Page 83

“You promised,” he whispers before thrusting his hips upward.

Over my shorts, his hand roams my thigh to my center, rubbing three fingers against the top of my pussy. The pressure itself is too intense to feel good, but if it takes his focus off us screwing, it’s worth the friction burn I’m sure to get.

“Pull your shorts and underwear down so you can take my—”

Oh my God!

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” I won’t. And I never promised. I didn’t even agree.

His furious rubbing continues.

I practically grit, “Guy, we’re not alone.”

“He doesn’t count,” is rasped into my ear a moment before his tongue traces the shell.

I don’t even know what he means by that. Khaos is a person, therefore he counts.

“Come on, cowgirl. Ride me.”

Behind us, there’s a creak against leather, like Khaos is shifting in his seat, too. That or he’s getting up. Is he standing to leave?

Instantly, I grab Guy’s wrist and pull his hand off me. Giving him a death glare, I put my ass to one side of his lap, half sitting on his thigh, half sitting on the armrest.

A moment of peace passes, then Guy’s guiding one of my hands toward his straining erection.

The thought of Khaos seeing this makes me rip my hand back. For whatever reason, I do not want him thinking I’m jerking off Guy.

From this angle, I can see Khaos didn’t leave. He didn’t even change seats.

I pretend like I’m scanning the side of the room for something while putting him in my periphery. Curtains? Yep, still there. Sconces? They’re not on, but like the curtains, they haven’t moved.

His head is facing straight ahead, forcing me to assume he’s watching the movie, not us.

I’m still not going to fool around with Guy but…

Curiosity gets the better of me and I twist my head an inch more.

My eyes collide with Khaos’s.

The movie flashes, illuminating the flare of his nostrils, that muscle in his jaw that keeps flexing, as well as his hands gripping the end of the armrests.

Finally, heat flares in my core.

Sinking down, I face forward.

Guy doesn’t try anything the rest of the movie, almost as if he’s the one with the reason to be upset.

The moment the credits begin to roll, Khaos pushes through the theater door without a word.

Guilt churns in my stomach. I should’ve insisted we leave him alone to watch his movie.

Guy stares after my stepbrother, muttering, “I should kick his ass.”

Um, okay. He didn’t even say that after Khaos called me a bitch and pushed me in the pool.

“What do you want to do now? Go upstairs and—”

He lifts me from his chair and checks his phone. Apparently, every man in this house needs to be pissed at me tonight.