Page 81 of End Game

Her head tips back against my shoulder.

Ronan’s gaze sharpens as his nostrils flare.

I smile. “See?”

“Cocky asshole,” Cami mutters.

Pressing a kiss to her temple, I ask, “Am I wrong?”

“No.”

Ronan laughs, and her attention starts to drift to him, but both my hands—on her waist and throat—tighten.

“Eyes on me.” The words come out before I think about them.

Cami meets my eyes and freezes.

Ronan freezes too.

For one strange second, I’m probably the most surprised person in the room.

Then, my grip loosens as Cami turns to face me fully.

Her smile is gone, but it’s not because anything is wrong.

Something hot and startling settles low in my belly.

I’m not sure I’ve ever watched Cami respond to my voice like that.

Ronan’s eyes meet mine.

His eyebrows lift, and he gives me the smallest fucking smile.

Both of my hands slide and settle at Cami’s waist as I draw my attention fully back to her.

“Still green?”

“So fucking green.”

“Good,” I respond, and then my mouth is on hers.

I don’t give her the slow, familiar version of me this time. Breaking the kiss, I crowd her backward—toward Ronan.

When her back hits his chest, Cami makes a startled sound as his hands graze up her arms to steady her. Ronan’s expression flashes with the same heat I’m feeling.

For one suspended second, she’s caught between us, my hands firm at her waist, and Ronan’s hands bracketing her arms.

Then her back settles against his chest.

The expressions on their faces said neither of them expected me to do that.

I grin, looking between them. “What?”

Ronan’s hands remain carefully in place. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

His smile widens. “You appear to be enjoying yourself, that’s all.”