The Best Mistake (6 page)

That fast.

The scorching sensation rose, set her on fire, and Lacey tightened her thighs and held fast, her inner muscles clenching against the surfeit of carnal sensation. Rick thrust up one last time with a low curse she didn’t catch, and he held them both there, his ejaculation pulsing so she could feel the throb of his release through her haze of sensual enjoyment until they both began to relax.

“Holy shit,” he finally said, cradling her close as she lay sprawled on top of him, his fingers brushing her hair.

Her face was pressed against his muscular shoulder and he smelled fantastic. Like clean sweat with a hint of cologne. And she had to laugh, though she agreed. “Very erudite, Doctor.”

“Best I can do.”

“Let’s see if I can improve on it.” Ran’s voice held a sexy rasp she’d heard before. His hands at her hips urged her up and then Lacey found herself suddenly flat on her back with him looming over her, his cock hard against her inner thigh. He kissed her first, urgent and a little bit wild, and then whispered in her ear, “That was so fucking hot. I love watching you enjoy it, knowing it feels good, the way you move, the little sounds you make…I need you now. This second, Lace…aah…God…”

He entered her in one long forceful stroke and she wanted to protest because her body was still trembling from her tumultuous orgasm, but anything she had to say was lost as Ran began to move inside her urgently, his tall body braced between her thighs, his breath brushing her temple in small bursts.

She was going to come again. It was a flash of realization and then conscious thought fled as she began to climax almost at once, her hands imploring at the small of his back, her hips lifting so that he went as deep inside her as possible with his next inward glide. Lacey splintered apart again and she was only vaguely aware that Ran had stiffened, the breath rushing audibly out of his lungs. Gradually he relaxed, rolling to his side, both of them panting.

It was possible she
had
made a lot of noise. In fact, she was pretty sure she had, but remarkably enough, didn’t care. At all.

Rick, she discovered a little while later in the warm stream of the shower, was really a breast man. He cupped, fondled and played with hers until she was almost frantic, and when Ran gently inserted two fingers into her already pulsing vaginal passage as Rick bent his dark head and suckled her nipples under the warm stream of the water, the pleasure was sublime, acute…perfect.

It was a journey of wicked discovery to have two lovers, and quite frankly, she thought as she rolled to her side once they’d all gone to bed, exhausted, replete and she was too tired to even regret what she’d done as she drifted to sleep. Rick’s arm was loosely draped at her waist and Ran’s rangy body sprawled on the other side of her, and she came to the conclusion that fantasies might be all well and good, but realities were even better.

Three months later

The house was quiet. Lacey frowned, letting herself into the spacious front hallway, the smell of polished wood faintly overlaid by a whiff of something else, a hint of oregano maybe and definitely a touch of garlic.

Neither Ran nor Rick could cook, and she hesitated a minute because it actually smelled pretty good.

The text she’d received had been pretty uninformative.
Dinner at the house. We have your favorite wine and a little surprise.

She texted back.
Like what
?

Hell, Lace, don’t you get the word SURPRISE.

She’d laughed, of course. Ran loved surprises because drama was his forte.

On the other hand, having her favorite wine was no doubt Rick’s idea—he tended to be thoughtful in small, sensitive ways. The first time he told her he loved her had involved a ridiculous amount of roses and dinner at an extremely romantic restaurant. His confession that he’d been feeling guilty ever since the first time they’d met because he was so attracted to her was something she could understand full well.

Maybe dinner was the surprise, because she usually did the cooking unless they just tossed steaks or chicken on the grill.

Waldo came around the corner then, galloping in clumsy joy. The puppy was already a monster at only about four months old. He completely misjudged the amount of time it took to stop, skidded right past her and then sprawled by the front door before he scrambled up and came to greet her, his tail wagging furiously. A pink tongue swabbed her leg and she bent to lift him off her foot—he was heavy already—and pat his head.

The little ruffian regularly stole her purse and he’d already chewed off one strap she’d had to pay a small fortune to have replaced, so she clutched her bag and took it with her toward the kitchen. She set it up high, out of his sometimes-inventive reach. “Hello?”

No response, but the kitchen really was full of fantastic smells, and on the polished granite countertop sat a bottle of wine along with a crystal glass. Propped against the glass was a small note, “Join us upstairs.”

“What does this mean?” she mused out loud to Waldo, who responded by running in an exuberant circle at her feet and then collapsing, panting, on the floor. “What are they up to anyway?”

They. It sounded odd but this dynamic worked. Two of them, one of her, but connected on a very compelling, elemental and yet also intellectual basis. Rick was ridiculously busy. Ran also worked long hours, and so did she sometimes. When they were all together, it was relaxing…comfortable. The two of them had dinner together alone now and then too, when she had other plans…just the way they always had. Surprisingly enough, their friendship might even be better.

It
worked
.

The puppy both Rick and Ran spoiled in a way that should embarrass any full grown man just propped his head on his paws and looked at her.

No help there, but she had a feeling she’d need the wine. Splashing a generous amount of the white Bordeaux into the delicate glass, she went out into the hall and to the elegant stairs, admiring as always the solid walnut banister, refinished and satiny under her fingertips. It really was a beautiful old house.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Ran was hovering in the upstairs hallway as she gained the top step, and he slid an arm around her waist and kissed her. “See you found the wine. In here.” He guided her toward a doorway at the end of the hall.

“In the spare bedroom?”

“Exactly.”

One step in the door and she stopped dead. The last time she’d seen this room was on her original tour of the house and it had been a disaster of scratched floors and peeling wallpaper. Rick had been using it to store boxes. It was the last room in the house that hadn’t been redone, and he kept the door shut, so she had no idea he and Ran were even working on it.

Now it was stunning. The walls were a very pale moss green, the crown moldings and floor a matching glossy walnut set off by a soft rug in a pattern of rose and a darker green than the walls, and the bed…she recognized the bed, Lacey realized with a small shock. It was one she’d fallen in love with one day when they were all three out shopping for a new chair for the study downstairs. Four-poster bed with carved posts and a beautiful headboard, and a matching armoire sat in the corner. There was also an antique nightstand with a lovely brass lamp, a rocking chair by the window…the view was of the backyard and the trees bordering the property, beautiful at this time of year with the leaves beginning to turn.

“Like it?” Rick straightened from where he was leaning against the wall by the window, looking incredible as usual in a denim shirt and jeans. “It gets better, Lace. Open that door.”

“It’s amazing.” She moved toward the door to what she assumed was the closet. “When did you—”

This time she actually gasped. It was not one of the tiny closets that were typical of a house this age, but instead a huge bathroom with gleaming tile floors, a jetted tub, a vanity with vessel sinks…

“We think this was the sewing room originally,” Ran told her. “It’s too small for a bedroom and there’s no window. We took out a wall and reconfigured the space, but kept the original door. There’s a walk-in closet to your left. Pretty sweet, huh?”

“It’s absolutely gorgeous.” Lacey turned around full circle to where they both hovered in the bathroom doorway. “Mind telling me why you didn’t even give me a clue you were doing this?”

They exchanged a glance. It was swift, but she knew them both pretty well—
very
well, actually—and she’d learned that look was a silent communication they both understood, one that usually involved her. That was a disadvantage of having two lovers who not only had known each other literally since the cradle but were best friends, as well.

Or was it an advantage?

“After I rented out the condo and moved in here, I refinanced, took some of the equity since I really no longer have a mortgage payment, and we decided to remodel these rooms into a suite. It will only add value to the house and—”

“Jesus, Ran, get to the point, will you? This isn’t a courtroom and she doesn’t need the backstory.” Rick shook his head and laughed. “It isn’t complicated. We were hoping to surprise you because we’d like for you to move in, Lace.”

“We figured you’d want your own space and privacy.” Ran added, “You’re here most nights anyway. How much time do you actually spend at your apartment? No one will think twice about it. We’ve been dating long enough I think everyone is surprised you and I haven’t moved in together before this. The rest of the arrangement isn’t anyone’s business but ours.”

True on all counts. She couldn’t claim she’d never thought about it. It was a big house, but up until now, he was right, having her own space was important to her. They didn’t seem to care there was only one bathroom on the second floor and they had to share it, but it would no doubt drive her crazy.

That problem was now solved…what was she going to say? They were looking at her expectantly, and she was more than touched that they’d gone through all the trouble and she loved them both…

It was odd to think that being in love with two men at the same time balanced her life, but it did. She’d never imagined this…them. Yes, the sex was absolutely fantastic, but that aside, she
loved
them both, enjoyed their easy camaraderie with each other and had come to the conclusion that since this felt right for all of them, why not?

“Yes,” she said simply.

There was that fleeting eye contact between them again. Then Rick said with a crooked boyish grin, “I made spaghetti sauce, but it needs to simmer. I swear if my mother left out an ingredient again from the recipe, I’ll disown her, but that really does leave us with an hour to, well, celebrate.”

“We do need to see if the bed is actually comfortable.” Ran’s smile was lazy and extremely sexy.

“We debated over the firmness of the mattress for half an hour. I think the salesman thought we were gay,” Rick admitted with a rueful laugh.

The bed was fabulous, she discovered moments later, naked and on her back. Especially with Rick’s mouth tracing the curves of her breasts and teasing her nipples, and Ran’s dark head between her legs, his tongue in a delicious wicked dance that brought her to climax with very effective speed.

That one innocent mistake might be the best thing she’d ever done in her life.

Kate Watterson writes contemporary novels with a sexy edge. She is also the award-winning and bestselling author of historical romances as Emma Wildes, and has dabbled in erotic futuristic as Annabel Wolfe. She lives in the Midwest with her husband, three children, an eccentric cat named Poot, and loves to read, cook and sit on the dock with a glass of wine now and then. Visit Kate at www.katewatterson.com.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-9308-7

Copyright © 2012 by Katherine Smith

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