Crossing the Line (3 page)

She tipped her head back and smiled at him. “Of course I’ll say yes to that. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you haven’t heard the rest of it. I want to invite somebody to join us.”

“Oh.” Not what she’d imagined when she showed Derrick the private resort’s website, but it’d still be fun. Maybe they could sneak out to the pool and skinny-dip in the moonlight, grab some alone time. “Well, I guess I can share you for a weekend.”

A laugh burst from his mouth. He put his hard-earned muscles to use and shifted her to a straddle position that allowed her a view of his ruggedly handsome face.

She cupped his jaw, stroked the blond bristles of his goatee. “Whether we’re alone or part of a group, I’ll be with you, and that’s all that matters. So, were you thinking of asking John and Tina? Tina and I can overload on treatments at the day-spa in town while you and John do the golf thing. Then, when I’m all prettied-up, you take me to the shops and buy me something ridiculously overpriced that I totally deserve.”

“Baby, you don’t need spa treatments to be gorgeous. And you deserve a hell of a lot more than I’ll ever be able to give you—at home or in some fancy store.”

And here came her guilt, galloping to the forefront. She’d made him feel like a loser. About the past. About being a tradesman instead of a polished professional with a six-figure income. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You know I don’t care about money or things, and the rest…I’m at peace with, really.”

“Yeah.” One hand threaded through her hair, cupped the back of her head and drew her forward for a deep, soft kiss that ended way too quickly. “And your suggestions sound like a good time, but it’s not what I had in mind. I meant we should invite one person to join us. A guy, and not so I have a golf buddy.”

What? Oh god, his comment in the kitchen. He couldn’t possibly mean it. Not seriously. “Then why invite a guy along?” She strung the words out, carefully and slowly, as if each one were a potential bomb.

“For you. I won’t lie, though, it’d be for me too.”

“Y-you want to be with a man?”

Derrick’s sky-blue eyes bulged, and he shuddered. “No. Make that a giant
hell no
. It’d be for me because watching your body move and the expressions on your face, hearing the sexy sounds you make when you’re getting off—those things turn me on more than anything in the world.” Proof of his statement rubbed her through his shorts. “And I know the idea of being with two guys at once turns
you
on.” At her nod, his eyes darkened. One hand slipped under the edge of her robe, his fingers walking up the inside of her thigh with deliberate slowness. “Only the truth between us, always, right?”

“Yes,” she whispered, another pang of guilt stabbing at her for fibbing in the bathroom.

“If you’re into it—and only if you’re into it—I want to invite Jeremy to join us for a weekend at that resort.”

“You what?”
Oh god, oh god. Where was this coming from all of the sudden? Had he read her mind somehow, did she talk in her sleep—was it that obvious she was attracted to his best friend? She scrambled to get off his lap. Not happening. Derrick’s strong hands kept her securely in place. One hand on her hip ensured her core remained pressed onto the hard ridge in his shorts. The other held her chin, gently yet firmly, forcing her to look into his eyes. So much passion there. So much love.

She swallowed dry air, only able to whisper when she finally spoke. “What did you have in mind?”

* * * * *

You around? Have time for a beer after work?

Jeremy tapped a reply while waiting for the red light to change.
Got back earlier today. When and where?

Derrick’s text popped up immediately.
Finishing up on a site. Thirty minutes. JT’s Roadhouse?

Sounds good. See you there.
The car behind him honked as he hit send. Jeremy flipped his middle finger at the rearview mirror, chuckling as the attractive woman in the sporty coupe behind him returned the gesture through her front window—while smiling. Playful, then, not bitchy.

All right. If he hadn’t just committed to meeting his buddy, he’d engage the cute redhead in some more eye contact and see if he could get her out of that car and into his bed. He honked and hit the accelerator. Another time, with another woman.

Pretty rare thing, hearing from Derrick during the week. He and Derrick had always been close, remaining tight through the years despite their very different lives. While much of Jeremy’s time went to commuting, jetting across the country and around the globe on business, Derrick usually spent his non-work hours close to home with his wife. Maybe Hanna had plans and Derrick was grabbing the opportunity to hang. Or maybe shit was brewing. His friend’s marriage seemed impenetrable, but looks could be deceiving. Nobody knew that better than him.

The Hummer’s steering wheel squeaked under his clenched fists. He’d signed away his wife and day-to-day life with his son almost a year ago. Fucking bullshit, that. He still didn’t understand exactly what’d gone wrong. Probably never would.

He pulled into his driveway faster than necessary, just for the jolt of slamming on the brakes. Thinking about Viv always stirred him up. Some ways good, others not so much. He’d loved her, worked his ass off to give their family the best of the best, been one hundred percent faithful despite the blanket of frost she’d thrown over their bed—and it hadn’t been enough. Fuck that shit. He wouldn’t wish the stabbed-in-the-heart feeling on anybody.

Inside the house, he ditched his suit for jeans and a tee. He did a half-assed job of making the bed, then checked the nightstand drawer. Two condoms left, enough should he happen to meet somebody later. Sex, not love. All he needed from here out.

* * * * *

Jeremy spotted Derrick’s motorcycle the second he pulled into the parking lot. His buddy hadn’t wasted any time getting here. Jeremy found a spot, then headed toward the front door.

“Hey, Jer, over here.” Derrick’s voice and extended arm stopped Jeremy before he reached the building. “Patio okay with you?” he asked as Jeremy cut around some empty tables.

He dropped into one of the dark-green, plastic chairs. “Sure, I’m easy.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“True. Jealous?”

Derrick grinned. “Nope. Not in the slightest.”

“Bullshit.”

“No B.S.” Derrick tipped a bottle of Coors Light to his lips and drained its contents. He pushed the empty aside and signaled the waitress for two more, then slid his cell phone across the table. “Not when I have this waiting for me every single day.”

“Holy shit.” Jeremy knew he should look away, that Derrick probably meant to show him a picture of Hanna in a dress or maybe a bikini, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the phone. Hanna looked up at him from the screen, a sex-kitten smile on her lips as she peeked over her shoulder. But it wasn’t only her pretty face holding him captive. Hell no.

Her ass was front and center, a tiny pink thong barely covering the essentials as she posed doggy-style for the camera—and her husband. “She’s gorgeous, but I think you pulled up the wrong picture.” Mercifully, the phone disappeared into Derrick’s palm. “Sorry for staring.”

“S’okay. And you’re right,” Derrick double-checked the display before handing it over again, “I meant to show you this one.”

“Christ, D, how many beers have you had?” His buddy had to be half-tanked to be showing him this—Hanna, on her knees, wearing nothing but those same pink panties, her red-painted fingertips covering little more than the nipples of her incredible rack. The shot put most centerfold pics to shame. Maybe because of the genuine emotion in her eyes and smile. Maybe because he knew her, how great she was in real life. Either way, fuck.

“Just that one Coors. Totally sober over here.” Derrick’s reply yanked Jeremy’s attention from the photo he should
not
be looking at.

Silently finding your best buddy’s wife hot was one thing, ogling naked pictures of her—courtesy of her husband—that was goddamn surreal.

Jeremy turned the phone facedown as their server arrived with two bottles of beer. “I got this.” He pulled his wallet from his jeans and paid the waitress, then pushed the phone toward its rightful owner. Alcohol wasn’t really his thing, but he took a long pull anyway, buying time.

Derrick matched the pace with his beer, his eyes never leaving Jeremy’s face. Gauging him? Something was going on. Hell if Jeremy knew what it was, though.

Derrick drank and waited. Even grinned a little. But say something that’d explain what’d just happened? No. Only, “You look sort of freaked out.”

“You showed me naked pictures of your wife, man.”

“And what’d you think?”

“I think you’re lucky I’m not going to tell Hanna about your moment of temporary insanity, or she’d have your nuts on the chopping block.” He pushed his half-full bottle to the middle of the table and leaned back in his chair. “Want to tell me what the fuck is going on with you? Everything okay on the home front?”

“Yeah, nothing new or bad to report.” Derek polished off the rest of his beer. Instead of motioning for the waitress, he twirled the empty bottle on the table. “But there is something I want to talk to you about.”

“Sure.”

“I want to give Hanna something. Something I know she’s wanted for a long time.”

“Yeah? Good for you guys.” He reached over and issued a congratulatory punch to the shoulder. “You’re going to love it, you know. Nothing better in the world.”

Derrick’s eyes narrowed. He even waved off the waitress.

“You weren’t talking about giving your wife a baby.”

“No.”

Well, shit. “Sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. I know you love the being-a-dad thing and Luke is a great kid. I like being his honorary uncle, but I can’t do more than that. You know where I came from, how I’d wind up treating a kid of my own.”

No point in rehashing that argument again. Jeremy had tried repeatedly, but no amount of talking had convinced Derrick he could break the Sutter family mold. Too bad. Derrick would make a great dad, whether he believed it or not.

Jeremy settled against the patio chair, using its hard plastic ribs to scratch a spot in the middle of his back. “So what’s the thing—diamonds, a trip to Europe, a puppy?”

“A threesome.”

If he’d had anything in his mouth, it’d be two tables over now. “Fuck off. Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Derrick’s index finger tapped the back of his phone where it rested on the table.
Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

The pictures. Derrick wanting to talk to him about something. No fucking way. “Holy shit. You’re asking
me
, aren’t you?” And there it was, the nod. “You need to give this some serious thought, D. About a year’s worth, minimum. Don’t jump in dick first, use your brain. Your heart.”

“I have. I am. Things are great between us, but sometimes she gets this faraway look in her eyes, especially around her birthday. I don’t have to ask, I know what it’s about, but that’s off the table. This is for her, Jer. To make her other fantasy come true. If it’ll make her happy, I want to give it to her, you know?”

Yeah, he got that. He’d tried giving Viv everything—fancy house, money in the bank, a family—she’d left anyway. Life and love didn’t come with guarantees, and this plan of Derrick’s could blow up spectacularly. Jeremy would be a shitty friend if he didn’t point that out, no matter how much his cock liked the idea of getting naked with Hanna.

“Counseling might be a better option than a ménage.”

Derrick barked out a single laugh. “We took the therapy route three years ago. We’re good. I know it in my gut. She could’ve left me back then but she didn’t, and thank fucking god for that because I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

“Let’s roll with that theme. Say you do this threesome thing. You really think that when the moment comes, pardon the pun, you’ll be okay letting somebody else touch Hanna? Watching your wife get wild with another guy? Because once it’s done, it’s done, no going back. It could fuck up your relationship permanently.”

“It won’t. Not if you’re the third.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a credit to my loyalty or an insult to my masculinity.” The insanity of it all made him laugh hard enough to draw attention from a pair of good-looking women a couple tables over. He snagged his beer, saluted, and took a swig. “You and Hanna have discussed all the details, including the part where I’m the one walking into your bedroom?”

“Yeah,” a massive grin slid into place, “several times.”

“Shit, I’ve seen that look before.” And envied it. His buddy had scored big-time on that long-ago night. If Jeremy had won the coin toss in the bar a decade ago, they wouldn’t be having this fucked-up conversation. Because if he’d won the chance to hit on Hanna, if he’d been the one to land her, he sure as hell wouldn’t share her.

“Well?” A couple of swipes and taps later, Derrick pushed his cell across the table. “What should I tell her?”

Looking was a mistake, yet the phone was in his hand, inches from his face. He should’ve known it’d be another explicit picture. Okay, truth—he’d hoped it would be. But this—Christ.

“Go ahead, play it.”

A video. Of Hanna. What was one more mistake? He tapped the arrow in the center of the screen. The clip started innocently enough. As innocent as it could be with Hanna wearing only those pink panties. She wasn’t covering her tits this time and they were goddamn spectacular. His mouth literally watered at the sight of them. She waved and giggled, managing to look beautiful, sexy and sweet all at once. His best friend’s
wife
, for crying out loud. Something he needed to remember.

“Hi, Jeremy.” Her soft voice drifted through the phone’s speaker. “I hope we’ll um…see you soon.” Another giggle, then the video stopped. A personal invitation. For him.

Reluctantly, he passed the phone back. “Tell her I’ll be there.”

Chapter Three

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this. No, scratch that. I can’t believe
Derrick
is going through with this.”