I slip into the booth first and pull her in after me, keeping her wedged against my body so Rowan can take her other side when I give him the signal.
One thing we learned a long time ago is that Hannah is like a frightened deer. If we give her space to run, she’s going to take it, and I’m not willing to risk it. Neither of us is.
I reach for the chilled champagne in the middle of the table and pour three glasses, each of which Hannah watches closely. When I place the third onto the table on the other side of her, she swallows heavily and reaches for her own, downing the contents in a few quick gulps.
I chuckle and drop one of my hands to her bare thigh as I take a drink from my own glass. “You’re trembling, Little Doe.”
“I’m nervous,” she admits without hesitation. That’s one of the things I admire about Hannah. She doesn’t hide her worriesor concerns, which makes being her Dom that much easier. I never have to worry about her not saying her safe word if she’s afraid, and that gives me a hell of a lot of comfort going into tonight.
Rowan and I are not good men.
Far from it.
Our hands are dirtier than most in this city.
But we won’t allow it to touch our girl.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
CHAPTER THREE
HANNAH
Ireach for the bottle of champagne and refill my empty glass. I’ve never been one to reach for alcohol to ease my anxiety, but right now feels like an okay time to make an exception.
It’s not every day you agree to let your boyfriend share you with his friend that you’ve never met.
What the fuck was I thinking?
I’m not a stranger to the idea of sharing. Hell, I see it most times I visit the club, and the owners, Elias and Wyatt, share their now-wife, Leighton. I just never thought I would find myself in that kind of situation. Trusting has never come easy for me, and the idea of putting my trust in the hands of more than one person makes my palms sweat.
Asher presses a gentle kiss to my cheek, the move so at odds with the persona he shows the rest of the world. That’s probably the thing that has surprised me the most in the months we’ve spent together—how soft he can be despite his reputation. “There’s no need to be nervous, babe. You know I’d never let anything happen to you that you didn’t want or wouldn’t enjoy.”
I nod because I do know that. He’s given me no reason not to trust him, and I’m certain he wouldn’t let his friend touch me if he didn’t think they would respect me the same way he does.
“Tell me what makes you nervous,” he murmurs, his hand traveling up my thigh toward my aching heat. There’s something about the anxiety that’s making me needy for his touch, and as if he can tell I need him, he slips his fingers beneath the hem, trailing them higher until he meets my bare pussy.
He groans, and the sound sends shivers down my spine. “What have I told you about leaving your pussy bare?”
I open my mouth to respond, but he shakes his head, a dark curl falling across his forehead with the movement and cutting me off before I can get a word out.
“I think my girl needs to be punished. What do you think?”
A soft moan escapes my throat at his words because his punishments have quickly become part of my addiction to the man himself.
He chuckles and runs his fingers through my aching heat, spreading my wetness across my folds. “Always so wet for me.”
I nod and lean my head against his shoulder. I drag my bottom lip between my teeth to trap my moans from escaping and allow his touch to drive me wild.
Every pass over my clit has me tensing against him, but he doesn’t linger for more than a second before he continues teasing me.
I’m so distracted by his touch that I don’t notice another body until it slips into the booth on the other side of me.
I look up and meet an icy gaze that takes my breath away. The rest of his face is covered by an intricate black mask, and a few curls peek out over the top of it.
“Hello, Hannah,” he croons, his voice thick and masculine. Without seeing his face, I can’t place how old he is, but if I had to guess from his voice alone, I’d guess he’s in his mid-forties, almost twice my age.
