Free Dancing with Darcy by Addison Avery Page A

reached behind his shoulders and pulled it into a tight ponytail. His blue eyes focused on Sam’s cock.
    “Answer, me. Garrett, I want you to say it. Tell me how much you want me. Tell us how it’s never enough to live in the past. Say it Garrett,” Sam urged. “Tell us about the lonely nights. Damn you, Garrett, how many times did you cum in your hand with my name on your lips?”
    “It’s—”
    “I said, knock it off, Sam. Going all Dom-de-Dom on him isn’t going to make him realize how he feels about us.” Logan inched closer to the bed.
    Sam’s hand cupped the nape of Garrett’s neck. “Baby, you need to tell us what you want. I know how you feel about us. Logan needs to hear it. I don’t. I need you to show me, but first I need you to let go of the past. Let Darcy go and then let us show you how to live again.”
    Garrett didn’t know how. At one time, Darcy filled his life. They grew up together, lived side by side from age five forward. She gave him his first blow job, his first kiss, his first everything. He missed her. He didn’t want to let her go. Sometimes she only existed in his head but it didn’t matter. He held onto her, clutched tight to the memories, held strong to the mental clips of the few sexual experiences they shared.
    On occasion, she visited him in a ghostly form. Sometimes he watched her as she masturbated. Darcy’s ghost understood she shared a strange and unusual relationship with Garrett. She knew it when she 8
    Addison Avery
    was alive and now, even in death, her ghost accepted the strange practices they once enjoyed. Sometimes, they danced. Occasionally, they took long walks. Other times, they shared intimate moments where he simply watched her but somewhere along the way, Garrett lost a piece of himself.
    Sam and Logan obviously realized it. For five years, he’d buried himself in a deep, dark hole and for what? So he could savor the memory of a woman he never fully desired as a man? Yes, hell yes, because in his own way, he loved her. In his own way.
    “It’s never enough,” Garrett finally agreed. “Even when Darcy is here with me, she…” He stopped, deliberately cut off the words he refused to speak. He prevented himself from freeing them because to acknowledge his feelings meant admitting a failure he didn’t want to face—the guilt he carried and possibly even understood now.
    It took Garrett five long years to come to terms with his feelings for Darcy. He never loved her the way she wanted. She always needed more because his desires varied from hers. He ached for something she didn’t have the equipment to supply—masculine and raw sex.
    Searching the pine green eyes of a lifelong friend, he watched Sam as he approached him again as the eager predator, his hard member hanging between his legs. “You need to let her go, Garrett.
    It’s time. I want you to tell me it’s time.”
    “Shit, Sam,” Logan said, “Do you want to fuck him or play the role of his psychologist? Bringing Darcy up right now is so wrong.”
    “But it’s not, is it?” Sam asked Garrett. “It’s not because she’s here with us, right now. Isn’t she?”
    Garrett glanced over Sam’s shoulder. Darcy danced closer and twirled around the small Christmas tree before she curiously looked at one of the ornaments. An angel with broken wings, the piece reminded him of Darcy, especially now, when her body appeared so transparent. Her flaming red hair flowed freely down her back. Her Dancing With Darcy
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    silhouette figure shadowed Logan’s broad shoulders and she peered around his waist before she winked playfully at Garrett.
    “Tease,” he said to the ghost and Logan’s eyes narrowed on him understanding because Logan and Sam often heard him talk to her.
    On occasion, they saw her too.
    Both men ignored the lone word and Darcy continued to make herself at home. She placed her palms on the dresser behind her and jumped up. She missed the flat surface and acted annoyed. Garrett