Patrick hesitated on the line. “I think it’d be best if he told you himself after he’s better. I’m checking on him again tomorrow.”
Lucy admired Patrick for going the distance for his friend and for protecting his privacy, and wondered if Beck understood how much he cared about him…about them.
“I miss you, Lucy.”
“I miss you, too. I wish I could do something about it now.”
Patrick’s soft groan said it all. “You don’t know how tempting that offer is. I have to get Patrick fed and ready for bed.”
Lucy liked that his son was his highest priority. “It’s okay. I have an early morning meeting with the owner of one of the buildings downtown.”
“What kind of meeting?”
“Let me tell you…”
After they ended the call, Lucy ran a warm bath and listened to soft music while she read a book in the steamy tub. Images of Beck as they’d disrobed him in her bathroom two weeks before kept flitting through her mind. It wasn’t just worry about him that kept distracting her from her romance novel. Even in his less-than-ideal state, she’d felt attracted to him. And the thought that he was unwell made her want to take care of him. Why she had to be attracted to someone who could be so irascible was beyond her.
She nudged the faucet with her toe to let a little more hot water into the cooling tub and tried to focus on her novel. She finally gave up and got out. At least her sore muscles felt better, even if her mind was still busy worrying about him.
The thought that Patrick was at home with his son while she was at home alone made her miss him, too. She didn’t want to cause problems for him with his family or with nosy neighbors by spending the night. That wasn’t her style anyway.
Oh fess up, honey. You know you’d be over in a heartbeat if he called you.
She wanted very much to pick up right where they’d left off before, this time without the interruption. She was torn though. Part of her wanted both of them and being with Patrick alone seemed disloyal. But in Beck’s current state of mind and health, there was no telling if they’d ever work out what they were—friends or something more.
Face it. You’re horny.
Eschewing a nightgown or pajamas, she climbed into the bed nude. Snuggling down into the sheets and comforter, she rolled into the spot where he’d lain and imagined him still there, only she was between him and Patrick.
Memories of the sensation of Patrick rising over her, his cock nudging at her cunt which had still been quivering from orgasm, sent heat straight to her pussy. She’d wanted him so bad and the moment had felt so right. Her cunt clenched with need and she moaned when she slid her fingers between her legs and found herself drenched and slippery with need.
Thoughts of the two of them taking control, having their way with her, made her even hotter. She rubbed circles around her clit as her imagination took hold. Beck would crowd her and push her limits. Patrick would touch her all over and consume her with the same relish as when he’d eaten her pussy. The memory made her cunt tighten and throb as she continued stroking herself and she felt the sizzling rise toward orgasm.
Beck would hold her tight. His kisses would be all-encompassing, claiming gestures intended to show her that he knew what she needed. Patrick would lick her, and touch her, and love her until the flames of passion consumed all three of them. They’d draw her into the center, between them, and stroke her and tease her until she was soaked and begging for them both. She’d probably come before Patrick even slid all the way into her pussy while Beck impaled her ass with that big cock she’d gotten a glimpse of. Even when not aroused, he had been very impressive, and she’d nearly known the joy of Patrick sliding his rock-hard shaft deep inside her—
“Oh, yes!” she cried out as the orgasm slammed into her and she could almost feel them inside her. She ground against her hand and rolled to her side as the waves of orgasm barreled through her until she lay there panting with her head spinning. Her pussy tingled as she turned out the light and clutched the pillow Beck had rested his head on, inhaling deeply, hoping for a trace of his scent, but none was there.
Chapter Four
Mid-March
Sitting in her car outside the Twisted Bull in Morehead, Lucy looked at her cell phone and growled softly. No calls. No texts. The same as every time she’d checked since Beck had gotten sick the month before.
“Fine. He can’t do me the decency of calling to let me know he’s still alive. I’m not worrying anymore.”
In the last few weeks, the absence of information from Beck had allowed her imagination to work overtime.