Calling the Shots by Christine D'Abo Page B

in one final breath before his world exploded. Pleasure seemed to come from every place in his body. He lost control, thrusting uncontrollably forward then slamming back onto Josh’s cock. He could feel the come racing from his tip to fill the condom, the blood pulsing in his shaft and in his neck and temple. The only word flying through his head was mine mine mine mine.
    Josh’s fingers dug into his hips before he pounded into him, crying out. Oliver couldn’t move, could only feel Josh collapse against his back. The weight was too heavy for him and they fell in a heap beside Beth.
    Josh worked his way between them, taking care of the used condoms and pulling the sheets up. Josh encouraged Oliver to snuggle against his side without feeling strange in the least that he was in a bed with a man. He’d deal with everything tomorrow. Then the realities of their lives would snap back into focus, and he’d work his head around exactly what all of this meant.

Chapter Nine
    Beth wiped the sweat from her face and neck with her towel, trying not to bump into people as they filtered out through the dojo to the lobby. With everything that had been going on, she’d missed her past few kickboxing classes and had made the extra effort to get here today. The need to work off some of the nervous energy that had been building inside her since she’d spent the night with Josh and Oliver last week had grown to epic proportions.
    Beating the stuffing out of the pads seemed easier than trying to talk to the boys.
    They’d been avoiding her. Well, not really. She didn’t like to think of herself as being overly dramatic, and both Josh and Oliver had been speaking to her, but something had changed. Josh would hesitate before sliding a hand across her shoulder. Oliver would take half a step back from either of them if they got too close. Where they’d once had an easy connection between them, there was now an undercurrent of unease.
    And people said women were the ones who overreacted in these types of situations.
    A bead of sweat dripped into her eye, stinging as it brought the remnants of her hairspray along with it. Beth paused to wipe it away, shifting to the side so the other class members could slide past her. It was a small delay, but enough of one so that when she looked up, she was now face-to-face with a man she hadn’t seen in over a year.
    “Mitch? What are you doing here?”
    He’d been leaning against the wall, and the angle had pulled his T-shirt tight across his chest. “Beth. I need to talk to you.”
    Not when I’m dressed like this you’re not. “I need to change my clothes.” She really didn’t want to speak to him at all. Mitch had ripped her heart out over a year ago, and she wasn’t certain she’d completely gotten over him.
    “I’ll wait outside. Maybe we can get a coffee?” It wasn’t hope in his expression as much as expectation. They’d clicked as friends and quickly become more when they’d worked together at Pulled Long. The fact they’d self-destructed just as quickly proved to Beth that she really hadn’t known him as well as she’d thought.
    “I won’t be long.”
    She skipped her normal shower, though she took longer than normal in getting dressed. She hadn’t seen Mitch since she’d kicked him out, and the idea of spending any time in his company scared her. What the hell could he possibly want that couldn’t be handled via email? It wasn’t as though they could still be friends, not after what he’d done. Beth distractedly said goodbye to a few of the ladies from her class before striding out to the lobby.
    Mitch pushed away from the wall when she emerged from the locker room. They didn’t speak, walking side by side down Young Street, toward Pulled Long, the only place Beth ever went for coffee. She shivered as a blast of wind rolled across them, making her sweat-damp head cold.
    “Here.” Mitch looped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into the warmth of his body.
    For