The characters below are a product of JE's creativity, not mine.
Jenny (JenRar) I can't thank you enough for your hard work as the beta on this story.
Dina (aydinbydin) thanks for pointing out how sexy a guy's back and shoulders can be, and for suggesting what Stephanie gets to see after her shower.
Chapter 10 – Shade of Blue
Lester's POV
I gave Stephanie some of my clothes that I thought had the greatest likelihood of fitting her well enough for her to be comfortable, and then I forced myself to walk away, giving her some privacy for a shower.
As soon as I returned to the kitchen, I saw Bobby had ripped off his RangeMan shirt, leaving him bare-chested in the kitchen, surrounded by ingredients to pull together the brownies he'd promised Steph.
As soon as he noticed me, he called out, "Quick, while she's in the shower, help me pull these together."
I knew my way around a kitchen enough to keep from starving, and I could make a mean pot of chili, but for the most part, Bobby did the chef thing for us. "I don't bake," I reminded him, wondering why he was spazzing out about this. I'd seen him pull together stuff a lot harder than dessert without a bit of stress.
He nearly rolled his eyes, proving Stephanie was rubbing off on us in all kinds of unexpected ways, but caught himself and said, "I'm not asking you to open a restaurant; I just need to you grate the zucchini."
I rushed into the kitchen so that we could talk quieter and not run the risk of her hearing the obviously plotting he was doing. "Have you lost your mind? These are for Stephanie; she'll use that killer knee against you if she thinks you laced her brownies with vegetables."
He didn't seem the least bit worried about my take on her response. "It's better than the ones Mooner keeps trying to give her."
While I agreed with him, I wasn't entirely sure she would. "She'd rather have pot than zucchini."
"Look, I have no problem with her having an occasional dessert, but there is no reason for it to be empty calories, either. This way, she'll have the sugar she needs and I'll be able to let her eat it in peace because I'll know she's getting fiber and manganese."
"What in the hell is manganese?" I asked before thinking.
"It's a trace mineral that we all need. Basically, it does two things. It aids your body to produce an enzyme responsible for healthy skin and healing, which reduces the stress on your body to maintain the epidermis. And it encourages the production of sex hormones."
"You should have led with the last part," I advised, hearing all I needed in order to want to help. I pulled my shirt off as well, not wanting to get chocolate on it, and hoped if she stayed in the shower long enough there might be a chance for me to press my skin against my partner's.
He smiled, pushed a couple of green squash my way, and instructed, "Shut up and grate so they'll be in the oven before she comes out."
With us working together, we got them mixed and in the pan in under ten minutes. After Bobby put them in the oven, he began to clean off the counter. When he grabbed the bowl, I had to speak up.
"Don't put the bowl in the sink. You promised she could have some dough."
He grimaced, obviously not caring for that idea. "It has raw egg in it. She really shouldn't eat it."
While I had always respected his medical opinion, this was one instance where I thought he needed to drop his rigid rules and just give her what she wanted. I couldn't see the harm in a few licks of raw dough, even with a tiny trace of egg.
I decided to try distracting him in the hopes of changing his mind. I moved to stand on his side of the counter instead of allowing the bar to remain between us. Then I reminded him, "But a promise is a promise, and I'd hate to see her turn on you for breaking your word."
Bobby smiled, and I knew he was going to give her the bowl. "You feeling a little protective for some reason?"
That question was all it took to let me know he wanted to play, and since Steph wasn't known for her speedy showers, I stalked toward him, holding my smile back when he took a step toward the counter and away from me. "Let's just say I have big plans for you tonight, and I need all your parts in working order."
I was right in front of him when he asked, "Is it just me or since we've started hanging out more often with Stephanie, are we..."
The question hung out there, but I knew exactly what he was after, so I finished the thought for him. "…hornier?"
His head dipped slightly in a rare showing of timidity, which only caused my cock to stand up and take notice. "Well, yeah," he agreed with my word choice.
I spun Bobby around so that his back was to me and then pushed so that he was pressed into the counter with my chest firmly against his back. "I'm glad you feel it, too, so I don't feel the need to control it anymore."
He gave a barely noticeable laugh before asking, "This is controlling it?"
As strange as it sounded, I felt like I'd been trying to keep a lid on just how much I wanted him lately. I knew some of it was because he was a sexy guy and being with him physically always left me satisfied and spent. But since we'd been spending so much time with Stephanie, my drive had definitely increased.
I felt like he was waiting on an answer, so I responded, "You have no idea," but the breathless sound of my voice was more telling than my words.
He laughed again, a little stronger this time, and tilted his head back to respond, "I should have made a bigger pan of brownies."
Some part of my brain agreed with that, but it wasn't the part that was in control at the moment. Right now, all I could focus on was the fact that the guy I slept with was pressed against my crotch and neither of us was wearing a shirt, so our skin was touching. That was all it took to short circuit everything else. My hands grabbed his hips forcefully and my mouth landed on his neck. Bobby's head dropped forward, giving me greater access to that place behind his ear that I knew drove him crazy.
I ran my tongue over his dark skin, savoring the taste of him. It was slightly salty, but warm and familiar. I shut my eyes and drew in a deep breath, letting it out over the skin that I'd just wet with my tongue. When he let out a long, low moan, my hips pulled back and then thrust forward, pressing my erection into the valley of his ass.
I knew this body. I knew exactly what to do to drive him ape shit crazy, and I knew exactly how it would make me feel. When I was with Bobby, I felt connected and grounded, and I never had to hold back, because I knew just how strong he was and exactly what he could handle. I'd pushed the envelope with him enough over the years to know what I could give him and to trust that if I ever crossed a line, he'd pull me gently back.
Of course, thinking of crossing sexual lines with Bobby did nothing to slow things down, and I continued to slowly pivot my hips, pressing harder into him and leaving no doubt about the effect he was having on me.
I felt him practically melting against me, which made my mind go into overdrive, envisioning all the ways I wanted to take him before those brownies were done. But before I could get too far with my mental porno, Bobby suddenly straightened up and elbowed me in the abs.
I started to ask him why in the hell he'd done that. I wasn't opposed to rough play, but we couldn't make that kind of noise with Stephanie in the shower. No sooner had I thought that than I realized the water was no longer running.
I heard a moan come from across the room that sounded like someone had just given Stephanie a huge piece of that pineapple cake she loved so much and told her to go at it. I turned my head, careful to keep my hips tight against Bobby's ass. I wasn't one to give a free show of how freaky I could be, and until my dick decided to at least go to half mast, that little soldier was going to have to stay out of sight.
"Sorry, Steph," Bobby spoke first, "We didn't hear the water turn off." Bobby's voice was definitely deeper than usual, and I smiled, knowing how affected he was since his bedroom voice was coming out.
She shook her head and spoke with a dreamy look on her face. "I'd gladly turn the water back on if you two would go back to what you were doing."
I put my forehead on Bobby's naked shoulder and laughed. I had a feeling she hadn't intended to say that out loud.
"What?" she asked, probably wondering what was so funny. Then her face turned a lovely shade of red, and she tugged at the t-shirt as though some how covering more of her body might keep us from remembering what she'd confessed to.
"I didn't take you as one who'd like to watch," I teased her, hoping she'd play along with me.
She put one of her bare feet on top of the other in a pose that was both shy and sexy as hell rolled into one and then responded, "I didn't think I would be, either, but you two are…" Her voice faded, and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Damn, if I kept watching her, I'd never get myself back under control enough to back away from Bobby and not give her a show.
Before she could figure out how to finish that sentence, the buzzer went off, indicating the brownies were done. I was forced to take a few steps back so he could get to the oven and tried to discretely adjust myself, cursing my habit of going commando so that I didn't have anything in place to hold my erection back.
Bobby put the pan on the counter beside the bowl, and I watched as she climbed up on a stool on the opposite side of the bar and pulled the mixing container to her, lifting the spoon to her mouth and using her tongue to clear it off. I wondered if any permanent damage could happen from keeping the blood pooled between my legs for extended periods of time, preventing it from flowing properly to the rest of my body.
I glanced over and saw Bobby watching her with the same sense of strain visible on his face that I was feeling. She was sex walking, and how she could be unaware of the power she held over all men was beyond me.
If I'd had any concerns about how Bobby felt for Stephanie, his next action would have set me straight. He pulled down a small plate, then took the spatula and cut out a large square from the center of the pan and put it on the dish in front of her. "Here. You get the one from the center because it is the best one in the pan," he said, explaining his actions.
Bobby had rules for how things were done, and one of those included starting at one side and eating across in an orderly manner. The fact that he'd just dived into the middle, giving her what he considered to be the best he had to offer, despite it creating a hole in the center of his pan, was telling.
She set the spoon in the bowl and focused on the plate in front of her, giving Bobby the opportunity to take the raw egg coated container to the sink and quickly fill it up with soapy water to keep her from eating any more. She put a bit of the cooked version in her mouth and shut her eyes to get the full tasting experience, letting us know she no longer cared about the raw dough.
"Oh, my God, this is good," she blurted out as part compliment, part moan.
Then her eyes opened, putting me instantly on edge. It was hard to fight a decade worth of reflexes, and that much surprise made me do a quick glance around for possible threats.
"These are delicious, but why did you put something healthy in my dessert?" she asked, letting me know Bobby's attempt to hide the vegetables wasn't successful.
"How did you know there was anything in there other than chocolate?" he foolishly asked.
She gave him a look that was a cross between amusement and disbelief that he'd even ask. "You should know by know that I practically bleed Hershey. So what did you do?"
"Zucchini," he confessed, having the good sense to look slightly ashamed.
She reached over the bar and put her hand on his, squeezing him briefly. "I think if you put a scoop of ice cream on top, I wouldn't be able to taste it as much."
He spun around, pulled out the frozen yogurt from our freezer, and put a small dollop on top of her still warm brownie.
"I said a scoop, not a grazing," she teased, getting him to repeat the serving again to give her what she must have deemed to be an acceptable amount.
On her next bite, she moaned first and then said, "I was right; that is so good."
Bobby put the yogurt away, and I noticed he lingered with his back to us, obviously trying to adjust his cargos with little success.
"So do you guys always cook without your clothes on?" she asked innocently, as though she were discussing the weather.
Bobby and I looked at each other, neither entirely sure how to respond to her seemingly simple question.
I decided to help him out and offered, "We took off our shirts because we were cooking something chocolate and it could stain."
"You wear all black," she stated the obvious, making a point I couldn't refute.
"We do wear other colors sometimes..." Bobby seemed to have found his voice once more. "And out of habit, we took off our shirts to keep them clean."
"If it bothers you, we can certainly cover up again," I said, leaning forward across the bar and pinching a piece of brownie for myself. I couldn't taste the zucchini at all. Knowing how gifted she was at discerning taste made me wonder what other amazing things she might be able to do with her mouth.
Her face was covered in a blush, but she pushed past her obvious embarrassment to respond, "Not on my account. I kind of like the scenery."
At least we had the answer about whether or not she found us even somewhat attractive. Before my mind could go anywhere else, Bobby asked about watching a movie. Stephanie looked down at her plate and then back up, showing she wanted to, but she wasn't keen on leaving her dessert, either.
"Bring it with you, and if you eat it all, we'll refill it for you," I suggested, getting one of her award winning smiles in return.
We settled onto the couch while Bobby got the movie ready to go. I smiled when she sat in the middle, in what I now thought of as her place between us. She pulled her feet up to make room for Bobby and leaned against my side so I could put an arm over her and bury it in her hair.
"You look good in my shirt," I blurted out, thankful she couldn't see my face at the moment. That was definitely not one of my smoother confessions.
She glanced down and replied, "I've never understood how guys' t-shirts get so much softer than mine. I could sleep in this one."
I let my head fall on the back of the couch with the image of her spending the whole night in nothing but my worn Army shirt. I moved a little to make room in my pants for the quickly reappearing issue and tried to think about anything other than how she'd look sleeping in my clothes.
Bobby returned to the sofa and sat down, before grabbing her ankles and pulling her legs across his lap. His hand started moving, first on the balls of her feet, massaging and rubbing, but I knew before the movie was out, he'd have worked from her soles to her thighs. I knew what his hands could do, and I smiled, knowing how even though she was clueless about what we really wanted to do with her, we were still able to give her pleasure in small ways. Of course, that type of thought only increased the pressure in my pants, because I started to think about what it could be like to give her pleasure in more than just these little increments.
Less than thirty minutes into the movie, she'd polished off her third brownie and was beginning to fade, leaning against me. I scooted down so I was more reclined in order to encourage her to lay back more against me. Before the film made it to the midway point, she was asleep and neither Bobby nor I were paying attention to the screen in front of us anymore, focusing solely on the woman sprawled out across us.
"She was exhausted," Bobby whispered, keeping his voice soft to be sure we didn't wake her. "Even for her, she fell asleep fast after she stopped eating. I figured the sugar would jazz her a little, but she's out." He pushed the hair that had crept across her face so that we could see her more clearly.
"I wonder why she was so worn out," I questioned to no one in particular. "She's been getting plenty of rest," I observed, checking under her eyes again to be sure there were no dark circles hiding there.
"I think the distractions take a toll on her that we don't understand. I mean, even on a job like tonight that went textbook simple, she has this need to shower afterward and get the effects of the night off of her," he pointed out. "Maybe it drains her in ways we don't understand."
"Do you think we should talk to the guys about not asking her to do them as much?" I wondered.
"No," he quickly responded. "She'd be beyond pissed if she found out we were interfering in her work like that."
"Was it harder for you tonight?" I asked, curious if I was the only one that felt it.
"You mean watching that skip dance with her?" he clarified, picking up on exactly what I'd been thinking.
"I tried to focus on her, because whenever I let myself look at the skip and saw how much he was enjoying having her close to him, I had to remind myself that if I marched over there and knocked the guy on his ass, I'd ruin the carefully laid out plan to get the skip," I explained my struggle.
"I was relieved when she finally spoke up about needing fresh air, because I was running out of control measures," he confessed.
"Let me guess..." I tried to bring to mind all the things I'd caught him doing over the years to stay calm. "Deep breathes, flexing your hands, counting, and then counting backwards."
"Yeah, but that only got me through the first dance." He smiled ruefully. "By the time they were done, I had gone through my anatomy studies, naming the all bones and muscles in the body, and was about to have to start over from the beginning."
"Hell, at least we're in this together," I commented, getting a good bit of comfort from that fact.
By the time the movie ended, it was nearly 0200 hours. I looked at her sleeping so peacefully between us and asked, "Where should we put her? In the spare room or between us?"
Bobby opened his mouth to respond, but she moved a little, grabbing my arm tightly in her grip, and mumbled, "Stay with my boys."
I guess she settled that then. Bobby moved her feet so that he could stand up and lift her from my side. I missed her body against mine, but I knew having her in our bed was going to more than make up for it.
The only thing that could improve that feeling would be having her there, understanding what it meant to us and returning that feeling in some way. We'd done a good job of finding ways to spend time with her. We'd done everything we could think of to take care of her and watch over her, proving we weren't going anywhere and we weren't trying to change her in the process. We'd tried being subtle so that we didn't scare her off, but the more time we spent with her, the harder it was to do that. I wasn't sure how Bobby felt about it, but I was beginning to think it was about time to be a little more direct about how we felt.
She'd seen us making out in the kitchen, and her reaction had given me reason to hope that she liked it enough that the idea of joining in might be exciting. If we were going to take her dancing again tomorrow night, maybe we could figure out a way to be more direct in what we wanted to have happen.
I laid down on my side of the bed and held out my arms for Bobby to lower her gently against me before climbing in on her other side. We definitely needed to take this to the next level, because many more nights of her in our bed without us being able to act on it was going to make part of my body match the gorgeous color of her eyes. As much as I loved the dark hue on her, I wasn't so sure it would be as appealing between my legs.