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Clapping sounds in the audience, and the lights flash on. Not only is Delila sitting there watching, but so are The Brothers.
“King?” Delila calls out, but her eyes remain on mine. “Try not to break her, because she’s going to have her own act as well as be in yours.”
I subtly clear my throat, so I don’t give away that I let the music take over my emotions. “And what is it exactly that they do?”
Delila seems to ponder over her thoughts and I silently plead with her to give me something. Anything that can prepare for what is in store for me tomorrow.
“A lot.” She flicks off the loose ash at the end of her cigarette. “The cage? That’s part of their act. The Triple Wheel of Death? Also theirs. If you see knives, they’re theirs, too, but my favorite?” Delila grins, standing. “Is what they do to your mind. Nothing can help you prepare for that.” She flicks her hand up and down my body. “Have an ice bath to cure whatever muscles might be spasming and get good rest tonight.” She flashes a grin. “You’re going to need it.” She spins around and leaves me here, alone with all four of them.
“Little Bird,” Killian interrupts my panicking.
“Hmm?” I give him my full attention, mainly because I don’t want to risk looking at Kingston.
Killian’s eyes lock onto mine. Dark blue swirls in a pool of dark water, entrancing me to swim into the deep end. He quirks an eyebrow. “Come here.”
I start walking toward him. I don’t know why, and I can’t stop it, but I do. I’m directly in front of him, standing between his legs, when I feel his palms touch the back of my thighs, his knees spreading wider.
“What are you doing?” I ask. My mouth is moving and words are coming out, but I don’t know where they’re coming from.
Killian smirks as his hands continue up the backs of my thighs. I clench them together to get him to stop touching me, and he chuckles. “Does Little Bird wanna play?”
No. No, I don’t want to play. “Yes.”
Killian looks up at me from beneath his eyelashes, a grin on his mouth. “Touch King.”
What. Why would I touch King? No. No. I sidestep out of Killian’s legs and find myself right between King’s. My heart thunders in my chest as sweat trickles down the side of my temples. King is laid back farther into the seat, his ripped designer jeans hanging leisurely off his hips and his military boots tied loosely at his feet. He’s leaning to the side on his elbow, and his T-shirt is slightly up, showing off his V and the Tommy Hilfiger briefs.
Oh God.
He sucks a smoke into his mouth and blazes the tip, his eyes closing in as he concentrates before bringing them back to mine.
He blows out a cloud of smoke. “Perserva.”
“Put your hands on his knees.” Killian’s eyes darken, flying between King and me.
I do as I’m told, bringing my hands to his knees. I squeeze roughly as the scent of burning nicotine drifts up my nose.
“Remove his shirt.”
Oh my God. No. What the fuck. My hands come to the end of King’s shirt, and I try my best to ignore the electricity that passes through his hot skin and into my knuckles.
Gripping onto the edge of his shirt, I slowly lift it further up. My lips curl beneath my teeth as I fight the urge to obey my body. It’s as though Killian’s words are the strings, and I’m the puppet. King leans forward just enough for his neck to skim over my mouth. Hot skin brushes over my swollen lips.
I suck in a breath, and just as I yank his shirt over his head, he pauses at my inhale. I flick his shirt to the side, stepping backward.
Killian leans into his seat, his cigarette burning between his fingers. His other finger is running over the top of his upper lip, his eyes never leaving mine. The atmosphere kicks up to ardently high levels. “Climb onto his lap, Little Bird.” Killian continues. My eyes shoot to him as panic seizes me. I don’t want to. I know what happens when he’s close to me or touching me. I don’t like it. I don’t like anything that makes me feel things I don’t want to feel, and right now, Killian is making me do things I don’t want to do. Feel things I don’t want to feel.
I look back at King, but he hasn’t moved. His eyes are bleak, his expression bored. I bore him.
Slowly, I step forward and sink my knees into the hard chair that he’s sitting on. Biting down on my lip, I slowly lower myself onto his crotch. My cheeks heat, and my thighs clench.
King is still in the same position, unfazed. Only now, he’s staring up at me, and I’m closer. I don’t like him this close to me. Kingston this close is not a good thing.
