The Satin Sash

“I want the sash.”

“The sash is mine until I know for sure.” Tipping his glass to drain the last of his brandy, he assessed his friend as the liquid burned a path down his throat. “How do you feel about kissing?”

Heath shrugged, and Grey set the glass back down with a thump. “Good. So you wouldn’t mind not kissing her. On the lips.”

Heath cranked his head to Grey’s and both his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was the only human being Grey knew who could laugh in silence. It had never bothered Grey before, but now he evaluated Heath with new eyes.

New, wary eyes.

He was as big as Grey, less controlled perhaps. Everything about Heath was black: his hair, his clothes, his eyes, most of all his humor. At work he was tireless, dedicated, steady as a bull, but Grey wasn’t certain how far he could be pushed on a more personal level. He respected Heath; he’d never even tried to bend him to his will before. There wasn’t a doubt that now he had to.

“Toni . . .” he explained. “She likes to kiss for hours. When she wants to kiss, she goes on forever. . . .”

And she poured her heart into those kisses.All of her soul.Those kisses were Grey’s.

Heath raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Agreed. No tongue tangles.”

“And her derriere,” he added, setting a few pens back into the leather cylinder beside his computer.“That would be off-limits too.” Rather than take his chair, he braced his hands on the edge of his desk and leaned forward.“I don’t want us to hurt her, you understand.”

Heath’s eyes glimmered with interest as he rose to his feet, rammed his hands into his jean pockets.“How would we do this, then?”

“Other than that, what the lady wants.”

“Would I get to fuck her by myself?”

“No,” Grey growled, “you would not.”

“I’m supposed to say no if she asks?”

“She won’t.”

“Won’t what?”

“Won’t ask, Heath.” If she did, if she so much as tumbled around with Heath without Grey . . .

“But if she does?”

No. She would not. Having a threesome was one thing. Toni and Heath alone together was something else entirely.

“If she asks,” Grey stressed. “Which she won’t.”

Heath accepted with a nod, and Grey rubbed the tension from the back of his neck. His thoughts were in a tangle, and the feeling had him on edge. He was burning for her. He’d been aroused all day, in the car, the shower, the office. He was still in pain.

Heath halted midstep. “If it’s eating at you, why are you doing this?”

Grey met his gaze head on. “Let’s just say I’m humoring her.” He narrowed his eyes. “Have you been tested recently?”

“Of course.”

A slimy, icky dread slithered through his blood at the thought of anything going wrong. Out of control. Out of his hands. “This is a woman I’d die for. Do you understand me?”

Heath’s lips curled. “You do love her.”

“You hurt her, and I’ll crush you, Heathcliff. I don’t care what we’ve been through.”

His partner seemed thoroughly amused as he hauled the chair back with his ankle and sank down.“And you’ve told her how you feel, Romeo?”

Grey considered not responding to his jibe, then admitted,“She knows how I feel.”