SOPHIA
Ishould be sleeping, but instead, my whole body is humming. I’ve been here for forty-eight hours and kissed three different men … or let them kiss me. I touch my lips and shake my head.
Holden was … special, tender. Roman took control in a way that is totally unfair because how is a woman supposed to resist being swept off her feet? And I just couldn’t resist Nick. The opportunity was right there! I would have been an idiot to ignore the way to get the upper hand and show I’m more than some lucky kid who learned a few things in college … although I learned the make-out and flip move in college too.
I groan and rub my hands over my face. Tossing and turning for hours makes me feel worse, so I get up and head downstairs. I know that this little living area isn’t used much by the guys. Hell, this whole section of the house seems to only get used when I’m involved.
After listening for a long moment, I relax into the couch and turn the TV on as low as possible without muting it. Captions keep me in the loop.
I usually don’t mind taking up space, but I feel like I’m … inconvenient. Like they don’t really want me here, or they do, but not for more than an hour or so romp. I’m not stupid. I haven’t missed Gunner’s eyes tracking my ass or Roman’s hungry gaze on my mouth, as if they’re trying to figure out the best way to construct a fantasy about me.
But that’s stupid, over-exhausted talk, and I know it. I’m just new. That’s all. The kisses are to feel me out – probably – well, the ones I didn’t instigate. Did I instigate with Holden? I hadn’t exactly told him to stop … and it took two of us to get me on his lap. Nick was 100% me. So only Roman took control, and I definitely didn’t say no. I just folded under him, happy to be chosen for that particular experiment.
“I’m such a slut.” I grumble, rubbing my forehead.
“Good.”
I jump and turn to see Gunner. He chuckles as he leans his head to the side, a drink in his hand. “Sluts are women who live and take what they want.”
“Sure. That’s … a definition.”
He walks to me and sits beside me, leaving adequate space between us. “It’s what I choose to believe considering how many times I’ve been called a “man-slut” … as if the term has a gender.”
I smirk slightly, and he winks at me. “What’s going through that Ivy-league head of yours?”
“Don’t know. I just … can’t sleep.” I shrug, wanting to escape. It’s when I’m alone with them that problems start. I swallow. “I should try again.”
“Exercise normally helps.” He shrugs. “For some.”
“For some? You don’t exercise?” I look him over, taking in his massive arms, his muscle, in general, that’s beautifully displayed from his tank top and p.j. pants combo.
“Not at night, I don’t … I get to sleep another way.” He smirks at me.
“Drinking?”
“Closer.”
“Then I don’t want to know.” I stand up and shake my head. Gunner catches my wrist and gently pulls me back to him. I huff. “What?”
“You’re not stupid.” His voice is a dangerously rough caress.
“You’re making me feel it.” I hiss.
He drags me onto his lap. I leave my lungs behind, having to catch my breath as I stable myself against his chest. Gunner’s eyes bore through me like he can drag answers from my throat or more.
“I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, Sophie.” The condensation from his drink splashes on my knee and rolls over my thigh, pulling goosebumps. Gunner follows the line with his finger and licks his bottom lip. “You feel it.”
Oh, I definitely feel something against my ass, but that doesn’t have anything to do with this conversation. Just like I feel his hand continuing up the outside of my thigh and towards my bottom. “Or you’re about to file an H.R. complaint against me.”
“We’re at home,” I whisper, still not sure if I want to push him away or drag him closer. The hot and cold – literally – has me on edge. I swallow. “Gunner, please. There’s too much going on lately.”
“Talk to me about it.”
“We just met. We’re not friends. We’re not close.” I argue.
I have to put up some walls. Matt and I are o.k. – he’s engaged after all. Now, if I can get Gunner to see reason, explain things to Nick, so he knows it was a one-time show of strength and manipulation, then I’ll be okay. Because Holden has promised it didn’t happen, and I have a feeling that as big and controlling as Roman is if I say no, he’ll back away with a suave grace that will make me beg him to come back.
But I can’t want any of them. They’re my dad’s friends, partners, coworkers. What am I thinking? Their age difference alone should put me off … right? Then why the hell does it just turn me on?
“We’re very close, Sophia.” Gunner adjusts me in his arms, bringing me so close to his face that I can feel his breath across my lips.
“You’re drunk.” I accuse him.
He chuckles. “If I was drunk, I wouldn’t be talking. I’d be doing other things with my mouth. This is restraint, sweets.”
A shiver works down my spine, and I lick my lip. What do I really have to lose? I’ve kissed everyone else. Why not Gunner? Why not let them find out, hate me, and then we can all move on. It’ll be that easy, right? Holden might not tell, but he’ll hear about it, and then it’ll be clear.
I don’t actually want any of them. I’m just a confused, impulsive little shit who knows when it’s time to be business-minded. Right? I can make that happen.
Gunner catches my chin in his hand, dragging me closer, so all I see is his handsome face. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“What you’re feeling.” It’s more of a demand than a question. “Do you want me to let you go?”
“I …”
“This is your out. Tell me to let you go, and I will. I will set you to the side, get up, and go to bed.” Gunner breathes, rubbing his nose along mine until I swear my lips are upset they haven’t gotten any attention.
I lean towards him, giving in to his touch. I’m too tired to resist him. He feels too good, is too reasonable. And he’s willing to let me go. He’s giving me an option, and I can take it. I bite my lip and turn my head to avoid Gunner’s intense gaze.
“Time’s up, Sophie.”
“What?”
I jump as his lips caress my throat, his tongue stroking over my sensitive skin. I gasp, and my nails dig into his shoulders. Gunner continues his slow exploration, tongue, and lips, and teeth charting a map on my throat with bites and teases that have me wet.
He gets to the inside of my shoulder and works his way back up. I shiver and groan, frustrated. If he would just be done, I could run. And I have to run, don’t I? It’s basically a sin to enjoy this. I shouldn’t enjoy it. I should push him away, hit him, and lock myself away in my room.
But my body doesn’t get that memo. I turn my head, giving him more access to my throat, welcoming him to suck my earlobe and graze his teeth across. When he exhales, I shiver and feel how damp my underwear are.
It’s insane. I’ve never been this turned on from having my neck kissed. I don’t know how to cope with it. Just as I’m sure that my whole body is going to break out in shivers, Gunner turns my chin and makes me face him.
Our eyes hold even as our noses brush. I can feel the tease of his lips barely brushing mine as he pants. Fuck it. I need something, anything. Any ounce of friction against any inch of my body.
I grab the back of his neck and lean into him. Gunner groans and licks deep into my mouth, but his tongue darts back just as quickly. He meets me halfway, his tongue tracing the inside of my lip, then teasing the tip of mine. I whimper and dig my fingers into his hair.
When Gunner’s drink brushes my knee, I jump and draw back.
Fuck. We’re not even alone, really. We’re making out on the fucking couch! I gasp and jump up, staring at Gunner. He settles back into the couch, eyes on me. He takes a long drink and offers me his glass. I can’t say no. Not when I can still taste him on my bottom lip.
“My dad …” I whisper.
“Will never know.” He whispers. “I’m good at discretion. So are the others.”
My face pales, and I feel dizzy. “Others?”
“Your father’s clueless. You’re not. The way Roman watched you at dinner. Holden’s intensifying silence, Nick’s nervous foot tapping. None of us will tell him. We’re too fucking greedy.”
I swallow and take a step back. “He can’t know.”
“He won’t. Everything that we do will be kept from him.”
“But you’re his friends.” I gasp. “Why don’t you feel guilty?”
“I do.” Gunner assures, taking his drink back and finishing it before setting it on the table. “But some things are worth guilt.”
“I’m not a thing.”
Gunner stands, closing the distance between us with carefully measured steps until he claims my chin in his hand. He leans towards me, sucking my bottom lip between his and then biting, dragging me forward by my bottom lip until he growls and lets me go.
“You could be my toy. I promise to take excellent care of you..” His wicked grin makes my stomach flip.
“I’m a person.” But I don’t sound indignant. I sound like I’m mewling. My legs are shaking, my skin is searing hot. “Not a toy.”
Gunner curls my hair around his finger. “You’re a stickler for words? ”
“This is too much.” I breathe.
Gunner takes my hand and walks me up the stairs to my little loft. He motions to the bed. “It’s just a dream. You’re sleeping.”
“Liar.”
“Just like you saying you don’t want to be a toy.” He whispers in my ear, pulling me back so I can feel how hard he is against my lower back. “Just like if I was to say I can leave it at one kiss.”
“No kiss. It never happened. It was a dream.” I whisper.
Gunner brushes my hair off my shoulder and sucks my earlobe until I shiver and fight the tingling spreading across my breasts and hardening my nipples. “Sorry, sweets. You can say it over and over, but I know what I tasted, felt, want to feel.”
I swallow, but by the time I move, he’s walking down the stairs. What the hell am I supposed to do with four men trying to claim my attention? What if they fight! What if this gets brought into work? What if I stop fighting it?
I gulp and throw myself in bed, dragging the comforter and duvet over me as if that will protect me from their wants, so I only have to confront my own.