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Authors: Gracie C. Mckeever
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shoulder, then smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with indulging your physical needs, Don. You’re human. I just don’t want you to discount your romantic needs as well.”
I don’t have any romantic needs . But instead of voicing this sacrilegious thought, Donna sighed. “Angie...”
“And if you have two willing subjects at your disposal, what’s wrong with taking advantage of the physical and letting the romantic take care of itself?”
“Does Freddie know you’ve taken up pimping in addition to your matchmaking duties?”
Angela laughed and gave Donna one last rub and pat on the back.
She left to join Freddie, Chance, and Russ at the grill as their other siblings and in-laws followed her lead.
Donna sipped her drink, immediately feeling light-headed and knowing she should get something to eat like everyone else. But she was too busy going over Angela’s parting words and thinking there 60
Gracie C. McKeever
was a definite problem with her theory, as there was only one willing subject at her disposal that Donna knew of, and that was Chance. She hadn’t pegged Russ yet, hadn’t had enough exposure to him. The brief time she had spent in his company, however, gave her the feeling she and he wouldn’t be a good fit.
First, like her brothers, he was almost an entire foot taller than her and, as Angela had said, strapping . She didn’t like big men, though she didn’t usually allow herself to be intimidated by them either, couldn’t in her job. It was difficult, however, to underestimate a man when she had to crane her neck just to look in his eyes. Not to mention she was sure he outweighed her one-thirty by at least sixty pounds.
Unlike Chance, who was about half a foot taller than her five-six, which was bad enough.
Second, she got a definite alpha vibe from Russ, the type of domineering man she tried to steer clear of, not that it had done her much good in the past. She’d specifically settled on Peter because he was as far away from the domineering type, like Bo, as any man could be, and look what that had gotten her. Who knew a beta metrosexual could hurt a woman as badly as an alpha, maybe even worse since she hadn’t seen the hurt coming?
“I didn’t know I would be expected to participate in team sports when Angela invited me to this little shindig. Otherwise I would have dressed for the occasion.”
Donna blinked and turned to see Russ. He was busy pulling the front of his white T-shirt away from his chest in a fanning motion, had taken the barstool beside her.
He smelled delicious, a musky-tangy mixture of deodorant soap, cologne, and perspiration that made Donna lick her lips with yearning as she realized what made him as appealing as Chance, just in a different way.
Where Chance gave off an air of debonair urbanity and gentle diplomat, even in his bad-boy jeans and T-shirt, Russ was his polar Sexual Healing for Three
61
opposite, a hard package of primitive rawness in pressed khakis and the white Oxford button-down shirt that he had taken off since arriving.
One man was an aggressive caveman, one was a tender healer.
Hmm, what’s a girl to do? Who should I chose? Who said I have to?
This is Angela’s party, not mine.
Donna turned to Russ with a smile, tried not to show how much his presence affected her—right to her overheated, tingling skin.
“That’s the Vega and Calminetti households for you. You come for a visit and you’re bound to get dragged into some sort of contest if it’s nothing but a heated game of Monopoly or Spades.”
“Competitive, are you?”
“Oh, very.”
“So am I.”
Donna swallowed hard at his firm, butter-melting baritone and wondered if there was some kind of double-meaning behind the words. Was he throwing down a gauntlet? Telling her he would fight his brother for her? Or that he was just ready to do battle, period?
A little early in the game for that, don’t you think? You don’t even know the man. Who says he thinks you’re worth
I don’t have any romantic needs . But instead of voicing this sacrilegious thought, Donna sighed. “Angie...”
“And if you have two willing subjects at your disposal, what’s wrong with taking advantage of the physical and letting the romantic take care of itself?”
“Does Freddie know you’ve taken up pimping in addition to your matchmaking duties?”
Angela laughed and gave Donna one last rub and pat on the back.
She left to join Freddie, Chance, and Russ at the grill as their other siblings and in-laws followed her lead.
Donna sipped her drink, immediately feeling light-headed and knowing she should get something to eat like everyone else. But she was too busy going over Angela’s parting words and thinking there 60
Gracie C. McKeever
was a definite problem with her theory, as there was only one willing subject at her disposal that Donna knew of, and that was Chance. She hadn’t pegged Russ yet, hadn’t had enough exposure to him. The brief time she had spent in his company, however, gave her the feeling she and he wouldn’t be a good fit.
First, like her brothers, he was almost an entire foot taller than her and, as Angela had said, strapping . She didn’t like big men, though she didn’t usually allow herself to be intimidated by them either, couldn’t in her job. It was difficult, however, to underestimate a man when she had to crane her neck just to look in his eyes. Not to mention she was sure he outweighed her one-thirty by at least sixty pounds.
Unlike Chance, who was about half a foot taller than her five-six, which was bad enough.
Second, she got a definite alpha vibe from Russ, the type of domineering man she tried to steer clear of, not that it had done her much good in the past. She’d specifically settled on Peter because he was as far away from the domineering type, like Bo, as any man could be, and look what that had gotten her. Who knew a beta metrosexual could hurt a woman as badly as an alpha, maybe even worse since she hadn’t seen the hurt coming?
“I didn’t know I would be expected to participate in team sports when Angela invited me to this little shindig. Otherwise I would have dressed for the occasion.”
Donna blinked and turned to see Russ. He was busy pulling the front of his white T-shirt away from his chest in a fanning motion, had taken the barstool beside her.
He smelled delicious, a musky-tangy mixture of deodorant soap, cologne, and perspiration that made Donna lick her lips with yearning as she realized what made him as appealing as Chance, just in a different way.
Where Chance gave off an air of debonair urbanity and gentle diplomat, even in his bad-boy jeans and T-shirt, Russ was his polar Sexual Healing for Three
61
opposite, a hard package of primitive rawness in pressed khakis and the white Oxford button-down shirt that he had taken off since arriving.
One man was an aggressive caveman, one was a tender healer.
Hmm, what’s a girl to do? Who should I chose? Who said I have to?
This is Angela’s party, not mine.
Donna turned to Russ with a smile, tried not to show how much his presence affected her—right to her overheated, tingling skin.
“That’s the Vega and Calminetti households for you. You come for a visit and you’re bound to get dragged into some sort of contest if it’s nothing but a heated game of Monopoly or Spades.”
“Competitive, are you?”
“Oh, very.”
“So am I.”
Donna swallowed hard at his firm, butter-melting baritone and wondered if there was some kind of double-meaning behind the words. Was he throwing down a gauntlet? Telling her he would fight his brother for her? Or that he was just ready to do battle, period?
A little early in the game for that, don’t you think? You don’t even know the man. Who says he thinks you’re worth
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