Page 3 of Dangerous

My eyebrows rose at that announcement. With the end of the school year bearing down, Peter usually refrained from cooking, having Jarrod or Jason or I take over that task since he was putting in long hours at either the school or marking papers at home.

“I had a late meeting at the office, only finishing before picking you up,” Jarrod answered my unspoken question as he pulled into their driveway.

A glance over to my dark house as I exited the car left me feeling disheartened. It looked so sad and lonely with the faded paint that was starting to peel. Mom never talked about money, preferring to tell me not to worry, that there was money and benefits set aside for university, but with all the extra hours she worked and the lack of upkeep on the exterior of the house, it made me wonder. Maybe financial pressures were another reason why she allowed me to get the job. Asking her wouldn’t give me an answer, but I wondered if she’d said anything to the guys. Maybe they’d tell me if I asked.

“What has you looking so sad?” Jarrod snagged my hand, entwining our fingers as he pulled me towards their house.

I shrugged even as I squeezed his hand, needing his comfort. “My house looks sad.”

As soon as he had us inside the house and the door closed behind us, he spun me to face him, cradling my cheek in the palm of his hand. “I take you to the garden centre tomorrow and we’ll grab some new flowers and plants. That’ll brighten it up.”

The offer had me swooning, but it was the sweetness of the kiss he placed on my lips that had my knees buckling. This was why I couldn’t help but fall in love with them. Each one of them always jumped to help fix whatever problem I had. And when they couldn’t or shouldn’t fix them, they stood beside me, coaching and cheering me on. To the outside world it might have looked like something older brothers would do—and for many years, before the kissing, I worried the same—but thankfully that wasn’t the case. They all loved me even if we hadn’t completely said the words yet.

“I’d like that,” I said against his lips before he took control, pressing his lips harder against mine as he tilted my head. The moment I parted my lips, his tongue was there, pushing in even as he pressed me up against the door. I slid my free hand up his chest, feeling the softness of his cotton dress shirt and thesilkiness of his tie. Each hidden muscle laid bare under my fingers.

Between school, work, my mom, my friends, and Jarrod’s work, we’d been ships passing in the night or surrounded by people who couldn’t know about us, making this kiss a welcome reunion, a coming home. And while I hated missing out on kissing him whenever we were together, this one made up for it. It made my body want more, like the time we were on the couch together and he gave me an orgasm. I could feel my body pulse and heat up in remembrance as his mouth and tongue continued to ply mine.

I wanted more. I wanted to feel his hard body against mine. I wanted his hands to touch me, not stay on my cheek and holding my other one.

He kissed me until I forgot to breathe, becoming light-headed, incapable of speech during those few seconds his lips left mine to allow me to snatch some needed oxygen. Or maybe that was just my normal response to these types of kisses because I couldn’t think of if or how I ever managed to speak other times I found myself in this exact predicament. But I must have spoken, right? Or how did they always know what I wanted, what I needed?

And to prove my point, Jarrod slid his hand around the back of my head, slipping his fingers in through my hair. A few strands pulled, making me wince at the sharp pain at the same time as his tongue drew a moan from me. The dual sensation confused me. How could I feel pleasure at the same time I felt pain?

But before I could spend any time trying to puzzle it out, the sound of a voice clearing their throat had Jarrod pulling back, resting his forehead against mine.

“Supper’s ready and getting cold.”

At the sound of Peter’s stomping retreat, Jarrod cringed. “Guess we better go face the music before he salts our food.”

My eyes widened. Peter wouldn’t do that, would he? Yet even as I questioned it, I recalled a few stories where Peter did things in a similar vein to Jarrod and Jason when they displeased him or when he wanted to get them back for something they did. I might have been spared before, but now, I wasn’t so sure my luck would hold. A chuckle fell from Jarrod’s lips. “Relax, Kitty-Kat. He wouldn’t do something like that to you.”

He pressed a fleeting to kiss against my lips, raising my hopes for more and then dashing them as he released his hold on me. But as he started towards the dining table, he called over his shoulder, “At least I don’t think he would.”

Glaring as I raced by him, he laughed. And even though I worried about having upset Peter by kissing Jarrod, hearing Jarrod’s joy made me happy.

3

Peter

Istomped over to the table, adjusting my hard dick before dropping into my chair at the head. Why did I have to see them kissing? Wasn’t my life already fucked up enough? Obviously not or I wouldn’t have been feeling such a mountain of conflicting thoughts.

Things were finally settling down between Jarrod, Jason, and me. People had become accepting of the new, open relationship between Jarrod and I, recognizing us as a couple. We weren’t being hit on nearly as much from women who’d heard about our previous exploits or those we’d slept with. Not that we usually went back for seconds with the latter anyway, but it usually didn’t stop them from making a play in case we didn’t have any other viable options for that night. This despite how I went off the rails a little bit a few weeks ago during Winnipeg’s last play-off hockey game of the season and went looking for some women to hook up with while out with Jarrod. At least Katy’s—well really Jason’s since I hadn’t been answering—panicked call put an end to event before I made a horrible mistake.

Even the rough patch between Jason and I had been worked out. I think he’d finally forgiven me for the horrible mistakes I made last summer. Although there was still one item I needed to discuss with them, but that I’d deal with later. Once I knew more.

So why was I so pissed off seeing Jarrod kiss Katy? It wasn’t like I didn’t know about them. Or like I hadn’t kissed her myself. But for the first time ever, I felt… jealous… possessive. Of Katy. I’d wanted to rip Jarrod away from her and that’s something I never felt before. Sharing a woman between us wasn’t new, we’d done it a few times over the years, and I’d never felt jealous. Never cared if I was the one standing back, watching. Even the first time I saw Jarrod and Jason kiss Katy; I didn’t have this reaction. That reaction had been more angry, angry that they’d gone there, that they’d crossed that line, putting us all—especially me—under a microscope.

Yet even as jealously washed through me, what Jarood was doing, the noises she’d made had my dick hard as a steel pipe. I’d wanted to join in, to help pull those sounds from her as I tasted her.

It had been too long—and yet, not long enough—since I held her in my arms, had my lips on hers. Just that one touch, that one taste, and all my fears came true. I was addicted to her. She was the only female I wanted. But wanting her that way was dangerous. Until she turned eighteen—preferably until she graduated—we—I—needed to be careful. One wrong move and I’d be looking at life through bars…prison bars. And that wasn’t something I wanted.

Soft arms snaked around my body as my nose filled with the special lavender-vanilla scent that Katy always wore. She pressed her cheek to mine and my ire fled. She was like my own personal Xanax when she touched me like this. All my problemsdisappeared, and calmness filled me. Too bad that wasn’t the only thing that filled, forcing me to adjust my legs.

“Thank you for making supper.” The movement of her cheek against mine as she spoke had me stiffening to keep from turning and kissing her. My chest hurt as I held my breath. I didn’t need her thanks even though normally, at this time of the year, I would have either ordered in some food or picked it up, but I’d wanted to cook… for her. A way to take care of her like she did me, us.

Just as I was about to give in and kiss her, she moved, pulling away, allowing me to finally breathe normally.

“Come on, Kitty-Kat. Supper smells amazing.” Jarrod helped her into the seat near me before pressing a swift kiss to my lips, allowing me to taste her lingering flavour on his. A soft groan left my lips. When he pulled away, he winked, knowing what he’d done.Ass. And a nice one, too,I thought as I watched him walk past Katy to sit beside her.

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