Free Explosive (The Black Opals) by Tori St. Claire Page A

here.”
    Sure, he didn’t have to—what was he supposed to do? Kick back with his ex fiancée and her new boyfriend and pretend everything was right in life? That they were teens again, and that he’d never been part of her life? That they hadn’t just been tearing each other’s clothes off in her office?
    Right.
    He shook his head again. “I’ve got other plans.”
    Stepping around the coffee table, he whacked his knee on the corner. The sharp jab of pain was enough to sidetrack him from his purpose and knock him off balance. As he braced a hand on the polished walnut edge to keep from falling face-first onto the floor, his gaze locked on Alyssa. Her fingers moved over the back of her skirt, lowering the zipper there. As she turned into McTavish, who set a hand at her hip, the momentary flash of an upturned corner on her sultry mouth told Jayce she deliberately taunted. But the way she looked up at McTavish and leaned into his embrace spoke of rote habit. As if she was completely unaware of her actions and following a long-established routine.
    McTavish looped his arms about her waist. He held her casually, comfortably, against him and looked over the top of her head at Jayce. “C’mon. You just said you were starved. Stay for dinner.”
    Before Jayce could manage an objection, Alyssa shifted a foot to rub the back of her calf with a toe, and her loose skirt slipped. It clung to the graceful curve of her hips, exposing the stark black strap of the thong she wore beneath.
    God help him for the fool he was, but he couldn’t look away.

 
     
     
    E i g h t
     
     
     
    A fter Jayce’s earlier reaction, Alyssa knew taunting him was risky. He might blow up again, might throw his ridiculous perceptions of her involvement with Brice in her face, and if he did, Brice would force her to explain in better detail. But he’d issued a challenge she couldn’t ignore— one night. And the more she turned the idea around in her mind, the more she became convinced he’d have his one night. Under her terms. In so doing, the two of them could move beyond this desire that hadn’t run its course. Get back to their normal lives without unwanted distractions.
    She settled her palm on Brice’s chest, looking up at him. His soft gaze met hers, understanding written in those icy blue depths. His perceptiveness didn’t surprise her—Brice knew her on levels she couldn’t quite grasp. But more than anything, he understood her history with Jayce, the utter self-destruction she’d barely survived, and how she didn’t dare let her control slip to that degree ever again.
    Brice definitely understood. After all, he’d saved her from herself.
    She rose on her toes, leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, “I’ve decided I’m game.”
    When she lowered herself, he arched a questioning eyebrow as if to check her certainty. At her confirming nod, he gave her waist a reassuring squeeze before jumping feet-first into her game. His nimble fingers unclasped the topmost button on her blouse. She flashed Brice a smile and stepped away, turning toward Jayce. As she spoke, she worked her way down the remaining buttons, releasing them with slow deliberateness. Pretending she wasn’t perfectly aware of her own actions. “Let me get out of these clothes and into something more comfortable. Then I’ll start dinner.”
    Jayce’s smoldering gaze held hers. Part anger, part jealousy—all red-blooded, aroused male. He stalked slowly to the couch, resuming his seat, danger emanating off him. But with that warning came resignation, acceptance that he’d been tag-teamed into dinner. A chill wafted down her spine. Maybe she was taking this too far. Maybe…
    No. He wanted one night, and so did she.
    She turned her back and peeled her blouse off her shoulders. Cool air caressed her skin, making her nipples pebble beneath the thin lace of her bra. Heading for the bathroom, she willed strength into suddenly weak knees.
    “Alyssa?” Brice halted