“I’m dangerously sober,” he says. “It makes me worse.”
I look up at him through my lashes. Something reckless awakens inside me. The sadness from yesterday is still there, the shock and confusion too, but under all of it is this bright, defiant thread that wants to feel something good while everything else is a mess.
“Then do something foolish,” I say.
His eyes darken.
For a second he hesitates, like he’s waiting to make sure I mean it. I let my hand slide up his chest, fingers curling in the thick of his chest hair, and that’s all it takes.
He closes the distance and kisses me.
It’s not gentle, not at first. His mouth claims mine, his hand slides up to cradle the back of my head. My lips part on a gasp, and he takes advantage, tongue sweeping in like he’s been thinking about this all night, which honestly he probably hasbecause same. I kiss him back, clutching him, letting myself lean into his control. It feels so easy to give to him.
Behind me, Silas’ breath gets rougher against my neck. His fingers flex against my stomach. I can feel him, hard and solid against the curve of my ass, and the knowledge sends a pulse of heat through me so strong I almost break the kiss with Gideon.
Almost.
When I finally do pull back for air, a soft, helpless sound escapes my throat.
“Good morning, Angel,” Silas murmurs against my hair.
I huff. “You didn’t get a turn yet.”
“True,” he says.
Gideon smirks. “I can share.”
“Of course you can,” I murmur, feeling bold and irritable and turned on all at once. I shift again, rolling my hips just a little, and both of them react enough that I feel it.
Two sharp inhales, one at my neck, one against my mouth.
“Penelope,” Gideon warns.
“Yes?” I ask, trying not to sound smug.
“Stop wiggling,” Silas says behind me.
I absolutely do not stop.
This time when I move, I do it slowly and deliberately. Pelvis rocking back against Silas, forward against Gideon’s thigh. My breath catches because I’m not made of stone and also because this is insane. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should be freaking out about step titles and bloodlines and all the ways this could go to hell.
Instead, I’m sandwiched between two men I very much want, and my body is voting strongly in favor of bad decisions.
“Penelope,” Gideon repeats. His hand closes around my hip, trying to still me. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I’m thinking very clearly,” I counter. “I’m thinking about kissing you again.”
“You can kiss me,” he says. “Just stop grinding like that.”
I smile sweetly, lean in, and kiss him while I rock my hips again.
He groans into my mouth.
Silas swears quietly against my neck, his restraint starting to fray. His hand slides from my stomach to my waist, thumb pressing into the dip there. His teeth graze my shoulder, and I shiver.
“Angel,” he says softly, warning wrapped in affection. “We don’t have to do this now.”
“I know,” I say against Gideon’s lips. “I want to.”
