Grayson topples me back onto Derek’s chest and moves up between our spread legs. He looks down at me and then over my shoulder at Derek. He doesn’t have to speak. His thoughts are written all over his face, boiled down to a single possessive word. Mine.
He guides his cock into me, just too shy of being too rough. I start to reach for him, but Derek catches my wrists. “You’ve caused enough trouble today.”
“It won’t be enough until you fuck.”
His laugh is strained. “Jesus, Emma.”
“She has no problem asking for what she wants.” Grayson begins moving, fucking me against his best friend’s chest as Derek holds me down. Each stroke feels like he’s claiming me, like he’s making a promise to Derek.
Derek shifts my wrists to one of his big hands and skates the other down my stomach to play with my clit as Grayson fucks me.
I’ll never get used to this. The sheer decadence of having two sets of hands on me. Of being pressed between two bodies. It’s a fast-growing addiction I don’t have the self-preservation to curtail. I want, want, want. More, more, more. I come again, and Grayson follows me over the edge, grinding into me, his eyes gone wild. He half-slumps onto us and laughs roughly. “I’m going to crush you.”
“I can take it,” Derek growls at my back.
“Still.” Grayson shifts to the side and takes me with him, dragging us all over onto our sides. He props his head in his hand and gives a startling open grin. “Merry Christmas.”
It is Christmas, isn’t it?
I stretch between them, enjoying the feeling of my skin rubbing against theirs on either side. “Merry Christmas.”
Derek’s stomach chooses that moment to make a large growling sound. Grayson laughs a little. “I’ll get breakfast started.” When I start to rise, he gives my shoulder a nudge. “Stay. I’ll call when it’s ready.”
I watch him rise and stride out of the room. If I didn’t know better, I’d say my husband is running from what he just did. It doesn’t make any sense. The line’s been crossed. Last night. This morning. There’s no point in trying to go back. Why would he want to?
Derek’s arms come around me and he pulls me back against his chest. “Pretty sure this goes down as most memorable Christmas ever.”
“Pretty sure?” I inject my tone with some mock outrage and turn in his arms. “You’re going to irreparably damage my self-esteem if you tell me I don’t measure up to the bicycle you got when you were eight.”
He grins. “It was a really cool bike. It had flames on it and everything.”
“So rude.” I laugh and snuggle closer. “Merry Christmas, Derek.”
His expression goes soft and he smooths my hair back from my face. “Merry Christmas, Emma.”
It strikes me that this is the final day. Christmas. By morning tomorrow, we’ll go back to being the two most important people in Grayson’s life who don’t exchange bodily fluids. Something like panic flutters in my chest. I thought it would be simple to put Derek back in the “safe” box in my mind once this was over, but now I don’t know if it’s possible. “What if this was a mistake?”
His fingers feather over my temple. “This stops when you want it to. If you’re not comfortable with it, we can stop now.”
But what if I don’t want it to stop?
I don’t say it. It feels like a betrayal to take this gift Grayson gave me—gave us—to ask for more. “I’m okay.” I manage a smile. “It’s just a little surreal that this is happening at all.”
“Fuck yeah.” He leans down and brushes his mouth against mine.
I should leave it at that, but I’ve never been good at sitting back and letting something I want drift past. I run my hands up his broad chest. “It’s the same for you, you know. If you want to stop, we stop.” I hesitate. “If you don’t want to fuck Grayson, you don’t have to. I just—”
Derek catches my mouth with his. He kisses me hard, hard enough that I can’t help writhing a little, my body already demanding more despite the two outstanding orgasms I experienced not too long ago. When he finally lifts his head, we’re both breathing hard. He runs a big hand down my back and over my ass. “It’s complicated.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Guess not.” His gaze falls to my mouth and he looks like he’s considering kissing me until I forget what we were talking about. “But it’s the truth. It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it.”
Derek huffs out a laugh, though it sounds strained. “Grayson is…” He rolls onto his back, but keeps me tucked against his side. “We’ve been friends for most of our lives.”
I have to press my lips together to keep from peppering him with questions, from dragging his thoughts out one by one. He’ll tell me or he won’t. I have to learn some freaking patience.