Best I Ever Had
Best I Ever Had
by
Wendi Zwaduk
Wounded Hearts
Sapphire Nights
Copyright © Release 2014, Wendi Zwaduk
Best I Ever Had
Media > Books > Fiction > Romance Novels
Category/Tags: Erotic Romance, Erotica, ménage, light spanking, anal sex
Digital ISBN: 9781622371273
Original Digital Release: March 10, 2013
2
nd
Edition Revised Digital Release, June 12, 2014
Editing by Shelby C. Madison
Cover Design by Calliope-Designs.com
All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work, in whole or part, by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal and forbidden.
This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings, and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental.
This edition is published by agreement with Turquoise Morning Press, a division of Turquoise Morning, LLC, PO Box 43958, Louisville, KY 40253-0958.
DEDICATION
Thanks to the panel for believing in me.
Thanks to the TMP Family for the warm welcome.
SM—Thanks for the help on this—much appreciated.
JPZ—You’re the best I ever had…always.
Table of Contents
BEST I EVER HAD
The objective—keep her safe. No one said anything about falling in love.
***
All she wanted was a pint of ice cream, not to be a witness to a double murder. Good thing Emma’s got not one, but two, sexy men willing to keep her safe. As long as she can keep her hands to herself.
Sam’s mission? To find the man responsible for the murder. He’s not going to rest until the streets are safe, even if it means having his best friend guard his best girl. It’s the best option, right?
Quint never dreamed he’d be attracted to his best friend’s wife…and his best friend. He’s got to keep his hands to himself all while figuring out what he wants from life, even if love equals Emma and Sam in Quint’s bed.
Is love in the cards or are they going to go up in flames before they get started?
Chapter One
“It’s always hotter than hell right before the sun goes down.” Emma Rhodes tugged the hem of her tank top. No amount of shifting would get the air moving between her shirt and her body.
“I don’t want to be hot,” she muttered. “I don’t want to be in hiding, either.” She turned her back on the sliding doors. “Aren’t you tired of this, Quint? We live together because Sam wants to keep me safe. How crazy is that?”
“Em, it won’t be much longer. Trust Sam. I do.” Quinton Reynolds widened his stance at the front door. “He’s not here, but he does care. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“Thanks.” Emma threw her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. She loved Quint, but some days being alone with her roommate-slash-bodyguard sucked. She missed her husband, Sam.
“If you don’t behave, I’ll turn you over my knee and spank the sass out of you. Bet Sam would love to watch that,” he said with a wink and released her. “He’d watch and insist I make your ass nice and pink.”
She knew that mischief in his eyes. Sam and Quint always managed to find trouble. Protection or not, she didn’t dare doubt his words. If Quint wanted her over his knee, he’d have her and Sam would enjoy it. Hell, she knew more about Sam and Quint than they realized. Since the night she heard them making love on the couch, she knew they weren’t just friends. Seeing the men demonstrate their love for each other turned her on. Yes, Sam married her, but she’d always known about his bisexuality. When she first found out about Sam’s secret affair with Quint, she wanted to rip off his manhood but the more she listened to them she realized the love they shared. He needed someone else and Quint fit the bill. Great. Maybe someday they’d invite her to play with the both of them. She could only hope and fantasize.
A breeze twirled in through the open sliding glass door and tickled her back. She breathed in the sweet scent of the flowers on her balcony and an idea crossed her mind. She strolled into the bedroom and traded the tank top for her bikini top.
“Might as well be comfortable while I’m cooling down. God knows it’ll give Quint something to look at.” She stared at her reflection as she tied the strings on the top. Gravity hadn’t taken over yet and the girls still stood perky. Emma adjusted the triangles over her breasts. The slips of fabric revealed her pebbled nipples. She pinched one tight bud and the familiar rush of pleasure filled her veins.
Part of her wanted to close her eyes and continue with the good feelings. Hell, if she screamed, Quint would come to her rescue. But without Sam there, would he make a move? She doubted it. His talk was a façade to keep them both occupied. Quint loved Sam more than anyone and unless he learned the truth of her knowing about him and Sam, he wouldn’t screw up the bond.
Emma groaned. She’d used her battery-operated lover too many times of late and preferred not to screw up her life with a man she didn’t crave. She wanted
her
man—her husband—Sam. If Quint came along for the ride, all the better.
Emma blew out a long breath. Her man wasn’t going to come home any time soon, no matter what his best friend said. Not when Sam had work to do. She looked at her reflection once more. Work always seemed to come first. Deep in her heart she knew he couldn’t come home because he swore he’d spend every waking minute tracking the man who caused the loss of their baby. She gritted her teeth and walked away from the mirror. Staring at herself wasn’t going to get Sam home quicker, but being naughty might make the time go by a little faster. She picked up her favorite vibrator. Might as well do something fun.
Toy in hand, she padded into the living room and stopped. Something rustled. Emma tilted her head and turned the toy around in her hand. Quint remained on the couch with his ankles crossed, but his brows rose above the rims of his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Did you hear something?” she asked.
“No one’s here but you and me.” He nodded to the dining room table. “You heard the newspaper. Breeze caught it.” He stood and crossed the room to where she waited. “Going to use that on the patio? You do realize someone will see you sooner or later.”
“I’m not worried about someone seeing me. The balcony walls are high enough. They might hear me, but unless you’re coming out to give me a hand, I’m on my own.”
“You never asked.” Quint touched her cheek. “The three of us could have the best times. All you have to do is say the word.” He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip then strolled back to his position on the couch.
Emma tipped her head and mulled over Quint’s words. He wanted to fool around? What would Sam say about her allowing Quint into her bed, especially since she knew about Sam and Quint’s affair? She sighed. Even if she let loose with Quint and chanced Sam’s feelings, her situation wouldn’t change. Being in hiding sucked. No matter what she did, the fear never left. He watched her every move, but even the little come-ons didn’t push the anxiousness from her mind.
Nothing would erase the memories of that night. She rushed back to her bedroom and tossed the toy onto the bed. She scrubbed her forehead with the back of her hand and returned to the kitchen. The same familiar picture glared from his prime spot on the front page. Diego Morales, Cleveland’s top drug smuggler and gunrunner. Still loose, still dangerous and the prime reason she couldn’t leave the apartment.
Memories flooded her mind. A lousy run for ice cream to deal with her pregnancy cravings. She’d climbed into her car, ready to head home when something caught her eye and she shivered. At the time, she wasn’t sure what she’d seen. Now she knew the man in the shadows was Diego Morales. In the split second before she peeled out of the parking lot, she’d seen his face and the murder of two people. He shot up the store and peppered cars in the lot with bullets. His parting shouts echoed in her brain, “No witnesses.” Morales didn’t back down from anyone, especially not the woman who could put him behind bars for life.
The threatening letters started two nights later.
Talk and die.
I know who you are.
Sam vowed to nab the bastard and squelch the threats. He pulled every favor to put the best security team around her for protection. The fear ate her alive and the stress caused complications in her pregnancy. She miscarried two weeks later. The memory still stung. Her chance at motherhood was snatched by a bastard with a gun. Would she ever be free to live her life like a normal person? She doubted it.
Six months of waiting in hiding hadn’t eased her mind. Living in the gated community helped, but if someone wanted her dead, it would happen. Gates and armed guards didn’t stand a chance against a machine gun or whatever served as Morales’ weapon of choice. He wanted her to keep quiet, no matter what.
No toys or quickies with Quint would erase her pain. “Catch him so it’s all over.” Emma blinked back tears of frustration. “I want my life back.”
She touched the picture of Sam on the counter. Her heart squeezed in her chest. He didn’t have to go to the lengths he’d gone to for her.
I won’t risk losing you.
She sighed. What if she lost him in the process?
“I miss him, too.” Quint placed his hand on hers.
Emma bumped shoulders with him and wiped her cheeks. “I know. I’m glad you’re here. I’d be stir crazy alone.”
“Won’t be long, now.” He kissed her temple. “Promise.”
The words failed to comfort her. “If I’m not safe in the Leatherwoods, I’m not safe anywhere. Do you hear that, Quint? I’m done.” She shoved the newspaper into the recycle bin and headed to the refrigerator. Emma withdrew a half-empty bottle of rose wine. “If I want to sip a glass of wine on my balcony, then by God, I should be able to.” She nodded to herself and poured a generous amount into a wine goblet. “You can watch for all I care. I want to have a normal life again.”
She balanced the wine glass in her fingers and picked up a lighter for the citronella candles and her book from the table. She shoved the lighter in her back pocket and stuck her book under her free arm. Emma crossed the room and stepped through the sliding doors. The potted pansies fluttered in the slight wind. She dropped the book on the lounger and left the wine glass on the ground beside the chair.
“Seems like a nice time to take in some afternoon sun.” Shielding her eyes with her hand, she glanced around at the neighboring terraces. For a humid late July afternoon, no one seemed to be home and that suited her fine. “Looks like we’re alone, anyway.”
“You try my patience,” Quint growled. He plopped down onto the balcony railing. “Anyone with a good shot could take your ass out right now. Why are you chancing it?”
“I’m not chancing anything with you standing there ready to take the bullet,” Emma snorted. Six months of having someone watching her managed to kill her modesty. Sure, time spent in her bedroom meant time alone. Anywhere else in the apartment gave Quint ample view of what she did. Most of the time his presence didn’t bother her. He was Sam’s best friend. They shared everything—except her. So she enjoyed strolling to the kitchenette every once in a while in the nude? Quint, being the consummate good guy with a foul mouth, never acted on impulse. Sam alluded to wanting a threesome with her and Quint. Based on Quint’s reactions, she doubted the event would happen—the talk needed to evolve into action.
Whatever.
“I’m going to immerse myself in a book.” Emma knelt next to the citronella candles and lit all three. She placed one candle on the Parsons table beside her lounger and moved the wine glass up onto the same table. “Time to get caught up in the latest with Ned, Stacey, and Marlon.”
She stared at the words on the page, but didn’t really see them. Her mind wandered to thoughts of the past. When the first few threats showed up at her door, Sam insisted she go into hiding. He didn’t want the lives of others in danger if she went out about her business. Who wanted to harm the woman shelving books at the library?
Morales and his gang.
Once he got her behind closed doors, Sam admitted he didn’t want her in harm’s way. Morales confessed without a doubt he wouldn’t quit until he silenced the witnesses. He hadn’t lied. Images from the paper came to mind. The elderly woman buying bread. The teen with the hatchback. Neither lived a week past the robbery and original murders. Then again, once the talk in the papers faded, so did Morales’ fame.
