Behind me, hands come around my waist, strong and hot as a glowing red smile appears above my right shoulder.
"Move for us, Ro," Seven shouts to be heard over the music, starting to move himself.
I smile in the dark as the chorus hits, swaying my hips between my masked villains.
Elijah's fingers bite into my hips insistently as he sways with me. Seven crowds me from the front, moving like he was made to dance. Every movement sings with dark temptation and lurid desire as he lets the music move him, becoming its vessel, putting on a show that is all for me.
When his hands race down my arms, and his hips connect with mine, I'm hot all over. Elijah grinds himself into me from behind while Seven worships my every curve, tracing scorching lines down the side of my neck, over my collar, and the tops of my breasts.
Then they shift apart from me, staying close enough to caress, but not to crowd, as a third villain appears on the makeshift dance floor.
The bones of his skull mask glow in the black light, making his eyes appear dark and hollow when I know they are anything but.
Atticus stands amid moving bodies, watching, waiting for permission, heedless of the women flocking to him, trying to get his attention and failing.
When one doesn't take the hint and turns in front of him sensually, trying to grind her ass into him, it's like I can see the challenge in his expression.
The girl in the slutty bunny costume bends forward, looking back at Atticus through hazy eyes as she pushes against the front of his tactical pants. But the instant she connects with him, my skin flushes, and I'm moving, rage hot in my chest as I claw through a couple to get to them.
But Atticus is faster, shifting his crotch out of bunny bitch's reach and grabbing her arms to firmly guide her away from him and out of my warpath, into the arms of one of her matching bunny friends.
When I'm satisfied she isn't coming back, I turn to pivot on my heel, to go back to Elijah and Seven, but a strong grip closes around my wrist, pulling me back into a solid chest. Atticus's hand comes up to caress my throat, and I notice how the knuckles of his gloves are torn, the skin beneath bruised and bloody.
What the hell did they do?
He drops his mouth to my ear. "You're not jealous of that little rabbit, are you, Trouble?"
My heart thuds hard in my chest as his scent and the feel of him against me floods my senses. Every inch is proof of all those hours he's spent in the gym. He's even bigger now than he was on that midnight highway. Stronger.
And even though there's this tiny voice nipping at the back of my mind that tells me that should scare me, right now, it doesn't.
Even with blood on his hands…
Even not knowing whose it is or how it got there…
He feels safe.
When Atticus moves, shifting his hips to the beat of the next song, I move with him, relaxing against his chest, letting him carry my weight as we dance.
Across from us, Elijah and Seven dance together without me, andfuckif that isn't the best thing I've seen in weeks. It's playful and carefree, the way they spin around one another, heads tipped up toward the ceiling, vibing with the music.
Until Elijah sees me in Atticus's arms, and he elbows Seven to get his attention. Then they're both watching us. I wonder what they're thinking when Atticus uses his grip on my collar to urge me to settle my head back against his shoulder. Or when he flattens his wide palm against my chest and starts to slide it down between my breasts, down my stomach, lower…lower…
My breath hitches, and heat rushes to my face.
I snatch his hand, stopping him, and he freezes at the shift in my demeanor. The clear demonstration of who is in control makes me reconsider.
I did say I would try.
When I place Atticus's hand back onto my body, allowing him to resume his exploration, Seven and Elijah share a look beneath their masks.
Elijah nods first, then Seven.
And I don't know what they agreed on, but I know the conversation didn't require a single word as they slither through the crowd of gyrating bodies, creating a triangle of muscle around me. Atticus's hand on my middle slips onto my hip and spins me out from his body—and right into Elijah.
I wrap my arms around his neck as he rests the forehead of his mask against mine, grinding his growing erection into my belly. He takes his time memorizing the planes of my body withhis hands as we dance, then with some reluctance, his hand takes mine and spins me—into Seven's arms.
The music shifts from alternative songs featuring strong guitar and deep bass with electronic elements to a high-energy Latin dance-pop song with Spanish lyrics. Seven's hands shift from hot and gripping to a structured hold where he catches my right hand in his left and his other finds my waist.
