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And Number Three. Noah Evans. Rugged physique, with the most soulful gray eyes. The man who felt most like a friend I wanted to keep. A cherished secret. He was the artist I’d imagined because I knew those long fingers were destined for more than prescribing pills.
At long last, I had names for the faces. And they were all familiar.
Be fucking still, my beating heart.
There was no way I could back out of this.
The three men in front of me looked into my eyes like I was a quizmaster on the verge of declaring a life-changing result.
Kinda cute, really. I couldn’t help the corners of my lips from turning up.
“Hah,” Noah replied immediately, exhaling with how victorious he felt. From the way his chest rose and fell, he’d put a lot on this. On my saying yes.
It touched me in unexpected ways.
“I have a condition.”
“Anything, Rory.” Elijah reached out and took my hand in his. “We won’t move forward unless you are comfortable.”
My grin transformed into the lopsided smirk of a Cheshire Cat. “Good. Because I want tolearn.And you guysaremy professors. From what I remember, both in and out of the classroom, right, Mr. Darcy?”
Elijah’s cheeks flushed, but he returned my grin.
I led the men onto the dance floor because tonight, even with my usual clumsiness, I felt liberated. Plus, music did this thing to me—it made me want to lose myself and just go with the flow.
As the first beats matched the rhythm of my movements, Benjamin drew me into his arms while the others flanked me. We didn’t care that there were people all around us.
The moment demanded closeness. It was like a prelude of everything that would happen later on.
I moved my hips like the ebb and flow of waves at high tide, giving in to the gentle, balmy heat radiating through the bar. People all around us were dancing too, their expressions glazed as they let their inhibitions go.
It was beautiful. Afterward, we returned to the bar, only one idea in all of our minds.
“Do you want to stay and have some drinks?” Noah asked, fiddling with his empty glass.
“I’d like to hear the alternative,” I teased.
“My pottery studio is just around the bend. We could go there. All of us.”
I was learning new things about them everyday. It was like getting a pie and finding out it had layer after layer of different flavors that just exploded into an orgasm in your mouth.
“The pottery studio sounds pretty great,” I murmured, blushing.
Nothing more needed to be said. The four of us headed out of the bar, and we walked past crowds of people, some of them treating the street like it was their bedroom.
In all fairness, though, they probably didn’t have much privacy at home. I almost giggled at one girl who was neck-deep in a smooch with her guy. She made these dramatic little sounds, exaggerating every moan that left her mouth.
Someone get this girl an Oscar.
Noah’s studio was a dimly-lit marvel. I hadn’t laid my eyes on something so artistically subdued and free at the same time, but then again, I didn’t get to see much. It was dark, and the second the door closed, the mood in the room changed.
He was the one who moved toward me first. The one who pulled me into his arms and met my lips with a lingering kiss. I relaxed into it, feeling his mouth and tongue explore mine as he drew me closer.
The air around us was heady. Sweet.
And I knew I needed to let my secret out.
18
