One-Two Punch (16 page)

Harry held back, ignoring her frantic efforts, and commanded, “Ask.”

Staring blankly at him, having forgotten everything except the need to have him inside her, filling her, Beth vaguely remembered having a question. It didn’t seem to matter now and she tried to pull him into her again, murmuring, “Please?”

“Ask your question,” Harry repeated through clamped teeth, his erection still barely touching her.

Why did I bring up the stupid question in the first place?
Beth wondered hysterically.

Taking a deep breath, which did nothing for her clarity of mind, especially because it pressed her breasts against Harry’s hair-roughened chest, she struggled to remember what she wanted to ask.

“When you…” she started, trailing off when Harry began to push into her. He stopped when the words stopped and Beth almost cried.

“When you were…hard,” she began again, desperately grateful that Harry’s invasion of her also continued, “was part of that…”

The progress of Harry’s cock halted again when her voice fell away. Frantic for more, Beth just blurted out the words, tact and self-consciousness unimportant.

“Were you hard because you wanted Ky?”

When Harry stopped his thrust this time, it was because of shock at her question instead of any teasing game. “You think that I don’t want you?” he asked finally, prodding his enormous erection farther into her in emphasis.

“Of course I know you want me—” She broke off with a gasp when he nudged his cock in another bare inch. What a conversation to be having with Harry halfway inside her, Beth marveled, sucking in a short breath to continue. “But I think you want him too.”

Instead of answering, Harry drove his cock into her, flattening her against the shower wall with his thrust. Beth’s hands scrabbled for purchase, finally digging into the hard muscle of his shoulders. He snarled as her nails pressed crescents into his skin.

Pulling her thighs up and apart, he plowed into her, forging through the tight clutch of her pussy until his cock was lodged, pulsing, deep inside her clenching heat.

An entire night of silent, desperate arousal, hours of listening to Ky and Beth breathe, when all he wanted to do was fuck them both—desire poured out of Harry until he was blind and mindless with it. Her small gasps drove him wild, made him thrust harder, faster, until his hips pounded against hers, technique forgotten, only raw need driving him.

When he exploded, his bad knee gave out, almost dropping him to the shower floor. Harry caught himself with each hand on an opposite wall as Beth clung to him, legs and arms wrapped tightly around him.

“You okay?” croaked Beth, looking dazed.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly, reality bringing the bitter taste of self-disgust. Just because he didn’t want to face his true feelings for Ky didn’t mean he had to act like an animal with Beth. “The question is, are you okay?”

“God yes,” she breathed, her heartfelt words startling a laugh from Harry.

“Really?” he asked. “I wasn’t a brute?”

Beth kissed his chin. “A bit of a brute, but that was the fun part. And I kind of started the whole thing by asking you about Ky.”

Gingerly testing to see if his knee would support his weight, Harry felt secure enough on his feet to take his hand off the wall and wrap it under Beth’s hips. “No,” he said slowly, picking his words carefully. “You had a right to ask. Your timing, however—”

Beth laughed and swatted the backside of his head.

“Ow!” Harry made a mock-pained face but quickly sobered. “You know I would never cheat on you, right?”

“Of course I do, but that’s not why I asked.
Do
you have a thing for Ky?” she pressed.

Harry frowned. “What does it matter? I told you that nothing would happen.”

Shrugging, Beth focused on a point on Harry’s neck as if she was unable to hold his gaze. “It’s just…I mean, I guess I just…well, if you did feel something it would make me feel less like a perverted slut,” she finally finished in a rush, her face pink.

“What?” Harry shook his head. “Now I’m really confused. Why are you a perverted slut?”

“Because—” Beth broke off with a short laugh. “If we’re really going to have this conversation, you need to put me down. Your poor knee!”

“It’s fine.” Shrugging off her concern, Harry didn’t take his eyes off her face. “What were you going to say?”

Beth shook her head, her face set in stubborn lines. “Down,” she demanded and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he conceded, allowing her to slide to her feet. “Here, we might as well get out.” Reaching down, he turned off the shower and opened the door. Beth stepped out after him and Harry wrapped her in a towel. Snagging a second one, he toweled her head briskly.

“Enough, enough!” she cried, her laughter muffled. Harry pulled the towel free and Beth shoved her wild blonde curls out of her eyes.

“Okay, now talk,” Harry commanded, leaning against the sink and swiping the towel over his own shorn head.

“Right.” He watched as she took a deep breath, as if she was steeling herself.

“You’re not the only one who’s thought about it.”

He jerked in shock. Of all the things he thought might come out of her mouth, that had not been one of them. “You mean…”

Chewing on her lower lip, Beth shrugged, her gaze bouncing nervously around the bathroom, landing anywhere except on Harry’s face. “Oh, you know. About you and Ky together. About you and me and Ky together.” She finally glanced at Harry and quailed at his stupefied expression. “Oh God, now you think I’m a perverted slut, don’t you?” she wailed, covering her eyes with her hands and almost losing her towel.

With a choked laugh, Harry pulled her into a hug. “Of course not, I just…I mean, it’s just—great, now I’m sounding like you.” He laughed again when Beth poked him reprovingly in the stomach. “Just give me a minute, okay? This is a lot to take in.”

“Okay,” Beth mumbled against his chest.

“I never thought this thing with Ky—whatever it is—would ever actually be anything.” Harry paused, running an absent hand down to the small of Beth’s back. “I didn’t even plan on telling anyone, much less acting on it.”

“You don’t have to,” Beth told him. “I’m happy with just you, you know.”

Harry chuckled and rubbed her rumpled head. “I’m happy with you too—so happy it freaks me out sometimes.”

“If you
wanted
to though…”

Blowing out a hard breath, he leaned against the sink again and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I want,” he admitted. “Except for you—I know I don’t want to lose you. And I know that I love having Ky here and that seeing you together…” He paused, pressing a fist against his chest. “I know that just looking at you makes me harder than a rock. And that lying in bed with both of you last night…that nearly killed me.”

Beth let out a strangled laugh. “You and me both, Cap’n.”

“I’m just so amazed…” Harry said, tipping her chin up so he could look directly at her. “You would really be okay with this?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, shrugging. “I’ve never done this before. I want it, I do know that, but I’m not sure about the aftermath. If you end up liking Ky better, I might have to kill you both.”

“Not going to happen,” he assured her, hooking an elbow around her neck to pull her in for a quick kiss. “I can’t believe that you’re up for this. You’re either the best girlfriend in the world, or the worst.”

“I’m voting for the best, in case you’re doing a poll,” she said and then pushed back from him. “And I have to get going or I’ll never catch my bus.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” he promised, giving her an affectionate swat on her towel-covered bottom. “If my nose doesn’t deceive me, I think that Ky’s cooking breakfast.”

Beth’s mouth dropped open. “Someone’s cooking? Here?” She gave Harry a shove toward the bathroom door. “I have to hurry—it might be pancakes. Did I ever tell you that I
love
pancakes?”

“Better get ready fast then—because so do I. There might not be any left by the time you get out there.” Harry winked at her as he backed out of the door and shut it behind him.

Beth finished getting ready in a flurry and rushed into the kitchen—where she slid to an amazed halt. Ky was at the stove, spatula in hand, cooking what looked to be, happiest of all happy days, pancakes. Beth swooped in on his unsuspecting back and hugged him from behind.

“Pokey, did I mention how much I love you?” she asked.

“Down, Barbie, down,” Ky shook free of her clinging arms. “Let go or it’s cereal for you.”

Beth dropped her arms immediately at the threat, ducking her head around his arm to peer at the heavenly-looking pancakes. “Are those blueberries?” she asked reverently.

“Fresh blueberries,” Harry confirmed from his seat at the island, his mouth full.

“Ky shopped.”

Looking at him in awe, Beth went in for a second hug. Ky jumped back, using the spatula to fend her off. “Sit!” he ordered, pointing at the stool next to Harry.

“Whatever you say, O mighty pancake god.” As she obediently plopped herself down, Harry leaned over to give her a sticky kiss on the cheek.

Picking up a fork, Beth tried to sneak a bite off Harry’s plate but he pushed it out of reach.

“I thought you loved me!” she wailed. The heartless bastard just grinned unrepentantly through a mouthful of pancake.

With a sigh, Beth resigned herself to waiting. “What are you two doing today?” she asked.

“I have the day off,” Harry told her between bites. “If Ky’s interested, we could go on a hike outside Boulder.” He glanced at Ky, who shrugged his assent.

It’s funny
, Beth thought,
how I can already translate Ky’s shrug vocabulary.

“Day off?” Beth queried in surprise. “Doesn’t Charlie have class today?”

“Yep, but Dominic’s going to pick up a few shifts. He’s already here all the time, so he figured that he might as well get paid for it. Charlie’s going to take over at three after his classes, so I’m free,” Harry crowed. Beth scowled at him.

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” she grumped. “Some of us still have to go to work.”

“What do you do?” Ky asked.

“I’m the receptionist and all-around butt monkey at Anchor Paper. It’s a decorated-paper company—you know, for scrapbooking and invitations and crap like that,” she explained.

“Really?” Turning from the pan to glance at Beth, Ky raised a curious eyebrow. “I thought you had some art degree.”

“Yep, sure do,” she confirmed glumly. “That and five bucks will buy me a cup of coffee. Speaking of coffee—did you make some?”

Harry pushed his cup toward her. “Here—have some of mine. Why don’t you do anything art-related?” he asked.

She took a blissful sip. “Dunno. My apartment isn’t really set up for painting. I sketch on the bus. Drawing’s easy—you just need a pencil and paper. Painting, now, painting’s messier. And scarier.”

“You could paint here,” Harry offered, shoving another bite in his mouth.

“Thanks. I should start up again. I think I just get lazy—that and it’s easier not to paint anything than to risk not being any good,” she admitted.

“Who cares if it’s bad?” Ky asked. “If it sucks, you can just chuck it. You don’t even have to show us.”

Taking another swallow of Harry’s coffee, which he wasn’t about to get back anytime soon, Beth pondered that. “You’re right. Thanks.” After another sip, she added,

“Speaking of jobs, what do you do, Ky?”

“Shoot at people. Blow things up.” He tossed some pancakes on a plate and thumped it down in front of Beth.

“Ah, thank you, wonderful Pokey.” She trailed lines of syrup over the stack. “I meant, what will you do now?” A horrible thought occurred to her. “Unless you’re going back—you’re not, are you?”

Concentrating on pouring perfect circles of batter, Ky shook his head. “Can’t, even if I wanted to. Pretty much flunked the psych exam.”

Harry’s head came up. “PTSD?” he asked.

Ky shrugged affirmatively. “That or just good old-fashioned combat stress. Either way, the diagnosis is BSC.”

Beth screwed up her face, trying to figure out the acronym. “Huh?”

“Bat-shit crazy,” Harry translated.

“Oh.” Beth chewed silently for a moment. “So what are you going to do?” she asked again.

Ky eyed her in exasperation. “You are a fucking bulldog, aren’t you, Barbie?”

She copied one of his shrugs and looked at him expectantly.

He blew out an impatient breath. “I don’t know, okay? Don’t really know anything except how to kill people.”

“You can pick up some shifts at the gym if you want,” Harry offered. “Do some training even.”

“I don’t know. I heard the owner’s a real asshole.” Ky looked at him sideways, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

Harry tossed a balled-up napkin at his head. “Very funny. You’d be a good trainer.

Boot-camp style is popular right now—people would pay you to scream obscenities at them and make them run laps.”

“Ooh, you’d be good at that, Pokey,” Beth teased.

Ky flipped the pancakes. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

“Sorry to run, kiddos, but I’m going to miss my bus if I don’t leave now,” Beth told them, hopping off her stool after one last sip of Harry’s coffee.

“I’ll drive you,” he protested but Beth shook her head.

“That’s okay—I don’t mind the bus.” She gave him a kiss goodbye that tasted like syrup and coffee before bringing her plate to the sink. Ky watched her warily, obviously expecting her to lunge for him at any moment.

“Have fun hiking,” she told them. “Don’t worry about me, slaving away to support this family. Just enjoy yourselves.” She gave them her best dejected eyes but Harry snorted with laughter and Ky just rolled his eyes. Seeing that no sympathy was forthcoming, she jostled Ky with her shoulder. “See you, Pokey,” she said. “Thanks for the ab fab pancakes.” He grunted.

“Such a sweet boy,” Beth cooed. On her way out, she mouthed, “Talk later,” to Harry, who nodded and waved. Rushing through the door and down the stairs, she waved at Dominic as she ran past.
What a morning it’s been
, she thought, amazed. It wasn’t even eight o’clock and already she’d had wild shower sex with Harry, talked about having a threesome with Ky and ate homemade blueberry pancakes.
What else
could happen today?
she wondered, running for her bus.