Free Centerfold by Kris Norris Page B

imagined.
    He pushed the ugly thoughts aside. He couldn’t change what they’d done. He could only pray she’d find a way to forgive them. Allow them to spend the rest of their lives making it up to her. Showing her how perfect they were together. How much they loved her.
    He kneeled next to the tub, brushing her hair off her forehead, enjoying the play of her skin beneath his fingers. It was so soft. So damn tempting. And knowing how sweet she’d taste, how wet she’d get, just tortured him more. He wanted her back.
    He lowered his hand, easing the cover back slightly as he stared at her shoulder. Two raised scars marred her flesh, the angry welts barely healed. He knew if he ran his fingers along her blade, he’d feel the outline of every screw holding the plates in place. Her cost for saving his life.
    Footsteps padded behind him. “It was her choice to make, just like it’d be yours or mine. You need to move past that. She doesn’t blame you—”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because I saw the look on her face yesterday when you alluded to the idea you were the reason she got shot.”
    “I was. If she hadn’t pushed me aside—”
    “You’d be dead. Do you seriously think that would have hurt her less? That she regrets it?”
    Roman sighed. “At this particular moment?”
    Aiden chuckled. “Wanting to kick our asses isn’t quite the same as actually wishing you were dead. And I’m pretty sure once she’s made her point, the makeup sex is going to be more than worth it.”
    “Who says there’ll be makeup sex?”
    Roman snapped his head around, pinned by a set of perfectly blue eyes.
    Scarlet pushed herself up, wincing a bit as her shoulder twisted slightly, before leaning against the tub. She tunneled her hand through her hair, tossing the mass of silky strands about her face, making her look every inch the wildcat he knew her to be. She cocked her head over, grinning at them. “But Aiden’s right about one thing.”
    Roman glanced at the man then back to her. “What’s that?”
    “I’d like nothing more than to kick your ass. Both of you.”
    Roman spread his arms wide. “Right here, darling. Get your pretty ass out of that tub, and I’m all yours.”
    “What point is there in kicking your ass when you’re ready for it? I’m not that nice. Trust me. You won’t see it coming until it’s too late.”
    “Suit yourself. We’re not going anywhere.”
    She huffed at his words, the awkwardness between them returning. She sat in silence for a minutes before looking away. “What time is it?”
    “Early.”
    She nodded. “Did they bring the schedule by? It’d be nice to know when I have to psych myself up to head out that door wearing mostly my smile.”
    “It’s not as if we like this any more than you do.”
    “Of course not. Seeing as you two have to strip down…oh wait. That’s just me.”
    Roman crossed his arms, tension straining his shoulders. “Do you really think we want all those slimy bastards gawking at you, wondering what it would be like fuck you?” He shook his head. “I thought you knew us better than that.”
    “Starting to wonder if I know you boys at all.”
    “Not fair, Scarlet. We…”
    A knock sounded at the door. He straightened, motioning to Aiden as the man darted over to the dresser, removing his weapon. Scarlet cursed quietly, climbing out of the tub before gathering the pillow and blanket and carrying it back to the bed. She arranged it on top, making it look natural when the knock sounded again.
    “Mr. Kincaid? It’s Thomas Glade. Can I come in for a moment?”
    “Shit. Get in the bed. Both of you and make it look as if he’s interrupting us.” Roman grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist to cover his boxers as he tossed his shirt aside. “Coming.”
    Scuffling noises sounded behind him, followed by a harsh gasp. He turned, missing a step as he took in the scene behind him. Aiden had stripped off Scarlet’s T-shirt and tossed her on the bed.