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Bryce lifted the hem even higher — dangerously high. My pulse picked up a little as my mouth dropped open.
“This is a miniskirt,” he growled throatily. Very gently, his fingers brushed the new patch of exposed skin. “But this…” he said, lowering the hem back again, “is just plain rock star sexy.”
We were dancing. Grinding. Moving slowly, with one of my legs caught between his. Our faces had grown closer too, along with our bodies. Bryce’s breath was warm against the bare expanse of my neck. His eyes, soft but unyielding.
“You’re good at this,” I said, eying him over. He looked utterly delicious. “Maybe too good.”
He crushed me against his chest, the red-velvet fabric contrasting with the silky material of his navy blue shirt. He tilted my chin upwards, until our lips were practically touching. I was dying to kiss him. Dying to fall into him, and just let him take me.
“You make it easy.”
His nostrils flared, inhaling me, drinking me in. Then I was spinning away, my hand passed to another hand. My body pressed tightly against another body, this one taller, maybe broader, but no less strong and unyielding.
“What did he say?” Camden chuckled, his eyes going to Bryce.
“He said you can’t dance,” I teased, starting trouble. “That you had zero rhythm.”
“Oh yeah?”
His blue eyes flashed as he pulled me away, spinning me to a different section of the dance floor. He moved effortlessly, gliding along. Pulling me through the crowd, until we were even closer to the thumping, pumping music.
Wow.
For a long time we danced, with Camden alternately spinning me off and pulling me close. He slid tightly against me, then pushed away. Put his face against mine, his five o’clock shadow tickling and teasing me, before pulling back again to look me over, head to toe.
Then Bryce showed up… and my body became theirs.
It was just like having sex with them; being traded off as a partner but in public this time, before an entire crowd. Even so it was no less intimate. Back and forth I went, touching them, feeling them, grinding against their hard, beautiful bodies. Dancing with first one and then the other, when I wasn’t sandwiched deliciously between both at the same time.
I was growing hot in my dress. I’d been more prepared to be wined and dined than spun around a busy dance floor, my shoes — kicked off to the side before we’d even started — more suited for strutting than whirling around. Still, none of it stopped me. The heat, the sweat, the pulse-pounding music thumping its way through my body… I was in for all of it, and I was loving every second.
It’s been a long time since you did something like this.
A body spooned me from behind, and I turned to face Bryce with a welcoming smile. This time I slid my arms over his shoulders, still moving my hips in rhythm to his.
“Kiss me.”
My words were drowned out by the music, but he understood them nonetheless. He moved closer, drawing his face near mine. I was dying to taste him. To feel his hot mouth, crushed against my lips…
But at the very last second he turned his cheek.
Damn!
I was shocked, astonished, playfully angry. But before I could do anything else, another pair of arms went around me from behind.
“We have to talk first…” Roderick’s voice growled directly into my ear. His hands were clasped tightly against my bar
e midsection, right where the fabric of my dress criss-crossed and left a smooth expanse of heated flesh.
I whirled, spinning into him. Roderick’s crisp white shirt had three buttons undone, which seemed totally uncharacteristic of him. I realized he’d been watching us from the bar, the whole time.
Standing there, surrounded by all three of them now, a new rush of heat swept through me.
“And when are we talking?”
His mouth was full beneath his beard, his lips wet as our faces drew nearer. His breath smelled sweet, like whiskey.
“Now.”
