Across the front yard, Trace lingers beside the open door of the sedan. The dark suit makes his blond hair look paler than normal, and his eyes are so light they shimmer in the sunlight.
I can’t see the emotion there, but I don’t have to. Every inch of his rigid posture vibrates with devastation. It’s killing him to leave me. To leave me here with Cole.
But I made these rules. Now I have to own them.
He flattens a hand over his necktie, as if to keep it from lifting in the chilly breeze. Then he turns and lowers into the backseat, making that hand on his chest look more like he’s holding a breaking heart.
My own heart gives a painful thump, and it pounds harder as he closes the door and disappears behind tinted glass.
He didn’t say goodbye, and now the car is rolling into motion, carrying him away from me.
Even though I made this happen, I can’t handle it. The sight of him leaving without giving me something to cling to—a whisper of hope, a tender touch—rises panic through me.
What if he’s in a car accident? What if he dies and I never see him again?
I fly off the porch, my bare feet racing through the cold grass and onto the quiet street. But I’m too late. He’s already a block away.
I keep running, chasing, aching for the confident strength of his arms around me.
The brake lights illuminate, and the sedan slows to a stop. My breath rushes out, my legs burning with exertion as I close the distance.
Then the sedan reverses, shrinking the gap, until the rear door opens. Trace’s long leg slides out before the car stops moving. But I’m already there, tumbling into the backseat and onto his lap.
“Danni.” His timbre is breathy and deep, fanning across my face.
I shut the door and straddle his thighs, panting, with my arms enfolding his neck and my forehead resting against his.
He combs his fingers through my hair, runs his hands up and down my back, and lifts them to frame my face.
I get a glimpse of sad blue eyes a millisecond before his mouth covers mine. My pulse skitters at the warm, soft, delicious feel of his lips.
This is what I needed, and my insides purr with contentment.
His fingers drift into my hair and tighten as his tongue traces the seam of my mouth. I open for him, inviting him with hungry licks and whimpers.
He takes over, angling my head and plunging deeper, faster, his urgency apparent in the clench of his hands and the flexing muscle beneath his suit.
And just like that, I’m wildly aroused, like he injected lighter fluid in my veins. One touch below my neck and I’ll catch fire. It’s all I can do to keep from wriggling on his thickening cock.
He delves inside my mouth, sweeping with expert strokes, controlling the pace and depth, and demanding I meet the frantic rub of his tongue. A groan reverberates from his lips, and I devour it, unable to catch my breath or control the beat of my heart.
My chest swells with peace and happiness, but it’s also filled with fear. I don’t know what will become of us. I only know that what we have doesn’t come around very often, and by some miracle, I managed to capture this rare, wonderful thing with two men. I can’t let go.
“I didn’t mean to get you worked up.” I trail a path of kisses over his smooth cheek. “I just wanted…I needed to make sure you know I love you.”
“I know, Danni.” He nibbles on my ear lobe. “But I never tire of hearing it.” His embrace constricts, pressing me impossibly tighter against his chest. “All I can think about is you kissing him like that.”
“Think of it this way. We just shared the last kiss of our first relationship. Cole got one of those four years ago.” I push back until his arms loosen. “We’re starting over. Right now.” I slide off his lap and kneel on the seat beside him. “This is ground zero.”
The muscles in his face tense.
“I’m going to go slow.” I touch his jaw. “With both of you. It’s a new beginning and…” A smile pulls at my lips. “I have a feeling this beginning will be a thousand times better than our last one.”
He closes his eyes, but I don’t miss the shadow of guilt in the depths.
“I love you, Trace Savoy.” I open the door and back out of the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Not nearly as much as I love you.” He reaches out and grazes a knuckle beneath my chin. “And I’m counting down the minutes.”
With a nod, I close the door.
This time, when the car motors away, I don’t feel as panicky. The sensation is still present, gnawing inside my stomach, but he knows I love him. He knows this isn’t over.
I hurry back to the front yard, my toes turning purple in the nippy air. But instead of heading toward the front door, I veer down the driveway alongside my house, expecting to find Cole outside.
Sure enough, he crouches beside his motorcycle, surrounded by a clutter of tools.
He looks up at my approach, his face lined with unbridled interest as he scans me from feet to tits, making a slow study of my skinny jeans and off-the-shoulder sweatshirt. When he finally lifts his eyes to mine, I’m standing a few feet away with my eyebrows arched.
“When do you start your new job?” I ask.
“In a couple days.” He rises to his full height and wipes his hands on a rag.
He’s not as tall as Trace, but he’s still almost a head taller than me.
I angle my neck to hold his warm gaze. “Got any plans today?”
The shake of his head is slow and somewhat absent, like he’s not really paying attention to my words. It’s the flirty smile that makes me suspicious. Whatever he’s thinking is private in nature and probably dirty as hell.
I’m reminded that he hasn’t had sex in over four years. Without Trace here, it’s going to be a harrowing test of will to keep all that pent-up hunger out of my bed.
A sigh ripples past my lips. “There’s somewhere I need to be. Do you want to see what I’ve been up to while you’ve been gone?”
“I’d love to.” His smile explodes in shards of light, popping his dimples and vanishing the shadows between us. “Where are we going?”
“Anticipation—”
“Heightens the pleasure.” He winks, making me melt. “We’ll take the bike.”
“I hoped you’d say that.”
“Let me clean up, and I’ll be ready to go.”
Fifteen minutes later, I wait for him in the driveway, huddling against the chill in the faux-leather jacket, gloves, and boots he gave me shortly after we met. Black leggings, made to look like leather, complete my outfit.
I’m not a biker chick, but I always felt kind of badass when I rode behind him dressed like this. I’m giddy with excitement to experience that nostalgic rumble between my legs. God, it’s been so long.