Chapter Four
Paige took two men into bed with her. Unfortunately, it was Ben and Jerry. Fortunately, it was New York Super Fudge Chunk and she chased it with half a bottle of Merlot. She had ripped up the cheerful paper announcing her ex-husband’s wedding to the slut he’d cheated on her with. An hour later, though, she went back and taped it together. Which was an adequate metaphor for her relationship with Fred. He would make her mad. She’d do something rash. And then she’d try to smooth things over.
There was a very large list of things Paige would rather do than go to his wedding with homewrecker Barbie. In fact, attending that wedding was right under getting a root canal without Novocain and explaining to her mother-in-law how to reset her wireless router.
Still, there was a little defiant part of her that wanted to walk into the reception with a gorgeous guy on her arm and be able to tell all of their old friends how much happier she was running a bed and breakfast than she ever was being Fred’s wife. Paige had spent ten years as his glorified maid and unpaid administrative assistant, while he was banging Barbie, who it turned out was an IT professional in his office building. Barbie must have spent a lot of time under his desk fixing his internet connection or something.
Spooning a big gob of chocolate ice cream into her mouth, she took some pleasure in the fact that now Fred’s mother would be calling Barbie to fix her computer instead of her. And she was pretty sure that Barbie’s coq au vin wasn’t as good as hers, either.
Scraping around the container to get the last bits of chocolate, Paige wondered when the hurt would go away. She didn’t mourn her old life. She didn’t miss being at Fred’s beck and call, and she certainly didn’t miss the sex. Well, that’s not completely true. She missed the orgasm part a whole lot, but more often than not, Fred wasn’t around for those, either.
She tossed the empty ice cream pint into the trash can and brought her wine with her to light the candles around the room, then put on soft music and took out her vibrator. Draining her glass, she lay back on the bed and put it on a low buzz. As she circled her nipples with it, she replayed the scene from the pavilion in her mind.
Paige squirmed and turned up the vibrations as she rubbed the device harder over the sensitive tips. She liked seeing Jack’s muscled back and firm ass while he pleasured his husband on his knees. Tucking away the guilty feelings of intruding on their personal moment, she trailed the vibrator over her silky nightgown, down to her belly, and then rested it between her legs.
Turning the vibrator on its highest setting, she touched her clit with it and let it buzz over it while picturing Jack taking Dean from behind with a passion Fred had never shown her. She imagined being in Dean’s place, feeling Jack’s body slap into hers with a force that shook the bench.
“Oh,” she moaned. Her voice echoed back to her and she flinched. She usually wasn’t this loud. Fuck it. She was the only one here. “Yes!” she cried out, moving the vibrator through her slick folds while she imagined Jack fucking her. “Yes, Jack!”
Paige quivered, feeling naughty. “Fuck me, Jack. There. Right there.”
Her body arched upward, rising to meet a phantom lover. Her limbs trembled as the little device sent vibrations through her. But she didn’t want to forget Dean, talented, toned Dean. He had to have his turn. In her fantasy, after Jack had his way with her, he let Dean have her. Once Dean lifted her up into his arms, she wrapped her legs around him. He pressed her against the walls of the pavilion and fucked her hard, making the flimsy building shudder and shake, as if he was going to fuck her through the wall. Paige pictured herself burying her face in his neck as his big body pleasured her.
Slipping the vibrator inside, she pretended it was Dean. “Dean, please,” Paige moaned. “Harder. Fuck me harder. Oh Dean. Oh yes.” She screamed as her orgasm took control over her body, curling up into the fetal position and letting the buzzing shake through her.
When the wave of pleasure faded, she turned off the vibrator. Her feelings of fulfillment crept away to melancholy. How fucked up was it to masturbate while thinking about your gay friends? How the hell was she ever going to face them tomorrow?
…
Paige was talking to Mrs. Sundby when Jack and Dean showed up the next morning.
“We’re going to start on the third floor,” Jack said, brushing a kiss on her cheek as he walked by. Her nipples tightened as a flash of her fantasy came to her. Hard on the heels of the unexpected arousal, she nearly swooned when Dean also kissed her. She had half turned her face to him before she realized what she was doing. And his lips brushed her lips instead of her cheek.
He grinned at her. “Good morning, sunshine.” He held up a bag of doughnuts. “Is the coffee on?”
Nodding, Paige was at a loss for words for a moment. He had no idea he had just rocked her world with that little kiss. It took a moment before Mrs. Sundby’s words penetrated the thick fog of desire that had come over her.
“So I told him that if he wanted to keep my business, he would have to take down his signs.”
“Good for you,” Paige said, not wanting to let Mrs. Sundby know that she hadn’t been listening.
It seemed to work. Mrs. Sundby beamed at her. “Your parents would be so proud of you. I bet they can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place.”
The smile froze on Paige’s face. “Yeah, can’t wait.”
They actually wanted a progress report, which she’d been putting off because it wasn’t as if they were her shareholders and she had to present her budget to the board of directors. But they acted like that. The last time she outlined her plans, her father had nickel and dimed her about shopping around for cheaper help. She didn’t want cheaper help. She wanted her friends. She wanted Jack and Dean. The real reason her parents didn’t want her hiring Jack and Dean was because they didn’t agree with their lifestyle, but Paige didn’t give a shit. And her parents didn’t like that one bit.
“I should get going,” Paige said, hoping Mrs. Sundby would get the hint.
“Your bed and breakfast is going to really help with the tourist traffic this year.”
She wasn’t sure how her ten rooms would make a difference one way or the other, but it was nice to hear some support anyway.
“Are you booked solid?”
She wasn’t even booked through the summer. “I have a few more openings,” Paige hedged. “I’m full for the month of June and July. It’s going to be here before you know it.” The house was sound. The air conditioning was holding, and so far the plumbing was as good as you were going to get on an island. It was just the little things now, she told herself, although it should have been ready a month ago.
Why did she always wait until the last minute to do things?
See, she wanted to tell Mrs. Sundby she didn’t need to call her parents. They were already here. In her head, nagging and chipping away at her confidence.
Mrs. Sundby nodded. “Don’t worry, dear, you’ll fill the rooms. Just be careful of associating with the wrong people.” She gave Paige a significant look.
“What do you mean?” Paige narrowed her eyes at her, knowing she was probably talking about Jack and Dean. She wanted to hear her say it, so she could make sure Mrs. Sundby knew that she wasn’t going let homophobic douchebaggery go without calling her out on it.
“Anyway, I need to get going. Zsa Zsa needs her exercise.”
At her name, the big black Chow stood up and stretched. She allowed Mrs. Sundby to walk her down the driveway.
“What did she want?” Dean asked. He was leaning a hip against her counter and drinking a cup of coffee.
Jack was a freak and didn’t touch the stuff, but he’d probably come down in a few minutes for a pot of mint tea. Dean had already put the kettle on to boil.
“The usual gossip. John thinks someone is pulling his lobster parts.”
“Pots,” Dean corrected.
She grunted. “Henry at the store had offensive signs up that she made him take down. And Ida’s daughter is pregnant again.”
“What’s that make? Five now?” Dean asked.
“Six.”
He whistled. “Better her than me.”
“You said it.” Her ex hadn’t wanted children. He thought they were messy and unnecessary. Paige would have liked someone to love and fuss over other than Fred, but in the end, at least they didn’t have a child to tie them together after the divorce.
Why on earth was he inviting her to his wedding?
“You’re frowning,” Dean said, pouring her a cup of coffee and setting a jelly doughnut on the table. “Eat that. You’ll feel better.”
“Have you ever thought about going into the medical profession?” she asked him.
“Why? Do you want to play doctor?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Boy, did she.
Paige looked up at him wistfully and then bit into the jelly doughnut. Of course, she got powdered sugar everywhere.
“You missed your mouth,” he said, and scooped up a drop of jelly off her chin with his finger. He licked it off his finger. “Mmm, I like how that tastes.”
Her pulse soared into overdrive. Damn. Paige chewed slowly and swallowed while her scrambled thoughts straightened out. “This was just what the doctor ordered,” she said instead. Dean’s eyes were warm and full of affection.
“Speaking of which, we want you to come over tonight for board games and barbecue.”
“I shouldn’t.” Paige wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her hands off them.
“You should and you’re going to. I have pork ribs marinating and I’m dying for your potato salad.”
All of this sexual tension had to be just in her head. He was lusting after her potato salad, while she was masturbating to them fucking her. But her fantasies were harmless, a byproduct of Fred’s wedding invitation and a burning desire to get laid. They were gay and married, a committed couple who never in a million years would consider her sexually. That forbidden fruit was why she was getting so hot and bothered.
“Now I see,” Paige said, forcing a grin. “You only want me for my world famous—in Connecticut—German potato salad.”
“Not to mention we want revenge on your coup of the dark blue and green properties.”
“I’ll take you to school, if you’re that desperate for a lesson.” Paige rubbed her hands together.
“Them’s fightin’ words.”
“Bring it.” She loved the friendly competition they had over board games and had been surprised they liked them as much as she did. In fact, she learned to play at the Nutmeg Inn and every summer after dinner she challenged the residents to a game.
“What are we bringing?” Jack asked, coming down the stairs. He’d already taken off his shirt, causing Paige’s heartbeat to race again.
She wanted to trace every one of his tattoos with her tongue. Jack’s eyes dipped to her chest, and she wondered if her nipples were poking out of her shirt.
“Paige is coming over tonight,” Dean said.
“Great. Can’t wait.” Jack raised his gaze to her face.
He gave the best smoldering looks.
“I’m looking forward for some payback,” Jack mock growled.
“We’ll see about that,” she managed to quip as she made a fast exit. It was time for a cold shower.