Geometry

Chapter 10

Two hours later, after they ate dinner and watched the brief thunderstorm blow across the lake, Marina had Ben and Ray sit in a circle on the sheepskin rug in front of the unlit marble fireplace while she explained the house rules. Spin the Bottle played MacLeod-style involved one empty wine bottle for spinning; one full bottle of what Ray incredulously identified as hundred-year old Glenfiddich whiskey for drinking; and one shot glass.

"Glenfiddich?" Ray asked, seriously impressed. "You like whiskey?"

"No," Marina admitted wryly. "But I'm trying to learn. When MacLeods get drunk, they drink hundred year-old whiskey. It's traditional."

"And who are we to fool with tradition?" Fraser said innocently. In a drinking contest, his friends stood no chance, he was nearly twice Marina's weight and he had forty pounds on Ray, who was whipcord muscle over bone without a spare ounce of flesh.

"Correct." Marina nodded as she filled the first shot, a little hitch in her breath the only clue to how much it had shaken her to hear Duncan's oft-repeated comment in Ben's voice. "As your hostess, I will demonstrate the proper procedure. To wit, make the toast, do the shot, spin the bottle, kiss the boy." She lifted the shot glass. "To my guests." She set it to her lips and threw it back with a quick, professional snap, set it down and reaching out, spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist. It spun around several times and eventually stopped pointing at Ray. She smiled sweetly at him and leaned forward.

Ray reached out and slid a hand behind her neck for balance, hovered his lips above hers a moment, inhaling her breath, before lowering his head and sampling her mouth. Ah, lovely. Girl flavored with vintage whiskey. Christ, but he wanted to suck on that soft lower lip. His fingers tightened on her neck before he broke the kiss regretfully.

Ray's fingers caressing Marina's neck as he let go was a delicious reminder of how good his and Ben's hands had felt all over her back and shoulders, but she managed to keep her voice steady. "Your turn, Ray."

Ray filled the shot glass with a steady hand and saluted Diefenbaker, who was doing his best to hog one entire couch. "To the furball who introduced us." He tossed it back effortlessly and snapped the wine bottle, which spun briskly and ended up pointing conveniently at Fraser. The gold flecks in Ray's eyes glittered hungrily in the waning light at his partner.

Fraser's expression was perfectly steady as he leaned forward and Ray took that as a challenge. Sometimes Frase was so damn polite it irked him. Let people walk all over him, took rations of shit he didn't deserve, got regularly shafted by the system he risked his life upholding. And still had to be alpha wolf of their pack and fight to protect Ray at every opportunity. There were times Ray would have given anything to wipe that smug expression from his face.

"Take this, Mountie," he muttered as Fraser got close, and had the satisfaction of seeing his partner's eyes widen in surprise as his mouth closed over Fraser's and ravaged it. No quarter asked for and none given, Ray plundered that mouth, felt Fraser's lips part before his onslaught in a surrender so willing Ray caught himself going farther than he intended, pulled on by that enthusiastic submission. Nice to see that dominance problem didn't extend to all areas of his partner's life. They'd been kissing about twice as long as he and Marina had, but when Fraser tried to ease back, Ray caught Fraser's chin in his fingers and held him immobile for another long moment, nipping at Fraser's lower lip before letting him go. Fraser's eyes were dazed and smoky with heat when he did. Ray took that as a victory. "Your turn, Ben."

* * *

Six rounds later, after Fraser ended up drinking double the shots Mina and Ray had and racking up more kisses than he'd probably had in the last year, they called a short break.