Dirty Princes (Hot Candy 3)

It doesn’t. It can’t mean anything.

So I drag them both full speed back to the house and set about building a fire, keeping busy and zipping up my big mouth.

Brylee is exploring the house, the damn cat at her heels, giving me the occasional questioning look.

Brylee, not the cat. The only glances the cat shoots me are murderous.

Meanwhile, Riddick sits on the long sofa, staring out the sliding doors at the lake. He seems to like the view. I can sense his presence behind me without looking.

I also sense when Brylee enters the room, although she makes no noise on the plush carpets. My body is somehow attuned to them both.

The cat wanders up to me, sniffs at the fire and backs away with the hiss, running out of the room. I thought cats like fires.

Or is it me she hates?

“I have the marshmallows,” Brylee whispers.

“I’ll grab some sticks for them and make some hot chocolate. How does that sound?” I say, but something in her voice makes me turn around where I’m kneeling on the rug.

The fire leaps, flames dancing across the big room. She’s cast in gold, her eyes burning amber, her expression closed off.

Damn. I scared her. Or confused her. Whatever.

You suck, Ryan.

Getting to my feet, I walk over to where she’s standing and draw her to me. Fuck the marshmallows. I want her.

I brush my mouth over hers, and her hands grip my forearms tightly, her lashes fluttering. Oh yeah, baby. Forget about sugar. She’s sweeter.

“We could warm up first.” I glance at Riddick who’s watching us openly. “Warm each other up. Come here, man.”

“If you want me,” he says, arching a dark brow, “come and get me.”

I growl. Brylee squeals as I tear across the room to answer the challenge.

“Get him!” I tell her, and she laughs as we each grab his arms and drag him up. He huffs, eyes sparkling, as we pull him toward the fire. “You have the right to remain silent.”

“Or to be loud,” Brylee says.

He laughs, red tingeing his cheekbones. “Loud, huh?”

Hot arousal rushes through me at the thought of either of them getting loud. “Yeah, forget about remaining silent.”

&nb

sp; He’s laughing again, and shit, I really like that sound. I let go of him in order to drag the big cushions stacked by the wall for this precise purpose in front of the fireplace.

Plopping the cushions down, I push Brylee down on one of them, and Riddick on the other.

He lands awkwardly, with a grimace, and groans softly.

I stop in my tracks. “Is it your back?”

“I’m fine.”

I exchange a look with Brylee over his head. “I got an idea.”

“More ideas. Wow.” Snarky, but when he shifts on the cushion, turning on his side, his face contorts again.