Polished Page 9

  “Ready for some fun in the sun?”

  “Rory sure is looking forward to it. I think she’s packing everything in sight. What time should we head out there?”

  “I’m sending a car to come get you two; should be there in about an hour. There’s no way you want to be sitting in that Hamptons traffic without a minibar and a good movie.”

  “You don’t have to do that, man. But shit, thanks. The only thing I hate more than traffic is crowds.”

  “And maybe dark places full of water.”

  “Yeah, that too.”

  “So Rory’s looking forward to the weekend, but how about you?”

  Spencer had thought he’d managed to sidestep that question. “Oh, you know. I’m not much for hobnobbing with the rich and the richer, but it’ll be nice to get away.”

  Jack laughed. “Is that what you think we’re going to be doing? Hobnobbing?”

  Spencer grinned in spite of himself. “Dude, I know you’re not laughing at me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jack struggled to calm his voice of any chuckles. “Just get on out here and make sure you bring your appetite. I’m barbecuing tonight.”

  “How much beer do you have?”

  “Plenty, don’t worry.” Jack paused a minute. “Oh, and feel free to use the privacy screen in the Escalade. It’s a long ride.”

  Spencer’s cock surged on that last note. It wasn’t a subtle hint, not the kind you could ignore even if you wanted to. “Nice. See you soon.” Spencer hung up and fought the urge to wait by the window. Instead he made his way to the bedroom where Rory had half of her closet laid out on their bed.

  “Jack’s sending us a car in an hour. So baby, do you think you could start putting some of this stuff in your bag?”

  “A car? Wow.”

  Spencer furrowed his brow a bit. “Don’t be too impressed. It’s probably no big deal to him.”

  Rory climbed over her suitcase and held both arms out in front of her. Spencer caught the bulge of her cleavage in his gaze as she came to him in her bra and panties. He licked his lips, thinking of Jack’s hint about the ride over.

  “I didn’t mean to sound so ga-ga over it. We could drive ourselves.”

  “What? Why? There have got to be some perks of knowing someone with that kind of cash.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted to hang out with him just for his cash.”

  “No.” Spencer’s neck stiffened. “You know that’s not what I’m about.”

  Rory quirked her lips and toyed with him with her eyes. He knew that expression. Sometimes she could read his mind, and that look told him she was doing it right now. But she didn’t make him speak anymore about it. She was kind enough to always let him spill his guts when he was ready.

  The car came before Rory was finished with her makeup. He’d never seen her so obsessed with how she looked. “Babe, come on already. You look amazing.”

  “Just get my bags, OK? I’ll be right there.”

  He sighed and grabbed up the satchel from the bed. By the time he returned, she was still in the bathroom. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out into the hall. “Ok, that’s it. You are perfect. Let’s go.”

  Rory huffed, but didn’t struggle. “All right, fine. I’m ready. You got everything?”

  “Yep. All loaded up.

  “Then take me to my chariot, kind sir.” Rory was all teeth. It was nice to see her smiling and relaxed. The last week had been one big ball of stress for her. He was looking forward to spending the weekend hearing her snorty, cute as hell laugh and enjoying her smile.

  He held the door open, making a big show of it. “Getting prissy on me, huh?”

  Rory craned her neck and did a catwalk strut out the door.

  “It looks good on you.” He smacked her ass as she passed him.

  Rory shot him a playful sneer and he tossed his arm on her shoulder. Of course she melted right into his embrace. She was his girl, from his core to hers. One day he’d make it a permanent condition.

  The car smelled new and could hardly be recognized as the same mode of transportation he endured every day. Driving was more like floating in this living room on wheels. The engine was whisper quiet with the temperature control set for perfection. The seats were huge, each one big enough for two. He turned to watch Rory, laughing heartily at the romantic comedy playing on the screen in front of her. There was plenty of room to have her bouncing in his lap. A little more than an hour and a half to make her come at least three or four times. He’d engaged the privacy screen almost as soon as they’d taken off. After a rum and Coke for each of them, he was starting to imagine all kinds of uses for their semiprivate arrangements.

  He crept his fingers inch by inch along the leather seats toward her. She caught him before he made a dive for her thigh.

  “What are you doing?”

  Spencer cracked a wry smile. “What?”

  “Don’t think we’re going to get into any of that in this car, mister,” she said with a giggle.

  Spencer pulled her closer in one swift motion. “Come on, Ror,” he whispered. “You love the idea.”

  She made a face, stubborn with her jaw fixed. He pressed his lips there and her mouth turned into a soft pout. “Why do you make me want to do these things?”

  “I’m not making you do anything.”

  “No, but I could blame you if we get caught,” she purred, letting her legs fall apart.

  He held her jaw, turning her face and aligning their lips. “I’ll take all the blame,” he said before plunging his tongue into her mouth. The cotton sundress she wore rode way up her thighs, revealing the absolute softest and creamiest thighs he’d ever had the pleasure of sliding between. “Aw baby,” Spencer growled.

  She giggled and jumped into his lap, her hair falling into his face. It smelled like peaches and vanilla and he could have drowned in it. “There is someone on the other side of that partition, you know.”

  “I know,” he said. “That’s the whole point now, isn’t it?”

  She nuzzled his nose with hers. “What do you think we can get away with?”

  “Everything, if you can be quiet.” She seemed to like the sound of that, because she crushed her lips against his so hard it caught him by surprise.

  He grabbed two big handfuls of her ass, shoving her into his groin. She pushed away, but only to tear at his zipper. Heaving her tits in his face, she didn’t have to ask him to free them from the scoop neck of her dress. When one was in his mouth, the other was being worshipped in his hand. She had his cock firmly now, dragging her panties to the side and guiding his growing staff to where she wanted it.

  “OK, you asked for it,” Rory whispered with a very naughty glint to her eye. She rolled forward on him, sinking him deep inside her soft, wet cunt. Her mouth fell open with the start of a moan. Instantly Spencer reached up and covered her mouth with his hand. She did the same, cupping her palm over his lips as her hips corkscrewed, successfully saving him from repeating her indiscretion.

  Spencer bucked his hips and held her by the waist with his free hand. She nodded, indicating that she appreciated his efforts, soft whimpers escaping past his fingers. And then she was coming, fast and hard. Even as she collapsed on top of him with a single silent, yet violent shiver, she was whispering in his ear, “Again.”

  She popped off his lap, taking advantage of the roomy backseat to lift her ass into the air, gripping the handle above the door, which was meant to help old ladies exit the car. He watched her peer over her shoulder with gritted teeth and a demanding look on her face. Spencer was up for her challenge, running his fingers into her hair until he had a handful and entering her from on low. He made slow work of her this time, drawing out his own orgasm for as long as he could. They were in bumper-to-bumper traffic, after all. There was no rush. He could be inside her forever. The only thing to add to the sensation was the knowledge that Jack had predestined the whole thing. He liked that idea, liked the fact that Jack had thought about them toget
her in the car he sent for them. It was almost like he was there too in a small way.

  “Fuck, baby. I’m coming.” He spent himself deep inside her as predicted, as promised.

  * * *

  Rory raked her fingers through her hair, imagining the wild mess it must be in after Spencer had his way with it. She lowered her window to enjoy the cool coastal air of early evening. It couldn’t be much longer to Jack’s house. The trip to the Hamptons was notoriously tedious, or so she’d heard, and the reality of the two-and-a-half hour stop-and-go nightmare that was the Long Island Expressway would have been a true buzz kill had she not been so delightfully distracted.

  Spencer looked pleased with himself and he had every right to be. He had somehow managed to make her come three times in the confines of a backseat. But instead of feeling relaxed and sated, Rory felt energized and even more excited than when they’d started. She glanced again at Spencer. His eyes still glinted with intensity, his mouth set in a self-satisfied grin.

  At last they approached a gated driveway hidden among ancient-looking pine trees. The gate sat open, however, welcoming them onto the fine gravel that led to the weathered cedar home with white painted shutters on its arched Palladian windows.

  Rory caught her breath at the first sight of the home.

  “It’s not that big,” Spencer said.

  “But it’s beautiful,” Rory replied. “This is going to be a really great weekend. I just know it.”

  They exited the car. The driver retrieved their bags from the cargo area, but Spencer quickly moved to help him. If the quiet man from Priority Car Service had any clue about the party they’d had in the back of the Escalade, he didn’t let on. Somewhere deep down, Rory hoped he at least suspected.

  The door to the house was unlocked too, with a note perched on the hall console table: Out back for a swim.

  Looking out through the wall of windows in front of them, Rory pressed her lips together and then read it again. “I’m not sure if this is an invitation or just an FYI.”

  “If you want to go swimming, babe, it’s fine with me, really.”

  Rory studied his face. Spencer certainly wouldn’t be joining them. Casted ankle aside, neither swimming pools nor the ocean held much appeal to Spencer, but the jewel-colored sky over the sprawling sea called to Rory like a siren.

  “Later. Come hang on the deck with me first. The sunset is just gorgeous.”

  They dropped everything and slid open one of the glass doors. The sound of the ocean was something she hadn’t known she missed, until it was filling her ears again. They took a seat on two loungers that faced the water. Off in the distance a single figure popped out of the waves. The beach hooked sharply on one side and a large rock formation provided a natural screen between the Rothman property and the rest of the community. Rory waved out to the figure jogging in from the surf, splashing with long strides through the water.

  Jack drew nearer, dripping wet, his board shorts stuck to his thighs, highlighting every slope of muscle. Spencer made an effort to stand, ready to greet Jack like an old buddy. Both men were smiling, happy to see the other as they joined hands in the air followed by a swift and sturdy pull to one another’s chests.

  “Sorry dude, I got you all wet.”

  “Some way to treat your guest,” Spencer jibed.

  It caught Rory’s ear to hear his dry humor shared with Jack. That was something Spencer only did with the people he felt the most comfortable with, and Rory could count those people on one hand.

  A moment passed as Jack seemed to decide on a comeback, all the while his eyes blazing across the barely there quirk of Spencer’s lip. Then suddenly Jack grabbed him into a bear hug and drenched him completely.

  Spencer’s surprised laugh was only slightly louder than Rory’s.

  “How’s that?” Jack said once he’d let him go.

  Soaked now, Spencer returned to sitting on the lounger, the grin still fresh on his flushed face. “These Hamptons guys… No manners, I guess.”

  Jack turned his attention to Rory. “Hello again,” he said with a cool hand on her shoulder. She intended to return an equally simple greeting, but somehow her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth while she inhaled the sea from his glistening skin. “You’re not opposed to getting wet, are you?”

  Rory wondered if that was also an invitation. Jack appeared to have a habit of keeping things playful and vague. “Are you fishing for a hug, Jack?” Rory always preferred candor to riddles.

  His grin turned lopsided. “If you’re handing them out, I’ll take one.”

  Rory stood up and obliged him. The fact that she felt at home against his chest should have surprised her, but it didn’t. What made her jump was Spencer’s hand finding the shallow of her back in the moment Jack enclosed her in his arms. He rested his hand there, flat and sturdy, feeling both like ownership and generosity pressing her into Jack’s embrace. Or maybe she imagined all of that and he was simply getting her attention. A glance over her shoulder and she was still not sure.

  “Rory really needed this little getaway.”

  “A lady should have what she needs,” Jack said. “And right now I think she needs a drink. You too, my friend.”

  Rory liked the sound of that, liked the sound of it all. “What do you have?”

  “Anything, everything. A stocked bar is mandatory at my house.”

  “I’ll have that beer you promised.”

  “And you, Rory?” Jack crossed the veranda to the outdoor kitchen tucked into the corner next to the house.

  “Whatever you’re having. I’m sure it would be more exciting than anything I’d come up with.”

  “Don’t let her fool you, Jack.”

  Jack smiled with boyish mischief. “Don’t worry. I know all about those bookish types.”

  Rory whipped her hand to her hip and winked. “Then whatever you’re fixing, you know to make mine a double.”

  He nodded with amusement. With all the sexual energy flowing around them, she could certainly use a stiff drink.

  Two beers later for Spencer and Rory was still nursing the sweet but wickedly strong concoction that Jack had handed her. She lay back with her feet up while the boys were deep in discussion over the start of college football season. Cool breeze swept over her skin like an endless whisper and before long it all conspired to lull her off to sleep.

  Somewhere beneath consciousness she heard the men’s voices bouncing back and forth, seeming like a serenade of bass surrounding her. She drifted in and out of sleep on the lounger, matching voice to face and face to body…then body to body.

  “Huh, what?” Rory jumped at the sudden cold on her chest.

  “Babe, you spilled some of your drink,” Spencer said, reaching over with Jack’s beach towel. “What was that you gave my girlfriend, Jack?”

  Rory helped him dab at the rosy-colored liquid splashed across her collarbone and staining the top of her sundress. Her eye caught Jack’s over Spencer’s shoulder.

  “Sex on the Beach.” Jack blushed. “Guess it was kind of strong.”

  Spencer’s gaze hadn’t left her. Mild concern knitted his brow and Rory smiled back at him. “It was good.”

  “Looks like it,” he said with a tap to her nose, looking satisfied that she was okay—looking also mildly entertained by the double entendre.

  “Dinner will be ready in a few. Thought we’d make a fire and eat picnic-style on the beach.”

  “I could start to complain that you’re going to too much trouble—” Rory started.

  “But I’d have to find a way to banish that idea from your head,” Jack interrupted. “It’s my pleasure, really. I’m returning the favor to you guys for taking me in.” He held up his hand, oddly close to Spencer’s parted lips. “And I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

  Rory flashed her eyes at Spencer. Returning the favor? Was that all there was to it?

  With flashlights in hand for later, they all helped bring the party down to the well-used fi
re pit on the beach. Rory wondered how many charred beer caps lay at the bottom of it and imagined Jack sitting with his thoughts, tossing them into the flames. He placed a few strategic pieces of driftwood and sea grass and lit a match to set a warming glow upon them in the night air.

  The shish kebabs of chicken and shrimp with the chili and lime marinade Jack had whipped up were amazing—not to mention his mixology skills. Rory finished off her second cocktail with the last of her meal.

  “More Sex on the Beach, please.” She giggled, waving her plastic cup in the air.

  “Oh man, she is toasted,” Spencer said, easing his hand onto her knee. “Maybe I should have some too.”

  Rory liked the way Jack licked his lips when Spencer said that. She felt like she could read his mind, see the flash of something thick and hot pass his face in the firelight. He sucked in a slow breath and stretched the muscles in his neck with a bit of exaggeration. “I’ll be right back with a pitcher.”

  Somewhere under the haze of alcohol Rory knew exactly what she hoped would happen if they all got drunk enough. They’d all have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to notice the energy filling the air around them, bouncing from one to the other.

  She wouldn’t have called it a suspicion. That would have implied guilt, and there was nothing guilty about admitting desire as far as she was concerned. Still, it had been there, sleepily coursing beneath her happy relationship for months now. Spencer was also attracted to men. Even if neither of them knew what to do with that fact, it was there, staring both of them in the face in low-hung board shorts and holding a pitcher of Sex on the Beach.

  Jack dropped to his knees on the blanket and filled her cup. With her gaze darting from Jack to Spencer, she took a heavy gulp. Firelight danced over all of them in the dark, while the waves crashed on the shore just feet away. Everything else was still around them, hugging the moment with anticipation of what she was going to do about it.

  “We look like pagans out here,” Rory whispered.

  “At least one of us isn’t just pretending,” Jack responded, reaching over her to hand Spencer his cocktail.