Gifting Me To His Best Friend - Katee Robert Page 0,1
Really terrible jokes. “I knew I should have read the fine print.”
“Your loss, my love.” He returns to the couch with two glasses of wine and sinks down next to me. “You sure you don’t want to come skiing tomorrow? We can take you on the bunny hill.”
I smother a sliver of disappointment that we’ve moved on from the conversation of passing me around. It’s only ever been joking. Grayson and I get freaky in the bedroom, but adding in another person is a fantasy we’ve never actually followed through on. If we did ever go that route, doing it with his best friend would be a terrible idea.
Because I’m not the only one attracted to Derek.
I take a sip of wine and try for a smile. “I’ll take a pass. There’s a really cozy chair next to the fireplace with my name on it, and half a dozen books to work through while I’m on vacation.” Not to mention the fifty others that are sitting unread on my e-reader. I keep meaning to stop buying new ones until my reading catches up to my purchases, but it never happens.
Derek drops into the chair across from us. He really should put on a shirt. It’s distracting as hell to watch his muscles move beneath his skin as he sits forward and back. The man is all restless energy, and always has been.
He catches me looking and skates his own perusal down my body. I’m suddenly achingly aware of how my black leggings cling and the fact that I didn’t bother with a bra under my slouchy sweater. Derek grins. “You two are almost a matching pair.”
I glance from Grayson’s sweater to mine. They’re both gray, though mine is light and his is dark. “That happens after being married for a small eternity.”
“Seven years last summer.” Derek sips his wine, watching us with his witchy eyes. “The seven-year itch is a real thing.”
I give a nervous laugh. “Right. As if you’d know with all the long-term relationships you’ve been in.” In all the time I’ve known him, I haven’t met a single significant other, though I know there have been a scattering of both boyfriends and girlfriends because Grayson told me.
“We’re not talking about my relationships. We’re talking about yours.” He leans forward, expression intent. “How are you spicing things up these days?”
His willingness to ignore any and all social niceties is something I love and hate about Derek in equal measures. I can’t count on him to back off from asking questions no polite person would ask. He and Grayson are too close, too willing to share things. Neither are particularly good at boundaries.
I very carefully don’t look at Grayson. “Our sex life is fine.” Better than fine, really. Even after all this time, we can’t get enough of each other. At least a few days a week, he stops by on his lunch break and we bang like a pair of horny newlyweds. We meet in bars and pretend to be strangers and fuck in the bathroom, in the parking lot, in the car itself. The games just get more elaborate as time goes on.
“Fine,” Derek repeats slowly. He glances at Grayson, and I don’t miss the fact that he gives my husband the same thorough once-over that he gave me. “That sounds depressing as hell.”
Grayson laughs. “So we’re back to you being jealous.” He finishes his wine and sets the glass aside. Both Derek and I have most of our glasses left, but there’s a new tension in Grayson that wasn’t there before. I recognize it even before he looks at me. “You finished?”
There’s only one answer to that question, and I’m already nodding, my body flushing hot in anticipation. “Yes.” I set my glass aside and take his hand as he rises. He moves quickly, scooping me up and tossing me over his shoulder. My exhale whooshes out in a breathless laugh. “Grayson!”
“If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to go have fine sex with my gorgeous wife.”
“Well, fuck you, too.” Derek laughs. “Have fun, kids. I’ll be in my room with my hand to keep my company.”
I catch sight of him through the long fall of my blond hair as Grayson hauls me away, watching us with a visceral heat in his eyes. I can’t tell whose ass he’s most intent on, mine or my husband’s. In the end, it doesn’t matter. I’ve survived yet another conversation with him, yet another round of teasing that isn’t quite