Raising the Stakes: Three of a Kind, Book 2 (6 page)

The second round was brought on by his cock in her pussy and the third by an active session of backdoor sex. Alex’s own orgasm was about the biggest he’d ever had. He broke into a sweat just remembering.

“I love you too,” she’d told him in the car. “More than I ever thought possible.”

It was difficult holding on to her words now, when her face mirrored Des’s turbulence.

“Think we should call it a night?” Jules asked in the stunned silence that followed Des’s exit.

Max nodded. “Might as well. It’s late. We’ll play again next week.”

Hunter gathered the cards together. “Count your chips. I’ll sort out the winnings.”

Megan ignored her booty. She stared out the door, into the dark night.

Knowing he’d regret his words the second he spoke them, Alex leaned close to Megan. “Go to him.”

She turned to him with big, worried eyes.

“Go,” Alex said again. “He needs you.”

“But…” She didn’t finish. Didn’t need to. They were both thinking about their conversation in the car. Megan wouldn’t express her thoughts in front of five other people. She’d never embarrass Alex like that.

“It’s cool, babe.” No it wasn’t. It was very far from cool, but Megan was already looking back at the door, and whether she physically went outside to talk to Des or not, her focus was totally on him. “Go see what’s up with him.”

Megan squeezed his hand and walked outside.

Alex’s heart settled heavily in his stomach. This was not going to end well.

Damn it. She’d thought she’d made brilliant progress with Des.

They’d connected again for the first time since Hunter’s party. Megan even had a sense everything would be okay between them. She was planning on popping in to his place the next morning, regardless of his workload. She’d neglected him long enough, giving him the space he’d asked for. No more. He needed a friend, and she’d be there for him. End of story.

And now? Fun, easygoing Des had looked ready to kill someone right before he marched outside.

Who?

She expected to find him sitting on one of the deck chairs on the patio, but they were both empty. She scanned the garden, giving her eyes a minute to adjust to the dark. Where was he? No shadows lurked on the grass or against the neighbor’s wall.

“Des?”

Silence.

“Desmond? Where are you?”

“Go back inside, Megan.” His voice came from behind the blue gum.

Megan? Des never called her by her full name.

She walked over to him, making out the profile of his body below the canopy of branches. “Enjoying your cigarette?”

He didn’t answer.

“You
don’t
smoke.” What a bullshit excuse.

“I
don’t
want company either.”

Crikey, what crawled up his ass? “I
don’t
care.” She strode over and planted herself in front of him. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” He didn’t move, just leaned on the tree, one foot resting against the trunk.

“Listen up, mate.” She poked a finger at his chest. “I’m getting sick of you pushing me away. You got a problem, tell me about it.”

“I’m not in the mood for talking.”

She bristled at his tone. “Yeah? Well I’m not in the mood for leaving you out here to brood. It’s not your style, and it freaks me out. So why not cut the crap and spill your guts?”

He shook his head. “Go away, Meg. I need to be alone.”

“Or else what?” Yes, she goaded him, but she had no choice. If she walked away now, she’d never get through to him. He’d just carry on shutting her out, and she’d have no chance to help him. Rather push him until he cracked. Get whatever troubled him out in the open. She couldn’t bear seeing him like this. So tense and so edgy she hardly recognized him.

“Or else someone is going to get hurt.”

She snorted. “Did you just threaten me?” The idea of Des getting violent was laughable.

He glared at her.

“Oooh, now I’m scared. The big, bad Desmond wants to hit me.”

“I’m not going to hit you. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh, really? Then why do you look as if you want to smash your fist into something?”

“Megan!” Her name was a warning.

“Will hitting me make you feel better? Will it help get your frustration and anger out?” He needed to get it out. Whatever else he had bottled up inside needed releasing too. He was wound so tight he could snap any minute.

She opened her arms wide, turning herself into a standing target. “Go ahead, take your best shot.” As if he could ever lay a hand on her.

His arms remained at his sides. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Me?” She laughed out loud. “The only one being an idiot is you. Now, I’m going to count slowly to three, and when I reach the magic number, you’re going to tell me exactly what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Emotion radiated off Des in waves. Anger, aggravation and a million other things she couldn’t identify.

“You ready?” She paused, waiting for him speak.

He didn’t say a thing.

“One…”

Nothing. No confession forthcoming.

“Two…”

Des shifted against the tree, the stilted action a clear sign of his agitation.

“Two and half…”

“Megan,” he growled.

“You wanna say something?”

Silence.

“Two and three-quarters.”

“Do not say three.” His words rang clear through the dark night.

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll regret it,” was his gruff promise. “We both will.”

“Is there something you want to say before I finish counting?”

“No!” His breath sounded heavy. Labored.

“Okay. Fine.” She shrugged, glared at him then smiled. “Three.”

Des snapped. “Jesus fucking Christ. You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“Get the fucking reason I cannot talk to you, cannot be with you.”

“How can I get it?” she snapped right back, matching his tone and aggression. “You won’t fucking tell me.”

“That’s because it’s you,” he snarled.

Oh, well that cleared up everything, didn’t it? “What’s me?”

“You’re my fucking problem!”

She froze. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” He punched the tree. “I can’t get bloody far enough away from you.”

His answer hit her like a giant breaker, throwing her off balance and tumbling her, ragdoll style, through the sea. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean back off. Do not come any closer.”

She shook her head, instantly denying his response. He hadn’t said that. He couldn’t have. Not Des. “Why not?”

“Because you’re driving me fucking crazy.” Each word was clearly enunciated, as though he forced them out one at a time.

Spots danced in front of her face, blinding her. Oh, God. He had said it. All of it. To her. She stepped forward, waving an arm in front of her, seeking something to hold on to before she fell. A branch, anything. She found nothing.

“I said stay away,” he hissed.

Tears rushed her eyes as shock gave way to reality.

Desmond’s issue was
her
. She was the problem.

Dear God, how could she have been so dense as to not realize it before? He hadn’t stayed away because of some abstract crisis that had nothing to do with her. He’d stayed away because he didn’t want to see her. It was that simple.

A lump the size of China settled in her throat. She couldn’t swallow it down; couldn’t breathe over it. A sob gurgled in her chest and burst out her mouth.

Des hated her.

“Meggy!” Her name was a soft cry of pain. “Christ, please don’t cry.”

What else did he expect her to do? For all intents and purposes she’d just lost her best friend. “You hate me.” The fact burned her throat.

He emitted a sound like a wounded animal. “I could never hate you.”

Semantics. “You don’t want me anywhere near you.” In her mind it meant the same thing.

“You’re wrong.”

“You just told me to stay the fuck away.” The muscle in her cheek ticked furiously.

His shoulders sagged as though he’d lost the will to fight. “Only because I don’t have the strength to stay away from you anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” she told him helplessly. “You’re talking in circles.”

Des said nothing.

She had no idea what she’d done to deserve his ire, couldn’t fathom where their friendship had gone so wrong. All she knew was she couldn’t stand here any longer. Not when her best friend hated her and her heart was breaking in a million pieces.

She held up her hands in defeat and took a step backwards. Tears ran down her cheeks, spilling into her mouth. Her hurt was too deep to fathom, too endless to comprehend.

Alex. She needed Alex.

“Meg! Wait.”

She backed away with another step. Alex would make her feel better. “So you can find another way to tell me to get out of your life?” She shook her head, confounded. “I don’t think so. Have a happy future, Des. I, uh…” The cheek muscle ticked. “I enjoyed being your friend.”

He let out a fierce snarl. “Damn it, I told you you’d regret this.”

Des moved so fast she had no time to register his actions. One second she was edging towards the house, the next her back was flattened against the tree and his arms were around her, holding her so tight she could hardly breathe.

There was no time to think, no time to object. His mouth crashed down on hers, claiming her lips with savage intent. He kissed her like a man starved for a woman, ravenous for a taste of that which had been denied him forever. It was a feverish kiss that went on eternally, scalding her lips and blowing every one of her defenses out of the water.

She whimpered beneath the assault, stunned not just by Des’s action—so at odds with his words—but by his intensity and demand.

Her thoughts tumbled together in confusion. How could someone who hated her, someone who couldn’t get far enough away from her, kiss her like this?

Her whimper must have registered somewhere in his head because he broke the kiss with a strangled groan.

Megan gaped up at him.

“Christ, Meggy. I don’t hate you.” The huskiness in his voice rasped over her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps wherever it touched. “I love you. So much it’s killing me.”

She tried to answer, tried to put two words together, but couldn’t. Impossible to talk when she couldn’t comprehend what was being said.

His eyes slid shut as though he tried to block out the sight of her. “I love you, Meggy-mine, but you’re Alex’s, and the knowledge is slowly driving me insane.”

She opened her mouth, shut it and opened it again. Des loved her?

“I’m dying. A little more every day. Wanting you this badly and knowing I can’t have you.”

He swore then and contradicting his words, sealed his mouth over hers. This time his lips were soft and tender. Loving. They robbed the air from her lungs and the thoughts from her head. They caressed hers until she grew dizzy and opened her mouth to inhale huge lungfuls of fresh air.

At which point he slipped his tongue inside and claimed her. Made her his.

Reality ceased to matter, ceased to exist. Des pledged his heart to her completely. He swept her off her feet and plunged her into a parallel universe where all that existed was him and her and the exquisite kiss that went on forever, promising a future of happiness, joy and eternal love.

Four years of loving him coalesced into this one perfect moment. Tears fell unobstructed from her eyes as every dream she’d ever dreamed about her best friend came true.

He kissed her with what had to be every iota of feeling he could muster—an identical match for the power of her emotion.

Des loved her.

Desmond Reed, her best friend, the man she’d loved forever and dreamed about for a lifetime, loved her.

She drew her arm back, curled her fingers inwards and, taking strength from every day of the four years she’d loved him and wished desperately he would love her back, punched him in the stomach.

Megan glared at Des as he doubled over, the breath leaving his body in a whoosh. He clutched his middle and staggered backwards.

“You love me?”
Bastard.

He didn’t answer, probably because he couldn’t talk.

“And you choose tonight to tell me?” Mild hysteria was but a heartbeat away.

He looked up at her, still bent over at the waist.

“Four years,” she shouted. “I waited four years for you to say that to me.”

His jaw dropped.

“Do you have any idea how long that is?” She did. Only too freaking well. “Forty-eight months. Two hundred and eight weeks. One thousand, four hundred and sixty days, give or take a day for the leap year.” She’d stopped herself from working out the hours and minutes. Even she knew that was taking things too far. “That’s how long I waited for you to fall in love with me. To give me a sign, something, anything that would tell me I was more than your friend.”

“Meggy—”

“Four freaking years,” she hollered. “And what sign did you give me? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” She sniffed loudly and swiped at her eyes and cheeks. “Then I met Alex, and I stopped waiting.”

He straightened his back, took a step towards her, but she held out her hand, demanding he stop.

“I moved on, Des. I found a man who was open to loving me. Who didn’t view me as a friend and nothing more. And I’m happy. For the first time since I met you there’s someone I love who loves me back.” She shook her head, disbelief squelching any reticence she might have had. “And now,
now
you decide you love me? Now you figure it’s the perfect time to tell me? Are you out of your freaking mind?”

“Yes, Goddamn it,” he yelled back at her. “I’m out of my freaking mind with jealousy. Seeing you with Alex eats me alive.”

“What do you think loving you every day for four years did to me? You think it didn’t make me crazy?”

He grabbed her arm. A shudder shook through his body, reverberating over hers. “You loved me?”

Was that reverence in his tone?

“Of course I loved you. I still bloody do.”

“Dear God.” He stumbled, righted himself and shook his head. “You love me?” His hands were on her shoulders, his face inches away from hers.