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I kick at him, surprised at whatever the hell he’s doing, but with how he’s sitting, I can’t even do that much. Hell, I barely feel balanced with the way I’m perched between them, most of my weight on Rory’s chest as he holds me against him.
“What are you doing, Phoenix?” I demand, hating the small waver in my voice that belies the fear I feel.
“Making sure Rory doesn’t hurt you, obviously,” he scoffs. “Making you play your part, if we’re being technical.” I have no idea what he means for all of two seconds, until he releases my hands to grip my waist, gloves sliding against the skin that’s been exposed from how Rory holds the fabric of my hoodie in his grip.
“Why?” I demand, feeling more than seeing him as he leans in. My brain is frantic and scattered—I wonder if I’m dead or dying and this is the fancy fever dream my mind has created to keep me from realizing it.
But if this is a dream, then why are they sowarm? Why can I feel the pressure of his knee that rubs at the apex of my thighs, and the discomfort of my protesting ribs when Rory pulls me more tightly against him?
“For fun?” It’s Rory who answers first, predictably, as he jerks my hoodie and shirt upward with one hand, his other disappearing. Though from Phoenix’s soft exhale of surprise, I have a pretty good idea of where it’s gone. “For legal reasons? If you’re our accomplice, you can’t tell. And I’m pretty sure giving us a name would put youfirmlyin the accomplice category.”
“I’m not giving you a name,” I remind him, in case he’s forgotten since the last time I said it ten seconds ago.
“Well then, I don’t think I’ll stop,” he murmurs against the shell of my ear. “And I’m pretty sure if we fuck you out here in the woods, you’re still an accomplice. So I get my way no matter what.”
"I’mdefinitelynot letting you fuck me,” I say, not feeling as strongly about that statement as I should.
“You’re not? Really? Not even if I ask nicely? Not even if I make you come on my fingers, or hold you while Phoenix fucks you with his tongue? He’s so good with his mouth, and he’s wanted to taste you so badly since that night in the bathroom.” I hate how his words make me feel. I hate the way my stomach coils, and how part of me seeks out his warmth every time he touches me. Then when he pulls away, I shiver and sorely miss the heat of his skin, but he shushes me like I’ve made a physical sound and leans back in, cheek brushing mine. “Don’t worry, Bailey. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll share my warmth with you for as long as it takes.”
“You’re lying,” I find myself saying, my voice unsure and shaking.
“About what, sweet girl?”
“About him. AboutPhoenix.” I feel the black-haired man stiffen between my thighs, taken aback by my words.
“What about me?” he asks, cutting Rory off before he can answer.
“You’ve never been interested in me,” I shoot back. “I had a crush on you foryearswhen we were kids.” There’s no use denying it now. And it’s better ammunition for me to throw back at him. “And you never said aword.”
“That’s because I would’ve hurt you. And I was toooldfor you,” he protests. “You were sixteen when I left. What was I supposed to do? Kidnap you?”
“You could’ve, I don’t know, given me some kind of indication you didn’t hate me for what happened toDaisy,” I snap, and immediately, instantly wish I hadn’t.
His hands tense on my skin for a few seconds, though I can feel him stroking his thumbs over my hips. He’s so quiet I can hear all three of us breathing, and even Rory seems to be waiting for him to say…something.
But it’s me who breaks first. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”
“If we took things any further at that party, I thought we’d break you,” he interrupts, his voice completely cool and unaffected. “I thought if you knew it was me, you’d stop me. That you’d taste what we wanted, and you’drun. I didn’t think you’d beg us for more. We’re not people you beg for more, Bailey.” God, I wish I could see him in the dark, but it’s just too pitch-black to see more than outlines and some movements. He shifts, and I can feel his warmth crowding closer, until he’s almost as close as Rory is, if that’s even possible.
“You want to go home?” he purrs in my ear, opposite the one Rory’s teeth have found. “You want us to let you go that badly?”
I nod my head, knowing both of them can feel it.
“Then tell me to go back to that farm and slit Ava’s throat.”
“No,” I reply, before I can even think things through. “No,Phoenix.”
“Fine.” He strangely doesn’t sound very put out by it. “Don’t.” I feel him moving and I start to say something, but when his lips find mine, I forget very quickly what that was.
Phoenix kisses like it’s a competitive sport. That’s the first thought that crosses my mind as he urges my lips to part like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He uses Rory to his advantage, hand cupping my face as he leans over me, pushing more of me against his boyfriend’s chest so I’m not holding myself up at all. For his part, Rory’s arms encircle me more firmly, and at some point, I’ve closed my eyes as Phoenix devours my mouth like he’s always known exactly what I enjoy.
His hand on my face moves, urging me to follow until my head is tiltedjustenough…and I’m definitely not expecting Rory’s mouth on my neck, on the same side he’d marked my skin already, lips and tongue tasting every inch.
Fuck.I’ve got to get them to stop. Guilt, and something else, keep the name in my head sealed behind my lips, locked in silence.
“I wonder how hard I have to kiss you,” he purrs, pulling back just slightly.
“W-what?” I gasp, not thinking straight, if at all.
