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“Are you asking us to lie to the brothers?” Buck asked.
“Yes.”
Buck and Puck shared a silent glance before Buck grinned.
“We have no problem with that.” His expression then turned grim. “But if we do, I better not hear you let it slip to anyone in the club it’s a lie.”
“I won’t,” she promised easily.
Keeping that promise will be a cake walk, she thought happily.
Puck was just as intent on making sure of the repercussions she would face if she didn’t live up to her end of the bargain. “You rat us out—”
“I know you’ll take your vote back,” she finished, nodding understandingly.
“No.” The normally goofy Puck she was used to disappeared, his visage changing into one that was almost unrecognizable. Sheer ruthlessness shone out of his eyes to the extent she shivered in the warm room. “There’s no getting a vote back once it has been given,” Puck told her. “Are you willing to make the lie a reality if you tell? We’re ready to keep the lie if that’s what you really want, but we won’t have our faces rubbed into it that we lied to the brothers if you suddenly come clean. So, make sure you want to play it this way.”
Her mind played back how callously Doom had told her none of The Last Riders wanted her, like a vicious recording.
“I won’t. I swear.”
Puck grinned and again became the man she was more comfortable with.
Arden caught sight of the speculative gaze Buck was giving her. “What?”
He leaned back on his pillow with the air of a big cat who just ate a deer for dinner. “Nothing.”
Arden narrowed her eyes on him. She didn’t trust the look he was giving her.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Was he going to back out?
“Nothing… Other than I’ve never known any woman able to keep a secret.”
“Well, you do now.” She raised her nose up haughtily.
“All right. Then—” Buck’s gaze switched to Puck, “we need to make this believable.”
Arden jumped when Buck unmuted the television and the sound blared out in the small room. Turning her head to the television, she saw he had switched the channel from wrestling to porn, and a woman was screaming as a man was driving his cock inside of her.
Having always assumed Victorian women had pretended to faint during embarrassing moments, Arden learned from firsthand experience the fainting might not have been as feigned as she supposed.
When Puck sat down on the foot of the bed and started jumping up and down while Buck raised his hand to shake the headboard, she wished she had smelling salts.
Arden raised a hand to cover her face when Buck raised the volume even more. Obviously, they took her for a screamer.
After ten minutes, she tried to take the remote control away from Buck. “Give me that.”
He moved it to his other hand, out of her reach, unless she wanted to climb on the bed to take it away from him. Not about to get in a wrestling match with him, she shot him a killing glare.
“We want this to be believable,” she hissed.
“We are.” Buck grinned unrepentantly. “Give it another twenty minutes.”
Arden rolled her eyes at him. “Egotistical much?”
Puck reached forward to pull her toward him. “We’re more than willing to demonstrate our stamina.”
Slapping his hand away, she tried to move out of his reach. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Before she could stop him, Puck pulled her shirt off.
“Wait… This is just pretend.”
He turned her shirt inside out and gave it back. “Have to make it believable.”
She put the shirt back on and felt them taking in her appearance. “What now?”
“Bite your lips.”
Feeling like an idiot, she bit her lips until she felt blood rushing into them.
“Better.” Buck nodded approvingly. “Mess up your hair. The women know I like to grab their hair when I fuck them.”
She could have spent the rest of her life unaware of that fact.
Arden ran her fingers through her short hair, thinking she was doing a good enough job until Puck got up and tousled it even more.
“There, that should be good.”
“Just one thing,” Buck said, giving a loud moan, which set off Puck making the same sound.
When it dawned on her what they were doing, she lightly slapped her cheek since she didn’t have high hopes Buck had smelling salts in his room.
“Now you got the idea,” Buck encouraged her.
When the brothers finally stopped groaning and jumping on the bed, she grabbed for the doorknob before they told her they needed to give a repeat performance.
Biting her lip, she paused and turned back to them. “Uh… Do you guys mind doing me a teeny favor?”
At her question, the brothers, who were staring down at the Super Bowl tickets Puck had pulled out again, glanced toward her cautiously.
“If any of the brothers…” Arden embarrassedly cleared her throat. “I don’t think they will, but if they do—especially Doom. If any of them ask if I was any good, will you tell them I was?”
