Her Fantasy Read Online Free Page B

know?”
“Know what?”
“Stop teasing me, Warren. The other thing.” Her face burned. “The threesome thing.”
Warren chuckled. “No, not at all. I’m sure he’ll be up for it, if you are. The important thing is that you and I trust each other, and that means I’m not going to say anything until I know he fits your…requirements.”
Requirements? Heat washed over her as her arousal grew. She glanced at Joe’s back and the solid muscles that flexed easily as he carried their bags into the house, and any embarrassment she felt was short-lived. This was too enticing. She had to pull herself together—and fast—because she wanted to be ready for whatever happened. “You set this up, didn’t you?”
“I prefer to think that I…made it available for you.”
“How do you know he’d want to, if you haven’t talked to him about it?”
Warren shrugged. “He’s a red-blooded male. He’d be mad to turn down the opportunity to get his hands on a woman like you.” He hauled her in against him, one arm around her shoulders as he whispered in her ear. “If you want him, he’s yours. I think you could handle it. I’d like to see another man hungry for you….”
Anya almost tripped over the doorstep, images flashing through her mind, images of bodies entangled and Warren in charge. He’d lit the fuse inside her, and something deep and irrevocable had flared in response.
     
     
     
    “Good?” Joe asked, when she finally put down her fork.
Anya sighed heavily as she finished her meal. “Superb. Easily the best lobster I’ve ever tasted.”
Joe clapped his hands and stood up, stacking the plates. “My work is done.”
“Not quite.” Warren smiled across the table at Anya.
“Warren.” She laughed softly into her wineglass, her face heating. He’d been tightening the circle, as the day passed. After an afternoon spent strolling along the shore to the nearest town for provisions, and the earlier part of the evening cooking together, things were getting more intimate all the time, and that was Warren’s doing. He was definitely in charge, and she liked that.
“Let’s adjourn to the sitting room.” Warren pushed the wine bottle into Joe’s hands to distract him.
Anya rose to her feet, following the two men into the sitting area. It was difficult to drag her thoughts away from Warren’s suggestion. She kept imagining what it would be like to be between them, their hands roaming her body. Her sex tightened and grew damp at the very thought of it. Mercifully, Warren didn’t turn the lights on. Anya knew he was observing her, they both were, and the atmosphere crackled. Joe’s eyes had become increasingly filled with curiosity as he surveyed the pair of them over the course of the evening, as if he knew something was afoot.
Moonlight flooded through the large glass doors that led onto the deck, and the candles from the table in the dining area beyond still burned. It gave a mysterious atmosphere to the occasion. Warren had put a CD on a portable player. The mellow music and the sound of the waves washing up on the shore beyond seemed only to emphasize the feeling of expectation that was building between them.
The place was sparsely furnished, with one sofa and a couple of patio chairs. Joe sat cross-legged on the floor. Warren took one of the patio chairs.
Anya settled onto the sofa with a cushion cradled against her hips and her legs curled under her, anticipation humming beneath her skin. “Warren was right, you’re very talented. Did you always want to be a chef?”
Joe nodded. “I used to compete with both my mother and my grandmother for time in the kitchen. I’m half Italian, and it was hard to muscle in there when the women were in charge.” He winked.
As he chatted on about his beginnings as a chef, Anya studied him. She could see the Italian heritage, despite his London accent. He was a warm, friendly man…easygoing. While he’d prepared their meal, he’d been happy to share his secrets with her in the kitchen. His liberal sense of humor quickly warmed