Sharing shane, p.17
Sharing Shane, page 17
He grunted again, and she laughed. “God, you’re cute.”
“Cute?” Out of the corner of her eye she saw him roll toward her. “I’m cute?”
She mustered up the energy to move, curling into his side. “Fucking adorable.”
“Well.” He seemed genuinely nonplused by that observation. “That’s a new one.”
She laid a hand on his chest. He was sweaty, and she could feel his heart pounding under her palm. “You must have heard that before.”
“Not really. Wyatt gets cute a lot, though.”
“And he is,” she said with a sleepy sigh, and her eyes drifted closed. “But so are you.”
He shifted his body, turning on his side to face her. “You got all cranked up watching Wyatt kiss me, Miss I Don’t Have A Sexual Bucket List.”
She forced her eyes open, a little surprised to find his face so close to hers. His eyes were so dark, still cloudy from passion. “Just because I don’t have a list of sexual ‘must do before death’ items doesn’t mean I don’t find the idea of you, me, and Wyatt all naked together hot.”
His lips quirked. “Yeah?”
“Ridiculously hot.” The sweat was drying on her skin, making her shiver, so she snuggled closer. He wrapped his arm around her, stroking her arm with an absent sort of intimacy that made her heart sigh. “Smoking hot. Incendiary. Lava.”
He chuckled. “Okay, you think it’s hot.”
“In theory,” she said, her eyes drifting shut. “Never having had a threesome with two guys, I don’t know if it would be hot in practice or just annoying.”
“Why would it be annoying?”
“Logistics,” she said around a yawn. “Are all three people equally involved, or is one waiting to tag in?”
“What, like wrestling?”
She shrugged. “If penis number one is in my vagina, where is penis number two? Is it patiently waiting its turn, or am I going to have to suck one and fuck the other at the same time? Because I gotta be honest, I don’t think I’m that coordinated.”
His chest rumbled with laughter under her cheek as she went on. “How do we decide which penis goes first? Do we flip a coin? Will there be butt stuff? Because okay, that can be fun, but I’ve seen double penetration in porn, and that doesn’t look like a good time. Also, am I solely responsible for the penises, or will there be crossing of the swords?”
“Crossing of the swords?” he echoed, sounding confused, and she opened her eyes.
“That’s probably not an issue for you two, but I understand in a hetero group sex situation, it can be very awkward if there is errant and unexpected penis touching.”
He was shaking with laughter. “No, that’s not a problem for us.”
“One less thing to worry about.” She snuggled back up against his chest. His hand was still stroking her arm, the rhythmic motion lulling her to sleep. “But still. These things need to be considered.”
“I have to say, I never gave my threesomes this much thought,” he said, laughter brightening his usual gravely, post-sex voice.
“That’s because you’re a guy.” She yawned hugely. “Guys just go ‘ooh, dick getting wet, threesome good’.”
“Is that what we do?”
“I’m speculating,” she admitted. “Probably there’s more to it than that.”
“Probably.”
“But I bet it’s easier when you love somebody, the way you and Wyatt love each other.”
“Maybe it is,” he conceded as she drifted off to sleep. “Maybe it is.”
The rest of the week passed by in a blur of sun, food, and sex, and Veronica couldn’t remember ever being so relaxed. She lost track of the days, so when Shane asked her about her flight the day before they were due to leave, it came as a complete shock that their vacation was almost over.
She didn’t handle it well.
“Are you going to pout all day?” Shane demanded after her third heavy sigh.
“No.” She stopped poking at her breakfast of fresh fruit and yogurt to send him a grumpy look across the patio table. “Maybe just for the next hour.”
“Well, let me know when you’re done,” he commented, and bit into a slice of bacon.
She frowned at her fruit plate. “Why didn’t I get bacon?”
“You didn’t order it. You said you’d been eating like crap and you wanted something healthy.”
“Dammit,” she muttered.
“What do you want to do today?” he asked, biting into his bacon again. Smugly, she thought.
“I don’t know.” She pushed her plate aside and dropped her chin into her hands. “We could fuck, I guess.”
“We could fuck, you guess? Nice enthusiasm,” he said and polished off the bacon as she laid her head back on the table hard enough to rattle the flatware. “You’re going to get yogurt in your hair.”
“Oh, shut up. You didn’t even share your bacon.”
He snorted, then glanced over as Wyatt stepped onto the patio from the beach path. “Hey.”
“Hey, baby.” Wyatt raised a brow at Veronica. “What’s with her?”
“She’s pouting,” Shane said, reaching over to move her plate away from her head.
She aimed her most pitiful look at Wyatt. “Shane didn’t share his bacon.”
“What a bastard.”
The bastard in question just rolled his eyes. “She’s blue because it’s our last day.”
“Man, me too.” Wyatt walked over to sink into the hammock with a sigh. “Leaving this place is going to suck.”
“See? He gets it.” Veronica sniffed without raising her head. “He also would’ve shared his bacon with me.”
“Of course, I would, darling,” Wyatt soothed.
“Are you both going to waste our last day here pouting?”
“Not the whole day,” Wyatt said. “Maybe like an hour.”
Veronica picked her head off the table. “That’s what I said!”
He set the hammock to swinging and grinned at her. “Synchronicity, baby.”
Shane tossed his napkin on the table. “I’m going to go for a run,” he declared. “When I get back, if the two of you are done with your pity party, we can figure out something fun to do on our last day.”
“Fine,” Veronica sighed and laid her head on the table again with a pitiful moan.
Wyatt laughed. “Go. I’ll cheer her up.”
“Don’t be a pervert,” Shane warned.
“Yeah, yeah, blah, blah.” Wyatt waved him off. “Go.”
Veronica lifted her head to look at Wyatt as Shane’s footsteps faded away. “You can be a pervert if you want. That might cheer me up.”
“Yeah?” He grinned. “How depressed are you?”
“A little bummed,” she admitted. “But sometimes I like to wallow.”
“Me, too. Shane’s too practical to wallow.”
She laughed at that. “Oh God, he is.”
“This is pretty comfortable.” Wyatt lowered a foot to the ground to push off, setting the hammock swinging again. “I should get one of these at home.”
“I’ve napped in that thing every day,” Veronica told him. “I’m going to miss it.”
“I can see why.” He nestled back into the pillows, then lifted his head to eye her curiously. “You guys haven’t done it in this, have you?”
“God, no,” she said with a snort. “We’d probably kill ourselves.”
“Yeah. Not a lot of…stability,” Wyatt mused.
Veronica raised a brow. “Is that it?”
“Is what it?”
“You being a pervert,” she explained. “I mean, based on past conversations, I was expecting something more than just speculation about hammock sex.”
“Okay,” he said agreeably. “When Shane gets back, wanna have a threesome?”
“Um….maybe?”
He started, making the hammock jerk. “Seriously?”
“No,” she said, half wishing she wasn’t. “And neither are you, you’re just trying to spook me again.”
He eased back onto the hammock, his gaze amused. “Would I do that?”
“Absolutely,” she said and tried to ignore the butterflies in her belly. “
“Okay, I would.” He sent her a wink. “But I’m serious about the threesome.”
“Oh.”
“If you’re not into it, that’s fine,” he went on, a watchful glint in his playful gaze. “I promised Shane I wouldn’t push. He’d kill me if he thought I was making you uncomfortable.”
She wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. The little wiggle in her belly was something far warmer, and far more interesting, than discomfort. “I’m not not into it,” she hedged.
“But you’re not sure turning fantasy into reality would be a good idea,” he replied. “Okay. I won’t perv you into it.”
She had to laugh. “Perve me into it?”
“I have this power,” he said with an exaggerated smolder.
“Oh, I can tell.” She propped her chin on her hand. “Just out of curiosity, what does a threesome include?”
”It includes whatever you want, and nothing you don’t. I don’t even have to fuck you.”
She snorted. “You want to have a threesome with me, but you don’t want to fuck me?”
“I want to fuck you almost as much as I want to fuck Shane.”
“Wow.” She blinked. “That’s a lot.”
“But the question isn’t do I want to fuck you, it’s do you want to fuck me.”
She chewed her lip, considering. “Honestly?”
He spread his hands. “That’s the only way this works, sunshine.”
“It depends.”
He tilted his head. “On?”
“On whether or not Shane is okay with it.”
“Aw.” The small smile curling his lips spread. “You like my boyfriend.”
“Shut up,” she said, her face heating, and cleared her throat. “Anyway. He’d have to be okay with it.”
“That’s actually my rule, too.”
“Well. That makes things…”
“Easier and more complicated at the same time?” he finished when she trailed off.
“Polyamory is some tricky shit,” she sighed, and he laughed.
“Baby, you don’t know the half of it.”
She was beginning to see that. “Anyway, I appreciate the offer, but we’ll have to come up with something else to keep us busy today.”
“Fair enough. How do you feel about snorkeling?”
“I’m good with that,” she decided, relieved the conversation had moved to safer territory. She pushed her chair back and stood. “Can you reserve the equipment?”
“Sure. One thing, though.”
She paused as Wyatt stood and walked toward her, his blue eyes strangely dark. “What is it?”
“Just this,” he said and kissed her.
She squeaked in surprise, then squeaked again when he took advantage of her parted lips to slip his tongue inside. He was bold, sliding his tongue over hers with sure strokes, flicking over the roof of her mouth before pulling back to nibble on her lips. Heat curled in her belly, and just as she leaned into him, wanting more, he was gone.
She blinked her eyes open to find him watching her with a kind of heated satisfaction. “Just wanted to make it clear where I stand.”
“Yeah,” she managed. Her lips tingled, and she could still taste the coffee he’d had with breakfast. And something else. “Did you have cinnamon rolls for breakfast?”
He grinned at her. “With extra icing.”
“Fucking fruit plate.”
“Go get changed,” he told her, laughing. “I’ll go get the equipment and meet you back here.”
“Take your time,” she told him, heading for the sliding door. “I suddenly feel the need for a shower.”
“Before snorkeling?” he asked.
“It’s not to get clean,” she informed him tartly and closed the sliding door on his delighted laughter.
Thirteen
On Monday morning she woke back in the real world, in her own bed, with the sheets cold and empty beside her.
“Nuts,” she muttered and shoved her way clear of the blankets.
The floor was freezing on her bare feet, even though the temperature was supposed to be in the high sixties for the day. Spring in Michigan was nothing like spring in Bermuda, and her toes could tell the difference.
She stopped at her dresser for a pair of thick socks, then made her way to the bathroom. After taking care of business and covering her feet, she headed for the kitchen.
She had thankfully had the presence of mind to set the coffee to brew automatically the night before, so it was already hissing and spitting out life-giving caffeine. She pulled a mug from the dishwasher she hadn’t bothered to empty before she’d gone on vacation and leaned against the counter, yawning, while she waited for the pot to fill.
The knock on her door made her frown, and she glanced at the clock on the microwave. Who would be at her apartment at six-forty-five in the morning?
She glanced down at herself. In addition to the socks, she wore the plain black cotton T-shirt she’d slept in—one of Shane’s. It had somehow wound up in her luggage by mistake, and she’d found it last night when she’d unpacked. She’d started to throw it into the basket with the rest of the laundry, then had given in to impulse and pulled it over her head instead.
It fell nearly to her knees, covering all the vital bits, so she walked to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Delia called back. “Open the door.”
Veronica flipped open the locks. “Why didn’t you just use your key?”
“Because my hands are full,” Delia replied and held out a to-go cup of coffee. “Here. I thought you might need this.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Veronica said reverently, forgetting all about the pot brewing in the kitchen.
“I know. I also brought muffins.” Delia walked to the sofa, rattling the paper bag in her hand.
“Coffee and muffins, before seven a.m.?” Veronica wrapped both hands around her cup and perched on the sofa. “And you got dressed to bring them to me?”
Delia snorted, her messy knot of blonde hair bobbing as she dug into the bag. “Please. These are my pajamas.”
Veronica’s eyes narrowed on Delia’s clothes, which, yes, seemed to be pajama pants with... “Is that Strawberry Shortcake?”
“Yep.”
“I didn’t know they made them for grownups.”
“They don’t. I found the fabric and had them made.”
“Of course, you did.” Veronica sipped her coffee. “To what do I owe the honor?”
Delia dug into the bag and came up with a muffin, fat with blueberries and glistening with sugar. “I’m bribing you.”
Veronica eyed the muffin with interest, suddenly very aware that she hadn’t eaten since four o’clock the previous afternoon. “Why are you bribing me?”
“Because I want to hear all about your vacation.”
Veronica reached for the muffin. “You don’t have to bribe me for that.”
Delia jerked it out of reach. “Ah, but I want the good stuff. The dirty, nitty gritty. No dirt, no muffin.”
“What dirt? There’s no dirt.”
“Oh really?” Delia gave her an arch look, still holding the muffin aloft. “Then why did Derek come to my house, ranting and raving about you joining a sex cult?”
Veronica’s eyes bugged out. “He did what?”
Delia nodded smugly. “Came right up to my front door, pounded on it until I let him in, then demanded I help him rescue you.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Veronica fell back against the back of the couch with a groan. “What an ass.”
“After he did some weed, he calmed down and told me the whole story.” Delia’s mouth curved into a small smirk. “Not that he knew he was doing weed.”
Veronica’s eyes popped wide again. “Delia!”
“What?”
“Tell me you did not drug Derek without his knowledge.”
“It was just one little brownie. What harm could it do?”
“Delia!”
“Oh, calm down, I’m kidding.” Delia waved a hand. “I offered, he declined. He had two fingers of Scotch and spilled his guts.”
Veronica glared at her best friend and snatched the muffin out of her hand. “Don’t do things that make me feel sorry for Derek.”
“You wouldn’t feel sorry if you could’ve heard the way he was ranting and raving about what a slut you are.”
“He did not say slut.”
“Oh, but he did.” Delia’s face was grim. “That’s about when Julian came in and threw him out.”
“Good for Julian.”
“But before he did, I got a couple of names out of him. Wyatt and Shane.”
Veronica set her coffee aside to peel the wrapper off the muffin. “So?”
“So, what’s the story?”
“No story.” Veronica shrugged. “I was having lunch with them when Derek showed up, acting like a maniac. The hotel asked me to come down, to see if I could get him to leave without calling the cops. Shane and Wyatt insisted on coming with me.”
“Good for them.” Delia nodded. “Then what?”
“Then, nothing. We went up to the hotel and told Derek to leave.”
Delia’s eyes narrowed as Veronica bit into the muffin. “And that’s it? I don’t buy it. Why does Derek think that the three of you were fucking?”
Veronica swallowed. “He kept insisting we could work things out—”
Delia snorted.
“—and I figured the easiest way to get him to scoot was to hit him in the ego. So, the three of us pretended we were fucking, and he got mad and left.”
“Pretended?”
“Yes, pretended. It worked, too. You should’ve seen his face turn purple.”
“I saw it when he came to my house. Frankly, I could’ve lived without the experience.”
“Join the club.”
“So, you didn’t sleep with Wyatt and Shane?”
“Nope.”
“Then why are you wearing a man’s T-shirt?”
Veronica chewed her muffin and tried to look nonchalant. “What?”
