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I fall into the story, letting some of the emotions fade away for now.

30

BRYNN

The car falls into a comfortable silence as we keep driving. The roads get clearer the closer we get to major cities, and it’s nice to be able to relax and just drift a bit. Ares is a steady driver, keeping us firmly in our lane and his hands on the wheel.

After staring out the window for a while, I pull Tate’s book out of my bag and settle in to read. Part of me feels a little embarrassed to be reading a book like this where they can see me, but a bigger part feels a thrill about it. Like I’m doing something dirty that might turn them on.

I know it turns Tate on, considering he leans forward in his seat every so often to check what part I’m at and which parts I linger on.

I move on from the sex scene I’ve been rereading, progressing through the story until I hit another really spicy scene. It starts out innocently enough, with Dominic and Alanna having dinner together, but then it quickly turns into her teasing him over dessert.

Dominic doesn’t let her get away with it, pushing her to follow through if she’s going to be a tease, but Alanna plays coy, trying to slip upstairs to shower without giving him what he wants, and that sparks him to flip a switch that takes him from teasing to incredibly dominant in about ten seconds.

He makes Alanna pay for her teasing by edging her until she’s a total mess for him, soaking wet and begging for relief, all of her earlier impishness gone in the face of him dragging it out like that.

Just reading about it makes my pulse skyrocket. I imagine myself in Alanna’s place, tied down on the bed, squirming and writhing, begging to be allowed to come. Dominic brings her right to the edge again and again, but backs off right when she would be about to crest that wave, making her sob with need.

My clit throbs as I read each paragraph slowly, and I can’t help but start shifting my hips a little, squeezing my thighs together.

Suddenly, Tate is very close. “Are you okay?” he asks, warm breath ghosting over the side of my face. “You’re squirming in your seat, Brynn.”

I can tell from the tone of his voice that he can tell exactly what’s got me unable to sit still, and he’s enjoying it.

That alerts Ares and Callan, who go tense and look at me as well. Oh, fuck. All of them know that I’m turned on and getting wet in this car. I wonder if they can smell it or if it’s just Tate’s teasing.

“I found the scene,” I tell Tate on a whisper.

Tate groans, and the sound hits me somewhere low, making my pussy ache with need. If we weren’t on the highway right now⁠—

Before I can complete that thought, Tate leans up to tap Ares on the shoulder.

“Take the next exit,” he says.

“Uh, okay? Why? Do you need a bathroom break?” Ares takes the exit even though he’s confused, pulling us into an area off the highway with gas stations and fast food restaurants.

“Left here,” Tate says.

Ares frowns, but takes the left, and I realize he’s following the signs for a local motel just a couple miles off the exit.

It’s one of those cheap, serviceable places you stay when you can’t drive anymore and need somewhere to bed down for the night and rest your eyes. At this time of day, everyone inside is probably getting ready to check out or are already gone, so it’s quiet, and there aren’t many cars in the lot.

Ares pulls in, and Callan speaks up. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“Brynn and I made a deal,” Tate explains. “I lent her a book and told her that she could pick whatever scene she likes best, and I’d recreate it for her.” Ares and Callan must know the kind of books that Tate likes to read because neither of them seems confused by that.

Tate gives me a look that makes me shiver, heat flashing in his eyes. “She found her scene, but it’s going to be a little bit different. Because it won’t just be me doing it. I’m going to have some help.”

A whimper spills out of me before I can stop myself. Ares curses under his breath, and I can see Callan’s eyes smoldering in the rearview mirror. Both of them are clearly on board with this plan.

We all pile out of the car, and Callan doesn’t let me take more than a couple of steps before he’s pulling me into his arms to carry me. I squeak in surprise, but my heart is racing too fast to complain about it. He’s strong and his chest is broad and sturdy, so I lean into him, letting him carry me inside the motel office.

There’s a woman behind the desk, watching videos on her phone. The office is all done up for the holidays with tinsel strung along the front of the desk and red velvet bows and garlands all around. There’s a kind of sad looking Christmas tree in one corner, blinking colorful lights intermittently.

“How can I help you?” the woman asks, sounding bored until she looks up and sees the four of us standing there. Her eyes travel from Tate and Ares to Callan and then to me in his arms, and she suddenly sits up straighter in her chair, putting her phone away.

I don’t know if it’s because Callan is holding on to me or if she can pick up on some of the tension burning between us all, but for a split second I swear I see her hide a smirk, as if she somehow knows what we’re coming here to do.