I tried to sound casual. I sipped my drink to hide any fidgeting.
“They’ve been friends with Ramsey for years. I see them every few months.”
I both did and didn’t want to ask my next question. It would be obvious why I wondered, but since Ravyn already made the comment about worshiping, it wasn’t as though she’d missed the attraction. “Do you know...” How should I phrase this? “Do they ever mix business with pleasure?”
“No.” There was no hesitation in her response. “I mean, I guess it’s possible, since I don’t know how they spend their downtime, but I can’t imagine Owen ever crossing that line. He doesn’t even like to call in favors.”
“They never do.” Ramsey’s reply came from the kitchen doorway. “I’d bet a hedge fund on that. Kingston blurs a few lines, but—if you don’t already know this, you haven’t spent enough time with them—their business is their world. They’d never jeopardize it.”
I understood the sentiment, but was I doing exactly that to myself, by being here?
Chapter Eleven
By the end of the night, as we were saying our goodbyes, I’d decided to forgive Kingston for joking that sex meant I’d sell my business to them. It was a lot less stressful to go back to enjoying the scenery and the conversation, at least for the next hour or so drive down the canyon.
After that, it wouldn’t matter. Our time together would be done.
When we reached the SUV, Kingston playfully tugged my arm toward the back seats. “Let Owen chauffeur.”
“That seems a little odd.” Didn’t it?
Owen shrugged. “No odder than the two of us in the front seat and Kingston alone in back. Keep each other company.”
As we headed toward main roads, an unexpected sadness surged through me, clenching around my heart.
“Why the frown?” Kingston tugged a thumb over my bottom lip.
The intimate touch caught me off-guard, but soothed me. Did I dare say out loud what I was thinking? It would be rude to hide it. “I’m not ready for the day to end.”
Insecurities twinged inside. Was it stupid to admit that?
The corner of Kingston’s mouth tugged up. “It’s not over yet. Don’t waste the drive pouting.”
“What would you suggest instead?” I asked.
He trailed his fingers up the inside of my thigh, and fissures of need sparked under my skin. “You look gorgeous in this skirt.” He wasn’t answering my question, but I could be patient. “I swear I had a Basic Instinct moment every time you crossed or uncrossed your legs today.”
“Except, I’m not a killer.” I knew where the compliment was going, but it was tinged. “Or... whatever. I’ve never actually seen the movie.”
“The important thing is, you’re way more attractive than Sharon Stone.” Kingston’s fingers crept higher, nudging my legs apart.
I shook my head. “I’m not.”
“Disagree.” Kingston moved his hand further up the inside of my thighs, and my skirt crept higher.
That same nervous we’re in public fear was back. But it was dark, the windows were tinted, and there was no one else on the road.
Kingston brushed a light touch over my panties, and I gasped.
“Is that a keep going?” He asked.
Was it? Just a few days ago I was furious with him. With both of them. Was I willing to dive into a physical situation again? Kingston told me up front, his goal was to prove they were likeable business partners.
Did that include the sex?
“Lyn?” Concern crept into Kingston’s voice.
I was spread-legged, skirt bunched around my hips, while one man drove and another teased me. “I don’t want this to end like the other night.” I kept my voice firm, trying to make the words sound like a command more than a terrified confession.
“I don’t either.” Kingston eased his hand back, resting it on my knee instead. “This isn’t... It’s sex. Not business.”
That simplified things. Didn’t it? I glanced up at Owen. “Are just going to drive and pretend there’s nothing going on back here?” I tried to keep my tone light.
“I’m not pretending anything.” He briefly met my gaze in the rear-view mirror. “I’m listening to and enjoying every second of it.”
Being watched wasn’t my thing. Not even by whomever I was with at the time. So why did the fact that Owen was the watcher—listener—raise goosebumps everywhere?
“How many times have you done this?” I asked. The situation was too well orchestrated.
Kingston squeezed my knee. “This specifically? You’d be my first. You get to pop my fooling-around-in-the-back-seat-while-my-best-friend-drives cherry.”
I did want it. Him. Twice with the same fling broke a rule I’d rarely