Double Team: A Menage Romance Read online

  Grace

  "God, could this night get any better?" Vi stands in front of me in a private room in the event building with a needle and thread in her hand, sewing the straps back onto my dress. Fortunately for me, Vi has always had a penchant for fashion design and carries a sewing kit in her purse "for fashion emergencies." Her skill with a needle and thread has come in handy on more than one occasion, and the girl can work magic with a little duct tape.

  "Are you insane? Better? What on Earth could make this night worse?"

  "I don't know. Let's see… assassination attempt? Someone chokes on their steak at dinner? Car accident? Poisoning? You lean over a candle and your hair catches fire?"

  "That was a rhetorical question. You're a little morbid tonight."

  "It's a gift." Vi shrugs. "Oh, here's another one."

  "Another cause of death?"

  "Of course not. Another thing that could make this night worse."

  I exhale heavily. "What?"

  "If it hadn't been Noah Ashby that had ripped your dress off and touched your ta-tas. If it had been Senator Richards, that would have been infinitely worse…"

  I nearly choke. Senator Richards is approaching eighty and has a reputation for being rather handsy. He's an equal-opportunity groper, too, crossing party lines and earning him the disgust of pretty much every woman on the Hill. "That's disgusting, Vi."

  "You had Noah Ashby's hands on your boobs. By default, that makes this the opposite of a bad night."

  Heat rushes through me when I think about Noah Ashby's hands. His very large hands, calloused and rough, warm against my skin. The entire thing – my dress tearing, flashing the world, falling against Noah's massive chest… and getting groped by Noah Ashby… was unexpected, to say the least.

  So was my physical reaction to his touch, the arousal that coursed through my body like electricity. I tell myself that it was just a physical reaction, pure instinct, and occurring solely because it's been a long time since a man put his hands on my breasts. That’s what I told myself as I watched him take off out of the building after the guy who took the salacious photos, and that’s what I reassured myself again as I walked back to this room, the throbbing between my legs insistent.

  It was purely a physical response that had nothing to do with Noah Ashby. The man was unlikeable in every way, a gruff, arrogant caveman who called me “sweetheart” like I needed a pat on the head. He was a stereotypical cocky professional athlete.

  Of course, he did donate his ranch to the charity for the summer.

  I refuse to cut him any slack for that. Professional athletes are always doing stuff like that just to get good press.

  I clear my throat. "Not by choice," I tell her primly.

  Vi clucks her tongue. "I'd let him touch my boobs anytime. He's delicious." A look of annoyance must flicker across my face because Vi laughs. "Relax, girl. I'm not going to go after your hot neighbor."

  "What?" I ask, confused. "What does my neighbor have to do with Noah Ashby?"

  "Noah Ashby is your neighbor! I told you, I looked up who bought the house. It wasn't exactly public record, but I was curious, so I asked this guy that I used to date - anyway, how I found out is beside the point. I tried to tell you before you went over there, but you weren't having any of it. You've already seen him naked and now he's grabbed your boobs. You might as well get it over with and get his throbbing rod inside you already."

  I ignore Vi's crude euphemism because I'm preoccupied with the whole neighbor thing. "But I didn't see Noah Ashby naked. He's not my neighbor."

  She looks at me skeptically. "Are you sure? You did have wine that night. You know how you get after two glasses of wine. You have the lowest alcohol tolerance of anyone I've ever met."

  That much is true. You'd think with all of the dinners and events I've had to attend, I wouldn't be such a lightweight, but that's definitely not the case. In fact, I'd be a terrible spy – three glasses of wine and I'd be spilling state secrets like crazy.

  I bring my attention back to Vi. "Yes, I'm sure. I was tipsy, not blind. And the neighbor is definitely not Noah Ashby."

  "So you've gotten to second base with Noah Ashby and you got a private nudie show from another hot guy in the last few days? And you're asking how things could get any worse? You should be thanking the universe for dropping two hot guys in your lap – especially after the long drought you've had."

  "It was not a nudie show," I correct. "At least, not for me. Brooks and Davis saw more of my neighbor than I did."

  Two hot guys. My heart skips a beat thinking about her words. Two hot muscled guys who were shamelessly flirting with me. Well, one of them was, anyway. Noah wasn't flirting. The only reason I was inclined to believe that he wasn’t purposely groping me was that he seemed more irritated about touching my boobs than anything else. That fact alone makes my physical response to him all the more pathetic. My "long drought", as Vi put it, clearly has made me desperate.

  Vi's laughter interrupts my thoughts. "Oh wow. You have the hots for both of them."

  My brow furrows. "I do not."

  "Oh, please. I saw that look on your face. How long have I known you? As if I don't know what that look means."

  "It means nothing because there was no look. I spent exactly one minute with Noah Ashby, and I think he’s the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met,” I protest. “He’s almost as bad as my neighbor. Anyway, Noah is just a donor, and I’m going to go out there and thank him for his donation and never see him again. And we’re both going to pretend that he never saw my boobs.”

  "Technically, he's only felt them, since you were facing the opposite direction."

  "I'm sure he'll see them on the camera, if he can get the photos from the reporter. And if not, he'll see them on the cover of a tabloid, just like everyone else in America. I can already picture the headlines now: "‘First Boobs! President Sullivan's Daughter Bares All! Singlehandedly Destroys Father’s Chances of Re-election!’”

  "'Star-Spangled Tits,'" Vi chimes in.

  "Oh, God, what if Noah is getting hold of the photos so he can sell them?" I ask, panic rising in my chest.

  “Why didn’t you just send Brooks and Davis after the guy?”

  “They can’t go take down a reporter. That would make things worse. My Secret Service detail suppressing a reporter’s First Amendment rights in order to get photos of my boobs back? That would make a great article.” The prick of a needle stings my skin. "Ouch! Watch where you're pointing that thing, Vi!"

  "Maybe if you'd hold still for a second, I wouldn't be stabbing you with a needle," Vi admonishes, yanking on the strap in her hands for emphasis.

  "Maybe if you'd hurry up, we could go see whether I need to have a full-fledged panic attack because I'm going to be half-naked on the cover of magazines across the country - or whether photos of my boobs are going to be passed around the locker room of the football team like some kind of joke - before my dad gets here."

  "Holy shit, your dad will have an absolute meltdown. Do you think he'll have Noah murdered?" she jokes.

  "Even worse. He'll do that thing he does." I mimic my father's voice. "'Grace Monroe Sullivan, I'm profoundly disappointed by the fact that you've caused the spotlight to be focused on you and not on the re-election campaign.’”

  Vi snorts. "Oh, please. Family values, my ass. If that photo of you and Noah polled well, your dad would make it his freaking campaign poster."

  I wrinkle my nose. "Can we not talk about my father and a topless photo of me and a football player in the same sentence again?"

  "Fine. Let's go find these incriminating photos. Just so you know, I'm totally going to look at them, by the way, since I missed all of the excitement earlier."

  I slap her lightly on the arm. "I forbid you to look at the photos. And I’d like to point out that you wouldn't have missed anything if you hadn't been putting the moves on that tech billionaire."

  "What can I say? Stanford Jones is hot in a rich, nerdy way. Beside,