Page 25 of The Gift that Keeps On Giving

Ruby purses her lips and does a little dance in her bikini, making us both forget how to breathe. “Good thing I have a plan to get Cameron what he needs in a way that ensures we all walk away happy.”

My heart squeezes at the wordswalk away—and I can see it bothers Dean, too—but we both stay quiet. For now. “What’s the plan?” I ask, voice raw.

“We recreate that afternoon,” she says, causing both of us to rear back. “Except this time, we let it play out. The way Dean assumed it would have, if he hadn’t shown up.”

We trade a non-plussed glance, but Ruby struts out of the kitchen, her mouthwatering ass twitching right to left, before we can question her further. “Guess you better take me out and get me drunk, for authenticity’s sake.”

Chapter Ten

Ruby

It’s an experience, to say the least, being in a restaurant with Cameron and Dean. They’re used to touching me whenever they feel like it, and showing restraint? Not their strong suit. We sit at a secluded corner booth of a high-end seafood restaurant overlooking the Pacific, the sun just beginning to sink into the horizon. Dean is to my left, Cameron to my right, each resting a possessive hand on my thigh beneath the table.

The waiter is doing a great job of hiding his curiosity, but even he can’t help but gape, along with everyone else who passes the table. Hopefully, their open staring has nothing to do with my dress.

Wishful thinking. Of course it does.

“I can’t believe we brought her out in public wearing that,” Dean mutters, sipping a tumbler of scotch. “How am I supposed to eat with my dick this hard?”

“I’m wondering the same thing,” Cameron says, leaning back to give a thorough examination of my crossed bare legs, whileDean peruses my perky cleavage with a clenched jaw. “Was this dress our wives’ doing?”

“Polly and Molly strike again,” I sing-song, tipping my wine glass to my lips. “I think they’re having fun torturing you.” Cameron and Dean trade a telling glance that I can’t interpret. It’s nice to see them communicating again, but it would be nice if they clued me in. “What?”

Cameron shifts in his seat. “We’re not sure we want the torture to end, Ruby.”

I maintain a neutral expression, but my heart flutters its way up into my throat. “What do you mean?”

Dean gives me a stern look. “You know what we mean, baby.”

“No, I don’t. Because you can’t possibly be talking about extending this arrangement. That would take this from an exercise in closure to a full-blown affair and I’m never going to be on board with that. If I was that kind of person, things would have been a lot different six years ago.”

Several seconds tick by. “I love my family. My wife and I have a strong relationship, but God help me, we’re more like friends with children. It’s been that way for a while.”

“It’s the same for us,” Dean says, taking another long pull of scotch. “Polly knows it, too, or she never would have let me do this.”

“Yeah.”

I’m shaking my head vigorously. “We’re not talking about this.” My chest is starting to burn from the pent-up emotion that I refuse to expend. No, revealing how I feel about Dean and Cameron would be wrong. “We have until tomorrow morning and then we’re going our separate ways. I’ve never wanted to be in a relationship, anyway. Which is why this was such a low-risk chance to…explore…what I like.”

“And now, what? When our three days together are up, you’re free to go explore it with other men?” Dean moves hishand from my thigh to the nape of my neck, holding firmly. “I don’t fucking think so.”

“Ruby,” Cameron says, obviously trying to be the voice of reason. “We’ll sit down with Polly and Molly. We’ll explain what we’re feeling and go from there. Just be honest with us about your feelings. Tell us this is worth fighting for.”

“Maybe she needs reminding,” Dean growls, using his grip on the back of my neck to turn my face toward him, sealing his mouth over mine, his tongue roaming deep, deep, deeper and blanking my mind. We’re both breathing hard when he pulls away. “Now him.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper, dazed, my heart thundering loudly as I accept Cameron’s kiss next, the force of him pushing my back into Dean’s chest, our lips seeking and pulling with twin groans, his palm skimming up my inner thigh. He fucks my mouth until I’m gasping for air, forced to drop my head back onto Dean’s shoulder.

“Tell us you feel something,” Dean demands. When I say nothing, he abandons his scotch to slide his hand up my skirt, knuckling aside my panties to tease apart my flesh. “Or maybe we should take your body’s word for it, wet little girl.”

Thank God the waiter picks that moment to arrive with our appetizers and both men reluctantly back off. But not soon enough to keep me out of mental turmoil. What am I supposed to do? I didn’t see this coming. I thought my feelings for these two men would have subsided by now and I would be free to enjoy the physical release, but I was wrong.

What I feel in my heart for them is still very real…and very dangerous.

Am I in too deep now? Was this a terrible miscalculation?

“We have tonight,” I manage, still trying to catch my breath. “Let’s not look beyond that, okay?”

“We already inquired about a purchase price for the beach house,” Cameron says, absently twisting his water glass on the table.

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