“Cocky, conceited, vain definitely.” I match his smirk.
“I like to think of it as confident.”
“Oh, you’re that, in spades.”
“Why is it every other girl around me falls at my feet begging for any scrap of attention I’m willing to give them, but you act as though I’m the shit you scraped off the bottom of your shoes?” There is a raw hurt in his words that tells me I’ve wounded him. I’m sure his pride more than anything.
My shoulder rises as a smirk crosses my lips, pleased with myself for not fawning over him like I so desperately wanted to from the first moment I met him. “Guess maybe you’re not as good as you think you are.” I have to stifle the laugh that’s threatening to escape because he seems genuinely perplexed that I’m uninterested in his obvious advances. Maybe I’m a better actress than I thought. I can’t help but run my eyes over the arm holding me in place, taking in the way his T-shirt stretches tightly over his biceps, the face of a pretty vintage pin-up girl peeking out. She’s surrounded by playing cards, the jack of hearts the most prominent—fitting for a player and heartbreaker like him. There is also a pair of dice, one with a three, the other with a four. Lucky seven. I feel like I have him worked out, but just like his Instagram page, maybe this is the side he wants the world to see, the playboy, and underneath it all there is more to him. Why do I so desperately hope that’s true?
His hand dusts over my hip, his fingertips gently grazing over the fabric of my skirt as our eyes lock again. I think behind the cheeky dimples, behind the mischievous sparkle in his eyes, is a man who wants more.
I suck in a shaky breath, not able to help my reaction to him with his hand on me, brushing so lightly as it trails down my thigh, slipping just under the hem of my skirt. Color fills my cheeks, and I suddenly feel out of control.
He pulls me into him. Close enough, I can feel his hard cock straining against his jeans, and I know that was his desired effect in caging me against his body. Nope, there isn’t more to him. He wants to screw me; he’s probably only still interested because I haven’t given in to him yet and the chase has him all hot and bothered. “You know what’s cute?” he asks, his voice low and sexy as hell.
I swallow hard as I purse my lips, trying to act uninterested, even though my heart has kicked up a beat and my panties are now drenched.
“You, when you lie.” His face lowers so he’s nearly touching me.
I press my body into his, my breasts brushing over his chest, my tight nipples begging to be touched. This man is irresistible, and he knows it.
His hand drifts around so he’s grabbing my ass, his skin on mine in a way that has me sucking in a shaky breath, his lips brushing my ear lobe ever so lightly. “You’ll be screaming my name by the end of tonight, little princess.”
I gasp out loud, unable to help it. All words are gone, all I can do is concentrate on how close his body is to mine and how much that feeling lights me up. My breath hitches, and I know I’m panting, practically begging him to take me right here and now in the kitchen with both his brothers in earshot.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
My palms go all sweaty, and I grip hold of the kitchen counter. “Ash, we can’t.”
He releases me, a stupid grin on his face as his lust-filled eyes lock with mine. “See, confident. We can’t, but we will. You will see, princess, I will have you begging for it.”
I blink back at him, knowing it’s the truth. My only reason for pushing him away is that Sloane told him to stay away from me or hewould lose his job with her, and he likes that job. But he’s also a big boy, and if he wants to push this, to explore the chemistry bubbling between us, then who am I to stand in his way? “The ice cream is melting,” I say, trying to break his crazy concentration on me. I’m so damn hot I feel like I’m about to combust right here and now, just from a look.
He turns back and collects the scoop, filling the bowls with ice cream before pouring whiskey over every one of them. He hands me a bowl. “Try it just once for me.” He winks, and I feel it all the way down to my lady parts. And I’m sure it’s not the ice cream and whiskey combo he’s talking about, it’s him. I quickly grab another bowl and move out of the kitchen, needing to get away from him as fast as possible.
But the sexual tension in the living room isn’t much better. Cruz is already sitting on one side of the sofa with a blanket over his lap, and Jagger relaxes back on his other side on the recliner, a look on his face that tells me what we started in my room earlier was just the tip of the iceberg. Cruz’s lips twist up at the sides when he sees me looking over my seating options. I should never have agreed to this movie night. It’s a bad idea. The look in Cruz’s eyes tells me that sitting with him will only end one way—with his cock buried deep inside me again. So, I decide to hand him his bowl and take the floor. A safe distance. It’s the only smart option.
“You’re not sitting on the floor. Get up here.” Cruz takes my hand, trying to pull me up with him.
I give him a cold look, warning him not to push me. “Think I’m safer on the floor,” I mutter over my shoulder.
“You’re not.” His sinister smile makes goosebumps rise over my arms, and I know he’s thinking all sorts of inappropriate things I coulddo down here from this position. Take his pierced cock in my mouth, for one. He wraps his fingers delicately around my wrist.
Before I know it, my dessert is ripped from my hands, and I’m being lifted and deposited on the soft plush sofa. Jagger stifles a laugh from his place on the recliner, which earns him a death glare from me. Cruz and Asher work together to get what they want, me trapped in between them with no way out. Cruz smooths out the blanket over our laps while Ash hands back my bowl. The tension has hit a new all-time high. I’m not going to survive the night.
I huff out a protest as I scoop up my first mouthful, knowing I can’t fight them on this. What’s the point? My eyes widen as the smooth, creamy combination hits my taste buds. I’m not telling Ash this, but oh my God, this is delicious.
Cruz flicks on the movie I selected, and I can’t help the little grin of satisfaction that curls on my lips as the music plays. A small sliver of payback. I know for a fact that all three of them are going to hate this movie. But it’s one of my favorites, a classic in my eyes. Flashdance.
“Is this really what you picked?” Cruz grumbles as he watches the opening scene, as young dancer, Alex, rides through town on her bike with “What a Feeling” by Irene Cara playing. The look of disgust on his face is comical.
“Sure is.” I grin around my spoon, the music lighting me up. I have a personal relationship with this movie. The hard times it got me through are more than I can list on one hand.
I feel Ash chuckle beside me, enjoying Cruz’s pain, and I decide maybe tonight isn’t going to be all that bad after all.
“Least she’s hot. You reckon we should test out that bucket of water trick tomorrow, little princess? I could see you up on stage, all dripping wet.”
I shrug. “If you want.”
