But those weren’t the complicated parts. That had to do with him being the man Stone Jameson had shared her with. The man who’d awoken her to things she hadn’t known existed. And yes, the man who’d stolen a piece of her heartthat night.
She started shoving her jeans down as she walked to the towel closet. She stripped them off completely and left them on the floor before grabbing a towel.
That night … what happened between the three of them hadn’t been planned. It couldn’t have been because it had come right out of a fantasy. She’d never discussed anything quite like that with Stone, despite their scorching encounters. And Lord have mercy, they’d had some doozies. Stone Jameson had taught her things about herself that she wasn’t sure she ever would’ve figured out without him. He’d taught her what true sexual freedom was and made her realize that her erotic desires were nothing to be ashamed of.
Stevie pulled her sweater off and tossed it in the direction of the dirty clothes hamper. It almost made it, one sleeve hanging haphazardly down the side. She unhooked her bra, slid it down her arms, and flung it in the same direction. Missed.
Nico also played a big part in that self-realization, even as Stone was teaching him the same thing about himself. She knew Nico had never been with a man before that night. He’d told her as much. Later. Much later. More specifically, he’d admitted it the night she was sloppy drunk, waxing apologetic about coaxing him into the situation. It was true. She’d played a huge role, considering she was the one who’d given Stone the nod of encouragement after she’d come outside to find Stone and Nico swapping air beside Nico’s truck. Nico hadn’t known she was there at first, but Stone had. He’d met her gaze over the bed of Nico’s truck, and in his glittering hazel eyes, she’d seen the wild, untamed boy she’d fallen in love with. One nod of her head, encouraging him to take what he wanted, had started the ball rolling.
Oh, man. That night… She would honestly give about anything for a repeat of that smoldering encounter. For just a few hours with Nico and Stone, their skilled hands playing her body like a finely tuned violin. Sometimes, she would wake up drenched in sweat, her entire body charged and aching for release. It pissed her off every time because she knew there would never be another night like that.
By the time she was stripping her panties down her legs, her body temperature had risen, the memories scorching her as they always did.
She opened the bottom drawer in the vanity and retrieved her waterproof vibrator before marching naked into the shower.
There was only one way to stifle the heat from those memories.
***
Nico knew he shouldn’t follow Stevie.
It was reckless and stupid, and… Well, it was apparently inevitable because his feet were already moving.
Since Stevie never stormed out, he was compelled to go after her. He hadn’t meant to ask her such a targeted question. And he certainly hadn’t intended to accuse her of doing something she could do if she wanted. He blamed it on the memories. On seeing Stone today after all these years. When he’d looked into those hazel eyes, he’d been reminded of everything he’d had for that one single moment in time. Everything he’d lost when Stone left town because try as he might, Nico had never been able to replicate what he’d felt that night.
Not a single encounter had lived up to that one. Only a handful had ever come close, but those involved him and Stevie giving in to the lust that still sizzled between them despite their efforts to pretend otherwise. But Nico knew even those hot, dirty encounters would never quite quench that need because, although she came pretty damn close, Stevie wasn’t capable of giving Nico everything he desired.
He marched into her bedroom, nearly tripping on her shoes. He spotted one sock and followed the sound of running water. The puppy was hot on his tail, but he got distracted by the sock, flopping down on his belly to chew on it.
Served Stevie right because Nico knew exactly where she was and what she was doing. Usually, he would turn around and head the other way at a quick clip. Not today.
The bathroom door was open, so he walked in. Her jeans were on the floor by the towel closet, and another sock was directly in front of the shower. It blew his mind that she was so organized at work but a complete and total slob at home.
He turned and leaned against the vanity, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending that seeing this woman naked didn’t drive him absolutely insane. She was by far the most gorgeous creature he’d ever had the pleasure of looking at.
Stephanie Shepherd, whom everyone lovingly referred to as Stevie, insisted she was as masculine as she claimed her nickname was. Nico wholeheartedly disagreed. She was petite and toned from the endless manual labor their job entailed, but there was nothing masculine about her. She had curves where she was meant to have curves. And she was so goddamn soft, so perfectly sleek. She was so perfect—despite the many flaws she was amused to point out at times—Nico could get distracted staring at her.
Which he was doing now.
“I told you I forgive you,” she said, leaning her head back to get her hair wet.
Stevie wasn’t indignant. She didn’t attempt to cover herself, didn’t gasp or squawk about him being uninvited into her personal space. The woman didn’t have a modest bone in her entire body. In instances like this, he found it sexy as hell. Others, when she was merely wandering through the house, usually streaking to the laundry room because she forgot to get her clothes out of the dryer, he found it frustrating. Wanting her and not being able to have her was enough to drive him mad.
“I have no right talkin’ to you like that,” he told her, trying to keep his gaze at eye level, but it was damn near impossible.
“We’re in agreement there.” She grabbed the shampoo bottle and poured a generous amount into her hand. “But I know it comes from a good place.”
Yeah, maybe it did, but that didn’t make it okay.
The steam carried the scent of strawberries through the room.
“What did Oscar want?”
“What he always wants.” She kneaded her scalp, working the shampoo into a lather. “For me to do somethin’ for him. Sex. A job. A place to stay. Today, it was all three.”
Nico didn’t care for Oscar. He was a mooch. Worse than that, he was a mooch with a warped sense of entitlement. The only reason Nico hadn’t warned him off Stevie long ago was because, while he was relentless in his pursuit of her, he wasn’t pushy. He didn’t intimidate or use fear tactics to persuade her. He would ask for what he wanted. When she said no, Oscar respected that. Which, in Nico’s book, put him one step up from total douche status.
Not to mention, it wasn’t Nico’s place to monitor or approve of who Stevie had sex with. If it were up to him, she would not be having sex with anyone but him. But wanting that and telling her that were two very different things. Stevie insisted their friendship was something special. She wasn’t wrong. According to her, sex tended to complicate things. She wasn’t wrong about that, either. So Nico kept his feelings to himself and let her believe their encounters were spontaneous, occurring solely because they’d had too much to drink and didn’t have the common sense to do anything about it.
