Spirits Shared by Jory Strong

Wanted, her channel clenching,
demanding she lift her shirt and push her panties downward.
    "Let's look at the games," Tekoa said, his
voice strained.
    Face flushed, aware of the arousal wetting
her panties and inner thighs, she followed him to a cabinet next to
the television set. It was packed with board games, along with a
rack of poker chips and decks of cards.
    She glanced at him sideways. He smiled and
it was a feather-stroke across her heart. "My family tends toward
marathon game sessions. What's your preference?"
    "Don't let her choose Scrabble," Clay said
from in front of the sink. "Being a writer gives her an unfair
advantage. The last time I beat her was six months ago, after she'd
been drinking."
    She laughed, the tight heat of need
loosening, becoming a flood of warmth. The only decision she needed
to make right now was how they'd spend the rest of their
evening.
    Her heart demanded she get to know Tekoa
better, though in a lot of ways, she already felt she knew him. But
then, she'd thought she'd known Clay too, before The
Revelation .
    Shadowy ache encircled her heart and
squeezed. Let it go , she thought.
    Would she rather Clay have not told her?
Would she rather Clay have not admitted the truth of his
bisexuality to himself until after they were married?
    No. And no.
    She picked up a poker chip. Not all of them
were created equal and by the weight and texture of the one in her
hand, Tekoa wasn't a casual player.
    She glanced at Clay. That'd make it
fair.
    "My purse is in the car. In all the panic to
get help and then to get Clay taken care of, I forgot about
it."
    Her gaze went to the window. It was pitch
black outside and storming. And given the remoteness, there was
probably no reason to worry about her driver's license and credit
cards.
    "We can keep the stakes low," Tekoa said.
"I'm sure you're good for the money."
    He reached over, pushed a strand of hair
away from her face. Heat flared in her stomach and she had a sudden
vision of the three of them playing strip poker.
    Turning away before he could read it in her
eyes, she said, "Poker it is."
    Tekoa grinned and took the opportunity to
boldly survey the long, tanned legs left bare below the shirt. He
was making progress with her. She was very close to accepting that
the three of them were meant to be together.
    He just had to survive the torment of
wanting to touch her, kiss her, make love to her. She was killing
him, turning him into one huge ache. But in the end, the wait would
be worth it.
    He picked up the chip rack and the cards,
glanced at the mantel above the fireplace and his heart sang. The
cups had been offered and the contents accepted by Clay and
Jessica. Now it was up to the three of them to find their way to
intimacy.
    He didn't have casual sex with the men who
came to the area to hike and climb and camp. It'd been years since
he'd been with another man, but even if that weren't the case, he'd
want Clay.
    He reached the kitchen table. His eyes met
Clay's across the glossy wood. Heat flared between them and if he
weren't holding the chips and cards, he might have reached for his
shaft, squeezed to drive back some of the need.
    It was impossible to drive back images of
Clay kneeling, his own hands fisted in Clay's blond hair as he
thrust his cock into Clay's mouth, of Clay bent over, his ass
cheeks parted…
    Longing shuddered through Tekoa. He set the
chip rack and cards onto the table, forcing his gaze to follow them
there. What came next had to be Jessica's choice.
    He didn't know the details, didn't
understand how or why Clay had kept his bisexuality from her before
asking her to marry him, but when she'd said yes, she hadn't
thought she'd share the man she loved with another man. She hadn't
thought she'd share herself.
    A swell of tenderness intensified his desire
for her. He could wait until she was ready to give herself to him.
He could wait until she was ready to share Clay.
    Clay dropped into the seat to her right.
"First rule, no