Rule of Three (7 page)

“What are these? They look like flag poles.”

“They’re curtain rods, dipshit. Get with it.”

Chris glanced at him and they both laughed. Some of the hot tension eased out of Dag and he rose to his feet. “Where should I put this?” He held up the empty bottle loosely by the neck.

“I’ll take it.”

Chris disappeared into the kitchen, and Dag heard Kassidy’s steps. He turned. She walked in, cheeks pink, eyes sparkling but otherwise looking all put together and sleek. Her dark hair hung in a silky curtain to her shoulders and she wore a short purple dress that draped over her slender body. Hot.

She tugged at the hem of the dress and bit her lip. “Damn, this dress is short.”

“It looks great.”

Her eyes met his. Her eyelashes fluttered and her cheeks got even pinker. “Thanks.”

“Hey, you’re ready.” Chris walked back in. “You look awesome, sweets. I just called a taxi.”

Dag didn’t mention that he’d intended to drive. Now he’d have to somehow get back here tomorrow to get his car. Dammit.

“Did you see what I got today?” Kassidy asked Chris.

“Towels. Why’d we need towels?”

She frowned. “Yours are about a hundred years old, all frayed and thin.”

“Oh.” And Chris’s eyes met Dag’s in a masculine exchange of “whatever”. They grinned.

“Let’s go wait outside,” Chris said. Kassidy picked up a little purse and walked ahead of them on sandals that consisted of a spiky heel and a couple of thin straps across the top of her foot. More hotness. Hell.

Chapter Six

They walked into Kiss through a nearly invisible entrance at the end of a narrow alleyway just off Oak Street. A long staircase descended into a room lit with low red lighting from pot lights, antique light fixtures dripping with gilt and crystal, and candles everywhere, filling the air with a warm beeswax fragrance that mingled with expensive perfumes. People crowded the dance floor, moving to the drum beat of the DJ’s mix of bhangra and hip-hop.

“Looks like we’re the first ones here,” Chris said. “Let’s find a spot.” He led the way through the bar to several black leather and faux-leopard-skin sofas arranged in a small group around a low table.

Dag took in the eclectic surroundings, liking the cosmopolitan vibe of the place. Yeah, dammit, there were things about Chicago he missed. He sat on one of the black leather sofas, and Kassidy and Chris took a seat across from him.

“There’s Hailey,” Kassidy said. Dag shifted his gaze across the room to the artfully lit bar, with rows and rows of bottles stacked against the wall behind it glowing in the red lights. He searched for which bartender might be Kassidy’s sister, finally picking out a slender dark-haired woman in a constant whirl of movement, pouring, spinning, reaching for glasses. Her short dark hair was a spiky cap on her head, but even from here he could see the resemblance to Kassidy in her build, her graceful movements and the shape of her face.

A waitress clad in a short skintight black dress approached to take their drink order and Dag smiled up at her. She returned the smile with a wink as they ordered. Dag handed over a credit card so they could run a tab.

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Chris said. “You left without paying your bar bill this afternoon. You owe me fifty bucks.”

Dag looked at Chris, saw the glint in his eye and laughed. “I figured you wouldn’t mind picking up the tab.”

“For you and my girlfriend sitting and drinking all afternoon without me? Not fucking likely, buddy.”

Then they both laughed and shook their heads.

“There’s Jeff and Sara,” Kassidy said, waving a hand. Their friends began to arrive. Dag stood to greet the people he hadn’t seen for so long, with handshakes and hugs and smiles and questions. Everyone was finding a seat and milling around the area when Kassidy’s sister approached them.

“Hey, Kass,” she said. Her gaze narrowed in on Dag and he arched a brow and returned her smile. Again, he could see a family resemblance in the shape of her mouth and eyes, but Hailey’s face was thinner, her chin a little sharper, her eyes harder. Her smile held a hint of tartness instead of Kassidy’s sweetness. A silver stud pierced her left eyebrow and a diamond glittered on the side of her nose. “You must be Dag.”

Kassidy moved to stand beside Hailey. “Yes, this is Dag. Dag Spencer, my sister Hailey Langdon.”

Hailey fastened her eyes on him and extended a hand, which he took. Interest heated her gaze. “Pleasure to meet you,” she said. “You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Mmm. Someone more like Chris, I guess.” Her smile deepened.

“What makes you think I’m not like Chris?”

She moved closer to him, into his personal space. “Just an impression I get.”

He laughed. “I’m guessing you’re not like Kassidy either.”

Her smile turned sly. “And what makes you think that?” She turned his words back to him.

“Just an impression I get.” He arched a brow.

Now she laughed with appreciation. “Yeah, Kassidy’s a good girl. Boring, but good.”

Boring? Whoa. That wasn’t a word he ever would have used to describe her, albeit he’d only known her a week. He flashed a glance Kassidy’s way and saw her mouth tighten. “And you’re not good?” he asked Hailey.

“I’m good at some things.” She set her hand on his forearm and leaned even closer into his personal space, so close he could smell the spicy scent of patchouli. Strangely, patchouli had always given him a headache and he felt the faint throb begin deep in his head. But he smiled at her because she was Kassidy’s sister. She slid her hand higher on his arm. “Very good. But…sometimes I’m a bad girl.” Her voice went throaty.

Jesus. Subtlety wasn’t part of her makeup.

“So, how long are you in Chicago, Dag?”

“I’m not sure.” Earlier in the week his plan had been to get the hell back to San Francisco, but now he had this great idea he wanted to explore and Kassidy was the perfect one to help him with some of it. Then he’d had to listen to them fucking on the other side of their bedroom door and once again his resolve had changed to getting away from them. Christ, he didn’t know what the hell he wanted, what he was doing. “Depends on business, I guess.”

“I could show you around town,” she said. “If you’re interested.”

“I might be.”

Then he caught sight of Kassidy’s face as she watched them flirting—and the crease in her brow and the tightness of her pretty mouth.

She should have known Hailey and Dag would hit it off. They seemed to be two of a kind—a bad boy and a self-professed bad girl, both of whom seemed to effortlessly attract attention from the opposite sex. Yeah, they would have a lot in common. Why that sent a shaft of pain slicing through her, she had no clue.

Kassidy tipped her mango martini to her lips and took a big gulp. Sweet coolness washed down her throat. She forced a smile. “Are you on a break, Hailey?”

Hailey didn’t even look at her, no surprise with a gorgeous guy standing right in front of her. “Yeah. So, Dag…”

Kassidy moved away to let them talk, for a moment alone in the crowd, her stomach tight. She searched for her anchor—Chris. There he was, over talking to Cole and Tyra. She made her way over to him.

He glanced down at her as he talked, smiled, slid an arm around her to rest his hand on her hip. A feeling of security eased the stiffness inside her a little. A feeling of knowing she was loved and wanted. She had that with Chris, always.

Why did it bother her that Hailey liked Dag? Or did it bother her that Dag liked Hailey? Her eyes fell on them across the room, still talking, laughing, and that tension returned, gripping her body.

But Hailey’s break couldn’t last forever and a few minutes later she returned to her place behind the bar. Dag’s attention turned to their friends. As the evening went on, she overheard him talking, “business meetings” and “San Francisco’s great” and “nice to be back”, as he moved from group to group. And it wasn’t just their friends—a crowd of women formed around him, beautiful women. All the while he looked so damn gorgeous and sexy, hair falling into his eyes, his black T-shirt—not just an ordinary T-shirt but some kind of silky expensive fabric—stretched across his taut body, tucked into just the front of his black pants, a gleaming belt buckle riding low. He looked dark and dangerous and exotic.

“I need to sit down,” she told Chris awhile later, her feet starting to hurt in the strappy heels she wore. She lowered herself to the soft leopard fabric of a couch. Chris sat too, and she was glad. She snuggled up to him, winding her arm through his, and sipped her drink.

“Having fun, Kass?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Mmm. Yeah.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Good. Looks like Dag is too.”

“Yeah.” She wanted to ask if he’d seen Dag and Hailey together, but couldn’t get her voice to form the words. Dag’s familiar laugh carried over the music, now an African-funk blend, primal and rhythmic, as he flirted with the girls surrounding him. She felt the music inside her, like another heartbeat. Her body pulsed against Chris’s.

When Dag lifted his head and his eyes met hers across the room, she turned her face to Chris and kissed the side of his neck, his skin warm and fragrant. Chris made a low noise in his throat, rested one hand on her bare thigh where her dress had ridden up. Her pussy ached. She wanted him to slide his hand higher.

They were in a nightclub surrounded by people. What the hell was she thinking? She swallowed. “I think I need another drink,” she said in Chris’s ear.

He drew back and smiled at her, his hand still warm on her leg. “Want me to get you one?”

“Sure.”

He got up and moved toward the bar, and she could still feel the weight of Dag’s gaze on her without even looking at him. When she did turn her head slightly, their eyes once again met and held. And held. And…held.

He lifted his drink to his mouth and slowly sipped, never taking his eyes off her as some girl chattered beside him.

Oh Jesus. What was happening? She was filled with all kinds of rampant, reckless feelings that she couldn’t even identify, except she knew the dominant one was lust. Analyzing that just made her skin tighten up, though. She took a deep breath and crossed her legs, not bothering to pull her skirt down, wanting Dag’s attention on
her
, not some nameless pretty stranger.

She turned her attention to watching other people in the bar, and it was a good place for people watching. Couples danced in sexy abandon on the dance floor, including one female couple, both of them young and pretty and dressed in short skirts and skimpy tops. Kassidy watched as they touched each other, danced closer, mesmerized by the sensuality of it.

When Chris returned with her drink, she guzzled down half of it then said, “Let’s dance.”

He took her hand as they walked onto the dance floor and they shifted into the rhythm of the music, moving together. He set his hands on her hips and they watched each other’s faces as they danced. Then Chris’s gaze drifted off to the side and she followed it. He was looking at those two girls, still dancing together, bodies now pressed together, back to front, the girl in back sliding her hands over the hips and stomach of the girl in front.

She glanced at Chris’s face, went onto her tiptoes to speak into his ear. “I thought two girls didn’t excite you.”

He smiled. “It’d be hotter if one of them was you.”

Her eyes flew open wide. “What!”

He grinned and pulled her closer.

“You want to watch me and another girl?” she asked incredulously.

His breath tickled her ear. “Watching you with anybody would be a turn-on.”

Holy crap. How did she not know this about him? Kassidy pulled back to look into his eyes. “Really?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled but he held her gaze steadily. “Really.”

Heat suffused her body. She didn’t know what to say. Chris was so…straight. Did he expect her to make that kinky fantasy come true? Or was it just that—a fantasy?

The music changed and without saying a word, they left the dance floor and returned to their couch. She picked up her drink and downed the rest of it in three big heat-quenching gulps. Oh god.

“I’ll get you another one,” Chris said with a knowing smile.

She sat there in a bit of a daze until the sofa dipped beside her. She turned quickly, thinking it was Chris back already with her drink, but it was Dag. His dark intent eyes fastened on her face. “How’re you doing?”

“Good!” She gave him a bright smile. “You? Having fun?”

He shrugged, sipped his drink again—Scotch? Probably.

Chris returned with drinks. He couldn’t sit beside Kassidy because Dag was there now, but she didn’t want him to sit far away on another couch. Then Dag shifted away from her, pulling her with him so there was room for Chris on her other side. She took her drink from Chris, shoulder-to-shoulder with big, warm maleness on both sides of her.

Other friends came and sat too, and they all talked and laughed while Kassidy tried to ignore the achy fullness in her pelvis.

After a while, Dag said, “Come dance with me, Kassidy.” He set down his drink and rose to his feet. He held out a hand, and she looked at Chris, who smiled and nodded. She took Dag’s hand and followed him back to the dance floor, feeling a little like she were being led down a dark downtown alley at midnight, nerves fluttering in her tummy and her pulse leaping.

They moved to the music, a throbbing Latin drumbeat. Dag was a good dancer—of course—nothing flamboyant, but he knew how to move his body with an athletic grace. She let herself absorb the music, let it move her body, never taking her eyes off his face. When the rhythm slowed and merged into a slower song, he slid his hands over her waist, hips, around almost onto her ass. His heat enveloped her, the scent of his sultry aftershave filled her head as she slid her arms over his shoulders. Their hips moved together to the beat of the music.

Sex.

It felt like sex. Liquid heat slid through her body and pooled between her legs.

She bit her lip and looked over to where Chris sat. He’d crossed one ankle over the other knee, one arm stretched out along the back of the couch, looking so big and handsome and watching them.