Things are silent for a long moment before Khalil turns to me. “Truth or dare, Becca?”
Since the game has moved into raunchy territory, as truth or dare inevitably does, I opt for truth this round.
Khalil glances at Shane before delivering my question, “Who’s better in bed, Becca? Me or Shane?”
22
Kissing the hell out of me
The glare Shane sends in Khalil’s direction is so icy I’m surprised his nose doesn’t fall off from frostbite. I’m shooting my own nasty look at him, shocked by his question, and angry that he’s revealed the fact that we’ve had sex just to get some kind of revenge on Shane.
Shane clearly didn’t know until now, and he’s not happy about it, to say the least. He’s not saying anything, but he doesn’t have to; anger is written all over his face and evident in his body language.
I remind myself that Shane has no legitimate reason to be mad, and he certainly has no claim on me, but that doesn’t stop me from being supremely uncomfortable about this messy situation.
“Well?” Khalil prompts, pretending he doesn’t notice my death stare.
Of course, I wouldn’t answer the question even if I had a preference, which I don’t. Shane and Khalil were two of the most pleasurable sexual experiences I’ve ever had, but I’m not going to tell them that either.
“Give me a dare,” I say through gritted teeth.
Khalil’s sly grin widens. He was expecting me to duck his question, and he had an alternative ready. “I dare you to kiss Marcos.”
My mouth falls open. If his truth question was shocking, his dare is a bombshell. What in the hell is going through his head?
Then I see Khalil watching Shane, monitoring his reaction. He wants me to kiss one of the other guys simply to aggravate Shane.
My eyes dart to Marcos, who seems unaffected by all of this. He almost looks bored, until he meets my eyes, and I see something deeper there. “C’mon over,” Marcos says, gesturing with a lift of his chin.
I was prepared to refuse the dare, because Marcos has shown about as much life as a wet paper bag, but the way he’s looking at me now tells a different story. I decide that I can’t say no, because curiosity would eat away at me the rest of the night.
All four men are silent as I cross the room to Marcos’s chair. I lean down, intending on giving him a brief peck on the lips, but he grabs my arm and pulls me onto his lap, drawing a cheer of encouragement and laughter from Khalil.
I end up sitting sideways on his legs with his arm cradling my back. Marcos is leaner than the other men, but his long frame seems to be entirely constructed of hard muscle. I’m stunned to suddenly be so close to him. The heat from his skin seeps into mine, and the leathery scent of his cologne surrounds me, making me feel like he and I are in a bubble, somehow separate from the others in the room.
Or maybe it’s his eyes making me feel that way. They’re fixed on mine, except for when they briefly drop down to my lips.
According to the dare, I’m supposed to kiss him, but I’m frozen in place, unable to initiate anything now that I’m so close to him. I’m lucky I can still breathe.
“Kiss him,” Khalil says from somewhere outside of our bubble, breaking the spell just enough so that I can lean even nearer to this quiet, indifferent man whose lap I’m on. I press my lips against his tentatively, immediately surprised by how soft they are, when everything else about him feels so hard.
As soon as we make contact, his hand presses into my side, taking possession. His mouth opens slightly and he turns his head to bring our lips together at a different angle. He briefly tugs my upper lip between his, then samples my bottom lip with a swipe of the tip of his tongue.
Tilting his head again, he returns for more, and I realize that I may have forgotten to participate, as surprised as I am by this response from him. His hand slides up my side, finding the bottom of my bra through my shirt, and comes to rest there, pressing into my flesh like a tease.
His other hand covers my knees, tipping my body toward him as I kiss him back, drawn to the indescribable and very appealing flavor of him.
Khalil is making some kind of noise about what’s going on, but I can’t be bothered to pay any attention to it. All of my focus is on Marcos and every point of contact he’s making with my body, especially my mouth.
He’s kissing the hell out of me, and my body is firing up its response: nipples hardening, heart pounding, pussy getting good and wet.