Deke’s grim smile went straight to her nerves. “One of the joys of a ménage. We can make you willing to do anything. But since we’re agreed now that there won’t be any straight sex, then there won’t be any risks.” What sort of sex would there be, then? Oral. Anal. She hadn’t done either. In two weeks, she’d become a pro at both. The thought made her suck in a sharp breath at the dangerous jolt of
“Risks of what? Pregnancy?”
Deke’s mouth tightened. “That and entanglement. Taking virginity is accepting a responsibility in my mind. A man shouldn’t f**k a virgin he doesn’t intend to claim and keep. And I’m not in the market to claim any woman, not in the forever sense.” Amazing. The old-fashioned and commitment-avoidant all in one breath.
“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” she remarked, hearing her own sarcasm.
Deke merely crossed his arms over his chest and stared, his expression closed.
Unreadable. Taut jaw, unapproachable body language. His mouth flattened into a grim line. And those deep blue eyes of his, they looked flat, matter-of-fact…at first glance.
Kimber looked again.
Bleak. Everything about him screamed it. A stiffness in his posture, coupled with some yearning she glimpsed the longer she looked. Deke blinked, shifted his weight, took a step back. Whatever she’d seen was gone.
Kimber frowned. Lord, she was losing it. It wasn’t possible to see that much from a single glance. And Deke was the last man she should attribute any real emotion to. That look…she’d probably just mistaken his annoyance that he had to wait until tomorrow for her to ease his hard-on or that he wouldn’t be getting any vaginal sex from her. The subject of virgins and claiming didn’t actually upset him. She doubted much ruffled him, in fact. He’d probably thought next to nothing about the
“risks” of vaginal sex, except to decide that declaring “no virgins” gave him a better shot at no commitment.
“Should I tell Luc you’ll be back to the house in time for dinner?” His dead expression was back, and this time, Kimber didn’t look any closer. She doubted Deke was sensitive enough to have any demons, but if he did, she didn’t want to know them.
“And pass up his cooking? I’ll be there.”
Deke didn’t smile. In fact, he looked as cheerful as a man facing death row. “We’ll be ready.”
Deke nursed a beer just inside the kitchen as he watched Luc open the front door.
Kimber stood on the other side, looking so damn innocent in a white lace shirt and flirty flowered skirt, he gnashed his teeth. Having her here had “bad news” written all over it. Damn.
The hint of mischief in her eyes didn’t make him hard— just the thought of her had managed that twenty minutes ago. But the excitement flushing her cheeks slammed a fresh rush of blood to his c**k as Luc invited her into the house. She accepted with a smile and stepped her strappy-sandaled feet into the hall.
His good ol’ cuz had been like a panting puppy with the promise of a new toy all afternoon. He’d sweet-talked Wiletta, their old housekeeper, into a midweek sprucing up. Luc had also spent the last four hours preparing some gourmet chicken dish Deke couldn’t pronounce. And dessert—some complicated chocolate torte thing with strawberries. Deke shook his head. Luc had bought four cartons of the berries and handpicked a mere few for the confection.
Deke doubted they’d make it to dessert.
He didn’t have to ask why all the effort on Luc’s part. His cousin wanted to believe they’d finally found the woman who could complete them, discounting the fact that no sane woman would want to play house permanently with a former Army Ranger and a temperamental chef. Apparently, Luc had also forgotten the thousands of times Deke had insisted he didn’t want a permanent relationship.
Still, his cousin persisted in hoping Kimber was theirs.
Who knew why? Deke had pointed out repeatedly they wouldn’t be sinking their cocks into Kimber’s sweet pu**y. That she was, in fact, coming here merely to experience a ménage so she could be prepared to please another man. None of that mattered. Luc was still convinced Kimber could be The One. Sweetly curious, soft on the outside with a tough inner core, Kimber was everything Luc insisted was perfect for a life with two difficult men.
Deke snorted. Yeah, this sure was headed for a fairy-tale ending. Not. But Luc would have to figure that out for himself. Deke was tired of pointing out the obvious. Still, he admitted privately there was something about Kimber that utterly flipped his switch.
Grimacing at the hard-on straining the f**king slacks Luc had insisted he wear, he lifted his beer for a long swallow. Hell, he was as hard as he could ever remember being and he’d done nothing more than watch Kimber walk through his door with a hesitant smile.
“Hi.”
Her voice was breathy, soft, a little shaky. Good. She had every reason to be nervous. He was. His insides were like a lit powder keg on a short fuse. What would happen to his restraint and self-control after he and Luc laid her out on the bed?
Kaboom.
He was all jacked up on adrenaline, just as he was after a mission. He needed to f**k, and he could only deny it for so long. Worse, the need seemed fixated on her.
It wasn’t a matter of if she begged to be f**ked, but when. And when she begged for a hard c**k in her pu**y…could he keep to his vow to leave her a virgin?
Despite his tough talk, he wasn’t sure.
Could he f**k her, claim her, and risk the consequences?