Her body quickly responded to his thrusting fingers and stimulating tongue. It probably helped that Mick caressed her naked breasts and whispered dirty words in her ear. Every now and then, Eddie glanced up and locked eyes with Mick. He’d never seen Mick’s gaze so smoky with lust, not even with Miranda. Whitney truly was special.
Eddie pulled out his ring finger and curled the remaining two inside Whitney’s slippery passage. He found the raised bump of her G-spot and stroked it with a little pressure. Not too much but just enough to make her squirm. Back and forth and side to side, he rubbed her G-spot over and over as his tongue flicked her clit. Whitney clutched Mick’s thighs and breathed hard. She moaned and groaned and swiveled her hips.
“Oh, yeah,” Mick urged. “Eat her pussy, Eddie. Suck that clit. Yeah. Just like that. Fuck his face, Whitney. Fuck it.”
Eddie smiled as he slurped Whitney’s clit and traced it with his pointed tongue. Mick wasn’t a natural dominant, but he played the role very well when necessary.
Eddie sensed Whitney hovered on the brink of climax. Eddie’s first instinct was to hasten the pace of his tongue, but he held back, drawing out the anticipation of orgasm as long as possible. When she finally shattered against his mouth, it was incredibly powerful. Her pussy gushed around his thrusting fingers. She cried out again and again and bucked atop the mattress.
As her orgasm crested and she rode the subsiding waves, Eddie allowed his tongue to drift south. He sucked the nectar from her cunt, making her exclaim with surprise. He wiped his shiny chin on her inner thigh and lower belly before climbing up to lay beside her. Mick slid out of bed just long enough to grab a damp washcloth and hand towel. He carefully cleaned and dried Whitney before switching off the light.
In a tangle of arms and legs, they snuggled close and drifted off to sleep. Eddie held off longer than Whitney or Mick. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, some wonderful and others troubling. For the first time in a very long time, he felt perfectly content-and it scared him. He had Mick. He had Whitney.
And it would be so easy to lose them both.
Chapter Four
Mick stretched his aching neck and yawned. He glanced at his watch and grimaced. He should have been out the door twenty minutes ago, but a rather complicated surgery on an MVA patient had led to a shit ton of paperwork. Nothing like going head first into a windshield to fuck up someone’s day. If that guy’s mangled body wasn’t the perfect shot for a public-education campaign on the awesomeness of seatbelts…
His pager buzzed. One of the ICU docs wanted a consult on a post-op X-ray. Mick logged off and shut down his computer for the night. He grabbed his backpack, checked for his keys and wallet, and made a quick dash for the nearest elevator.
The consult was quick and painless. The guy had been circling the drain when he’d arrived via helicopter and had left Mick’s operating table in critical-but-stable condition. He seemed to be holding on fairly well, but only time would tell. If he made it through the night, Mick would be stunned. That kind of head and chest trauma didn’t heal easily and usually led to massive complications.
His consult complete, Mick made a quick getaway. Lingering in the hospital was a bad idea. He’d just get roped into taking an urgent surgery or covering for someone else. He wasn’t on call, and for the first time in months he really, really wanted to get home. He was desperate to see Whitney and Eddie.
The freeway was a fucking nightmare, so he hopped off at the first exit and crawled along side streets. Every traffic light taunted him, flashing red the second he drew near. Not one to tempt fate and run a red light, Mick not-so-patiently waited for the green lights, his fingers tapping the wheel or fidgeting with the radio.
All day long he’d been plagued with flashbacks of last night. Christ, the sex! It had been amazing. Mind blowing. Earth shattering. Whitney’s nubile body and Eddie’s domineering tone. Mick shook his head. There was some major, almost magic, chemistry among the three of them. He’d always known it would be good between them, but that good? Nope. Never in a million years.
Rather smugly, Mick preened like a peacock. He’d been right all along. She was the one for them. Like a missing piece to a puzzle, she’d slipped right into the empty spot and locked perfectly in place. Eddie’s fears were clearly unfounded. Now, Mick just had to pray there weren’t any ugly bust-ups.
The easiest way to avoid conflict and keep the relationship developing was to set out some ground rules. Eddie thrived on rules and regulations. If they made some decisions at the outset, there would be no questions about what was or wasn’t permissible within the bounds of the relationship. Better to get the uncomfortable stuff out of the way up front, he reasoned.
That was assuming Whitney wanted some kind of relationship with the two of them and didn’t consider last night a one-off kind of thing.
Mick’s gut soured. Fuck, if that was the case, Eddie would be inconsolable and a son of a bitch to be around for the next few weeks.
But Mick was sure that wasn’t the case. This morning when he’d awoken to the annoying chirp of his cell phone alarm, Whitney had been securely nestled between them, her head on his chest and her ankle crooked across Eddie’s calf. Mick had met Eddie’s gaze across the bed. His old friend had smiled warmly and carefully shifted Whitney onto his chest as Mick slid out of bed. He’d leaned over and pecked both Whitney and Eddie on the cheek before making his way to the bathroom for a shower.
When he’d checked in on the pair before heading out the door, they’d both been fast asleep. It had warmed his heart to see the two people he cared about most so tranquil and content. That was exactly what he wanted to see every morning when he left for work. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?
Mick’s heart raced as he turned down their street. Eddie’s truck was parked in the driveway again, so he assumed the other garage spot was still full of construction crap and killed his Mercedes next to Eddie’s Ford. He grabbed his backpack, slid out of the car, and slammed the door. He hit the button on his key fob as he hurried to the front door.
The delicious scent of Mexican food enveloped him as he stepped in the house. Whitney was a fabulous cook, much better than Eddie even, and had learned a lot of great recipes from her longtime foster mom, Lupe. Mick loved it when she took her turn in the kitchen. He was sure to gorge himself on delicious food and cold beer.
But, wait, if Whitney was cooking in the kitchen…
Taken aback, Mick hovered in the doorway between the entry and the living room. He’d been expecting the horrendous mess he’d left behind that morning but was shocked to see a scene like something out of a Pottery Barn catalogue. Eddie lounged on their comfortable brown leather sofa, the supple fabric seeming to gleam in the new space. He lifted his beer in a greeting. “Hey, you’re finally home!”
“What. The. Fuck?” Mick pronounced each word clearly as he toured the completely redone living room. The horrendous hole in the dining room wall had been perfectly cut out and shaped to form a beautiful archway. “This is like something out of one of those makeover shows on TV.”
“I know, right?” Eddie shook his head and sipped his beer. “I came home to find a crew hard at work and Whitney shouting orders over the speaker on the contractor’s phone. She came home with bags of curtains and throw pillows and new frames and knickknacks and put me to work.”