Page 4 of The Forbidden Trio

“Pull yourself together, girl,” she scolded herself quietly. “They don’t really have handcuffs.”

Did they?

Fuck.

“Just… wait there, Paul. I’ll be right out.”

“Good, ‘cause we’re heading to Tahoe and you’re coming with us.”

She scrambled to run another towel through her wet hair, squeezing out the excess water. “I am not coming with you!”

“Sugar, that’s how kidnapping works—you have no choice in the matter.”

She could hear the humor in his voice, but her pulse was still hammering. There was no way she could spend the weekend at the lake with Paul and Noah. In one tent, no doubt. There was no way she could lie there listening to them having sex. Watching them having sex.

“Oh, God.”

She pulled in a breath, trying to calm herself.

“What was that, Jess?”

“Nothing! Nothing. Just… hang on a sec.”

“Don’t keep us waiting too long—we plan to leave in the next twenty minutes. I hope you’re ready.”

He had no idea how damn ready she was. Ready to take him into her bedroom, strip him down and shove him onto her bed—especially if there were handcuffs involved. To straddle him and ride his hard cock. She’d seen it once when he’d crashed at her place after a night dancing. He’d come out of the shower—oh God, this same shower!—a towel wrapped around his lean hips. When the towel fell off, her jaw dropped. He was so big, so perfectly formed.

She groaned quietly and swallowed hard.

Jesus, girl, get it together.

“Um… be right there. I need to throw some clothes on.”

“No need for clothes, sugar.”

Oh, Jesus. If only he weren’t joking.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly dried herself, the nubby fabric making her nipples draw tight as she rubbed it over her sensitized skin. But God, she was naked, and he was in the next room with his undoubtedly gorgeous friend. The fantasies rushing through her head with the speed of a finely tuned Porsche were making her pulse spike in her veins, in that heated place between her thighs.

She could drop her towel and walk out there. They’d be surprised, at first. Then they’d both smile, pulling her into their strong arms as they stripped their clothes off. Male flesh and more male flesh pressed up against her, one of them kissing her mouth as the other swept his lips and tongue over her heated skin. Hands on her breasts, searching fingers finding her wet cleft. Kisses and small bites on the back of her neck before they lowered her onto the floor…

She let out a small moan. “Oh. My. God.”

She shook her head at her reflection in the mirror. She was flushed, her small nipples hard, a dark shade of pink. Her green eyes were glossy, her pupils dilated.

“You can’t go out there like this,” she told herself in the mirror. “Just calm the hell down.”

She spent a few minutes rubbing her favorite cherry blossom-scented lotion into her skin, then combing her long brown hair out. She could hear music playing from the other room, some classic rock. Paul loved the old rock bands: Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Aerosmith. She loved that music, too. It reminded her of her childhood, that time before her dad died and life got complicated. Before she started looking to all the wrong men to replace him.

“Don’t think about that now,” she told her reflection as she reached for her short, sapphire blue silk kimono robe hanging from the back of the bathroom door.

She drew the fabric around her, tied the belt at her waist and went into the living area.

“Hey.”

Paul looked up from her big, overstuffed sofa, where he was lounging with his arm around Noah. Beautiful stranger, just as she’d expected, his tan, blond beauty a sharp contrast to Paul’s dark hair. The artist in her couldn’t help but see what a pair they made, taking in the dissimilarity in coloration and muscle, the contrast of light and dark. She would love to sketch them together. Among other things.

Paul stood, towering over her. “I’m glad you’re already showered, ‘cause you’re coming with us. You just need to get dressed and throw a few things in a back pack.”

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