0°Celsius: To thaw a frozen heart
Chapter 13

Jen spent the rest of the afternoon updating her blog and trying not to stress over what she and Cash had seen earlier. The idea that Carson might be an adulterous jackass made her want to drive to his apartment and lay into him, but Cash had convinced her not to talk to her brother until she cooled off a little.

Probably a good idea. She and Carson rarely saw eye to eye on anything—get them in the same room together and they were bound to argue. But she didn’t want to fight with him about this. She wanted a mature, adult conversation, in which he explained why the hell he’d been holding hands with another woman.

“You okay?” Cash asked as he collected the cardboard containers from the dining room table.

They’d ordered Chinese for dinner, but Jen hadn’t tasted a thing. She’d spent the entire meal staring at her phone and battling the urge to call Carson.

“Nope. Maybe I should call him now.”

“Or maybe you should call him tomorrow like we agreed. You’re still too pissed—I can see it in your eyes.”

“Aren’t you pissed?”

“No, because I maintain there’s a reasonable explanation for what we saw.”

She helped him clear the table, wishing she shared Cash’s confidence. Cash, however, hadn’t been around when Carson was in his manwhore prime, while Jen had had a front-row seat.

Her mouth flattened as she carried the leftovers into the kitchen. First thing tomorrow, she was confronting her brother, and he’d better have a damn good explanation.

Cash must have sensed that she’d boarded the angry train again, because he held out his arms and said, “C’mere.”

As if a magnet drew her to him, she sank into his strong embrace, shivering when his lips brushed over the top of her head. His woodsy scent enveloped her, his powerful arms providing the rush of comfort she’d needed. God, whenever he held her, she turned into a puddle of mush.

“No more thinking,” he said, running his hands over the small of her back. “Let this go until you talk to Carson, okay?”

She exhaled slowly. “Fine, but I might need you to distract me. Like a sexy kind of distraction.”

He laughed. “The sexy distraction will have to wait. Dylan’s on his way over, remember?”

“Oh yeah, football. I forgot.”

“You don’t mind, do you? I could cancel.”

“No, don’t do that. He’s already on his way.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and stepped out of the embrace. “I’m going to hop in the shower. If you want some guy time, I can hang out in the bedroom tonight.”

Cash tugged on her ponytail and brought her mouth to his again. “No way. You’re hanging out with us and watching the game. It’ll help get your mind off this Carson situation.”

“You sure I won’t be intruding?”

He chuckled again. “Trust me, Dylan will love having you around.”

Right. Dylan, AKA Cash’s go-to threesome pal. At the memory, a flush heated her cheeks.

Cash clearly didn’t miss the blush, because he offered a dry grin. “No threesome tonight,” he assured her. He arched a brow. “Unless you want one.”

Her whole body tingled in response. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged. “Just throwing it out there. Dylan’s a bit of a slut, so you never know what’ll happen when he’s around.”

Jen studied his face, realization dawning. “You’d be up for it.”

Another shrug.

“You totally would,” she exclaimed. “I can see it on your face.”

“Sure, I’d be up for it.”

His light admission startled her. “Wow. You’re really into it, aren’t you?”

The molten heat in his eyes disrupted her pulse and sent it careening. “Of course. There’s nothing sexier than a woman turning her pleasure over to two men.” Without letting her digest that, he gave her butt a little smack. “You taking that shower?”

“Oh. Um, yeah.”

She felt slightly dazed as she wandered off toward the bathroom. What did it say about her that the thought of being with two men turned her on?

And Cash would actually be up for sharing her with another guy? It continued to surprise her how open-minded he was about sex. He didn’t balk at anything.

Her nipples puckered as the idea crept into her mind once more. She banished it, ordering her head out of the gutter. Cash’s friend was coming by to watch football, not to ravish her, for fuck’s sake.

She ended up taking a long shower, allowing the hot water to ease the muscles that had been tied in knots all day. She washed her hair, shaved her legs, lathered lavender-scented body wash on her skin. By the time she toweled off and walked into Cash’s room, she felt loose and relaxed.

She spent the next ten minutes blow-drying her hair, then brushed it until it shone and left it loose. She dressed for comfort—leggings, sports bra, and a turquoise top with a wide neckline that caused the soft material to fall off one shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, she applied some make-up. Mascara, subtle eye shadow, a dab of lip gloss.

The effort she went to for her appearance was more for her own sake than Cash and Dylan’s. She always felt better when she looked her best, and there was a spring to her step as she left the bedroom.

Male voices sounded from the living room. Jen’s pulse quickened, a reaction that had her rolling her eyes. Okay, enough. Just because Cash had broached the subject of threesomes didn’t mean one was in the cards. Besides, she didn’t know a thing about this Dylan guy, save for the fact that he was a SEAL, and, apparently, a slut. For all she knew, he was completely unattractive and someone she would never dream of—

The thought died when she entered the room and laid eyes on their guest.

Okay. Well. Unattractive was not the adjective to describe Dylan Wade.

Movie-star gorgeous was more apt. Or maybe female wet dream.

“Hi. You must be Jen,” he said in a deep, easygoing voice. His expression was downright smoldering as he unabashedly checked her out.

A bolt of heat struck her as the golden Adonis rose from the couch. He was around the same height as Cash, six-foot-plus, but fair where Cash was dark. Jen couldn’t hide her appreciation as she swept her gaze over his chiseled face—green eyes the shade of ripe limes, a killer grin, sexy dimples.

His body didn’t disappoint, either. Long muscular legs were encased in dark-blue denim, and a 49ers jersey stretched over a sculpted chest. The sleeves of his shirt revealed corded biceps and roped forearms.

She was tempted to ask him to do a little twirl so she could assess whether the back of him was as delicious as the front, but she had no doubt that it was.

Jen finally found her voice. “Hey. And you must be Dylan.”

She stuck out her hand, but rather than shake it, he grasped her fingers with his and raised her knuckles to his lips, brushing a fleeting kiss over them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he drawled.

From his spot on the couch, Cash snorted. “Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?”

“Can’t help it,” Dylan called without taking his eyes off her. “I’m overwhelmed by her beauty.”

Another snort cut through the air.

Dylan ignored his friend and gave Jen a long once-over. “I’m serious. You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Um. Thanks.”

“Hey Romeo, how about you sit your ass back down so we can watch my boys claim victory?” Cash suggested.

Dylan shot her a lopsided grin. “McCoy actually believes his shitty team stands a chance of defeating mine. Clearly, he lives in a fantasy world.” He took her hand and led her toward the couch. “Come on, let’s watch his bubble burst.”

The next thing she knew, Jen was sandwiched between two SEALs, who proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes trash-talking each other as their respective teams took the field. Their good-natured taunts and creative insults kept her in a state of much-needed laughter. By the time the game’s first quarter came to a close, she’d managed to put all thoughts of Carson and his marriage out of her mind.

When Dylan disappeared into the kitchen to grab some beers, Jen glanced at Cash and grinned. “I like him.”

“Everyone likes him,” he answered dryly. “I can honestly say that motherfucker’s the most charming person I’ve ever met in my life.”

She couldn’t disagree. Those laughing eyes and devilish grins were definitely having an effect on her.

“Look what I found,” Dylan announced. He held up a bottle of Patrón, grinning like the cat who’d swallowed the canary.

“What happened to beers?” Cash asked. He’d slung his arm over Jen’s shoulder, and she was enjoying the way he carelessly dragged his fingers over the top of her arm.

“You want a beer? Fridge is that way,” Dylan replied, jerking a thumb at the kitchen. “But I’m gonna get my Patrón on. Who knew O’Connor had such good taste?”

Retaking his seat, he unscrewed the bottle and brought it to his lips. He swallowed with a contented sound, then held out the bottle.

“What do you say, Blondie? You gonna pansy out and stick to beer, or are you in the mood for something that’ll make you burn?” Dylan waggled his eyebrows in challenge.

A smile stretched across her mouth. “I guess I could use a burn.” When Cash frowned, she offered a little shrug. “I need a distraction, remember?”

“Fine, but you’re not allowed to pass out, okay?”

“Deal.” She accepted the outstretched bottle and took a small sip. It burned, all right, all the way down to her stomach. But almost immediately, warmth spread through her and buzzed pleasantly in her veins.

She handed Cash the bottle. After a beat, he slugged back some tequila.

“Oh, get ready for it,” Dylan said with a whoop, his eyes focused on the TV. “Ten yards…five…touchdown!”

A new round of heckling ensued, courtesy of Dylan as San Francisco scored. But then Arizona answered with a touchdown of their own and it was Cash’s turn to deliver some verbal abuse.

Jen couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. During halftime, Dylan regaled her with stories, everything from childhood anecdotes to bad dating experiences. The guy was charismatic as hell, not to mention gorgeous as all get-out. She couldn’t help checking him out, admiring his classically handsome face, his ripped arms, those hypnotic dimples.

Cash caught her ogling more than once, but he didn’t seem put off by it. He simply grinned knowingly before taking another shot of tequila. Dylan had brought out three shot glasses sometime during the second quarter, and the amber liquid in the bottle had slowly begun to dwindle.

Jen definitely had her buzz on, but she also knew her limit, so when Dylan tried coaxing her into another shot, she shook her head and raised her hands in surrender. “One more and I’ll go from tipsy to flat-ass drunk.”

“Maybe I’m trying to get you drunk,” he responded, his dimples making another appearance.

“Why, so you can talk me into a threesome?” The words flew out before she could stop them.

“Why, is that something you’d be interested in?” he countered.

She felt herself blushing. “No,” she lied.

His grin widened. “I think you would.” He glanced at Cash. “You didn’t tell me the LT’s sister was such a bad girl. If I’d known, I would’ve come over days ago.”

Cash rolled his eyes.

Dylan shifted, leaning into the arm of the couch. Expression gleaming with mischief, he locked his gaze with Jen’s and said, “So, the idea of being with two dudes turns you on?”

“Maybe a little,” she relented.

He cocked a brow. “What else turns you on?”

She shrugged. Her cheeks were scorching. And somehow, in the span of a few seconds, she’d become wildly aroused. She squirmed on the couch, tried to ignore the zip of heat moving between her legs. From the corner of her eye, she caught Cash grinning at her again. Bastard was enjoying watching her squirm.

“Come on, Blondie,” Dylan prodded, “tell me all your turn-ons.”

When Cash had the nerve to chuckle, she scowled at him. He thought it was funny, huh? Letting his friend tease her like this? She swallowed to bring moisture to her dry mouth, deciding that maybe Cash needed to do some squirming of his own.

“Well,” she said slowly, “I’ve always wanted to watch two men together.”

Although Dylan’s eyebrows soared, he didn’t blanch or seem the slightest bit horrified by the idea. If anything, he looked intrigued. “Really,” he mused.

“It doesn’t freak you out?”

“Why should it?”

Before she could blink, he tugged her toward him. She squeaked in surprise, her pulse racing when he touched her cheek. His palm was callused, fingertips rough as he skimmed them along the curve of her jaw.

“So you wanna see me and Cash get it on, huh?”

Had he really just said that?

Her heartbeat thudded at triple speed as his words generated a slew of images in her mind. Images of these two sexy guys touching and kissing and… Oh boy.

“What do you say, McCoy? Should we give Blondie a show?”

She twisted around, needing to see Cash’s expression. She figured he’d recoil at the idea, but he looked more bemused than appalled. “How drunk are you exactly?” Cash asked his friend.

Dylan just laughed and wrapped his arms around Jen. Rough hands stroked her shoulders, and his touch unleashed a flurry of shivers, leaving little flashes of heat in its wake. She locked eyes with Cash, but he didn’t seem at all bothered that his friend’s hands were all over her.

Her mouth ran dry again. Dylan’s hands traveled down to her waist, teasing the sides of her breasts on their southward journey. She shivered again. Every muscle in her body coiled tight with…anticipation?

Lord, what was she anticipating would happen?

The alluring possibilities swirling through her mind got her so wet she clenched her thighs together and slid off Dylan’s lap, afraid he’d feel the dampness of her panties right through her leggings.

Sucking in much-needed oxygen, she stumbled to her feet. “I’m craving ice cream,” she blurted out. “Anyone else want some?” Without letting either man respond, she fled to the kitchen.

As Cash watched Jen hurry off, he was unable to resist a low chuckle. He glanced at Dylan, who seemed equally amused. “Quit toying with her,” he told his buddy. “You’re making her nervous.”

“I’m making her hot,” Dylan corrected with a barely contained grin.

Yeah, no doubt about that. Cash hadn’t missed the flush of arousal on Jen’s cheeks or the way she kept shifting in pure sexual discomfort. His dick stirred as he imagined the wetness he’d replace if he slipped his hand between her legs.

Now he was the one shifting around, a motion Dylan didn’t miss, judging by his husky laughter.

Jen returned with a carton of Choctastic Verryberry Swirl and a spoon. Rather than rejoin them on the couch, she settled in one of the recliners, as if a distance of four feet would alleviate the hot promise of sex thickening the air. She stuck her spoon into the carton, her gaze darting from Cash to Dylan, her cheeks an enticing shade of pink.

Cash glanced at the game flashing on the screen, but found he could no longer concentrate. Jen and Dylan were now engaged in an unmistakable eye fuck that should’ve made him jealous, but didn’t.

“You know, sitting all the way over there won’t save you, Blondie,” Dylan said lightly. “You opened this can of worms.”

“Why, because I dared to say the word threesome?”

“Yep.”

Jen glanced at Cash as if to ask for help.

He shrugged. “Sorry, sweetheart. I warned you he’s a slut.”

Looking frazzled, she swallowed another spoonful. Cash was tempted to march over and kiss her. Her lips would be cold from the ice cream, but he’d warm them up, no problem. Nibble on her bottom lip for a bit. Lick his way into her mouth and taste the chocolate and strawberries on her tongue.

He quelled the urge. Truthfully, he was curious to see how far she’d let this go. He hadn’t been lying before—he found threesomes hot as hell. He knew some guys didn’t like sharing, but Cash didn’t see it that way. A woman’s pleasure mattered more to him than his own, which was why he’d been so dismayed to hear that Jen’s former boyfriends hadn’t bothered to make her come. Hearing a chick cry out in orgasm was the ultimate turn-on for him, and he knew from experience that women lost their fucking minds when they had two men dedicated to driving them over the edge.

And he knew the idea intrigued Jen. She’d dropped so many hints about it she might as well have advertised her curiosity on a billboard.

“Come back to the couch,” Dylan urged.

Jen’s gorgeous tits heaved as she drew in shallow breaths. “I’m good here, thanks.”

She scooped out some more ice cream. All the blood in Cash’s body pooled in his groin as he watched her suck on that spoon.

“What’ll it take to get you back here?” Dylan asked with a taunting lilt in his voice.

Once more, Jen turned to Cash.

He suppressed a laugh. “Hey, you were the one who gave me the rock-your-world and try-new-things speech. Everything that happens next is up to you.”

She gulped.

Dylan patted the couch cushion. “Your call, honey. But you should know—Cash and I have a lot of experience in making a woman feel good.”

Cash sized up her expression, noting the temptation flaring in her eyes. She wanted this. Anyone could see it. All the same, he refused to push her into doing something she wasn’t comfortable with, and he knew Dylan wouldn’t be insulted if she chose not to go through with it.

But he hadn’t anticipated his friend’s determination to lure Jen to the dark side.

“If you won’t join us, maybe we’ll just have to entertain ourselves,” Dylan announced.

Wait, what?

Dylan slid across the couch toward him.

He blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Fulfilling the lady’s fantasy.” Dylan was so close Cash could smell the guy’s aftershave, see the five o’clock shadow rising on his jaw.

“I think you’ve had a little too much to drink,” Cash said gruffly. When Dylan’s hand reached for his zipper, his brows shot up. “You can’t be serious.” And yet neither of them missed the note of interest in Cash’s voice.

Hiss. Dylan dragged down the zipper, shooting him a look loaded with an unexpected amount of heat. “Come on, McCoy, you know I’m a firm believer in the try-anything-once philosophy.”

Next thing he knew, his friend’s hand slid beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and…yup, Dylan’s fingers were wrapping around his dick.

Which hardened.

Like instantly.

And not just in a semi, look-at-that-someone’s-touching-me way. It went stiffer than a flagpole, rising from zero to full mast in two seconds flat.

His gaze flew to Jen, whose eyes had grown wide. Her mouth slackened as if she couldn’t fathom the scene in front of her.

He couldn’t quite fathom it either, but God help him, he couldn’t seem to stop it. When Dylan squeezed his shaft, his body arched involuntarily, his erection eagerly jutting into that rough hand. A drop of precome beaded at his tip, and he saw Jen’s eyes fix on that pearly drop.

“You like it,” she accused, sounding both awed and aroused.

“He likes it,” Dylan confirmed with a chuckle.

The base of his spine began tingling as Dylan jacked his cock. His friend’s hand was bigger, rougher than a woman’s, his strokes more forceful. But it didn’t hurt. Dylan knew exactly how much pressure to exert, which didn’t surprise Cash—he supposed only a man would know how much force another man could take.

What did surprise him was his visceral reaction to the feel of a strong, masculine grip on his dick. Mouth dry, pulse racing, palms damp. Dylan kept pumping his cock, squeezing the head on each upstroke. It felt so damn good, Cash let out a groan.

Dylan studied his face, green eyes darkening with arousal and flickering with an unspoken question.

Cash responded by easing his pants down his hips, giving his friend a better handle on his package. Dylan swiped his finger over the moisture seeping from Cash’s tip and spread the sticky substance along the rock-hard shaft.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jen moaned.

Dylan released him and gave a half-smile. “Should we make her hotter?”

When his friend moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, Cash knew exactly what he planned to do. The urge to resist warred with the need for release. He sat there. Torn. Turned on. Ready to explode.

He thrust his dick back into Dylan’s hand, then groaned when his friend squeezed so hard it ached. He closed his eyes for a moment, but they snapped open when the couch squeaked and that wicked hand disappeared.

Dylan had slid onto his knees on the floor, and Cash glanced down in time to see his friend’s lips close over his engorged head.

He jerked, overcome with sensation. Oh, fuck. That felt criminally good.

He groaned when Dylan sucked harder, each wet tug stoking the fire. The lust pulsing in his veins was so powerful, so startling, that he pulled out of the other man’s mouth.

“You okay?” Dylan rasped, peering up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Just like that, his resolve crumbled. Screw resistance. If Dylan was into it, and Jen was into it, then he might as well go with it.

“I’m good,” he said hoarsely. And then, shoving his hand in Dylan’s hair, he guided that hot male mouth to his cock and settled back to enjoy his first blowjob from another guy.