Everett clung to her chignon, gently guiding her mouth over him as his eyes rolled back and his neck strained with pleasure. As he twitched in her throat, he tried to pull away, but she reached out, keeping him inside of her as he pumped his essence into her throat. She took it all, aware of the answering twitch of pleasure as she pulsed around Marcus once again.
When she’d released Everett from her lips and he fell back on the pillows, Marcus rolled her toward him, putting her back to his chest. He thrust harder, faster, his gaze holding hers, and then he roared and pulled away from her, coming between them. He collapsed down, his head in the crook of her neck, her head in Everett’s lap, and with the fire dying down across from them, the room heavy with the scent of sex, she drifted off to sleep, so completely satisfied that she could barely stand to think of it.
Chapter 8
Marcus sprawled across his bed, Naomi tucked into his side, her bottom flush against Everett’s pelvis as he lounged on the other side of her. After five long days together, this was how they often spent a languid, rainy afternoon. And it was becoming all too comfortable.
It wasn’t that they didn’t do other things. He and Everett investigated her case. They had easily dismissed any lovers the earl had taken at Donville, just as he’d known they would.
And when they weren’t working or fucking, they simply…were. Everett would read aloud from a novel or Naomi would play pianoforte for them. They took walks in the tiny garden behind his home.
It was all very comfortable. Very…right.
Which was terrifying beyond measure. And every time he felt it, Marcus dove into the one thing he could control: the passion. He would touch Naomi, and Everett would join in, and soon it was fingers and mouths and a physical connection that set everything on its head because it was so easy and pleasurable.
Everett stroked his hand along Naomi’s hip with a sleepy sigh, and then he reached out and rested it on Marcus’s thigh. He jolted at the touch, the touch that sent electricity up his body, made him half-hard just looking at Everett’s hand so close to his cock.
Thatwas the thing he’d been avoiding for a very long time. The thing that would bring this all crashing down. Even now Naomi was looking at that hand, at his thigh, and slowly she lifted her gaze to his face.
He jerked from the bed and turned away, grabbing for his trousers on the floor. He didn’t have to look back to know that Everett had a look of hurt on his face. That Naomi was confused by it.
“I should get back to work,” he muttered, trying to pretend normalcy to reduce the tension of the moment. “I’d like to question some of your late husband’s servants.”
He looked back to find that Everett was staring at him, his jaw tight. Naomi had sat up, covering herself with the sheets. She smiled, but it was lined with tension.
“If you think you’ll go to my home, would you ask about arranging more clothing for me? I’d like a few more dresses.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
Everett gently extracted himself from around Naomi. “I’ll go with you,” he suggested.
Marcus held up a hand. The last thing he needed right now was to be alone with Everett. That would only lead to trouble on too many levels to fathom.
“No,” he said, sharply. Too sharply. Cruelly, though he didn’t mean to be. “Stay here. Naomi shouldn’t be left alone.”
Everett opened his mouth, and Marcus knew that he was going to say they had left her at least twice in the past few days. That she was safe with their protective and well-trained staff on hand.
Marcus didn’t allow that. He just pivoted and exited the room, shutting the door to his dressing room hard enough that he hoped it left no room for either of them to follow. As he hurriedly dressed himself, he shook his head.
He’d let himself enter a fantasy world since Naomi entered their lives. One that gave him a brief glimpse at a future he knew he couldn’t have.
Now he had to get his head on straight. And remember what he was and why what he wanted wasn’t something he could truly ever have.
Naomi watched as Everett stood naked at the window, staring out into the rainy bleakness of the afternoon. He had not moved in five full minutes, and her heart ached at the way his shoulders rolled forward. At the way his pain was clear on every line of his strong body.
“Is he angry with me?” she asked, though she knew the answer. It was obvious.
He faced her slowly and she saw him fighting to maintain his composure. He shook his head. “No, not you.”
She swallowed hard. It was evident that if she pushed, she would open a Pandora’s box. One she had sensed existed for a long time. One that had been unlocked today when Everett touched Marcus as they lay together.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked.
He bent his head. “I’m not certain you would understand.”
She folded her arms at the way he subtly locked her out. “You think I wouldn’t understand that there is a connection between you? One that has nothing to do with me and simmers beneath the surface whenever you are together?”
He jerked his gaze to her face and shrugged. “We’re friends.”
