Make Me (19 page)

“I was naked on your dining room table. I think that’s pretty out of control, don’t you?”

Kyle shook his head. “No, sweetheart. You had all the power there. Pure lucidity. Total composure. A real good orgasm doesn’t allow you to have any of that.” He cocked his head to the side. “When was the last time you had one?” She started to speak, and he pressed his finger to her lip. “Uh-uh…with someone else in the room?”

He watched her conjure the most indignant look she could muster, rubbing the scar at her collarbone, something he’d come to realize was a gesture of self-consciousness.

“Kyle, exactly why are you asking me this?”

Kyle smirked. Not the reaction she was looking for, but fuck it. “I don’t know. Maybe because you need asking.”

“Mystery Girl likes being a mystery,” Manny said lazily and took a deep breath from her hair. He’d slipped free of her, rid himself of the condom with motions that looked nearly automated, even to Kyle. His still rigid erection nuzzled her clit.

Kyle tore his eyes from the sight and raised his eyebrow at her, waiting.

When she shivered, Manny wrapped his arms around her automatically. “Come on, tell us.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me admit this.” She grimaced, looking like the words tasted sour in her mouth. “Before last week with Manny, never.”

Manny’s eyebrows knitted together. “Oh shit, baby. Really?”

“Don’t make me feel like a charity case.”

Manny settled a cluster of nibbling kisses at her shoulder. “Believe me, I only want to make you feel good.”

Kyle flashed his snarkiest grin. “Hey, I just want to know if you’re accepting donations.” He stole a nip at her ribs, getting her to giggle despite the vulnerable press of her lips.

Manny stroked her hair, speaking softly. “It scares you, doesn’t it? Coming undone.”

That sentient tone wasn’t something Kyle was used to hearing from his gunner copilot. He watched Manny dismantle the wrecked ponytail hanging loose on top of her head. The care he took to drag his fingers through her tangled, wavy strands pulled at something from an unknown recess inside Kyle’s heart. It was a tender sight, a sweet gesture Kyle took for protection and maybe even understanding.

“You can trust us, you know,” Kyle said, feeling those same uncommon sentiments flood him too.

Manny caught Kyle’s gaze, and Kyle saw approval there. “Hell yeah, you can.”

Resting against Manny’s chest, Rebecca didn’t seem convinced. The hard swallow weighing on her slender throat broadcast her secret fears.

Manny turned her head toward him, capturing her chin in his hand. “Remember the song? Norah said no more regrets.”

Manny had been speaking to Rebecca, some private message that Kyle didn’t quite understand. But, Kyle was reminded of what he’d almost lost when he walked away from Manny. No more fucking regrets. If he never felt that quaking void in his gut again, it would be too goddamn soon.

He lowered himself to Rebecca with his hand finding the back of Manny’s head. “No regrets. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Kyle hadn’t meant to take her mouth so hard, but, oh fuck, the fire behind that kiss was blazing beyond his control. She slid her hands up Kyle’s chest, and her arms fell around him, draping from his neck like a silk scarf. Her soft murmurs of delight raised the temperature inside of him even further.

Kyle needed more. He tugged Manny’s head toward them, abandoning Rebecca’s lips only to take his best friend’s with all the thunder raging inside of him. His banishment from the pleasure of Manny’s body had gone on for far, far too long. It was no one’s fault but his own, and that was the biggest regret of them all.

Rebecca remained where she’d been since her climax, settled neatly on top of Manny, his arm slung low on her belly. It didn’t stop Kyle from locking onto Manny’s shins and yanking them both down to the edge of the bed. He pushed Manny’s knees between her legs and up against her soft breasts. Then Kyle nudged his cock at the tight spring-locked hole with his name written all over it.

He toyed and poked, a rush of anticipation rising from his toes. His eyes flicked upward, fixed on the way Manny’s lips curved in a soft, surprised O.

Raspy words clawed their way out of Kyle’s mouth as he nodded to his left. “The night table. Top drawer.”

Manny yanked on the handle, the articles inside grating against the bottom as they skittered forward under the force. He found another condom and the lube Kyle had stashed with the singular hope of finding himself inside of Manny again.

Manny didn’t speak, but Kyle knew he wanted him to take his ass hard and fast. They’d never required many words between them to satisfy each other’s cravings.

Manny took a sharp breath as Kyle pressed into him. The weight of his cock in Manny’s ass was welcome and familiar and so fiercely missed that Manny choked on the only words that could possibly sum up his churning emotions. He knew exactly how Rebecca had felt—undone, exposed. Kyle made him feel that way every minute they were together.

That hollow popping sound, unique to the slapping of flesh against flesh, crowded the air like applause. Until he and Kyle started hooking up in Afghanistan, Manny had never been on the receiving end of a good fucking. Kyle always took him hard, like a Marine takes everything, and while Manny normally held on to the nearest solid surface, this time he held on to Rebecca.

Clutched to his chest in a bear hug, he held on to the person who had brought smiles back to his face, who had restored the hope that his heart wasn’t irrevocably smashed to bits. Riotous locks of Rebecca’s thick, wavy hair settled across his face as she rocked with him in the onslaught. The burn was sweet in his ass, the place Kyle had claimed as his. Rivers of pleasure coursed through him despite the months of celibacy that had left him virginal, despite the rebellious thought lurking in the undercurrent.

He’d trusted Kyle and gotten hurt.

Kyle’s thrusts grew more forceful, and then he took hold of Manny’s cock and pumped him hard, twisting his wrist in a motion that would milk Manny of his second orgasm without fail. With his hips pinned against Manny’s ass he threw back his head, sucking in a long hiss of air through his bared teeth. “Ah…Manny, fuck…I love you.”

Was it that simple? Manny wanted to lose himself in the perfect control Kyle had over his plundered body. He wanted to free-fall into the sensations washing over him. Lightheaded from the building orgasm, anything seemed possible and everything felt right.

“Come for me,” Kyle barked.

Manny’s balls tightened as he showed Kyle the obedience they’d both come to expect when he had Manny on his back. He came in long, hot spurts, striping Rebecca’s breasts and stomach.

Kyle chased the tracks Manny left on her with his tongue winding up with a self-satisfied smirk shining down on both of them. “And…my job is done.”

Manny reached around Rebecca, hooking Kyle by the neck and dragging him to the mattress next to him. “Done? Fuck that. I’m done with done. No more ‘done.’”

Kyle chuckled, sweeping his thumb against Rebecca’s cheek, driving it across her jaw, and toying with her bottom lip as she traced the tip with her pink tongue. He had a wink for her and then a kiss before his eyes flashed Manny’s way once more.

“You’re right, man,” Kyle said with a whistle. “We’re so far from done.”

Chapter Thirteen

Petite Fours might have made the best pastries on the island of Manhattan, but their java couldn’t hold a candle to the Italian coffeehouse around the corner from the library. After the way Manny kept her awake half the night, Rebecca desperately needed a double cappuccino from Luciano’s. Kyle had been upstate the last two days at the lake house, working the country club circuit for votes.

Rebecca checked her watch and yawned, thankful for the fifteen minutes she had to secure her caffeine fix and still get to her desk on time. The glance at her wrist meant she caught sight of her hand and the fingers attached to it. A shiver coursed through her body thinking of the way Manny wrapped his lips around each of them as she fed him bits of super-fudge brownies. He’d held her wrist still as his tongue swirled around the tips before sucking each one deep. Rebecca thought she’d never get tired of staring into his hazel eyes, hooded with lust.

They’d toyed with each other the entire night. With her in her nightshirt and Manny in his boxer briefs, they’d sat on his futon and flirted like horny teenagers pushing the boundaries before they got caught. Manny’s tongue took the long way around every inch of her body, savoring her in a way that she’d never experienced. Standing in line for her turn to order, Rebecca got lost in the memory of the sweet nips and kisses he placed everywhere at least twice. The way his lips softly caressed her skin was both erotic and chaste. When it was Rebecca’s turn to bless him with the same, she’d felt an ache for more, but the prospect of sex seemed somehow untouchable. There was a line that now ran the length of their mutual desire that began and ended with Kyle Hunter.

Manny began to stroke himself with a wicked grin. He placed her hand against her sopping panties. She didn’t ask why he only wanted to watch her masturbate instead of finishing her off personally. She didn’t need to, because she felt the same way.

A familiar voice behind Rebecca brought her out of her daze: “Better get one for Craig. You know how cranky he gets without his coffee.”

“Chaya!” Rebecca threw her arms around her sturdy ex-colleague and surprised them both with her sudden burst of sentiment. Rebecca brushed at Chaya’s mussed neck scarf and then dug her hand into her own pocket. “You’re still coming here,” she said and then wanted to kick herself for how it sounded.

“They still have the best cappuccino,” Chaya answered, flipping her tight, black ringlets out of her face. “Anyway, I like coming here to write.”

“You’re working on your novel. That’s great, Chaya.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like I have the ‘no time’ excuse anymore.” Chaya laughed her signature snort, and Rebecca realized she missed her lots.

“Any luck with the job search?”

“No, but Craig told me about your scheme to get our department funded again.” Chaya grabbed Rebecca’s hand and pulled her to a table before pointing at the seat opposite her. Chaya had always scared Rebecca a little, with her sharp tongue and tough-girl-from-Brooklyn demeanor. Rebecca sat down because she knew what was good for her. “And what’s this I hear about you dating Dragon Lady’s son’s best friend?”

“I, uh…” Rebecca cursed Craig silently and his love of gossip along with him. “We haven’t been dating long.”

Chaya smiled at her and nodded. “From the way you’re blushing, I can tell the polish hasn’t worn off yet.” Chaya sipped her coffee. “So is he as smoking hot as his friend?”

“Hmm?” Rebecca said, blowing on her coffee, trying to will the blush from her face.

“The congresswoman’s son. Total Captain America type.
Yum-meee
.”

Rebecca blinked at Chaya. Never had she imagined those words coming from her colleague’s mouth. Maybe she didn’t really know her. Maybe she’d never tried to. “They are equally gorgeous, believe me.”

Now it was Chaya’s turn to pause. “OK, spill it.”

“What?”

Chaya gave her a long look right down the length of her sloping nose. “You’re leaving something out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chaya leaned across the table. “Listen, I’m at home all day long alone with two goldfish trying to keep my mind from turning to mush. The most interesting part of my evening is checking my kid’s algebra homework. Have a heart and let me in on the juicy bits, will you?” Chaya giggled—actually freaking giggled—and Rebecca found it contagious.

“I might also be seeing his friend at the same time.”

“Kyle Hunter?” Chaya said louder than seemed reasonable.

Rebecca tamped her down with both hands. “Shhhh. I don’t want the entire world to know!”

“So you’re two-timing him?”

“No, no. It’s like…a ménage.”

Chaya’s expression turned to one of delight. “Holy shit, Rebecca, you’re living every woman’s fantasy.”

“It kind of just happened.” Rebecca said, looking for a way for it to sound less tawdry.

Chaya wiped her mouth with a napkin and sighed. “Just when I thought I couldn’t hate Little Miss Sunshine anymore.” She winked at Rebecca.

“That’s so not who I am.”

“Yeah? Guess I never got the chance to know the real Rebecca Sinclair.”

Rebecca pressed her lips together and found it hard to look directly at Chaya. The invites to join her colleagues for drinks after work had always gone unaccepted. Rebecca realized she hadn’t been asked in a long time. They’d heard her say “maybe next time” so many times, they probably started to think it meant never. Rebecca wondered if that was the truth of it, because in the moment, “next time” always seemed like a safer bet than worrying about fitting in all night. “Sorry. I don’t really do well with making friends.”

“Well, if you’d like to have coffee sometime, my calendar is pretty clear.” Chaya pointed at the clock on the wall. “Hey, you’re going to be late.”

“Oh damn.” She grabbed up her bag and her still piping hot cup. “It was great seeing you.”

“You too, Rebecca.”

At the door, Rebecca turned to watch Chaya pull her laptop from her bag and begin to type. Somehow, she didn’t look as scary.

Rebecca made it to work on time, without a minute to spare. The list of prospects in her inbox was a mile long. It was noon before Rebecca had a reprieve from the phones and decided to check her personal e-mail. She studied the words on her computer screen and frowned at them. The message read,
I’m patient enough to wait for the Dow Jones to drop two hundred points, but you’re really testing my limits. What gives? —Wil.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. Wilson was like an open sore that threatened to get infected. She needed to set him straight.
I’m sorry. I’m…
She paused.
Dating someone.
She frowned some more at the words she had written. That wasn’t exactly the whole truth, but was she really about to tell Wilson that she was dating two guys? She sighed and pressed Send anyway. It was the best she could do.