That I’ve misread every sign, every signal.
That Marcus would never even consider sharing me.
That when I answer his question, he’ll throw me off his lap and go after the other two men the same way he went after Greg Pruitt that night outside the bar. With single-minded determination and only one goal—to end them.
But I can’t lie about this either.
“Yes.”
The word slips from my lips and seems to hang suspended in the space between me and Marcus. I watch him as intently as he’s watching me, desperate to get inside his head, to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.
He nods, and I let out a shaky breath.
The light blue and rich brown of his eyes seem peaceful and calm for once, the colors clear and bright. He tugs his full bottom lip between his teeth slowly, seeming to consider something. Then he grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, a smile curving the corners of his lips.
“Show me.”
I blink at him, my eyebrows shooting up. “What?”
His smile widens a little, and now I see something else in his expression. Something almost like a challenge.
“Show me, angel.”
He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, then slips the thick digit into my mouth. Unconsciously, my tongue darts forward to taste it, and he makes a noise low in his throat as my lips close around his thumb. His gaze flicks up to meet mine, loaded with more emotions than I can identify.
“Show me how you feel about my brothers,” he repeats quietly. “Because I already know how they feel about you.”
Chapter 16
I can’t look away from Marcus’s heated stare. My tongue is still tasting the pad of his thumb, my chest rising and falling fast as my breath picks up.
A ripple of shock washes through me at his words, but it’s followed closely by a swell of desire.
My fears were unfounded. Marcus isn’t pissed off at the idea of me being with his two closest friends, the two men who are his brothers in everything but blood.
No.
He’s turned on by it.
The desire burning in his striking blue and brown eyes turns me on too, and I bite down hard on the tip of his thumb, wrapping my lips around it and sucking.
He growls, then yanks his thumb out of my mouth and palms the back of my head, dragging my face to his for a bruising kiss. His tongue delves between my lips, tangling with mine as our mouths clash.
Everything I need to know is in this kiss, and it lights my blood on fire.
I fist the front of his white shirt, pulling him closer to me as I angle my body toward his, forgetting to be gentle as need surges through me like a madness.
If I hurt him, Marcus doesn’t even seem to notice or
care. He nips at my bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as he groans softly. I can feel him stiffening against me, but he catches me with a hand around my throat, squeezing just hard enough to make me break our heated kiss.
My lips are tingling, and I gaze at him with a slightly dazed look, almost tempted to risk cutting off my air supply completely just for the chance to kiss him again.
Marcus smiles as if he can tell what I’m thinking, but then he jerks his chin to indicate the other two men in the room. “Show me, angel. I want to see.”
I nod, trying to catch my breath. He helps me slide off his lap, depositing me on my feet beside his chair, his hands hungry and possessive on my waist and hips. He gropes one of my ass cheeks and then gives it a sharp slap, making my entire body react as slick arousal gathers in my core.
Forcing my feet into motion, I step toward the chair where Ryland is sitting. The broad-shouldered man has taken off his bowtie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. His jacket is draped over the side of the chair, and his sleeves have been rolled up his forearms, showing off the colorful ink that covers his skin. He looks casual and confident, raw masculinity barely contained by his tuxedo.