Muscling In (11 page)

Ed laughed at Coben flattening
in the sand, then scooted forward, speeding to send it back into the sky before
it hit the ground.

He made it and the ball went
so high I squinted as I watched it eclipse the sun. The ball held suspended for
a split second before plummeting back to earth. They both went for it, missed
their target but collided in a thud of thick muscle and broad chest.

“Ah fuck,” Coben shouted,
falling to the ground, a wide smile on his face.

Ed dropped to his knees,
laughing also.

A giggle tightened my stomach
and jiggled my breasts—two grown men, the weight of the world on their
shoulders, playing on a beach with a ball and having a great time.

Two men.

My men.

I shook my head. What the hell
was I doing? They weren’t my men. Well one was.

But it was all too easy to
imagine them both as mine.

I reached for a pack of cherry
tomatoes and popped one into my mouth. They were playing again, their limbs now
sand-coated and their cheeks red. Coben’s shorts had slipped low, showing off
the delectable indents at the base of his spine, just above the first rise of
his buttocks.

I licked my lips and reached
for another tomato. Had Ed kissed him there? Tasted the sweet saltiness of his
flesh in that perfect spot? I had, many times. I wouldn’t like another woman
to…but Ed? That was really fucking sexy.

My nipples were tingling,
their hard points pressing against my bikini top. Oh to have been a fly on the
wall when they’d been together. It would have been so sexy to see them…doing
it. Doing the things that men in love did together. Would they be wild and
rough or would they be sweet and slow? Did they have a preference for who gave
and who received?

I shifted on my lounger. The
need for sex, the need for an orgasm, was growing. I hoped Coben would be in
the mood for getting hot and sweaty later, with me, in bed.

For another twenty minutes or
so the men hit the ball backward and forward. They were covered in sand and
sweat and after rolling the ball my way, I saw Coben suggest a swim.

I picked up my book but found
rather than reading it I was peering over the top, watching them as they
plunged into the waves. They surfaced and Coben’s laughter caught on the
breeze. The sound headed my way, quickly followed by Ed laughing too as he sent
an arc of water over Coben’s head. A big splashing match ensued, the water
churning as they kicked and flicked water at each other.

Had they ever been able to
have fun like that before? Were all their memories of sneaking around and
keeping their time together undercover, censoring laughter?

I smiled as I watched them. I
adored seeing Coben so relaxed after his crazy week. Not just the last week,
when I thought about it, but for a few months now. Work was busy, which was
good but it meant he was going at full steam. He really needed his down time.
Relaxation was good for him.

Eventually they stopped
swimming and splashing and walked out of the sea and up the beach.

Fuck.

They were hot. Big, shiny
bodies, honed and toned in all the right places. Swimshorts clinging to their groins
and leaving little to the imagination. If I’d been turned on before, now I was
buzzing for it.

If only we were at home.

“Hey, you’re still awake?”
Coben said, grinning and walking up to me.

“Yes, I’ve been reading.”

He stooped and set a kiss on
the tip of my nose, dripping all over me.

“Hey,” I said, holding my book
out to protect it. “Watch it.”

He glanced at the drips on my
cleavage, then shook his head with vigor.

I was showered with seawater.
“Stop it!” I squealed, pushing at him.

He laughed harder and did it
some more.

The drips were cold on my hot
skin. “Coben.”

He straightened, fun glinting
in his eyes. “Couldn’t resist.”

I laughed and reached for a
towel. “I’ll get you back, when you least expect it.”

He swiped up two cans of Coke
and tossed one to Ed. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Ed caught it and
stretched out on the end lounger. He didn’t bother to dry off and his skin was
peppered with drips that sparkled in the sunshine. He took a long drink, set
the can aside, then settled back, hands behind his head, elbows out to the
side. He shut his eyes.

Coben opened his own can and
sat on the middle lounger. He looked over at me. “You okay, babe?”

“Yes, of course. You?”

“Yeah.” He looked thoughtful
for a moment. “Yeah, I really am.”

He reached his hand out and I
took it, gave it a squeeze. We didn’t need to say anything. I knew he was
thanking me for how I’d handled the situation, and I was letting him know I was
there for him, that I loved him. That whatever was happening between him and Ed
was fine by me.

He released my hand and
guzzled the rest of his drink. Like Ed, he rested back and shut his eyes. His
chest was still shifting faster than normal as he caught his breath.

A comfortable silence washed
over us and I was content to pick up my book and read as the men relaxed. A
gentle breeze blew through the whispering grass and the heat of the midday sun
seemed to quieten the distant crowds. The constant ebb and flow of the waves
continued and it wasn’t long before the sound of Coben’s slow, deep breaths told
me he was asleep.

I set my book down and sat,
needing to stretch my spine after sitting for so long. I glanced past Coben to
Ed.

I’d thought he was asleep,
like Coben, but he wasn’t. He’d swung his legs round and was sitting hunched on
the edge of his lounger, elbows on his knees, watching Coben sleep.

He saw me looking at him and
clasped his hands together.

“Everything all right?” I
asked quietly.

He nodded.

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Sian,” he said,
tipping his head and studying me.

“For what?”

“For getting it. Not many
wives would.”

“I’m not like the others.” I
twitched my eyebrows.

He grinned. “I can tell.” He
directed his gaze to Coben again.

I didn’t reply. I wondered if
he’d say more.

“I honestly never thought I’d
see him again,” Ed said, almost in a whisper. “I remember, that last time
we…were together. Watching him sleep, like this, and trying to take a photo
with my mind’s eye, something to remember when life got too damn ugly to want
to carry on, so that I’d have something special to pull me back from the edge
when I went there.”

Coben was indeed a very
handsome man. He’d certainly pull me back from the edge if I were in a dark
place.

“So now what?” I asked,
checking we weren’t disturbing Coben. His breathing hadn’t changed. He was
still asleep.

“What do you mean?” Ed
frowned.

“I mean what do you want from
my husband now that you’ve seen him again?”

“It doesn’t matter what I
want.”

“Of course it does.”

“No, we’re long since over and
now he’s yours, Sian. There’s no room for me. It’s about you two, your marriage,
your love and commitment. I’ve appreciated today. It’s been fun, but…”

“Why does there have to be a
but?”

“One thing I’ve learned.
There’s always a but.” He half shrugged.

“No, not here, not now, not
today.”

His brow furrowed as though he
was confused.

“The thing is, Ed.” I pulled
in a deep breath. “What if I’m willing to share?”

“Share?” He spoke a little
louder, then quickly flicked his attention to Coben to make sure he hadn’t
woken him.

He hadn’t.

“The thing is,” I went on,
“Coben and I are solid. What we have is built on good foundations, love, trust,
commitment and, well…there could be room for you too.”

“I don’t know.” He shook his
head.

“What don’t you know?” My
heart rate went up. Had I really just said all that?

“It could all go really fucking
wrong. I don’t want to be responsible for any shit happening between you two.”

Coben twitched his arm and
batted at a bug on his biceps. He opened his eyes. “Huh,” he said. “Bloody
flies.” He looked between us. “What?”

“We were just chatting,” I
said.

“About?”

“You.” I stood and dropped a
kiss on his lips.

“All good I hope?” He grinned
up at me.

“Of course.” I turned and
reached into the picnic basket. “Anyone want more food? There’s loads left.” I
started to place pots of dips and cakes and crisps on the blanket at the end of
my lounger.

“Yeah, I’ll go for some more
of those sausage rolls,” Ed said. “If there’s some left.”

“Sure.” I passed him a couple.
“Coben?”

“Crisps, please.”

I tossed him a pack and helped
myself to a cake with lemon icing.

As I ate I listened to the
men’s conversation about old colleagues. They chatted about Camp Bastion and
the state of the food there. The topic moved to weapons, then bikes, then
politics.

I finished my cake and rested
back. Before I knew it their deep voices were lulling me into a doze. My limbs
felt heavy, my skin the perfect temperature with the warm air stroking over me.
Their conversation grew quieter, their words molding together. My thoughts
became disjointed as sleep engulfed me.

I dreamed of the ocean, of the
sun and the birds soaring in the sky. I heard the grass singing as it swayed,
saw a wave of beach balls rolling down the beach, skittering in the wind with
children chasing after them. The balls turned to horses, galloping swiftly
through the water’s edge. I was mounted one, holding tight to the mane, loving
the feel of its power between my thighs, the excitement of speed. Eventually it
slowed. I dismounted and stroked its muzzle, my feet sinking in the deep sand.
The horse was speaking my name. “Sian, Sian…”

“Mmm…”

“Sian, wake up. It’s getting
late.”

A pressure on my shoulder. I
opened my eyes. Coben was above me. “What?” I asked, my throat a little dry.

“It’s getting late. Time to
pack up and head home.”

“Oh, okay.” I stretched and
yawned. My joints were stiff, my muscles a little tight. I must have slept for
ages.

“Here.” He handed me a drink.
“We’ll sort this lot out. You sit for a minute and come round.”

“Thanks.” I glanced at my
phone. It was nearly five.

“You went out like a light,”
Ed said, shaking a towel.

“I guess I was tired.”

“And relaxed,” Coben added,
shoving the ball away.

“Yeah. I guess so.” I sat and
watched as the men, quick and with military efficiency, packed everything up.

Ed piled two loungers onto his
back and loaded his arms and hands with bags and towels.

“Ready?” Coben asked. He too
was loaded like a pack horse. My only duty, it seemed, was to walk.

“Yes.”

He quickly folded my lounger
with his free hand and we headed into the dunes.

I glanced back at our little
spot. The sand was flattened and the shadow of a gull slipped over the smooth
spot the picnic basket had made. But other than that it was as if we’d never
been there. As if the momentous discussion we’d had, memories made, had been a
dream too.

But they hadn’t been a dream.
I knew that. And something inside told me this was just the start of something
that could be very special. If only everyone was brave enough to say what they
wanted and take that chance.

Chapter Seven

“So now what?” I asked,
dropping my purse into the car.

Ed had pulled on his leathers
and held his helmet poised over his head.

“Stop at a restaurant?” Coben
suggested, patting his stomach. “I’m getting hungry again.”

“I don’t fancy eating while
I’m all hot and sandy,” I said, brushing several grains from my arm; I could
feel them nestled between my toes too. “How about we just hit the road for home
and I’ll rustle us up some pasta or something. You up for that, Ed?”

“I don’t know. Might just head
back to my place. I’ll need a shower after this trip on the bike.”

“You’ve got to eat,” Coben
said. “And we’re really modern. We have a shower at ours.” He grinned. “Come
on.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yes,” Coben said. “See you
there.”

“Tell you what.” Ed glanced at
the crawling traffic. “I’ll head back to mine, shower, then come round. I’ll
make this journey in half the time it will take you.”

I groaned and glanced at the
traffic. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’ve got a nice bottle of
whiskey that Major Wilkins gave me a while back,” Ed directed at Coben. “I’ll
bring it round. We’ll toast him.”

“He would have liked that,”
Coben said, nodding a little soberly. “See you in a bit. Drive carefully.”

“Always.” Ed rammed on his
helmet, then swung his leg over the bike. He brought the engine to life with a
growl, bent forward and raised his feet to the pedals. As he steered out of the
car park he slotted down his visor so he blended in with his all black
bike—except for the shiny chrome exhaust.

Coben stood close to me as we
watched him pull out into the traffic. The engine roared and he shot off,
squeezing between two long lines of queues. The noise of him tearing up the
gears sang in the air, and several people nearby turned to look. He went into a
bend and leaned low. Then he was gone from sight.

“Does he always drive like
that?” I asked.

“Yep.” Coben wrapped his arm
around my shoulder and pulled me against him. “He lives life in the fast lane.
That’s one thing that will never change about Edward.”

****

We headed back toward London.
The congestion thankfully cleared once we hit the motorway and we probably only
lost twenty minutes in the Brighton tangle of traffic.

“Did you enjoy your day?” I
asked Coben as we entered the city.

“Yeah, it was nice. You?”

“Perfect.” I paused. “I
enjoyed seeing you so relaxed, enjoying Ed’s company.”

He glanced at me. “It was a
good idea to invite him. He needs days like that when he’s on leave. Gives him
time to push everything out of his head, you know.”

“I can imagine.”

“Mmm.”

“He seems to have accepted me
knowing about your history together.”

“He didn’t have much choice.
Besides, he knows I wouldn’t have married someone narrow-minded or a gossip.”

“Well I like to think I’m
neither of those things.”

“You most certainly aren’t.”
He reached across the gear stick and gave my thigh a quick squeeze. “You’re the
best and I love you more and more each day.”

I smiled as a warm feeling
flooded my chest. Coben often told me he loved me but I never tired of it. “I
spoke to him, about you two, about us.”

“What do you mean?” He held
the wheel again and navigated around a bus that was pulling over.

“I told him maybe there was
room for him to spend time with us.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he didn’t want to mess
anything up between us.”

“I can imagine him saying
that. Like with Helen, the woman he was with before, he won’t have it on his
conscience making someone else unhappy, wrecking something good.”

“Do you think it would…if we
invited him into our bed? Into our lives?”

Coben was silent for a moment.
“When we talked about our threesome fantasy before, a hired cock, I wasn’t sure
how much I liked the idea of another man touching you. You’re
my
wife, mine, but Ed…?”

“It would be different with
Ed?”

He glanced at me. “Yes. It
feels more natural…” He huffed. “Don’t ask me why and maybe I’d see it and not
cope but at the moment, the thought of all three of us, together, it’s really
fucking sexy.” He grinned suddenly.

“I agree.” I shifted on my
seat to look at him. “Maybe we should see if we
can
make it happen?”

“I guess it all depends on
him. If he wants to.”

“I think it’s fairly safe to
say he wants
you
, Coben. He can’t
take his eyes off you. Whatever was between you is still running very deep.” I
smoothed my t-shirt. “But maybe he doesn’t find me attractive, and—”

“Nonsense, what man wouldn’t
find you attractive?” He sounded incredulous.

“Well, you know.”

“You’re the most gorgeous
woman to have ever lived and don’t you forget it. And no matter what happens,
I’m going to thoroughly enjoy showing you later just how much I adore
worshiping you and your delectable body.”

“Well, I like the sound of
that.”

Coben pulled onto our street
and parked up.

The sun was still shining and
as Coben unpacked the car I headed up for a longed-for shower.

I shampooed and conditioned my
hair, getting rid of all the grains of sand that had caught there on the
breeze. It felt good to wash away the heat of the day but I still felt hot
inside. It was a combination of anticipation, excitement and sexual tension. I
also kept thinking of Coben and Ed together on the beach, in the sea. Their big
beautifully sculpted bodies shining in the sunlight, the way they looked at
each other, how they’d spoken of the past and all that could potentially be in
the future.

The future.

There was no denying the fact
that if Ed didn’t agree to spending the night with us, soon, I’d be
disappointed. It was ruling my thoughts, feeding my fantasies and stoking the
fire within me. I wanted to see my husband with Ed, feel myself surrounded by
them, watch Ed let go of some of that fierce control he appeared to have over
himself at all times.

I switched the shower off and
dried. Applied coconut body lotion, which reminded me of holidays in the sun,
then blasted my curls with the hair dryer. I carefully chose an outfit of a
short cotton skirt and loose white top to look casual yet still, hopefully,
sexy. Added a long silver necklace, a squirt of perfume and a slick of lips
gloss. I checked my reflection in the mirror. Despite sitting in the shade most
of the day I still had a hint of a tan and my cheeks and legs held a nice
color. “You’ll do.”

I headed down the stairs and
into the kitchen. Coben was at the sink.

“Hey,” he said, “I started
chopping.” He indicated a pile of onions and mushrooms.

“Great.”

“I’ll go shower now,” he said,
dropping a quick kiss to my cheek. “Mmm, you smell nice. Reminds me of us being
in Barbados last year.”

“Same coconut cream,” I said,
running my hand down his chest. “Go, be quick, Ed will be here soon.”

“Yep, I won’t be long.”

He left the room and I turned
to the stove, set a pan of water to boil, then hunted for the pasta.

Before long I had a carbonara
all set to cook, part baked bread waiting to go in the oven and the table set.
But as I got it all ready I realized that I wasn’t particularly hungry. Well, I
was hungry for something, but it wasn’t food.

It was men.

Satisfaction.

I wanted the fantasy. I wanted
it all.

Coben’s footsteps banged on
the stairs at the same time the doorbell went.

Ed was here.

I let Coben answer the door,
and while I waited I tucked my hair behind my ears and brushed a few creases
from my top.

“Hey,” Ed said, ambling into
the kitchen a step behind Coben. “Looks good.” He smiled and indicated the
food.

“So does this.” Coben held up
a bottle of amber liquid. “Want one now.”

“Yeah, might as well.” Ed
leaned on the wall farthest from me and crossed one foot in front of the other.
“You have a good trip back, Sian?”

“Yes, easy, Coben drove.” I
took in Ed’s casual outfit. Faded jeans worn in all the right places and a
black t-shirt that was tight enough to highlight his muscles and flat belly but
not so fitted it looked like a second skin. He too had caught the sun and his
arms and cheeks were golden. His short hair was super-neat and almost the same
length as the stubble that now coated his jawline.

“Your drive okay?” Coben asked,
reaching for a couple of tumblers.

“Yeah,” Ed said with a shrug
and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Wouldn’t be without my bike.”

“I remember that time, in
Kandahar, when you were riding past…” Coben started.

Ed tilted his chin and his
eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah, that was a bit close for comfort.”

“What happened?” I asked,
helping myself to a glass of wine.

Coben glanced from Ed to me,
then back. “We were trying to help out a translator, one of ours but native
descent. He’d gone home and we were worried his identity had been leaked to the
community. Things could go have gone tits up for him, so a group of us were
sent to get him.”

“And did you?”

“Yeah,” Ed said. “We got
separated from the main group, though, Coben and me, ended up backed into some
shit hole with a mob of angry bastards out for our blood.”

A shiver ran up my spine. I
hated to think of either of the men in my kitchen in such a dangerous
situation.

“Only way out,” Coben said,
adding a hefty splash of whiskey to each glass. “Was down the main street but
there were too many hostiles about. We ended up grabbing a crappy motorbike
from someone’s yard and just charging our way through and hoping for the best.”

“Was crappy but it worked. The
bike, that is.” Ed took the drink Coben handed him. “Got us the hell out of
there.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Both of you were on one
bike?” I asked.

“Didn’t have a choice.” Coben
nodded at Ed. “But I let him drive. He always took more risks than me and at
that moment, we had no options other than risky ones so I figured he was the
most experienced.”

“You could have done it,” Ed
said. “No sweat.”

“We’ll never know. The fact is
you did, and that’s why we’re here today.” Coben smiled and held up his glass.
“To Major Wilkins.”

“Yep, to Major Wilkins, one of
the most thoroughly decent blokes I’ve ever had the pleasure to salute.” Ed
clinked glasses with Coben. “And that was the last tour we did with him.”

“What happened to Major
Wilkins?” I asked, wondering as I spoke if I should be inquiring.

“IED,” Ed said. “Fucking
things.” He knocked back his drink.

Coben did the same, smacking
his lips together as the burn hit. “Yeah, fuckers.” He topped them both up.

I watched as they sank the
next drink in time, their gazes locked.

“Shall I do food?” I asked.

Coben didn’t answer.

Neither did Ed.

“Fucking hell,” Coben said. “I
can’t do this anymore.” He set his drink down with a bang, then stepped up
close to Ed. He took the glass from his hand and whacked it on the table. In
one quick move he had both of Ed’s arms pinned to the wall, his hands spanning
Ed’s thick wrists.

“What can’t you do?” Ed asked,
his posture going from relaxed to tense and his fists clenching. A flash of
excitement crossed his face. “What do you want, Cobe?” Despite being trapped he
tilted his chin defiantly.

A coil of delight unwound in
my belly. Sexual tension simmered in the air. I could almost smell the
testosterone.

“What do you think I want?”
Coben’s voice was a low growl.

Ed glanced over Coben’s
shoulder at me. His eyes glinted. His lips were slightly parted.

I gave a small nod. He could
give Coben what he wanted. It was all cool with me. I wasn’t just words. I
could back what I’d said up with actions.

“Tell me,” Ed said again,
diverting his attention back to Coben but allowing himself to stay pinned to
the wall. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

“It’s more what I
need
,” Coben said, pressing his body to
Ed’s, their chests and groins coming into alignment.

Ed groaned and his arms
twitched against the wall. He flared his fingers for a moment, then clenched
them into fists again.

“We always knew it would be
dangerous,” Coben went on, his voice hoarse and brimming with emotion. “To see
each other after we ended it. That’s why we moved on. We went separate ways
because this was too much to contain.”