Picture This Page 17

  He nodded and slouched in his seat, his long legs stretching beneath her chair. He crossed his arms and studied her. "I do. I'm not sure I approve of them at the same time. Geez Louise, Rayne, why both? I mean, okay, I understand that single people go on dates with a couple of different someones. Every date doesn't have to instantly lead to an exclusive relationship. But what you're telling me is you have, what, a ménage a trios with these men?"

  "That's the PC term. I didn't plan for this to happen, Max. I ended up on a date with Ford. Then I landed into a date with Cory. Then I accepted another date with Cory, only to walk into a date with both."

  "Only you would fall into a ménage relationship." Max laughed and this time there was actually a trace of real humor in the sound.

  Rayne shrugged and her lips twitched. "You know how the unpredictable seems to follow me around. Seriously though, Max, what's wrong with things going this way? I like both men, equally, might I add, and they both like me. They're okay with this arrangement. Hell, it was their idea! Besides, I'm safer with things this way."

  "Because you think you can't be hurt if you're dating both men. You think you can't fall too hard." Max understood. Sometimes, it took a bit of talk and persuasion to bring him around to her way of thinking, but when it came down to the wire, she could always count on him to have her back.

  "Got it in one, big brother." She reached over and patted his knee.

  "And what happens if you fall hard for both of them?"

  "That won't happen," she said briskly, sternly. It couldn't happen. It just couldn't. Except, hadn't she already been thinking….No, no, no! Things might have crossed her mind, but that didn't mean they were truly happening.

  "And what if it does?" Max asked again, his tone full of concern and tears burned the back of Rayne's eyes. "I worry about you, sis. I want to see you happy. You've already been hurt so much."

  Yeah, by her no good, cheating, lazy ass ex-husband whom she'd thought she loved, and the guy before that, and the one before that. Rayne swallowed down the lump that progressively got larger in her throat. For crying out loud, did she even really know what love felt like?

  "And I'm sorry, Rayne, I shouldn't have encouraged Cory to go after you. He wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t told him to.”

  “The whole can’t date the ex-girlfriend, sister, blah, blah, blah, thing. Yeah, I thought about that later, after he told me you gave him permission to flirt with me.”

  “To flirt with you? That’s what he said, huh? Sounds to me like he’s gone a lot farther than flirting. And maybe that’s my fault, too. I just thought, hell, I don't know what I thought."

  "That he's a good man who would be good for me," Rayne said. "I got that. And you were right. He is a good man. I'm tired of turning down dates because I'm afraid to fall in love. I'm tired of not having sex because I'm scared that, in giving up my body, I'm giving up my heart. I've had some pretty wild career aspirations in my life, but being a nun was never one of them."

  Max laughed. "You would make a horrible nun."

  "About as good as you would a monk. Though, wait a minute, come to think of it, I haven't seen you with a woman lately."

  "I'm keeping an eye out. I'm glad you're dating again. Really, I would rather see you dating than hidden in this room or behind that camera lens. I'm not sure the way you're going about it is wise, but that's not my decision to make. I’d rather see you married again, to a man who really loves you this time. Oh, damn it all to hell, Rayne, I just don't want to see you end up alone."

  Rayne bristled. She couldn't say exactly why that put her back up, but she felt the tears dissipate into a ball of annoyance that plopped into the gut. "Yeah, and your wife is such an infuriating twit."

  He chuckled. "Point taken. I'll make sure when I find the right woman, she isn't such an infuriating twit. Okay?"

  "And until you do, you can stop worrying about me."

  "Impossible. It's my duty as your big brother to worry about you."

  "Fine, you can stop needling me then."

  "Nope, can't do that, either."

  "Oh, fuck it, I give up." Rayne sighed and rolled her eyes, but when she met Max's gaze, he was grinning so wide, it made her smile, too.

  * * * *

  Cory touched the flame of the lighter to the wick of the taper candle in the center of the coffee table and a knock sounded at the door. "Well, well, well, right on time," he muttered and took a second to be sure the candle caught fire before moving across the living room to the door.

  She'd pulled her hair back in a high ponytail, tendrils already slipping free to fan around her head in haphazard springs. His mouth started to water as his gaze slid down her body. She wore a faded Nine Inch Nails T-shirt untucked over a pair of figure clinging, curve accentuating stretch pants. His pulse sped at the sight. On her feet were the same ratty tennis shoes he remembered seeing the day they met. Come to think of it, the whole ensemble made him think of that day. Even the fact that her hands were full brought the memories assailing back. She didn’t have the toppling box this time. Instead, she held more photos in one hand and her camera in the other. And on the heels of all those memories was the one he knew he would never forget. The kiss they'd shared leading to both their almost-orgasms. Oh, yeah.

  He growled low in his throat, caught her by the arm, and yanked her hard against him. He felt her camera slap his thigh as her head tipped back, her mouth opening in an O of surprise. He capitalized on it, crushing his mouth over hers, his tongue diving in. Oh, double yeah.

  She tasted of toothpaste and Rayne. It misted through him in a delicious euphoria more doctoring than any drug on or off the market. Her mouth was warm, a wet blanket that closed around his tongue to caress. He cupped her nape, drawing her head closer still, deepening the kiss to the farthest. What was he trying to do, crawl inside the woman's body through her mouth? Possibly. At that moment, being one with her in every way seemed like the best idea he'd ever had.

  Her arms curled around his waist, her curvy body molding to his, and it felt freaking good. He growled again, the sound muffled this time by her wickedly amazing mouth. She licked the inside of his mouth, running her tongue over his teeth before drawing back just enough to nip his bottom lip. Then she was the one who dived back in. She took the kiss from the borderline teetering of hungry and sweet to a famished attack that sent his cock on an aching spiral to Hard-on-ville even as it brought his heart to float up somewhere in his chest near his throat.

  "Hmmm," she purred when he finally pulled away.

  He rested his forehead to hers, gazing into her eyes darkened by desire and knew no way could he fall any harder for the woman in his arms. He was already in love.

  "Wow! What a greeting." Her voice sounded a little breathless, a bit low and sexy as hell. "Where did that come from?"

  "I missed you." He had. The instant she'd walked out the door that morning, he'd started to miss her. That's when he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was in real trouble here. He couldn't get enough of this woman. Ford might be the one who often lived on the edge of trouble but this kind, well, Cory could learn to appreciate this kind of trouble really fast.

  Her laugh was soft and sultry. "I got that. I missed you, too." She drew back, but not out of his arms. She looked around him, her gaze obviously landing on the coffee table and the lit candle and her eyebrow winged up. "Expecting someone?"

  "Only you." His hand was still on her nape and he flexed his fingers, lightly massaging the muscles. She made a purring sound again that seemed to wrap around his cock and squeeze the subtle aching until it morphed into a persistent but oddly exhilarating pain.

  "And you knew it was me knocking on the door how?"

  The skepticism in her voice made him laugh. "I didn't. I hoped." He'd felt it. He'd never been one to believe in the paranormal or sixth sense powers or any of that stuff, but he'd known somehow she was on her way over. He'd, well, felt it. "Besides, call me wonky or girly, but I like candlelight." It was true.
As stupid as he sometimes felt about it, there had been many a night when he settled back on the sofa in his skivvies with a bowl of popcorn, a beer, the flickering light of a candle, and the colorful explosion of ESPN.

  She smiled up at him and his world tilted. "I won't call you, either. I think it's sweet. Besides, call me wonky or girly, but I like the candlelight, too."

  "You are girly." He grinned and brushed his lips over her nose. "And I love that you are." He saw her eyes widen slightly at his use of the word love, but she recovered quickly.

  "Do you have a glass of wine to go with this romantic ambiance you've got going or is Bud Lite the drink of choice tonight?"

  "I've got wine. I went out and picked up both white and red. I hope you like them chilled." He let his hand slide down her side, framing her curves. God, he loved her curves!

  "I do." She slithered in his arms, her body moving with the fall of his hand in a slow and sensual dance that made his pulse rev to defibrillating strength. "Think we should move this out of the doorway before we end up against the wall in the hall again?" Her tone was teasing now even beneath the heat that nearly scorched the air around them.

  Cory forced himself to take a step back, to release her. His arms and body wept from the absence of her contact. He had to focus his attention elsewhere before the rest of him started to weep, too. "Is that the rest of the pictures from the photo shoot?" He tipped his chin at the photos in her hand.

  "You bet." She moved around him and he closed the door. "Why don't you get us that glass of wine, red, please, and you can give these a look see." She set her camera on the coffee table away from the candle, then moved between the table and sofa to sit.

  "Bossy lady," Cory commented, loving the way she was already comfortable enough in his apartment to make herself at home. Would he be jumping the gun too much if he started to wish she'd move in with him and Ford? Her house was currently unlivable, after all. But yeah, suggesting she move in after one night of incredible sex would be moving far too fast. Damn it.

  She grinned, but it was the lingering heat in her eyes that made him stop. "Just keeping up conversation, you know, that way I can say I've been here for at least five minutes before I jump you. I wouldn't want you to think that's the only reason I came over."

  Well, hell, when she put it that way. "I'll get that wine. You know, so I can show you that I know that's not why you came over. And I'll look at those pictures, that way you know that's not the only reason I wanted you over. Will that work?"

  She laughed, the sound wholly amused and so arousing that he nearly said, ‘Fuck the five minutes,’ and, ‘Jump me, jump me, jump me!’ "That will work. Do you mind if I kick off my shoes or will that completely contradict everything I just said?"

  "Take off anything you like." Everything would be great, he thought and his cock pulsed in agreement. "Make yourself at home." And stay. Forever.

  He walked to the kitchen, amazed at how badly he truly wanted her to stay forever. He'd known her less than two weeks and already he couldn't imagine being without her. It had taken longer to reach this stage with Paula. He'd never thought to ever feel this way again. And even this was much stronger than what he'd felt then.

  It wasn't right to compare the two women of his life, one past, the other present, and he wouldn't. In truth, there was no comparison. Paula had been nothing like Rayne. They were as different as two women could be inside and out. As was what he felt for them. He could only be thankful that he'd been given a second chance at happiness, at love. How many men could say they'd gotten that in life? Cory bet he ranked among a select few.

  He poured the chilled red wine into two of the three wine glasses waiting on the counter and slid the bottle back onto the wire shelf inside the six-bottle cooler. He made his way back to the living room, back to Rayne, when the front door opened. Another of the select few to be given the gift walked in.

  Cory and Ford hadn't had the chance to talk about Rayne or their feelings for her. Ford had been out the door shortly after she left that morning. Still, Cory didn't need conversation to know Ford felt the same things he did toward their woman. He would likely fight it. Ford had never been one to easily give in to love. Fear, not that the man would ever admit it in a million light years, likely already had him by the balls. They'd both lost Paula, both lost Sicily and Stewart, but it was Ford who'd suffered deepest.

  "Wining our woman so we can dine?" Ford asked by way of greeting, taking in Rayne's relaxed spot on the sofa and Cory's hands around two wine glasses in one quick glance as he shut the door.

  On her. Ford didn't have to finish his questions with the words. They were implied loud and clear in both the husky tone that immediately came to his voice and the delighted arousal that swam into his eyes. Only Ford could get away with such a brass innuendo. However, the idea of its implication….

  Cory licked his lips, remembering full well how incredibly scrumptious she tasted. He looked at her. She'd kicked off her shoes, settled back on the sofa, and folded her extraordinary legs beside her. Yeah, he was wining her all right and he’d be more than happy to dine on every delicious, smooth, and tantalizing morsel of her. "Apparently, we've been around each other long enough that the whole innuendo thing has rubbed off, too," he told her and relished her quick, musical laugh. "Want some wine?" he asked Ford, continuing on his path to the sofa to serve Rayne her glass. He gave a low chuckle, shook his head, and rolled his eyes when Ford plucked the other glass from his hand.

  "Thanks, bro, I think I will." Ford shot him a lopsided grin that had Rayne giggling and he plopped down on the sofa next to her. "Hey there, sweetheart, come here often?"

  "Mr. Comic Relief at his best," Cory muttered and went back to the kitchen to fix himself another glass. "Get any new breakthroughs on that case today?" he raised his voice to ask. When his question was met with a faint, "Hmmm," from the next room, he bit back a grin and an oath. The bastard had already taken control.

  Sure enough, when Cory reentered the living room, he found Rayne in Ford's arms, their mouths locked in a kiss so hungry, it made his stomach growl. He sipped his wine and, for a moment, stood at the end of the short, adjacent hallway between the kitchen and living room and watched. If he'd had any doubts whatsoever about Ford's true feelings for Rayne, that single kiss would've erased them in an instant. Ford loved her. Whether or not he knew it himself yet remained the sixty-four thousand dollar question, but it was there and strong.

  Stupidly, Cory felt a sense of relief wash through him at that. It wasn't like he needed Ford to be in a relationship, for God's sake. Yet, what they'd shared with Paula long ago had been righter than anything in Cory's life. And finding it again, having it again with Rayne, it was perfect.

  Are you lovers? Rayne's question that morning had given him pause. She'd asked innocently, as if she didn't care one way or the other. Pure curiosity. He and Ford answered in kind. They'd told the truth, too. They weren't lovers, never had been, never talked about being. Cory wasn’t gay and he knew Ford wasn't, either. Not that there was anything at all wrong with the sexual choice. It simply didn't apply to either of them.

  Ever thought about it, come close, touched? She'd asked that, too, and the truth was, despite the accidental brushings when they shared a woman, they'd never really came close. Still, Cory had to admit he’d thought about it once or twice over their years of friendship. He'd wondered not exactly what it would be like to have sex with Ford, but to purposely touch, maybe even to kiss.

  On the sofa, Rayne's eyes opened. Her head and Ford's were angled just right to give her a dead on view of where Cory stood watching. She held out an arm, beckoning him to her side even as her other hand delved into Ford's hair. Cory set the glass on the table as he sat down beside her. She found him easily—the woman was apparently a master at multi-tasking—and snaked her arm up his front and around his neck, pulling him closer.

  His heart beat rapid fire in his chest. What was she trying to do? Ford eased back slowly, not stopping th
e kiss, but changing the angle and his eyes opened, too. Rayne tugged on Cory's neck and she broke the kiss with Ford long enough to say, "Kiss me," before going back for more.

  Ford gave an almost infinitesimal shrug and met Cory's gaze, the look in his friend’s eyes clearly saying, "What the hell, go for it."

  Cory went for it and joined their kiss.

  Chapter Eight

  Their tongues met and Rayne melted between them. Had it been five minutes since she'd entered the apartment? She sure hoped so because no way would she stop touching them for a second. And kissing them, ah, God, kissing them was beyond sheer bliss. Her eyes drifted closed as their tongues tangled and danced in the scorching air between them. The taste of Cory, of Ford, mingled in a concoction that blew her mind and sent her senses on a whirlwind of explosive delight.

  She hadn't expected them to do it, had figured one of them would pull back. Sure, it was her they kissed, but it was also absolutely impossible to share a three-way kiss and the two men's tongues not collide. She wanted to pull back herself. She wanted to watch them kiss without her in the middle to separate them. Who knew two men kissing could be such an amazing turn-on?

  Fear they would stop, that they would be repulsed by their actions, kept her welded between them. Her hands were around them both, snaked behind their necks to cup their napes as they devoured her mouth on either side. It was astonishing, arousing, erotic to the umpteenth power and she really enjoyed the hell out of it.

  Ford eased away first and she opened her eyes, half expecting to see horror in his expression. What she saw instead sent every pulse point in her body on a speeding race to the finish line between her legs. Passion glinted in his eyes. Hunger darkened his features. Oh, wow, she could relate. She felt as if she were drowning in that passion, her belly tight with an echoing hunger, her core pulsating with the desire to feed.

  Cory's hand moved behind her head and she lost sight of Ford as all her attention focused on the man to her left. He took control of her mouth in such a tender, delicate feast that the need to feed built to an animalistic predatory state. She even purred, the sound rumbling from low in her throat, only to be muffled by Cory's mouth as he closed it fully over hers, his tongue diving deep.