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“So?”
Kane shook his head. “Take your own damn advice. She needs you, and you need her. Hell, I’m the one who should be curled up in a fetal position.”
Jack frowned. “Why would you be freaking out?”
Kane laughed mockingly. “Oh, maybe because I found out having you around during sex wasn’t nearly the issue I thought it would be?” He held up a finger. “I’m not saying I want to get it on with you, but you were right. It’s a bloody big turn-on to be with Dara at the same time as you. Because it’s her, and because it’s you—my two best friends.”
Jack broke eye contact to stare at the wall. “I can’t do this tonight.”
“She needs you, man. She needs me. Don’t throw this away.”
Rustling noises followed as Kane hefted his bag and left. Jack sat miserably for a while before grabbing another beer and returning to the television. He cranked it up loud and settled in to watch something mindless.
Over an hour passed before he hauled himself upright. He’d been flipping through the same damn mental pathways over and over again.
He had to change his ways. If he changed he could be with Dara and Kane. But how much more would it hurt down the road to have to call it off if it didn’t work, or if he ruined their friendship in the process?
Jack growled at himself in exasperation as he hit his room. He threw his dirty clothes into the laundry and himself into the shower. The steamy water didn’t wash away any of his troubles, and when he made the mistake of picturing Kane in Dara’s bed, he had to turn the water to icy cold to deal with his instant arousal. He was not going to jerk off to the memories of being with his best friends.
Not when I could be with them.
He snapped off the water and stalked naked into his room to find clean clothes.
And froze at the sound of voices. Muffled, but loud enough to recognize as Dara and Kane.
“Like that?”
“Oh hell, yes, right there. So good, Kane. More, please, more.”
The words trailed away but the sounds of their lovemaking continued. Jack searched the room in a frenzy to find where it was coming from. The moaning and grunts of pleasure were driving him mad by the time he found the walkie-talkie. It was tucked into the side of his backpack, the listen button jammed in the “on” position. Fuck it. Somehow the two at the other end must have accidentally triggered theirs as well.
Jack smacked the casing to try to get the button to release. It had been bad enough to be imagining them having sex without him, he didn’t need a live play-by-play.
“Kane, would you…spank me?”
Oh my God.The image of her bare butt glowing pink flashed to his mind and his dick went instantly rigid.
“I’m not sure.”
“I loved it when you did it the other day. You and Jack, it was so good. Please?”
No. Fucking. Way.Jack couldn’t stand it any longer. He cracked open the battery compartment, ready to break the connection when he heard a loud slap and a sharp answering gasp from Dara.
Another slap.
She cried out in pain, not pleasure, and Jack swore.
“Ouch, no. Stop, that hurts.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…fuck that. I can’t. It’s not my thing and I think it’s for freaks anyway. Jack should have known better than?—”
The walkie-talkie fell unminded to the floor, the batteries rolling two different directions as Jack saw red. For freaks, hey? What happened to the little lecture about not feeling guilty about things that brought pleasure? He yanked on a pair of boxers and stormed through the apartment. Just because the bastard had no finesse didn’t give him the right to hurt Dara.
He let himself into Dara’s apartment with her spare key and shouted a warning.
“Get your hands off her, you bloody idiot. You were all high and mighty a little while ago, feeding me back my words?—”
He thrust open the door to her room, fully expecting to see them naked and tangling the sheets. Or Dara rubbing a sore butt cheek, eyes filled with tears. Instead the bed was covered with a Monopoly board, and Dara and Kane, fully clothed, fists full of popcorn, reclined on either side of the game.
