Page 35 of Sharing Shane

“I don’t believe this,” Derek sputtered.

“Why don’t we all go to Wyatt’s room?” Veronica suggested silkily, ignoring Derek’s look of jaw-dropping disbelief. She shifted to wrap her arms around their waists, tugging them both closer. She looked up at Shane. “I could use a nap.”

“A nap?” Shane rumbled, his lips twitching as he turned to face her. He laid his hands on her hips and turned her, nudging her backward until her back bumped up against Wyatt’s chest. Wyatt’s hands came up to hold her by the shoulders, and the gleam in Shane’s dark eyes made her shiver. “You think you’re going to get to sleep?”

The sound that slipped from her lips had nothing to do with the show they were putting on, and everything to do with the heat flooding her body. He was standing so close that the skirt of her dress snagged on his shorts, and Wyatt was a solid wall of muscle behind her. She licked her lips, shivering when his eyes tracked the movement. “You have to let me sleep sometime,” she managed.

“Yeah, Shane. Have a heart,” Wyatt put in. He slid an arm around her, his palm flat on her belly, and tugged her back so her back pressed to his chest, her ass to his groin. His breath skimmed her ear and made her skin break out in goosebumps. “Can’t you see she’s tired?”

“Fine.” Shane took another step forward, so close now his hard thighs brushed hers. His hips rolled, a subtle flex that wasn’t quite a thrust but close enough for her to tell that his thighs weren’t the only thing that was hard. Heat flooded her face, and she knew her cheeks were probably glowing. The sexiest smile she’d ever seen curled his lips and he raised a hand to cup her cheek. He stroked his thumb over her mouth and almost sent her into cardiac arrest. “We’ll do all the work.”

Dimly, she realized it was her turn to say something. Shane was looking at her expectantly, Wyatt had tensed behind her, and Derek stood mere feet away, his mouth still open as he made noises like a constipated goat. But her mind had gone blank, all thoughts burned away by the look in Shane’s eyes.

If he was acting, the man was absolutely wasted making furniture.

Then there was Wyatt, looming behind her, his big hand still splayed on her belly only inches above her pussy, where all hell was currently breaking loose. She was trying to ignore the fact that her butt was pressed right against his pants, and she was really trying not to notice that his pants were pressing back. Here she was sandwiched between two gay men who, if her senses weren’t playing tricks on her, both had serious wood happening.

Was it for her? Each other? Did they both have some kind of odd improv fetish? What the hell is going on here?

“Veronica,” Wyatt said, his breath skimming over her ear, his tone just questioning enough that she knew he was checking in, but it was also so drenched in lust she went a little dizzy, swaying in his hold. His hand tightened on her belly, the heat of it almost searing through the thin cotton of her dress, and she let out a whimpering moan that if she’d been in her right mind would’ve embarrassed the hell out of her.

In her current state, she couldn’t have cared less.

The sound had a galvanizing effect on all three men in the room. Wyatt’s hand tightened even further on her abdomen, tugging her more firmly against him. Shane’s eyes narrowed, his fingers shifting to cup her jaw as he began to lower his head.

And Derek shouted, “What the fuck is going on?”, jerking her back to reality and killing the mood.

Mostly.

Shane turned his head slowly, the look on his face not boding well for Derek’s continued good health. Veronica was half tempted to step back and see how this played out, but she realized she just wanted him gone.

“Go away, Derek.”

“Yeah, go away,” Wyatt echoed, still holding her firmly, and turned to glare at her ex-boyfriend. “You’re not invited to my room.”

Veronica bit down on her lip to kill the laugh as Derek’s face went fire-engine red. Shane’s expression didn’t change, his hand still cupping her face. “I think that makes it unanimous.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Bye.”

“I don’t believe you,” Derek said, ignoring Shane to focus on Veronica. His breath was puffing out in outraged huffs, his eyes filled with outraged disbelief. “I don’t believe you’re...you’re...” He waved his hand in the air as if he could magically conjure the words. “Doing that with them.”

“Doing that?” Wyatt’s low chuckle made her hair flutter. “What is he, twelve years old?”

Veronica shrugged. “I don’t care if you believe me. Go home, Derek.”

“I can’t believe I flew down here to try to get back together with you.”

“I can’t either,” Veronica snapped, sick of him. “I kicked you out of my apartment, changed the locks, and gave away all your shit. What the hell made you think there was ever a chance we were getting back together?”

His eyes bugged out. “You gave away my stuff?”

“Everything but the unopened face creams.” She sent him a sunny smile. “I returned those to Nordstrom’s and bought this dress.”

“Nice,” Shane rumbled, and she smiled up at him.

“Thanks. You don’t think it’s too plain?” She glanced down at the simple, unadorned black. “Delia thought it needed sparkle.”

He shook his head. “You’re the sparkle.”

She blinked, and even though she knew he was just playing his part, melted a little. “Wow.”

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