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"Brock." His name came out in a shocked whisper and must have been louder than I planned. He stopped lifting and sat up, glancing around until he found me.
"Macy," he said, a smile bright on his face. At least he didn't glare at me like Tate did. Though I also thought Tate might have a bad case of resting dick face.
I tried to back out of the room and escape but he was moving before I had the chance. He didn't stop until he had me trapped against the wall, one hand braced over me. He was covered in sweat and smelled like body wash. I didn't know I was into that before him but I was about to make a fool of myself.
"Go on a date with me," he said.
"No," I whispered. There were so many reasons why I should say no and for once, my brain was in self-preservation mode. Brock didn't want me, he couldn't.
His smile only grew wider and he leaned in close. My heart was slamming in my chest so intensely I was afraid he could hear it.
"You know I'm not giving up on this, right? I respect if you're not ready, but I think you want me as bad as I want you, princess," he said.
I did. But I wasn't about to admit that.
"No," I argued. "I don't."
"Liar," he said gleefully. He didn't even step back as the door opened, Tate calling out my name.
"There you are," he said, relief coloring his tone. The fact he just acted like this was completely normal behavior was a bit concerning.
"I got lost," I admitted. My voice sounded huskier than usual and I groaned internally.
"She turned me down," Brock informed him. Tate snorted, eyes locked on me.
His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and my eyes went right to it, making Brock laugh harder.
"Fine, go on a date withus," Brock amended.
"No, he doesn't want—"
My words were cut off as Tate now stepped closer, giving me no escape. I was surrounded by a wall of muscle.
"Don't tell me what I want," he said in a low voice that sent a shudder through me. It wasn't fear. When the hell did I turn into a sex fiend because all I could think about was them locking the door and taking me here and now?
"What do you want, Macy?"
You.
"Nothing," I breathed out, my tone sounded forced. It only made them laugh again, the sound full of confidence. They had no doubt they could have me.
"Macy, let me make something very clear to you," Brock said, his fingers trailing over my cheek. "We want you. Me, Tate, Elias. We'll make you happy. Usually, we aren't patient men, but for you, we will be. Tell me when you're done finding reasons not to give in."
With that he gave me one last heated look and walked away. My chest heaved as I tried to normalize my breathing, Tate stepped away for a moment to give me space.
"Ready?"
Not at all. They were going to kill me before this little game of theirs was over. I just wondered how long I could hold out.
Or if I even wanted to.
ChapterSeven
Macy
Something had changed between us all. Every time I passed the three hockey players that claimed me as theirs, my heartrate skyrocketed. They looked at me as if I were their prize. Yet they were waiting, just like Brock said.
Today it was worse than ever. Every time they looked at me it was as if they had a secret I wasn't privy to and they were bursting at the seams to tell me.
