Spy Games: Birthday Games by Mia Downing

Spy Games: Birthday Games
    (Spy Games 1.5)
    “Kate wants to give you a threesome for your birthday.”
    Jake Anderson stared at his best friend and buddy, Chase Sanders, sure he’d grown a second head and someone had shoved it up his ass or something. But no, his dark and dangerous-looking friend sat behind his huge desk, playing with a paper clip, looking quite normal in the usual suit and tie combo the boss was supposed to wear.
    What married man told his best friend his wife wanted a threesome? They’d played together, once, and Jake figured as soon as Chase married his blonde bombshell wife she’d be locked up tighter than Fort Knox. But there Chase sat, looking comfy and relaxed in the new leather office chair, offering Jake a threesome.
    “Come again?” Jake wanted—no, needed—to hear the words again, just in case his daydreaming had put them there, in his best friend’s mouth. Kate was Jake’s partner and work wife, and there were times in their job as secret agents for an elite office gaining intelligence for the U.S. that they played married. Kate was everything a woman should be—more brains than a woman had a right to, the deadly combat and bomb-making skills to make evil men weep, all rolled into one tight, curvy body. But she was Chase’s, period. He wasn’t fucking with his best friend’s wife without permission.
    Chase snorted and reclined in his office chair, far too amused for Jake’s tastes. “You heard me. Just because you’re going to be thirty-five in a week doesn’t mean your hearing is going to pot.”
    Seemed like Jake was getting that permission slip mighty damned quick. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as bones—that never made sense to him, since all the bones he’d ever encountered were bloody and broken. “You want this, too?”
    “Hell, yeah. She wants in, you know I’m in.”
    Oh, God. “How in are you?”
    “It’s your birthday. Carte blanche . You can be hostess for the evening. I trust you.”
    “Jesus.” Jake broke into a sweat. He wiped his palms on his slacks, wishing he’d worn something more casual. Cooler than slacks and a dress shirt. Jacket. He didn’t do ties unless someone died or the general showed up. But it was a debriefing and briefing rolled into one, and he was seeing Tia later. “Hostess?”
    “Hostess.”
    Being the hostess meant Chase had just handed him Kate’s reins. In a big way, meaning, he could do whatever he wanted to her and Chase would follow Jake’s lead. There was nothing he wanted more than Kate bent over his lap, her ass blushed pink from a good spanking. Or Kate on her knees, submissive for him. Jake fought a groan. He would be in charge, and it spiked immediate applause on the dick meter.
    It also spiked a hell of a lot of fear, because Jake felt differently now. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but since he’d saved Kate’s life on that first mission of hers, something had changed. Yeah, Chase had been a jealous asshole, had gotten over it, and they’d played together in a mind-blowing ménage experience with Chase in charge. But this new feeling wasn’t about Chase—it was all Kate, and Jake had no name for this feeling other than it was dangerous. “You sure you’re still you? You haven’t been abducted by aliens, killed off and replaced with an android…”
    “You watch too many movies on those trans-Atlantic flights.”
    “You can’t blame me for being a bit cautious. You’re married. Do sane, married men offer their wives to their friend for their birthday?”
    “I guess I’m not sane.” Chase shrugged and chucked the paper clip at Jake.
    Jake caught it and tossed it back. “I never thought you’d share her once you got married.”
    “It’s different this time. Before, I knew she loved me. But now, she’s mine. Truly mine, all of her. I don’t have an issue sharing something that’s mine.”
    Chase was generous to a fault, for sure. Whatever Jake wanted or needed, Chase would have given it