He says it so casually, like it’s not the most mind-boggling sentence that could have possibly come out of his mouth. I stare at him. “Youwhat?”
He shrugs. “It’s a long story.”
“You have foursomes. With women. Regularly.”
“I don’t know aboutregularly—”
I twist back to look at Glen. His cheeks are flushed as he stares at me. “When do you get off-duty?”
Glen checks his watch. “Twenty minutes.”
“Do you want to join in?”
His lips part. “Yes.”
Holy crap. I’m about to have a threesome. My day is really turning around.
“Great,” I grab Kenta’s collar, pulling him upright. “I’ll just keep him on edge until you’re ready.” Kenta groans, a low, deep sound in his chest, as I pretty much drag him into my bedroom. Kicking aside my suitcase, I lead him to the bed, put my hands on his shoulders, and push him down onto the mattress. He looks up at me, his eyes dark.
Glen steps forward to close the door. “Can I give you a tip?” He calls from the doorway.
I straddle Kenta’s waist, plucking at the buttons on my shirt. “I know what hole it goes in, thanks.”
Glen chuckles. “Leave the shoes on. They drive him crazy.”
I turn to look down at Kenta, who’s watching me intently.
“Do they, now?” I practically purr. He strokes a hand down my leg, not breaking my gaze.
“You’re incredible,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “You always look incredible.”
His eyes are almost painfully sincere, and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. Shaking myself, I reach up to pull my hair loose from its ponytail.
Kenta goes to shuck off his shirt, but I grab his hands, stopping him. “No,” I order. “I’m undressing you.”
He goes still, letting me unbutton his crisp white shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. I run my eyes over his thickly muscled chest. He’s a little leaner than Glen, but just as toned, and his skin is tanned golden. I run my fingertips over his abs, watching the muscles clench under my touch, then tug at his shoulder. I want a closer look at his backpiece. “Turn around.”
He hesitates, a brief wince crossing his face.
I pause. “Kenta?”
He twists, putting his back towards me. My mouth falls open.
Yes, his tattoo is gorgeous. It’s an intricately drawn phoenix rising from a plume of smoke. The linework is incredible. I can see every individual feather on the bird’s wings.
But that’s not what grabs my attention. I lean forward to get a closer look. Underneath the heavy ink, his back is covered with vicious-looking scars, criss-crossing over his skin. Some of them are thick and raised, and others are knife-thin. There’s barely a millimetre of his skin left unscathed.
For a second, I’m frozen, anger rising in my stomach. Whoever hurt Glen got to Kenta, too. They cut him up. Theyshreddedhis back. Fuming, I lean down and kiss the bloom of fire burning from the phoenix’s mouth. Kenta relaxes under me. “Anything I shouldn’t do?” I say lightly.
I can practically hear his smile. “I’m fine, Briar. Really.”
“Good.” I drop my hands to his belt and tug. “Then take off your pants.”
He laughs, sliding off the bed and kicking off his trousers. My mouth practically waters as I ogle his muscled thighs and tight black underwear. He goes to move back to the bed, but I splay a hand across his abs, pushing him up against the wall.
“Stand there,” I command, my voice suddenly hoarse. “Take off your underwear.”
Silently, he kicks off his boxers, tossing them onto the ground. He’s big. Not as big as Glen, probably, but still so large that nerves pinch my stomach.
