured.

She nodded. “Okay.”

Wes nudged her chin up with his knuckle, and she looked into his warm brown eyes.

“I don’t want things to be awkward for us. We’ve been friends too long for that.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. His goatee rubbed softly on her chin. Bubbles of excitement took flight in her chest. She relaxed against him, and he deepened the kiss.

Her shirt parted as his hands slid underneath the material and cupped her breasts. His thumbs worked over her nipples, and his hands moved down her skin.

Shedding her inhibitions, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, letting her tongue roam playfully over his.

It was a different experience kissing Wes. He was more gentle than Luke but every bit as sensual. If she gave herself time to analyze the situation, she’d likely retreat in mortification, but it felt right.

Wes wrapped his hands around her waist and hoisted her upward until she sat on the countertop.

“Much better,” he murmured.

Her breasts were now level with his mouth, and he took advantage. His tongue rubbed lightly over one nipple. It puckered and her muscles tightened in response.

He cupped her breasts with both hands and held them up for his mouth to devour.

“I never knew you had such a wild side, Gracie. I like it. The rings are hot.”

She moaned as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, his tongue toying with the ring.

“She needs to eat,” Luke interjected.

Wes slowly pulled away, and it was all Gracie could do not to insist she wasn’t hungry so they’d take her to bed. Her stomach contradicted her by rumbling.

Wes lifted her down as Luke set a plate on the table for her. She walked unsteadily to her chair and sank down into it. She pulled her shirt tight around her, suddenly giving up the idea of making Luke crazy. He’d completely turned the tables on her.

The two men sat down on either side of her and proceeded to polish off their plates of food. She managed to nibble down a small amount, but her stomach was in full somersault mode, and she knew she wouldn’t do much justice to her food.

“If you’re done picking at that, I know something we could be doing that’s a whole lot more fun,” Wes spoke up.

Even though Zach Roberts died in an incident involving a string of lights and an inflatable Santa, he’s determined to deck the halls in a big way. But being trapped in a rental cabin with the Ghost of Christmas Overkill isn’t on Jessica Newton’s bah-humbug agenda.

Together they discover it’s nice to be naughty, but can he help her find her holiday spirit?

“On Christmas Eve, it'll be eleven years.”

Jessica took her coffee to the breakfast nook and wasn't surprised when Zach took a seat opposite her. At least he didn't sink down through the chair or anything.

“You died on Christmas Eve?” Even despising the holiday as she did, Jessica found that sad. “How old are you?
Were
you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

Ugh
. “I'm five years older than you.”

Zach leaned forward, grinning in a way that was purely sexual. Her body responded, and Jessica realized if he was solid enough to sit in a chair, he might be solid enough to do other things, as well.

Getting all hot and bothered by a ghost hadn't been in her rental agreement, either. And yet there it was. Her neck grew hot and itchy, and she squirmed a little in her chair.

“Technicalities aside,” Zach continued, “I should be forty, which would make me six years older than you.”

“True,” she murmured, even as she tried to convince herself this was a ludicrous conversation. What difference did it make if he was five years younger or six years older? He was a ghost or she'd suffered a complete psychotic break. Either condition was not conducive to sex.

The ghost slash possible hallucination shrugged. “But I didn't live to forty. Instead I'm stuck here forever in my sexual prime.”

“I thought the sexual prime for guys was about eighteen.”

“I was a late bloomer,” he said, then he winked. “Trust me, I’m in my prime…eternally.”

When Jessica had to tamp down hard on the urge to crawl over the table and onto his lap, she knew she'd been wrong about conditions not being conducive to sex. There was nothing she wanted more at that second than to have him untie her bathrobe’s sash and unwrap her like a present on Christmas morning.

And he knew it, too, the bastard. She could tell by the look on his face he knew she was practically squirming in her chair.

She needed to focus on something besides her body's reaction to him before she did something really stupid like unwrap her own self and dive across the table at him.

“Make the Christmas decorations go away,” she said, determined to talk about anything but his eternal sexual prime.

“I can't just snap my fingers and make them disappear.”

“Why not? Isn't that how they got there?”

Zach gave her a wounded look. “I worked all night putting those up. I found them in the storage shed after I died, and I put them up every year.”

“Well you can work all day putting them back.”

He drummed his fingers on the table, and each thump reminded Jessica of just how solid he was. Solid and hard and stuck in his sexual prime.

“Let's make a deal,” he offered. “Which one do you hate the most?”

Jessica looked around the visual assault, considering. “The ceramic milk and cookies on the coffee table.” There was a childish, homemade look to them that tugged a little too hard on the heartstrings.

“Kiss me and I'll put them away.”

Her nipples started to ache and she was thankful her bathrobe hid the physical evidence. “Maybe I'll box it all back up myself.”

Zach narrowed his eyes, grinning slightly at the challenge. “I'll keep putting it back and, unlike you, I don't have to sleep.”

This was a challenge she didn't mind losing, but Jessica was determined to keep her dignity largely intact. “So I let you kiss me and the glass snacks go away?”

He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “No.
You
kiss
me
and it goes back in the shed.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Jessica pushed her chair back and walked around the table.

Zach didn't move. She stared down at him, waiting for him to at least uncross his arms. He didn't.

Fine. If he wanted to play games, she could play with the best of them. She straddled his lap and bunched the front of his T-shirt in one hand. With the other hand, she tugged his hair, pulling his head back.