Page 689 of End Game

“Sit still,” Ronan says.

Cami laughs, then leans across the table.

Her hand cups my jaw.

Her mouth meets mine.

Thirty seconds doesn't sound like much.

It is.

Especially with three men watching and Ronan fucking timing it.

Cami starts sweet.

She always does that when she's about to become a menace.

Her lips brush mine slowly, then her tongue slips between them, and I make the incredibly intelligent choice to grab her face.

“Hands,” Ronan says.

I freeze.

Cami smiles against my mouth.

“My action,” she whispers.

Fucking hell.

I drop my hands.

She kisses me harder.

Ronan says, “Time.”

Cami pulls away.

I chase her mouth before I remember I'm not supposed to.

“Dex.”

“Sorry.”

I'm not.

Micah's turn.

He looks at me.

Oh no.

“I want his shirt off.”

My dick approves.

Ronan nods. “Sleight of Hand.”

Micah laughs. “Seriously?”