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Now, as Mac forced himself from the chair and set the cushions right, Jethro cradled the tender, nude body of another man’s wife and felt the first stirrings of regret.
“I’ll take her to the bathtub. ” Jethro didn’t wait for Mac to take her out of his arms. Hell, he didn’t know if he could bear for Mac to take her from him right now. Not until he immersed himself in this feeling, let it ease into his mind and implant itself forever in his memories. He didn’t want to forget it.
“I’ll be up in a few minutes,” Mac stated impassively. “I put the bath salts under her cabinet. ”
There was a ritual to this. Caring for the women who allowed them to share their bodies in such a way. It was a ritual Mac had begun with the first woman he had ever taken with the assistance of another male. It was one Jethro had readily embraced himself once he and Jethro began sharing their lovers.
Or rather, after Mac began sharing his. Jethro had learned early in their friendship that Mac had a way of attracting the gentle, caring women, whereas Jethro always seemed to scare them off.
He moved through the house and headed up the stairs, feeling Keiley’s small hand caress his chest. She thought he was Mac. She was still lost in the dazed aftermath of the powerful orgasms that had torn through her. She didn’t know who held her. She couldn’t know or she wouldn’t be stroking him so gently.
As he stepped into the bedroom she shared with Mac, Jethro couldn’t help but stare at the peaceful, warm atmosphere as he walked through it.
Traditional dark wood was softened with touches of her feminine presence. The flowered comforter over the bed, the vase of dried flowers on the bureau. There was a print of an aerial view of the farmhouse and surrounding pastures on one wall. A print of a fairy in flight on another.
A violet silk robe lay over the end of the bed; a teddy bear that he knew Mac had bought her sat on one end of the dresser.
In this room, the fact that she and Mac suited each other to a tee couldn’t be more apparent. And the fact that he had no place in it had never struck as hard as it did now.
Tightening his jaw, he moved into the bathroom, shifting his precious burden in his arms as he sat on the rim of the large tub.
Son of a bitch. Mac had installed a tub big enough for five people. It was easily the size of the hot tub on the deck behind the house.
Adjusting the water, he kissed Keiley’s head as she began to move about.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You need a hot bath, then you can sleep. ”
“I’m hungry,” she muttered.
Jethro grinned at the telling comment. She had burned off enough calories climaxing between him and Mac that she had every right to be hungry. Hell, he was damned hungry himself.
“We’ll feed you after you soak for a while. ” He grimaced as he pressed his cheek to her hair, closing his eyes briefly before forcing back the regret.
He was the third. He couldn’t let himself forget that. Mac and Keiley were the whole; he was just there to add to the fun for a while.
Where the hell had his mind been when he came here thinking it would be like it had been all the times before? Fun and games. Laughter and pleasure. He hadn’t expected to be affected by Keiley’s warmth and generous spirit, but in the past two days, he had found himself more than affected.
“Are you okay, Jethro?” she asked quietly, still resting against him as he poured the salts into the water and tested the temperature.
“Just making sure the water’s not too hot. ” He closed his eyes again, only to open them again at the sound of movement at the bathroom door.
Mac stood there, dressed in jeans, his chest and feet bare, his gray eyes thoughtful.
His best friend. And Jethro was doing more than lusting after his best friend’s wife.
“She said she’s hungry. ” He copped a grin, flashing it quickly before turning away and lifting Keiley into the steaming water of the tub.
“I’m starving. ” She settled into the water with a blissful sigh.
“What’s your pleasure, sweetheart?” Mac padded into the room, kneeling on the step of the tub to lean in and kiss her swollen lips.
His hand cupped her cheek as her slender fingers curled against the back of his neck. Jethro felt more like an interloper than he ever had in his life. And he had felt that way often.
“I want pizza,” he heard her murmur as Mac leaned back, bracing his arms on the rim of the large tub as his fingertips caressed her chee
k.
“You rest, I’ll order your favorite,” Mac promised her softly, his voice low, intimate as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Jethro can wash your back for you,” he finished teasingly.
