“I’m not.”
When his hand rests on my waist, every fiber of my being seems to still. I don’t blink. I don’t breathe. I’m a marionette, waiting for the movement of his fingers. He dips low again. His lips are so close to the shell of my ear that I can feel their warmth. “I’d love to watch you come,” he whispers, and my grip on his shoulder intensifies involuntarily. “I’d love to see the look of ecstasy on your face. Are you warm between your legs? Is your body telling you what your mind is denying?”
Oh my God, it is. It so is.
If we weren’t surrounded by people, I’d slump against Dex’s body and tell him to take me, here and now. I don’t even care about how wrong it is to risk screwing up this job. I’m loose-limbed and loose-brained from too many cocktails, but for the first time in a long time, my mind feels clear.
I’ve been slowly dying in the wake of my last relationship. My poor lady garden is overgrown with tumbleweed, and it’s so long since anyone explored it. I’m desperate to know what it would feel like to truly enjoy sex, not be waiting for the person I’m with to finally care enough to ask if all the rubbing and thrusting is doing anything for me.
This is my chance to find out.
Luna Evans told me to go for it. She told me that I should work on manifesting my ideal life. She’s a superstar with the perfect life, isn’t she? Maybe I should listen to someone who seems to have it all.
“A game?” I ask Dex, moving my hand to touch the ribbed collar of his tight, black shirt.
“A game where we’re all the winners, every time.” Dex smiles, his fingers trailing over the tips of mine, sending a visible shiver up my spine and over my scalp. Winners. Every time.
I want to be a winner. I want these men to help me win so much that I forget my name and how many summers I’ve existed on this earth without sunlight. I want them to burn me with their passion and consume me with their desires. I want to truly know all the feelings that are described in every romance novel I’ve ever read.
“I’ll leave you to figure out the rules,” I blurt before the tentative side of my consciousness has a chance to come to the fore. “But I’m willing to play.”
From the sparkle that forms in Dex’s eyes, I can tell he’s pleased, but I can also sense surprise. It’s cute that he wasn’t sure that I’d be a done deal. It means he isn’t arrogant about himself or his friends.
“I can’t wait to play with you,” he says. Then his lips brush my ear, and a shiver of anticipation passes through me that is so strong, Dex sees it again. “We’ll take good care of you, Kyla. Really good care.”
And for a second, I feel tears burn in my throat. No one has ever said that to me before. No one has ever promised to look after me. I’ve been fending for myself for a long time. Taking care of other people too. I always give too much to every relationship I’ve ever had, and it’s left me feeling hollow.
It’s why I’ve stayed away from men.
Dawn is the only person in my life who really looks out for me.
I swallow down the emotion that doesn’t fit with the moment at all. I don’t want Dex to know that behind all this fun and flirty talk, I’m a little broken. I want to be the shiny dime that he’s polished me to be. I want to relax into the game and play to have fun. Stupid it may be, but for once, I’m going to live by Dawn’s tattoo. You only live once.
If eight inked gods want to show me a good time, who the hell am I to say no?
10
LEX
"You told her what?"
I press my finger to my ear and wiggle it back and forth, wanting to make sure I don't have a blockage that's making my brother sound nonsensical.
Dex reaches behind his head and tugs out the band in his hair, letting it fall around his shoulders. "I told her we're going to play a game with her. Each of us will put the details of a date and a kink onto a piece of paper and put it into a bowl. She gets to pick one out whenever she wants, and whoever's paper it is gets to take Kyla out and show her a good time.
"A date I'm fine with, but a kink?"
"I don't know why you're acting like some kind of monk. We've all known each other for long enough to have had plenty of drunken discussions about what gets us off. There's enough variety in our predilections to blow Kyla's mind."