Rule of Three by Kelly Jamieson Page B

that they lived together—he could. They both stripped off their clothes in the spacious bathroom, their naked bodies reflected back in the mirror lining the wall above the double sinks. Like a porn movie almost, Kassidy’s nude body a soft, curvy contrast to his darker-skinned, much bigger shape. He watched with interest as she ran water over a face cloth, poured some scented body soap onto it and washed herself. He did the same, cleaning his cock and balls, between his thighs, Kassidy’s eyes on him too.
    “You are so fucking hot,” he said.
    She smiled. “So are you.”
    He started to get hard again and quickly rinsed with cold water. “I’ll get dressed.”
    He heard her moving around in the bathroom as he found the narrow black pants he wanted to wear, shrugged into a white button-down shirt that he left loose, with the cuffs rolled back on his forearms.
    “I’ll go wait with Dag,” he called to her from the bedroom door.
    “Okay.”
    He sauntered into the living room, a pretty good post-orgasmic buzz still flowing through his veins, to find Dag seated on the couch, a beer in his hands, staring out the window. Dag lifted his gaze to his and Chris blinked at the raw emotion blazing there before Dag schooled his features.
     
    “Sorry, bud,” Chris said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Kassidy will be ready in a few minutes.”
    “Sure.” Dag pressed his lips together and gave a jerky nod, looking away from Chris.
    Christ. His chest ached, his dick was a fucking steel rod, his mind a jumble of mixed-up thoughts. He’d heard everything, every goddamn moan and pant and thrust. They might have thought they were being quiet, but you couldn’t fuck up against a door without making noise.
    Dag rubbed the back of his neck and drained his beer. So much for his plan not to drink much tonight so he could drive.
    “So what all did she buy today?” Chris asked, moving across the room to look at all the shopping bags.
    Who fucking cared? But Dag made himself smile and look up. “All kinds of shit,” he said. “She dragged me to Bed and Bath.”
    Chris lifted a brow. “She dragged you? She said you had nothing better to do.”
    Heat crawled up Dag’s cheeks. He tried to look casual. “Whatever.”
    “I hate that store,” Chris said, apparently not even noticing Dag’s discomfort. He peeked into a bag. “Huh. Towels. We’ve got a million towels. We both had towels.”
    Dag shrugged. “I guess you needed more.”
    “What are these? They look like flag poles.”
    “They’re curtain rods, dipshit. Get with it.”
    Chris glanced at him and they both laughed. Some of the hot tension eased out of Dag and he rose to his feet. “Where should I put this?” He held up the empty bottle loosely by the neck.
    “I’ll take it.”
    Chris disappeared into the kitchen, and Dag heard Kassidy’s steps. He turned. She walked in, cheeks pink, eyes sparkling but otherwise looking all put together and sleek. Her dark hair hung in a silky curtain to her shoulders and she wore a short purple dress that draped over her slender body. Hot.
    She tugged at the hem of the dress and bit her lip. “Damn, this dress is short.”
    “It looks great.”
    Her eyes met his. Her eyelashes fluttered and her cheeks got even pinker. “Thanks.”
    “Hey, you’re ready.” Chris walked back in. “You look awesome, sweets. I just called a taxi.”
    Dag didn’t mention that he’d intended to drive. Now he’d have to somehow get back here tomorrow to get his car. Dammit.
    “Did you see what I got today?” Kassidy asked Chris.
    “Towels. Why’d we need towels?”
    She frowned. “Yours are about a hundred years old, all frayed and thin.”
    “Oh.” And Chris’s eyes met Dag’s in a masculine exchange of “whatever”. They grinned.
    “Let’s go wait outside,” Chris said. Kassidy picked up a little purse and walked ahead of them on sandals that consisted of a spiky heel and a couple of thin straps across the top of her