The Sextet - Dirty Dancing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (19 page)

BOOK: The Sextet - Dirty Dancing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
10.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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“Take a shower, Laynie.” He stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Bang!
The back door. He followed the noise, flinching with each step. Hell, if his dick was any harder, it’d be a damn pole like the one she’d danced around.

In the mudroom, he looked out the window as he pulled on his coat and gloves. Reese stood near the utility shed, the axe raised over his head. The blade swung downward to split through the log on the ground. Splinters scattered. Another swing. More flying wood chips. Again. Reese wasn’t pissed. He wasn’t angry at all. He was hurt. Brand couldn’t blame him.

Bracing himself against the cold wind and the bitter reception, he went outside to talk to his brother. More than a brother. His best friend. The one person in the world he knew he could always count on, and he’d betrayed him.

Tugging the collar up around his neck, he slogged through the drifts to the shed. “Reese. I’m sorry. It just…happened. I handed her a towel, and my hand rubbed against her tit. The next thing I knew, we were kissing and her clothes hit the floor. I didn't mean for it to happen.”

Reese lifted the axe, brought it down to decimate the only wedge left of the log. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Damn it. Yes, it does. Your feelings matter to me.”

Reese balanced a new log on the bed of wood chips. “But not to her. You won. She chose you. Now leave me the hell alone.”

Thunk!

“I didn’t win anything.” Brand stuffed his hands in his pockets, wishing he could erase that five minutes of pure heaven.

Thunk!
“You didn’t want to have the conversation with her.”
Thunk!
“You’re in love with her.”
Thunk!
“She kissed you and let you put your hands on her.”

He couldn’t deny any of it. “You’re in love with her too.”

Reese dropped the axe and whirled to face him, a fist ramming forward to connect with Brand’s jaw. He never took his eyes from Reese’s distorted expression on the fall into the snowdrift. The blatant disregard of their agreement to talk to Laynie deserved a worse punishment than a punch to the face.

“Shut the fuck up! And don’t tell me how I feel.” Reese jerked around, facing the shed.

Rubbing his gloved hand over his throbbing jaw, Brand shook his head. “You poor son of a bitch. You can’t even admit you love her. You’re ready to explode because another man touched her, but you don’t love her. You keep telling yourself that. Maybe someday you’ll believe it.”

“Fine. I love her.” Flinging his arms in the air, Reese turned, the pain evident on his face. “You happy? I’m in love with a woman who wants somebody else.”

Damn, he shouldn’t have pushed. Everything had changed. His carefree brother wasn’t carefree anymore. Neither of them would ever look at each other the same way again. Brand hated the shutters that had shot up the moment Reese had admitted the truth. The openness between them was gone, the bond damaged, maybe beyond repair.

* * * *

Julayne ignored the cold, straining to hear Brand and Reese’s conversation. The wind carried their words as well as snow through the gap at the back door, stinging her bare skin.

Thunk!
“You’re in love with her.”
Thunk!
“She kissed you and let you put your hands on her.” Reese had spoken. His usual teasing tone had disappeared.

“You’re in love with her too.”

Too?
They were both in love with her? Her heart skipped a beat. She chanced a peek out the window. Reese stood with an axe hanging at his side. He dropped it then swung his fist. Holy crap! Brand’s head shot backward, and he vanished into the snow. Her breath caught in her throat. Was he hurt?

“Shut the fuck up! And don’t tell me how I feel.” Reese had never sounded so…distraught.

Damn it! They were fighting over her? She had caused this division? Forget the damn shower. Time to go home and regroup. She hadn’t expected their closeness to be a casualty of her indecisiveness.

Closing the door, she grasped the towel to keep it from falling on the floor. She hurried upstairs, tugging on her clothes and gathering her belongings. Tears stung her eyes, but she focused on getting the hell out of there before she was forced to face them. A listen at the top of the steps told her they hadn’t come inside yet, so she aimed for the front door while she slipped one arm into a coat sleeve. She managed the other after she stepped off the porch and onto the snow-covered sidewalk. Pulling on her gloves, she jogged three blocks north and four blocks west, running into the gusting wind. Snow blew in the loose flaps of her scarf, melting down her neck. So fricking cold.

Her side cramped and her lungs burned as she ducked in the main entrance of the Fernwood Apartments. Her icy fingers prickled from the sudden warmth.
Only six flights of stairs to go.
She climbed until her legs were ready to collapse beneath her. Finally she unlocked the door to hide in her apartment.

She shivered as she bolted the door and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Living room straight ahead. Chair. Table. Bedroom doorway.
Ah. Bed.
She dropped her bag and coat on the floor, kicked off her boots, then crawled under the blankets. Burrowing deeper into bed, she pulled the covers over her head to conserve heat—although if she froze to death, she wouldn’t have to deal with trying to choose only one Hilliard brother. She wasn’t about to come between them. She’d caused enough damage by kissing Brand and letting him cop a feel. Oh, what a feel it had been. The man knew how to kiss. Did Reese kiss like that? Were his hands calloused and his hair silky too? Would she be wrong to ask for equal time and touch from the other twin?

Yes, you stupid fool.

Shivers wracked her body. How could she consider making the situation worse by pitting them against each other? She should text them to let them know she had left. Well, probably not
them
. Most likely Reese wouldn’t want to speak to her after what she’d done.

Pushing away the blankets, she reached over the side of the bed for her bag. Her phone wasn’t in the usual inside pocket. It must’ve bounced free during her retreat. Her fingers closed around something rectangular. Her phone.

Decided to go home. Made it safely.
She tapped in Brand’s number then hit
S
end. There. She’d done the responsible thing. They shouldn’t worry, or fight, anymore.

She set the phone on the nightstand and settled against her pillow. Closing her eyes, she willed sleep to come, but tactile sensations distracted her. The feel of Brand teasing her nipple and caressing her ass. His finger had brushed over her anus to glide toward her vagina. Her body shuddered, remembering the white-hot bolts of desire shooting from breasts to clit to womb. God, she would’ve orgasmed within seconds if Reese hadn’t interrupted. But he had, and she would’ve gladly let him touch her, too. How did one woman find enough room in her heart for two men? Now, they’d all suffer for her selfishness.

She blew out a frustrated sigh. Too horny and confused and achy to rest. She reached for the nightstand drawer. If she couldn’t have the real thing, she’d have to make do with Trusty Ted. Her hand closed around the smooth cylindrical vibrator. Batteries? Yes. Two AAs.

Less than minute later, Ted buzzed to life. She pressed him to her sweatpants, tracing the seam from ass to clit. Her palm cupped her unbound breast through her sweater. Tremors rippled through her. She imagined Reese—dark-haired and dark-eyed—and Brand—blond-haired and blue-eyed—as she tweaked her nipple and rubbed Ted over her damp pussy. Even the thick fleece didn’t block the vibrations.

Make me come, Reese. I love when you go down on me. Lick my nipples, Brand, and finger my ass. I want both of you to touch me.

The fantasy brought a flood of sensation. Her vagina contracted, and her clit pulsed. She flicked her nipple, igniting the flames of an orgasm. Heat rushed outward from her shuddering core to her fingertips and toes. Her heart raced, and she panted through her stifled moans. Then the tears started. She couldn’t have them both. Even having one meant the end of their friendship, not that she hadn’t already messed up her camaraderie with Reese. Damn, she’d ruined everything.

* * * *

Reese stared at Brand through the puffs of fog in front of both their faces. His heart hammered from the release of frustration. His brother sat in a foot and a half of snow on the ground.
Damn.
He’d punched Brand in the jaw. They’d wrestled like any normal pair of siblings, but they’d never fought. And certainly not over a woman. Not that Brand had hit back. No, he’d only held Laynie in his arms and kissed her.

“I’m going to tell her it was a mistake.” Levering up out of the snow, Brand started walking toward the house.

Which was worse? Brand and Laynie together or Brand denying himself the woman he loved because of his brother? Reese followed. “The hell you are! Why should we both end up miserable and alone? Don’t you dare fuck up your shot with her.”

Almost to the back door, Brand stopped and looked over his shoulder. “No. I’m not taking that chance at the expense of yours.”

“You stupid bastard. She didn’t give me a shot. She gave it to you.” That fact hurt, but he couldn’t change it. Maybe someday he’d get over her. “I’m serious, Brand.”

“So am I. I won’t sacrifice my loyalty to you for her.” He stomped up the steps and into the mudroom, closing the door. His silhouette moved in the frame of the window sash for several moments then faded.

Jesus, he was stubborn. Tromping through the snow, Reese returned to the woodpile. He’d chop logs until his arms couldn’t lift the axe, then fill the box by himself. When he went inside to bed down on the couch, he wouldn’t do anything but sleep. No thinking. No wondering what if he’d been the one to get towels for Laynie. No dreams. Hopefully his brother and their guest would already be asleep—and not together.

He hefted the axe.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk
.

His shoulders ached from overuse. Hell, he’d spent most of the day repairing a plaster ceiling. He shouldn’t have split and stacked half a cord of wood. Balancing half a dozen split logs on his forearms, he carried the load to the house. Only three more to go, since Brand had somehow wormed his way out of helping.

Dumping the last armful in the wood box, Reese tugged off his gloves and coat, hanging them on the hooks by the door. He put his wet boots side by side on the mat. He stopped in the kitchen for a bottle of water before he gave up on stalling. Tromping to the living room, he kept his eyes on the fireplace. He ignored the gaze boring into his back. If Brand had something to say, he’d say it eventually. Where was Julayne?

Brand paced to the window. “Laynie hasn’t come down from her shower. I think she’s upset because you saw us.”

“Why would she be upset? Embarrassed, maybe. She
was
naked, after all. I don’t suppose you got blankets for everybody? Shit. We still need to carry down a mattress for her.” Walking to the staircase, Reese rubbed his right shoulder. “Come on. I can’t haul the thing down here by myself.”

“Damn it. The firewood. I was going to grab a load. You did it all.”

“Yeah, so move your ass before I decide to throw the damn mattress down the stairs.” Not waiting for Brand, he headed for the spare bedroom. Hell, maybe he’d sleep up here instead of on the couch, avoiding the awkwardness. “You know what? Never mind. Laynie can have the couch. I’m going to bed.”

Footsteps sounded on the steps. “You aren’t sleeping in your fucking bed tonight. Quit being a pain in the ass.”

“I was born that way. I’m not changing now, so fuck off.” Following the hallway, Reese slammed into his room. Yanking down the blankets, he crawled onto the mattress, hoping his brother gave him the space he needed. After months of attraction, the rejection had ripped a hole in his gut.

He closed his eyes and let the cold distract him. His shoulder tightened as the warmth dissipated from his muscles. God, he was going to hurt like hell in the morning. Everywhere.

Bang, bang, bang!

“Reese!”

What now?
Rolling out of bed, he stomped toward the door. “What the hell do you want?”

“Open up! Laynie’s gone!”

His heart jumped to his throat. She’d left in this snowy mess? When the whole town was without power? She was smarter than that. “Shit. Did you check the spare room? Maybe she went in there to dress after her shower.” He jerked open the door. “You look up here. I’ll go make sure she didn’t sneak downstairs to the library while we were outside.”

BOOK: The Sextet - Dirty Dancing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
10.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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