“It’s nice to see both of you here tonight.” Bree nods at Cole while speaking to Trace. “It must be uncomfortable for you.”
Leave it to my sister to finally address the elephant in the room. But since she thinks Cole and Trace met for the first time a couple weeks ago, she doesn’t know the extent of the bad blood between them.
“When I’m with your sister…” Trace caresses a path up my inner thigh and strokes a finger along the crotch of my panties. “It’s never uncomfortable.”
My thighs clench together, trapping his hand. He seems perfectly at ease fingering me under the table while talking to Bree. Meanwhile, I’m so tense I probably look constipated as I try to keep my hips from rocking against his touch. My face burns, and I clench my fingers against the tablecloth.
Thankfully, Cole’s still discussing soccer with David and doesn’t look in my direction. If I push Trace’s hand away, it’ll draw attention, so I try to relax and temper my breathing.
“You know, this isn’t their first meal together.” I cough into my fist as Trace presses a firm finger against my clit. “They had breakfast together last week without me.”
“Really?” Bree arches a brow.
“Yeah. I have no idea what they talked about—”
“I told you.” Trace wickedly circles that finger, making my toes curl. “We discussed your health and our impact on it.”
“Hmm.” Bree leans in, studying me closely. “I will say, you never get sick. God, how long has it been? The last time you didn’t feel well enough to dance was…” Her eyes drift to Cole, and her complexion pales.
When he died. That’s the last time I was sick. And it was an ugly sick—inside and out, front to back, and dead all over. I didn’t get out of bed for weeks.
Trace watches Cole talk to David then shifts his intelligent gaze to me. “You might’ve had the flu, but you were already rundown. Physically and emotionally. Your health is more important than anything else going on in your life.”
“I like you.” Angel, who’s been quiet all night, directs her big brown eyes at Trace.
The hand between my legs retreats to my knee, and he scowls at the four-year-old. “That’s good, because I like your aunt.”
“I don’t like him.” She points at Cole and narrows her eyes. “I’m going to rip his spine out.”
Angel just met Cole for the first time tonight. Evidently, she’s quicker at making decisions than I am.
“Angel!” Bree angles toward her daughter, glaring. “I don’t want to ever hear that again.
“So put your fingers in your ears.” Angel blinks, expressionless.
“Oh my God,” Bree mouths to me behind the concealment of her hand.
As laughter bubbles up my throat, Bree shakes her head at me. I guess she doesn’t want me to encourage the little demon. So I arrange my face into a disapproving expression.
Bree pushes Angel’s mostly empty plate toward her. “Finish your dinner.”
My niece stares at her green beans and frowns. “Vegetables are ruining my life.”
I can’t stop my laughter this time, and even Trace smiles.
After dessert, we clear the table, and the men step out on the deck with beers in hand. It’s warm for November. Jacket weather. Maybe I’ll join them while Bree gives Angel a bath. But first, I need to pee.
The three-bedroom house is average-sized, appropriate for Bree and David’s teacher salaries. I amble down the hall, bypassing the main bathroom, since it’s currently occupied by Bree and Angel.
I slip into the master bedroom and use the facilities in the tiny en suite. Hands washed and hair finger-combed, I open the bathroom door to step out. And slam into a hot steel wall with a startled oomph.
Cole pushes his way in, forcing me backward and locking the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” My pulse races at the hungry expression on his face.
Eyes hooded and roving up and down my body, he isn’t here to use the bathroom.
“You let him play with your pussy at the table.” His gaze snaps to mine and narrows.
“What?” Shit. Fuck. I don’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever.
“Don’t pull that innocent act with me.” He grips my hips and lifts me to sit on the edge of the vanity. “Did he put his fingers inside you?”
I shove at his immobile chest. “I’m not answering that.”
Jesus. He was involved in a conversation with my brother-in-law at the time. How does he know where Trace put his hand?
“I’m always watching you.” He cups my face and leans in, his eyes sooty and heavy with desire. “You look so damn beautiful in this dress.”
Since my tight black sheath dress and strappy stilettos couldn’t be worn on the motorcycle, I didn’t put them on until we got here.
“Thank you.” I slide my hands over the front of his white Henley shirt. “We should go back—”
“You’re coming home with me tonight.” He runs his nose alongside mine, heating my lips with his breath.
“No, I’m not,” I say gently. “I was with you last night.” And I rode his cock for hours.
I don’t know what his reaction would be if he knew I was going home with Trace to confess what I’ve been doing. I’m afraid he’ll talk me out of it.
He rubs his hands up my thighs and nudges me wider to spread around his hips. There’s no bossy demands or heated I-need-you whispers. He just grasps the back of my head and stares at me, his bottom lip pouting slightly and begging to be licked.
It’s a look that precedes a kiss, and as our mouths touch, we sigh together. Easing closer, reaching deeper, he brushes his tongue against mine. Each caress urges me to pull him tighter. Every rasping breath paves the way for more. More tasting. More touching. More Cole.
The wet smacking sounds of our lips echo in the tiny bathroom. Then his hands are moving, down my body, circling and caressing my breasts, and lower, pulling on the hem of my dress and yanking it to my hips.
I groan a sound of protest against his mouth and hunch back. “We can’t.”
“We can.” He cradles my face in his hands, his lips wet and swollen. “We can do anything you want to do. What do you want, baby?”
I want him and me in this stolen moment.
Collecting heartbeats.
Falling in love for the millionth time.
Moving slow.
Breathing fast.
Clinging and kissing and connecting in every way.
Because it feels so damn good to be with him.
He reads my eyes and knows what I’m thinking. His exhales fall sharp and swift, and he kisses me, touches my face, his fingers shaking and flexing against my jaw.
“Danni.” A pained whisper. He shoves the crotch of my panties to the side and slides a finger through my wet heat. “So damn sexy.”
Each caress trembles through me, awakening an achy throb between my legs. I grip his shoulders and bite back a moan.
His breaths shorten as he unzips his jeans and frees his long, thick erection, holding my gaze.