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And he came. Not even inside Kassidy. He came in Dag’s mouth, Dag’s lips and tongue and cheeks sucking greedily. “No,” Chris almost sobbed. “No, no…”

“Chris.” Kassidy touched his face again, pressed her mouth to his. “Oh Chris…”

Dag sucked him dry, licked him clean, let his shaft slide from his mouth and then Kassidy gasped as Dag no doubt returned to her pussy.

“Oh yes,” she moaned again, plucking her own nipples. Shit. He should be doing that. Too bad he couldn’t lift his arms. Dag would take care of her. His head muzzy, thoughts spinning out of control, Chris drifted, hot and undone. Kassidy made little girl pleasure noises, her body tensed and tightened, and she gave a soft cry as she came.

Feverish, almost delirious, Chris babbled something, knew in the far back of his mind it didn’t even sound like human language that Dag or Kassidy could understand. Dag sprawled on the bed next to them, breathing heavily, one big hand still resting on Chris’s thigh.

And then Kassidy, sweet generous Kassidy, slid off Chris’s limp body and moved over Dag. “Dag,” she whispered, reaching for his cock. “Now you.”

“Aw, Kass, baby.” Dag’s fingers slid into her hair as she knelt beside him. Chris’s chest ached, his throat felt tight, his eyes hurt. Normally he loved to watch Kassidy give Dag head, but at that moment, he could hardly bear to open his eyes in case he looked at Dag. He could never look at him again.

Chapter Seventeen

“What do you mean, he’s gone?”

Kassidy rounded on Chris, the pot of coffee held above her mug.

“Jesus, Kass, watch what you’re doing.” Chris grabbed for her hand as coffee poured all over the counter and dribbled down the front of one maple cabinet.

“Oh shit.” She reached for a towel and swiped at the mess.

“For Chrissake, be careful,” Chris snapped. “You could burn someone like that.”

She mopped up the coffee, his words like a slap. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “You don’t need to bite my head off.”

Chris rubbed the back of his neck, took the towel and wiped up the coffee that had dripped to the hardwood floor. “Sorry.”

“Where is he?”

“He left.”

She stared at him, questions clogging up her brain. “But, I don’t get it. Where did he go? Why?”

“Oh for— I don’t know. I think he’s going back to San Francisco. Probably going back to the hotel for now.”

“But…” The kitchen shifted around her and she set a hand on the counter to steady herself. “But, I don’t get it.” She narrowed her eyes at Chris. He looked like shit, she had to say. His eyes were red and a pulse ticced in his tight jaw. “Is this because of last night?”

“No.”

He continued mopping without looking at her, then stood, turned and hung the damp towel on the rack.

She snatched it away from him. “That needs to go in the laundry,” she snapped. “Chris. What’s going on?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

She balled up the damp towel in her fists. “Yes, you do.” Then she smacked his chest. “What did you say to him?”

He continued to avoid her eyes. “What happened last night shouldn’t have. We just…both agreed to that. And that it was best if he go.”

Kassidy’s face felt tight and hot, her stomach cramped. “I’m trying to understand,” she said slowly, her throat aching. “Help me understand.”

Finally he looked her in the eye. Briefly. “Kassidy. You know what…fuck.” He rubbed his face. “I can’t even talk about this. You know what he did last night. He can’t do that. We can’t do that.”

“You loved it!” She stared at him. “You came like a volcano! If you hated it that much, why didn’t you stop him?”

“I tried! I was…”

“Bullshit!” She sucked in air in quick, shallow breaths. “Bullshit, Chris. What’s so wrong if it felt good?”

He stared at her, his mouth pressed into a grim line. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe you just said that. It’s okay for me to sleep with two guys? For me to have two cocks inside me? For me to do all the wild and wicked things we’ve done? It’s okay for you to share your girlfriend with your best friend, which you’ve done many times I might add, but it’s not okay for two men to touch each other?”

He closed his eyes and turned away. “That about sums it up, yeah.”

“Oh, for… Chris.” She stretched a hand out to touch his shoulder. “Tell me. Is it that repulsive to you that Dag touched you like that?”

“Jesus Christ!” He shrugged her hand off and she took a step back, feeling a knife twisting inside her. “I just…can’t do that.”

She just gazed at his back, the old, well-washed gray T-shirt hanging from his wide shoulders, tensed up almost level with his ears. “I don’t know what to say. I just don’t.”

“Look. Yes, Dag and I have had threesomes in the past. But it was never for him and me–it was about the girls. Both of us sharing and enjoying her and giving her two times the pleasure.”

“Because you’re both such studs,” she added with a touch of bitterness.

“No. That’s not what I meant.”

“You know what?” She fixed her gaze on him. “I don’t totally buy that. That it’s not for you and him. You two get something out of doing that–I know you like to watch, but it’s more than that.” She paused. “You and Dag have feelings for each other.”

Chris’s narrowed to slits. “We’re friends.”

“Yeah. Friends.” She shook her head. She eyed him. How far should she push him? He was on the edge as it was, body tense, jaw locked. Her heart felt full and heavy. “I’ve never been totally able to get my head around this whole thing. It confuses me. I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. But I do know one thing. Yesterday I felt lucky to have both of you, but it wasn’t because of the sex. It was because you guys both looked out for me yesterday. No, not just yesterday—every day. You both care about me. Both of you. You wanted to make me feel better, to look after me. That meant—” She had to stop and swallow, her throat thick with tears. “That meant so much to me.”

“Jesus Christ.” Chris whirled around. “Are you in love with Dag?”

Her chest ached so much she could hardly breath, almost couldn’t speak. “I-I don’t know.”

“Fuck me! You have got to be kidding me! This wasn’t supposed to turn out like this!”

“Chris, wait. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you. But I care about Dag. I can’t deny that. I couldn’t sleep with him and do the things we’ve done with him if I didn’t care about him. You should know that. You should be happy about that.”

He gazed back at her, confusing swirling in his eyes.

“I love you, Chris. You know I do.”

“Yeah.” His voice was low and tight. “I know it. And I love you too, sweetheart.” He put out his arms and she moved into them, against his big, warm body, got folded up in his embrace. “God, Kassidy, you scared the crap out of me.” They stood there holding each other for a long moment, and then he said, “So we’re good?”

Slowly she drew her head back. “No. No, Chris. We’re not good.” She met his eyes. “I need to know what happened with Dag.”

She walked through the lobby of the hotel where she and Dag and Chris had had dinner weeks ago. Dag hadn’t answered his cell phone, but when she’d called the hotel they’d put her through to his room, and without caller ID, he’d picked up. He sounded different—fractured, distant—but he gave her his room number even though he tried to tell her not to come.