He put his hand out to her. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you into bed. It’s late.”
She smiled and let him lead her by the hand to the bed. Andre peeled back the comforter and patted the mattress. She climbed beneath the covers. “You know, I don’t think I’ve been tucked into bed since I was a little girl.”
He laid the blanket over her and placed a light kiss on her lips, the latter sending warmth to the best places. His gaze softened. “I feel privileged to be the one to break the dry spell then.”
Oh, he and Jace were breaking her dry spell all right.
“Good night, bella. Get some rest.” He leaned over to click off the bedside lamp.
“Wait.”
He paused, his fingers on the switch, looking over at her.
She was going to tell him to leave it on because of her fear, but something else sprung to her lips instead. “Stay.”
“What?”
She pushed the comforter back down. This was ridiculous. She spent enough nights alone. Screw that. This was supposed to be her fantasy weekend. And she had no history and mixed-up feelings to worry about with Andre. She just liked him, plain and simple. Enjoyed talking to him, and well, touching him wasn’t so bad either. “Stay with me?”
He eyed the bed a bit warily. “Evan, I’ll be fine. The couch won’t kill me.”
“It’s not about that. I’m just—” She looked away quickly, biting her lip. What in the hell was wrong with her? She’d almost slipped up and told him she was tired of sleeping alone. “I mean, I was thinking before we jump into the whole ménage thing, this might help me get more comfortable with you, be less nervous.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Just how comfortable are we talking? Because I pride myself on self-control, but I’m not dead.”
She laughed and raised her hand, remembering his Boy Scout reference from a few weeks before. “Scout’s honor. We’ll just sleep. I won’t even run my tongue along your nipple rings and tug them with my teeth, even though I really, really want to.”
He shook his head then peeled off his shirt. “We better be careful around you, bella. We may have met our match.”
He clicked off the lamp, bathing the room in moonlight, and climbed into bed. Without saying another word, he stretched out behind her and gathered her against him, as if they were lovers who had slept this way for years. She couldn’t prevent the little sigh that passed her lips as his arms and heat enveloped her.
It was lovely and sexy and comforting.
Almost perfect.
The only other thing that would make it better would be to have a certain blond stretched out against her other side.
And that realization scared her more than anything had in a long, long time.
FOURTEEN
Jace stomped out of the bedroom, squinting through the bright morning light filling the living room. He’d woken up cold, alone, and pissed. Pissed that Evan wasn’t in bed next to him and really pissed that he cared.
He should’ve never given in to his need to claim her last night. She’d responded so well under his hand, thrived beneath the dominance like a daisy in sunshine. The rush he’d gotten from her reactions had left him reeling. So much so that he’d gone and dropped his guard without realizing it. He had joked around with her like he used to, had even wanted her to share his bed overnight, which was something he never did with anyone. He’d let himself feel something for her, goddammit.
Which is exactly why last night could never happen again. Even if the mere thought of having Evan all to himself for another round had his dick stiffening in his pajama pants. The only way he was touching her again was if Andre was there, too. End of story.
He glanced around the living room, his gaze landing on the couch, a pillow and blanket spread out on it. Oh, hell no. If Evan had slept on that hard sofa instead of waking him and admitting she wasn’t cool with sharing a bed, he was going to spank her ass. He’d told her he would take care of her this weekend. Why wouldn’t she let him?
But if she had slept out here, where the hell was she? He looked around the room again and noticed an abandoned glass of water on the dining room table.
Ah, fuck.
The answer hit him like a knee to the groin. He knew exactly where she was.
And he should be damn happy about it, but instead he had to breathe through a wave of anger he had no right to have. He’d set this up. Talked to Andre himself last night. Rolled out the goddamned red carpet. This is what needed to happen, right?
Unable to stop himself from confirming his suspicions, he crossed to the other side of the cabin until he was standing in front of Andre’s door. He probably should knock.