Soren takes my shoulder again. “You saw him?”
“Just his shadow. I mean, it was him, but I couldn’t make out any details.”
Lev cuts in and presses, “And he didn’t attack?”
An agitated Tomas leans against the table, drawing close to the shoulder that isn’t guarded by a warm body. The guys are gathering close to me like I’m a prize to be protected—or an object ready to be used at any given second.
“Adelaide is too young for this shit,” Tomas spits. “She better never be threatened.”
My heart wrenches. “She didn’t get a card, right?”
He shakes his head, inspiring me to hug my shoulders. “I still have no idea who could have possibly done this.”
“I still say it’s someone from one of our families,” I state confidently. “Who has the most to lose?”
While the boys fall into a debate, I lean against the table, watching each of them suggest someone. Parker remains quiet, his eyes assessing the situation carefully. And when his gaze falls on me, my skin prickles with goose bumps. Those eyes pierce right through me, and yet I can’t read them. He’s not like Lev. He’s not expressive with his features.
It’s all in his actions.
For a split second, it feels like I’m about to be devoured until he breaks eye contact, focusing instead on Soren. A smile splits his face as he cuts in to say, “Well, I was her first. It makes sense why I would be threatened first.”
I roll my eyes, trying to hide my disgust. Of course, the conversation switched to me. What else would they bother talking about? It’s not like we have a potential murderer on our hands or something.
My brain spins as I recall that someone snuck into the room before the others, but I keep hoping it was Lev, his promises of protection still circulating my mind. When I look at him, he won’t meet my gaze, keeping those honey-dashed brown eyes focused on the ground.
To no one’s surprise, an argument breaks out, with Parker leading the debate. Somehow this always happens, reinforcing the fact that I’m merely their toy and not a human being. And they always discuss me like I don’t even exist. It’s weird watching them heatedly debate each other like I’m some kind of sex doll that just happens to have sentience.
When Parker grabs my arm, I swat his bicep, trying to break free of his grip.
“Fuck you, Soren,” he growls. “We’re getting married before graduation.”
My smacks are useless. Parker is too strong. But when Soren reaches in to pry Parker’s fingers off my arm, I feel a sense of hope.
“Alex is still up for grabs,” he claims firmly, my hopes dashing right out the window. “She’s not married yet.”
I grunt while sliding away from his hand. “Hey, I’m not a fucking piece of meat, you idiots.”
Silence cuts through the boathouse. It’s so thick that I feel like I might break under the weight of it, but I surprise myself by continuing, “I do have a choice, and I haven’t made one yet, okay? So, don’t get your fucking hopes up, you selfish pricks.”
Soren smiles smugly. “You’re still our toy, sugar.”
“Not if I take control.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
My eyes land on Tomas, who has been hanging back from the debate since Soren and Parker started getting into it. I march up to him, smack my hand against the back of his neck, and ram his lips to mine, hungrily devouring him with a fierce moan. His eager response sends shock waves through my body as his hands roam my waist.
Just when he’s about to cup my ass, I cut him off and go back to Soren. I repeat my consumption of his lips before moving on to Lev and then to Parker. I’m relishing my triumphant one-woman protest when Soren boxes me in against Parker.
And that’s when I know I’m in trouble.
Parker is the first to act. Maybe it’s just because he’s used to being in charge, or maybe he was the one to claim me, but I find his possessive touch more pleasurable than intimidating. He firmly grips my tits while Soren circles my waist to undo my jeans. Fight or flight threatens to kick in until Soren sweeps his fingers over my throat, inviting my head to rest on his shoulder.
Through half-closed lids, I see Tomas appear and then feel his thumb trace my bottom lip. “Be a good little slut and open your mouth for me, baby doll.”
I’m helpless to his encouragement. Once my mouth is open, he flattens his thumb over my tongue and I moan uncontrollably, my hips bucking as two hands slither beneath my waistband. One is firm and commanding while the other is slow, careful, cautious. Fuck, I don’t even know who’s touching me, but it doesn’t matter.
I’m soaked, and I want more.