Trying to ignore the irritating itch, Eddie thought of Mick and Whitney. He’d expected to find them when he got home, but they’d skipped out for dinner, apparently. Whitney had sent him a text a few hours ago, but he’d heard nothing since. Neither answered their phones when he called to let them know he was on his way home a night earlier than expected. Thankfully the two were together, so he didn’t have to worry. Between the two of them, they could handle things.
He turned over and pressed his cheek to Mick’s pillow. It smelled of Whitney’s shampoo and Mick’s antiperspirant. His cock stirred as the familiar scents ignited something primal within him. He’d always been a smell man. Weird, but there it was.
Eddie considered reaching down to stroke his stiffening cock, but those goddamned bites were driving him batshit. There was no way he could sleep like this. Growling, he rolled over and climbed off the bed. He stalked into the bathroom in search of something, anything, to help with the frustrating itch.
As he dug through the medicine cabinet, Eddie heard the unmistakable sound of the front door unlocking. He went totally still as he listened. Whitney’s high-pitched giggle floated through the house. Mick’s low laugh followed. He heard keys hitting tile, muffled sounds, and then a moan.
What. The. Fuck.
Miserable and itching like crazy, Eddie stomped out of the bathroom and headed toward the living room. He caught Whitney and Mick making out fast and furious in the archway between the entry and living room. Her slim legs were wrapped around Mick’s waist, her skirt kicked up to reveal lace panties. Mick’s hands gripped the backs of her thighs.
So much for the ground rules they’d laid out on day one, Eddie thought angrily. What happened to no two-partner sex? He wondered if this was the first time the two of them had gone at it like this.
“Oh, Dr. O’Loughlin, I have a fever and a terrible ache.”
“I bet I have the perfect medicine for that fever.” He pumped his hips. “Probably need a little physical therapy for that ache, though.”
“Whatever you say, Doctor.”
Mick laughed and kissed her noisily. “We should go find Eddie. Let him hear the good news.”
“You’re right,” Whitney replied excitedly. “Can’t wait to tell him we’re getting married.”
Eddie’s gut clenched painfully. The contents of his stomach lurched, and that gross burrito he’d shoved down threatened to make another appearance. It was fucking Miranda all over again.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Eddie stepped out into the living room, revealing himself fully to the canoodling pair.
“Eddie!” Whitney’s eyes brightened. “You’re home.”
“Hey, man.” Mick lowered Whitney to the floor. “Rocking the no-clothes look tonight?”
“Oh, fucking stow it, Mick.” Eddie’s hand slashed the air. “I heard you, okay? I know what’s going on here. You stole Whitney from me the same way you stole Miranda.” Jaw clenched, Eddie fought the urge to punch out Mick’s lights. “Well, screw the both of you. I’m out of here.”
He spun on his heel and stalked to his bedroom. Whitney called his name, but he didn’t stop. He wasn’t about to wait around for another pitying rejection. He’d had enough of those, thank you very much.
He flipped on the light as he entered and cast a glance around the room. What he needed tonight was a suitcase and enough clothing to get him through a few days.
“Eddie, stop. Right. Now.” Whitney’s furious tone chilled him. “You turn around and talk to me or else I’m going to throw you face down on that bed and use your own belt to whip your ass.”
Slowly, Eddie turned to face her. Her face was beet red, and her eyes flashed. He was suddenly struck by the idea he might have gotten it all wrong. Well. Shit. He’d screwed up again. He’d promised Whitney he would do better, and he’d broken that promise. Real smart, he thought. Now he’d probably lose her for good.
Sighing, Eddie flopped down on the bed and put his head between his hands. The bed dipped as Whitney sat down next to him. Her cool palm caressed his back. He heard her murmuring and glanced over to see her lips moving. “What in the world are you doing?”
She narrowed her green eyes and froze him in place. “I’m praying for wisdom to understand you, love to forgive you, and patience for this crap you sometimes pull. But I’m not praying for strength because if I do, I’ll probably beat you to death.”
Mick guffawed from the doorway. “Amen, sister! Amen!”
Eddie started to tell Mick to fuck off, but Whitney gasped. “Oh my god! Your wrists!” She leaned forward. “Your ankles!”
Eddie lifted his head as she dragged his arm onto her lap. “Chiggers or mosquitos or both.”
“Mainly chiggers,” she said, studying the bites. Like a general, she looked at Mick and ordered, “Go into my bathroom and grab that box of antihistamines, the mouthwash, and some cotton balls.”
Mick frowned. “What the hell are you going to do with mouthwash?”
Whitney scoffed. “And you went to medical school?”
Mick rolled his eyes. “Again, surgeon. Not a dermatologist.”
“Neither am I,” she whispered as she studied Eddie’s red skin. “These must hurt so badly.”
“They itch, mostly,” Eddie replied. He swallowed his pride and added, “I, uh, I think I need to apologize for what just happened.”
“Yes, you do.” Mick handed Whitney the mouthwash and cotton balls before sitting down beside Eddie. He tossed the box of antihistamines onto the night stand. “I’d give you these now, but they’ll probably make you drowsy.”
“Later,” Eddie said. “I’ll take them later.” He blew out a hard breath. “I’m sorry, Whitney. I’m sorry, Mick. I came into the living room and saw the two of you going at it, and I lost it. It was ridiculous of me.”
“It’s okay,” Whitney said with an understanding smile. “I’ve been so skittish lately with the whole sex thing. I can only imagine how that must have felt to see Mick and me pawing at one another when I’ve been turning you down for the last month.”
“And I know what you’re thinking,” Mick chimed in, “and the answer is no. Whitney and I have never slept together without you. We all agreed to three-partner sex, and we’ve stuck to that promise. What you saw tonight was just foreplay.”
“Well,” Whitney interjected with a frown, “not exactly. I was planning on having sex with you.” She shot Eddie an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry.”
Eddie shook his head. “Mick and I were ready to get it on in the kitchen without you that one time.” Eddie’s face was hot with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t right for me to jump to conclusions and snap at you two, especially since I was just as guilty of initiating a two-partner tryst.”
“It’s all right.” Whitney said in her sweet, forgiving voice. “We all make mistakes. We just have to communicate better, okay?”
“Okay.” Eddie watched Whitney unscrew the cap on the bottle of mouthwash and soak a cotton ball in the bright orange fluid. He pulled back when she tried to dab his wrist. “What are you doing?”
“It helps. I promise.” She crossed her heart. “When I was a kid, one of my foster families was all outdoorsy, and we spent, like, the whole summer touring national parks and camping. I hated it at first, but after a while it really grew on me.”
“And you had your first run-in with chiggers?” Eddie guessed.
“Yep. Mrs. Grantham knew all of these folksy home remedies.”
Mick took the bottle from her and studied the ingredients. “Huh,” he said, seemingly surprised. “I bet it’s the benzoic acid.”
“Sure, why not?” Whitney shrugged. “Whatever it is, it works.”
She took hold of Eddie’s arm and held it still while she dabbed at the red patches of bumps on his wrist. Eddie hissed in pain as the liquid stung some of the open spots he’d scratched, but then, blessedly, there was immediate relief of the pain.