Three to Play (5 page)

Delicious duo, indeed.

Something warm and mushy filled her chest when she spotted the words on the rectangular dessert underneath the plastic protector.
Happy decade birthday, Beth.

Fortified with the news that Candi shared that morning about the phone survey, Beth demanded Clint come with Dustin tonight in hopes of sealing her place on the show. Dustin hinted that he wanted to keep her on mornings. With Clint, she had to meet him on a logical level. With the survey information that women, ages twenty-five to forty-five, liked her on the show, Beth could now make a strong case to him. Without her, Clint and Dustin would deliver good ratings. With her, they’d be fantastic.

If after tonight Clint still didn’t want her with them, she hoped Dustin would side with her. The more she thought about it, discord between these two might be the only way. She didn’t like this tactic, but couldn’t think of any other way to remain on the show she loved.

Beth felt like her mind was spinning on a carnival ride. She’d insisted on staying in rather than going out. Home field advantage. Also, she’d thought she’d be able to keep a lower profile in her own home than in one of the city’s nightspots. Now, she worried about her self-control. If she gave into the desires that Dustin kept fanning, would Clint think she was trying to sleep her way to a permanent place on the show?

“May we come in?” Clint asked.

Being a consummate broadcaster of fifteen years, she kept the nervousness out of her delivery. “Yes, of course.”

This wasn’t how Beth wanted to spend her birthday, being reminded of the impossible. Forty years old and having wicked thoughts about the two men, ten years her juniors, who were taking over her morning time slot and sweet-talking her out of a job.

She stepped aside and motioned them in. “Set the food and the wine on the kitchen counter by the sink. You can put the DVDs on the coffee table.”

Dustin smiled and walked into her kitchen as instructed. She couldn’t stare at his incredible backside enough to satisfy her. Walking back into the living area empty-handed, he flipped his jacket over one of the chairs.

She turned to Clint. Her heart picked up pace at his powerful stare. Her knees weakened. Had he seen her staring at the cowboy’s ass? Was he angry? He looked aroused. God, she could only imagine what a night with Clint would be like. Intense.

Being attracted to Dustin, while stupid, made sense. His contagiously happy demeanor entranced her, despite her best efforts to resist. However, Clint’s taciturn bearing, even with his sexy, muscled body, shouldn’t have any appeal for her. Yet she could not deny the potent pull he had over her. He’d drop any woman to her knees. The image of him bending her to his will shouldn’t have any appeal for her. She swallowed. It did.

Dustin smiled. “Beth, your place is great. It’s got your mark all over it.” He pointed to the large painting over the sofa. “Very much you.”

Her stomach flip-flopped. The canvas swirled with rainbow colors. Beth was proud of the piece, though she’d never told anyone that she’d actually painted it. Other paintings by legitimate artists decorated her walls. He’d chosen the only work of hers she’d ever hung. How had he picked up on how much it meant to her?
 

She hoped like hell she wasn’t blushing. “I like it, too.”

Clint still wore his black overcoat. His expression resembled a hunter’s catching the scent of his prey. She swallowed.

“You staying,
pardner
?” Dustin asked Clint.

Clint hesitated, glanced at Beth, then nodded at Dustin as he slipped off his trench. “Do you have a coat closet, Beth?”

“No. I can hang it in my bedroom closet.”

Beth held out her hand. He folded the garment precisely and handed it over to her. His scent permeated the fabric. Shivers ran over her skin.

“Thank you.” His voice came out deep and rich.

He made her whole body buzz, as did Dustin. And now they were here, in her home. Tingles spread up her spine. How would she ever manage to keep this cozy night professional yet friendly when all she wanted so much more?

“You’re very welcome.”

“Where’s your bottle opener?” Dustin asked.

“I thought I put it on the table before you got here.”

“I don’t see it, darlin.”

That Southern accent drove her wild. Her brain short-circuited as heat spread into her pussy.

She wanted to smile at him, but didn’t dare.
Who knew where he’d run with that?
His teasing and flirting had grown during their two week acquaintance, intensifying her wicked thoughts.

Every moment with Dustin and Clint exercised her self-restraint. Her gut tightened every time they got near her. On one hand, she should’ve remained pissed at these two gatecrashers. On the other, she could’ve quit, leaving the two to fend for themselves. But she hadn’t done either. She wasn’t sure why. Instead, she’d worked with them, desired them, staring at them like a golden pocket watch swaying on a chain, back and forth, until completely hypnotized. Having them in her house, all alone, with wine and Chinese food now seemed like a very bad idea.

She pointed to the other side of the table. “It was right there, Dustin.”

“I see it there, on the floor.” Dustin pointed. “I must’ve knocked it off with my jacket. Sorry.”

He bent over to pick it up. A tingle spread up her spine as she enjoyed an even better vantage of Dustin’s perfect butt. Damn, she needed to get it together.

Flushing, she turned away. “Don’t worry about it, Dustin. Let me hang Clint’s coat up. I’ll be right back.”

“And I will have wine waiting for you, birthday girl.”

“Please stop the
birthday girl
bit. I really am not thrilled about today.”

“Dustin, cut it,” Clint ordered, then nodded toward her.

They both knew Dustin wouldn’t, but she loved that he’d tried. It was the nicest thing he’d done for her since getting her that first cup of coffee. Since then his mood had turned more and more gloomy. He’d barely spoken to her, except when the microphones came on. Then he turned a blazing sexual heat on her. Why, she couldn’t imagine. Worse, she’d been unable to get either of them off her mind.

Beth walked into the bedroom and shut the door. She needed a minute. Several, actually. At that moment, slipping out her window didn’t seem terribly crazy.

They were so different from Beth. She loved her routine, took comfort in it. Once the guys left for their next gig, she’d get her show back, if she wasn’t shown the door first.

Hopefully, all she had to do was wait them out. The plan for tonight consisted of drinking a glass of wine, eating some Chinese food, watching a funny movie, and pretending to be pals. Once they were relaxed, she would make her case.

But her libido and active imagination seemed set on taking over. Internal fires scorched her when they looked at her like she could be dinner and dessert all in one. She needed to get her head back in the game.

Dustin had flirted with her from day one, on air and off. Which didn’t necessarily mean anything. Flirting was like breathing to him.

Clint, though quiet, had locked eyes with her several times over the past two weeks. His tense stare always seemed filled with something hot. Anger? Desire? Or was it all her imagination?

On air, his force dominated. He guided the conversation masterfully, just like she suspected he did everything else. When Dustin moved out of bounds, he’d pull his friend in. When she balked or grew too quiet, he’d engage her. Though he held the reins of the show, off air he acted very differently.
 
Like Jekyll and Hyde. Aloof, seemingly struggling with something. What?

She chewed her bottom lip.

Even more puzzling, on the show, Clint and Dustin had alluded to participating in three-ways. More than once. At first she thought they said it for shock value and ratings, but now, she wondered. Had they actually shared a woman together? Had they thought about sharing her?

It was foolish to wonder such things about Clint and Dustin. Professionally, she had too much at stake to even ponder the suggestion, much less act on it. Emotionally, even more. If they approached her, seduced her, would she have the will to refuse them? Or would it be like throwing gasoline on the growing bonfire building inside her?
 

Her heart pounded in her chest.

Determined to put the thought out of her head, Beth ripped open her closet, and took out an empty hanger. Instead of hanging the garment up, she pulled the fabric up to her nose and took in Clint’s essence lingering on the coat. Spice and oak. The back of her neck tingled. Her rational side vacationed at least three states away.

“Birthday Beth, your wine is ready.” Dustin’s voice floated in from the other side of the door.

She placed Clint’s garment on the hanger, hooked it on the rod, then she closed the closet door.

Decade birthday or not, Dustin had come with some feeble attempt to cheer her up. Did Clint only come along to keep Dustin out of trouble? Or did he have another agenda?

Chapter Five

The wine relaxed Beth and Dustin, though they’d only opened one bottle. Clint tasted some of the pinot noir, but more than half of the drink still sat in his very first glass. He couldn’t risk imbibing more of the burgundy liquid. That would be much too risky with Beth sitting between him and Dustin, looking like something out of his midnight fantasies, blue eyes sparkling, breasts moving with each laugh.

While Clint held his outside motionless, his insides rolled like the tides. He wanted Beth, wanted her to experience pleasure the way he knew how to deliver it, controlled, with her bent to his will.

He suspected that she would respond to his handling, but that could never be, not with Dustin present. Clint knew better than to reveal his trips to BDSM clubs. Dustin, with his Southern upbringing, had specific ideas on how a man treated a woman. Cuffing and lashing weren’t among them. Dustin would flip out if he knew exactly what Clint liked.

The comedy film Dustin had brought kept the birthday duo in hysterics. Clint had lost interest in the movie less than ten minutes into it. A talking dog didn’t do a thing for him.

Still, he enjoyed hearing Beth laugh and watching her chest rise and fall under the green silk with each outburst. He imagined pinching her nipples until she begged him to stop. Whenever she drew even a fraction closer, his dick hardened.

He’d witnessed her quick wit, stinging candor, and unfaltering loyalty to the other announcers at the station. Though she’d kept her guard up since the first day, tonight, he sensed her practiced calm, unsettling him even more. Something was going on in her head…

Beth clearly enthralled Dustin. Knowing how badly his friend wanted her, Clint’s lust accelerated. He wanted her naked, sandwiched between them, tied up, body writhing, and pussy wet.

Never going to happen.

His job was to do whatever it took to elevate him and Dustin to the top of the ratings. Being in broadcasting, one couldn’t afford self-reproach or guilt. People got hurt. That was just a fact. Unfortunately, Beth’s slot on the show threatened his and Dustin’s success. Beth wasn’t his concern. He owed her nothing.

At the next obvious joke in the movie when the dog came in contact with his nemesis, the singing cat, Beth leaned in closer to his side.

Dammit.

An overwhelming ache to plant a ravaging kiss on her lush mouth pounded inside him. Dustin shot him a glance, indicating similar thoughts ran through his head. No matter Clint’s intention not to fuck her, Dustin refused to be deterred.
  

Clint didn’t move, though lust grew inside him with each press of Beth’s curvy body against his side.