Page 40 of Sharing Shane

“I’m trying to help,” Wyatt muttered.

“Give it up, Wyatt.”

“You’re wasting an opportunity,” Wyatt protested.

“Then it’s wasted,” Shane said, exasperated. “Can we go eat now?”

Wyatt eyed him thoughtfully. “Maybe you want to go find a truck to push up a hill first. You seem like you have some energy to burn off.”

“Fuck you,” Shane said mildly and turned for the door. “You’re buying lunch.”

“I still say she’s down there taking care of business,” Wyatt muttered as he trailed after Shane.

Shane merely reached back and slapped the side of Wyatt’s head.

“Okay, okay, I won’t bring it up again. Say, I wonder if the restaurant has warm peach pie on the menu?”

Shane just kept walking, Wyatt’s laughter ringing in his ears.

Veronica sat on the warm sand and watched the sunset, the vibrant pinks and oranges slashing across the sky as the glowing ball of the sun sank slowly into the ocean. It was gorgeous, the most breathtaking sunset she’d ever seen. And a damn shame, because she barely noticed any of it. Her thoughts were where they’d been all day—on Shane, Wyatt, and the hottest moment of her life that had been interrupted by her dumbass ex-boyfriend.

She sighed and rested her chin on her updrawn knees. After she’d fled the conference room, she’d run back down to the cottage and immediately pulled out the little battery-operated accessory Delia had so thoughtfully packed for her. When she’d unpacked and found it, along with a note from Delia, she’d been annoyed at her friend for tucking it into her suitcase without telling her. How she’d gotten through TSA without it being flagged was beyond her, but after her brilliant little brainstorm—hey, how about I make my ex think I’m banging these two ridiculously hot guys, that’ll make him go away without a fuss and won’t blow up in my face at ALL because they’re gay, cool!—she’d made good use of Delia’s gift.

Twice. Then she’d taken a shower and made good use of the adjustable, handheld shower wand.

Even now, with her vagina pleasantly sore and her lust sated, she couldn’t stop thinking about those moments in the conference room. The heat of Wyatt’s hard, muscled body behind her, Shane looming in front. His hand on her face, the scrape of his calloused thumb over her mouth. If Derek hadn’t chosen that exact moment to start squawking, he would’ve kissed her. And she would’ve let him.

She closed her eyes with a groan and resisted the urge to beat her head on the beach. It was too soft to knock some sense into her, and she’d just have to wash her hair again.

She’d thought he was gay. She’d thought they were both gay. When the idea came to her to pretend that she was sleeping with them, it had seemed harmless enough. Nobody wanted to hang around and watch their very recent ex canoodle with a new lover—much less two of them—so what better way to convince Derek to leave? Both men had fallen in instantly with the plan, and it had been working beautifully until her hormones had gotten in on the action.

“Asshole hormones,” she muttered. This was all their fault. By the time Shane had lost his patience and escorted a squawking Derek out of the room, she’d been a tangled mess of arousal and confusion. She’d hoped to play it off as exceptional acting—I was just playing the part really, really well, it’s not like I’m wildly and inappropriately attracted to you and your lover, two gay men who are being nice enough to help me out. That would just be silly!

But she hadn’t fooled Wyatt. If she had, she doubted he’d have felt the need to correct her assumptions about their sexuality.

“Bi,” she muttered to her knees. They’re both bi, and their relationship wasn’t monogamous, and if the erect penises were any indication, they both seemed to be attracted to her and what the fuck was she supposed to do with all of this information?

Her hormones had cast their vote—she didn’t think she’d ever masturbated three times in a single day in her life, much less three times in as many hours—but her brain was still struggling to wrap her mind around Wyatt’s little truth bomb.

She shifted to stare out over the water, glowing now with the reflection of the setting sun. So, okay, if jumping Shane’s bones turned out to be an option, she wasn’t going to be mad, exactly. Confused, but not mad. And, despite her vagina’s very clear opinion on the matter, she was also going to be cautious.

She had no idea what the parameters of Shane’s relationship with Wyatt allowed, and she wasn’t going anywhere near either of them until she knew more. Having just been cheated on, she had no desire to switch roles and suddenly become the other woman.

“This is complicated,” she told the ocean.

“Then you should probably have a drink,” the ocean said back, and her mouth dropped open in shock. Then she realized Wyatt was standing four feet away with a couple of frothy pink drinks in his hands.

He sent her a dimpled smile, the breeze ruffling his hair. “How’s it going?”

Well, I thought the ocean was talking to me, so there’s that. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward. “Brought you a drink.”

She automatically took the glass and he dropped down beside her. He was wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts and sunglasses, the wide expanse of his sleekly muscled chest on display. Her pussy gave a little twitch in response, and Veronica sighed.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she told him, and mentally admonished her vagina. You’ve gotten all you’re getting tonight, my girl, so settle down. “Why are you bringing me drinks?”

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