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“No way.” I shake my head, short hair tickling my bare shoulders. “The last time I drank, things didn’t end so well.”
Tatum grins. “It’s just good ole fashioned booze. None of Vance’s turbo charge.”
I can’t help but laugh, and Sebastian joins in, his knee bumping against mine. “She calls it voodoo sex potion,” he says, those teasing blue eyes sending a wave of heat down my chest.
“There’s no voodoo sex potion in these little shots of fun, I promise you.”
Sebastian reaches out and pushes the shot glass between my empty hands. “Let’s see what kind of sanctioned trouble we can get into tonight.”
Buckling under his encouragement, I down the liquid and cough as the alcohol hits the back of my throat. Sebastian rubs my back to soothe me.
“Ready for another?” Tatum asks, his own glass empty.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
Tatum smirks. “That’s why we’re here.”
He waves down the waitress, and I shoot him a scowl before turning my attention back to Sebastian.
God, he’s sexy.
His navy button-down shirt brings out the brightness in his stare, and I fight the sudden urge to crawl onto his lap and forget the world exists.
“That look on your face, princess...” He shakes his head. “It’s fucking dangerous.”
“No more dangerous than the way you make me feel.”
He leans down and nuzzles the crook of my shoulder, and my head whirls. “And how’s that?”
“Sebastian,” I moan, the alcohol already blazing through my system, loosening me up, paving the way for poor decisions and unforgettable nights. The next thing I know, he’s devouring my mouth, and I’m lost. The music seems louder in my eardrums, the beat more insistent. Strobing neon lights flash behind my shuttered lids as his kiss sends me into a trance-like state.
I’m not sure how long we feed off of each other, but by the time we pull apart, more shots have arrived, and we down those, too. As the night wears on, the space between us narrows, and I find myself sandwiched between Tatum and Sebastian, thigh-to-thigh.
It’s hot and heady in this place, and I’m so buzzed that I’m not sure whose hand is sliding up my thigh underneath the table. I only know I’m dizzy and overheated, consumed by need. Letting out a quiet moan, I rest my head on Sebastian’s shoulder as those warm fingers caress me through my panties.
Tatum leans close, fracturing the moment. “Come dance with me.”
“What?” It takes a second for my inebriated brain to catch up, but he’s already grabbing my arm and dragging me onto the dance floor by the time I consider protesting.
Tatum pulls me against him. “Sebastian’s a lucky bastard,” he says, his whiskey breath heating my neck. “What I’d give to have someone look at me the way you look at him.” He wedges a thigh between my legs, and we grind on each other in something resembling dancing. “Do you have any idea what you do to a man?”
“N-no,” I stutter.
His lips brush my ear. “He’s murdering me with his stare right now. Fuck, he’s jealous.”
I glance toward Sebastian. Sure enough, a dark storm brews in those ocean eyes.
“What do you think?” Tatum asks. “Should I give him a reason to glare at me like that?”
“No.”
Because the lion doesn’t need a reason to wield his possessive power—it’s as much a part of him as submitting seems to be in my genetic makeup.
Maybe that’s why I don’t stop Tatum from sliding a palm down my back. His fingers trail over flushed skin, and then he’s gripping my ass in both hands.
His cock hardens between us.
Our bodies move as one.
