The Strength of Three (2 page)

Probably. She thought she might too. Now looked good.

Jon put his hand on her back again and both he and TJ reached for the same chair and pulled it out. “I think just seven. Joe’s here and Kyle and Marsha are on their way.”

Chris found herself shepherded onto the high stool with the aid of one of their hands on each of her arms. Kind of made slipping away hard to do.

“Hey, there’s Kyle now.” Aislinn sounded so happy. A twinge of jealousy reared its ugly head again inside Chris’s brain. She wanted to feel that way about a man someday too. She cocked her head. Maybe she should try lesbianism.

Nah. She didn’t begrudge anyone their preference in lifestyles, she just didn’t think it was right for her. Somehow she had to get over her fears and move on. Trust. It was all about trust.

Then again, maybe she already trusted someone. She peeked from the corner of her eye at TJ and then at Jon. Could it be? Did her body trust them even if her mind didn’t? Is that why she didn’t go all screwball with them near like she did with other men? She hadn’t seen them display any kind of negative vibes at work, but then her dad had a public face too. One he wore in the light of day. Midday, after his hangover allowed him to creep out of bed.

Chris hated her father for giving her every reason in the world not to like men. Her brother, Carter, who was turning into the same kind of man as their father, and the two men she’d tried to have relationships with in the past had solidified her view of the species. Men were scum, plain and simple.

Aislinn, therefore, must have found the one and only penis that wasn’t.

One of TJ or Jon’s colognes wafted under her nose. She pictured a cartoon-style trail of smoke creeping toward her. One end was curled into a hook, beckoning her like someone crooking their finger. It flooded her nostrils, forcing her to turn her head and look to the man it had come from. Jonathan. Those sky blue eyes glittered back at her and she had to swallow.

Okay, if she were truly honest with herself, maybe he made her want to try the whole relationship game again. With him, no one else. Maybe Aislinn was right. What could a fling hurt? Might get the burgeoning flame that flickered through her body whenever she looked at him, out of her system.

She turned and faced TJ and felt the same flare of heat. Crap.

Chris crossed her legs. It was damn hot in the bar if the sweat at her apex was anything to go by. Good thing she didn’t wear pantyhose. She could practically feel the itchiness superimposed over her thighs, the tickling of nylon along her crotch.

She sprang upright. When, at any time in her life, had pantyhose ever made her crotch tingle? But if she had worn them, she could have blamed what she felt on them. What was wrong with her?

“Can we get you another drink? Teej is going up.” Jon’s words rumbled next to her ear, sending a shockwave of longing sweeping through her.

Her tummy flipped over. “Uh-uh.” Was she answering him about the drink, or denying out loud that one, or possibly two, particular men were making her pussy tickle? Lord, maybe she wasn’t even really sweating. Maybe she was…
creaming
?

Mortified at her own thoughts, she stared straight ahead and refused to look at Jon as she shook her head. Her pulse throbbed at the junction of her thighs. Right about the spot her clit would be—oh Lord, she had it bad. She wanted a man. Men, she conceded. She wanted both these men. Which only confirmed she wasn’t as dead toward the male species as she would like to believe. It absolutely did not make her want to sacrifice herself to them. Wanting was one thing, doing another.

Joe Archer from Turner’s design team ambled over. Joe was a prime example why she wouldn’t act on her desires for anyone. From the look of the man, he had already overindulged. Chris sighed. Deep down inside she knew she wasn’t being fair to the opposite sex. They weren’t
all
like her father or Joe. Surely not every man on the face of the earth drank too much. She knew they didn’t and it was unrealistic to think she’d never find one of them. It was also damn hard to get over the fears she’d experienced first-hand. The ones she’d lived with for most of her life.

She felt Jon press against her. Only the wooden chair back separated them and his hands landed on her shoulders in silent support.

How did he know?

He swiped aside the escaped tendrils of hair at her nape with his thumbs and dug in to knead the tense muscles at the base of her neck. Chris’s spine melted, pushing her into his caress. He could give her a massage anytime.

You are losing your ever-loving mind
. Hadn’t she just convinced herself she would do nothing?

“He won’t touch you, I promise.” Jon’s warm breath fanned over her cheek when he bent so only she could hear. She gave a slight nod, accepting for the moment that he spoke the truth. See? There it was, her body trusted him instinctively, a split second before she even realized what he’d said. What made her trust him she didn’t know, but it felt right. Better than Joe’s presence anyhow.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Kyle pulled a stool out and helped Aislinn onto its high seat. Too bad there was a seat separating them because Chris really needed a female close by right now. Jonathan was quickly becoming too easy to be next to.

She tilted her head, semi-guiding Jon’s fingers to a particular spot, and heard him chuckle.

“Marsha had to run home to a sick kid so she won’t be here.”

Rats.
There went another XX chromosome. There was a conspiracy at work here tonight.

TJ returned just as Kyle hopped on his stool. TJ’s hands were full, carrying four glasses of various sizes containing pale to dark brews. He plunked them on the table and divvied them up between himself, Jon, Kyle and Aislinn.

“Thanks, Teej.” Kyle took a sip and licked the foam from his upper lip before leaning over to kiss his fiancée. A second of intense longing flitted through Chris. Aislinn looked so happy with Kyle, smiling and wiping his beer kiss away. On second thought, there was no longing. Gas, maybe, like the smiles you find on infants, but not longing. Who would long to be beer kissed?

Joe threw his head back, capturing Chris’s attention, and downed what was left in his glass. He’d been left out of TJ’s drink run. Not that he needed another one. After devouring the remnants of one glass, he reached for a second one he’d brought with him.

Chris tensed again and Jon’s fingers dug in, keeping her from rising off her stool like she wanted to. She half-expected him to say, “Stay.”

Kyle raised his glass in salute. “Cheers.”

Everyone lifted a glass above their head. Surely no one would notice how hers wobbled in the dim light.

“And here’s to all the other Fortune 500 companies who switch their security needs to Turner Industries.” Joe’s slightly slurred voice boomed across the round wooden table. How long had he been drinking? And how long would it be before he turned inevitably violent?

They gave a chorus of “Here, heres” which Chris felt disinclined to participate in. She shivered and fought back the panic bubbling its way to the surface. Jon’s fingers squeezed again, reassuring and adding comfort from a source she never thought she’d look toward. The man was wreaking havoc on her brain. From the seat he’d taken next to her, TJ covered the hand she had resting on her thigh with his own.

A small gesture no one would see but the three of them.
Everyone can see Jon standing behind you rubbing your shoulders, though.

Kyle and Aislinn shared another kiss, this one deeper than their previous meeting of lips. Chris watched, mesmerized, as their tongues dueled. Joe cleared his throat, breaking the spell, but Chris continued to wonder, not for the first time, how Aislinn did it. From past to present, how had she swept her fears aside and moved on?

More importantly, how did Chris start letting men get close, knowing in the back of her mind there was always the potential for things to turn ugly? Chris’s own mother was now a shell of a woman, unable to stand on her own. No, more like unwilling to. Chris had vowed long ago never to let a man treat her the way her father treated her mother.

Mouth suddenly dry thanks to memories, Chris took a gulp of her warm, still mostly full Coke. Her hand shook so bad, the dark liquid sloshed over the rim to trickle across her skin.

“Damn it.” She winced and searched for a napkin. Seeing none, she set the glass down and licked the sticky soda. A low growl made her jump.

“Need some help?” TJ’s head came perilously close to her hand, his mouth open, tongue hanging out.

Chris pushed him away with two fingers on his forehead. “No, stud, I do not need your help.” Mortified at having called TJ a stud, Chris slapped her palm over her mouth. Her cheeks flared with heat. She normally hid behind a “fuck off” attitude, which these two always seemed to bring out, but under the current damp-panty issue, now was not the time to be calling either one a stud. Both of them would misinterpret her meaning.

“Stud? I’m moving up in the world.” TJ snaked an arm between her back and Jon’s front to lie along her chair back. His fingertips grazed her upper arm, leaving goose bumps.

“Wrong, bud.” She scooted forward, hunching over the table. No man would move up in her world.

Why was that thought starting to sound delusional? Resisting the urge to fan herself and possibly give TJ more ammunition, she took a long drink of Coke to try to dissipate the heat steadily building up inside her.

“What’s wrong?” Jon curled his upper body over her, doubling her heart rate.

Chris looked over her shoulder to see TJ wiggling his eyebrows.

“She called me a stud.”

Double damn. She slumped forward. Maybe she could knock herself out and chalk this whole situation up to a dream. Her head hit the table with a thud. “Owwwwchie.”

She heard a smack above her head. They were giving high fives? Great. “Go away,” she grumbled, sitting back up.

“Never,” Jon whispered.

He really needed to stop doing that. It made her whole body prickle with need. Her heart pounded, with fear or excitement she wasn’t sure, but suspected the latter. The weird little tickle sliding from her tummy down to her clit only served to confirm her suspicions. This feeling was one of the reasons she lay awake nights.

The ones she spent lying in bed, envisioning TJ or Jon caressing her skin with their mouths, licking and nibbling their way to her mound. More often than not, she wound up inserting her fingers into her tight, sopping passage wondering what it would feel like to have one of their cocks filling her. Just once she wanted to give up and let a man take control of her body and give her what she’d only read about in fiction. Maybe with them… Could she? Should she? The prospect was looking more and more appealing. She could drive her own car, get away if she needed to. It would for damn sure be easier driving off than kicking them out of her house. And surely they wouldn’t hurt someone they worked with, would they? Aislinn had said, “Have a fling, get it out of your system.” Chris could do this. She would. Tonight. If they wanted to, that was.

This time she did fan herself by waving her hand. A pitiful amount of air wafted across her face. “It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have a drink.” There was a definite smile in Jon’s voice. He stepped to her side, opposite the side TJ occupied, and grabbed his own drink. Before she knew what was happening, he tilted the glass to her lips. It was drink or drown.

Shock nearly choked her. Two hands thumped her back between her shoulder blades as she spluttered.

“Soda.” She cringed at how stupid she must sound.

“What else would it be, baby?” Jon twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.

Chris stared at him. Had he lost his mind? They were at a party on a Friday night, happy hour no less. Did she look like a complete moron? How many people besides her were drinking anything other than alcohol? A few, maybe. There was a pregnant woman from Human Resources at a nearby table.

TJ’s lips brushed her ear. If those puppies got any more attention tonight she was afraid they might fall off. They’d been whispered against, breathed on, sniffed and now kissed.

“Alcohol upsets you, so why would we drink it?” TJ asked as if it were already clear they wouldn’t drink around her.

Chris’s stomach took a dive and her throat closed.

“Breathe, sugar.”

She did, sucking in a deep breath only to hold it again. Two soothing palms rubbed her back. “How did you know?” she rasped. They couldn’t know. Unless Aislinn had told them. Chris turned to her friend. Her face held a glimpse of sympathy Chris didn’t find comforting, but the mouthed words, “I didn’t do it,” helped.

“Aislinn didn’t tell us anything, Chris. Don’t blame her. Hey.” Jon tilted her face toward his with his thumb under her chin. “Does it matter
how
we know? What really matters is that we do and that you know we’ll never drink around you.”

Her whole body shaking, she laughed at him. She couldn’t help it. The peal came from somewhere deep inside, bringing tears to her eyes. Jon’s hand slipped from her chin to the back of her neck. He pulled her close and hugged her tight.

“Did I say something funny?” His chest rumbled against her cheek.

For a split second she felt safe. More so, she felt cherished and protected, like nothing would ever happen to her in the shelter of his arms.