Badly Behaved

“Oh shit, Trouble.” Beretta breathes and Ransom’s eyes lift to his. “They’ll really be watching now.”

The second he says it, the DJ shouts the next phase of the night has begun, and I’m unconvinced it’s coincidental.

The lights dim, and excitement erupts as the room fades to total blackness, leaving nothing but the neon around the room. There are no bodies, no shapes, and the sound, it adjusts as well. The tempo drops lower, the bass deeper, yet slower. It’s a sexy sway of words.

“We’re just dancing, right?” My voice is far raspier than it should be. “Like everyone else?”

“Yeah.” His tease is heavy, and he presses himself into me. “Just like everyone else.”

My arms come up to loosely drape over Ransom’s shoulders, and his gaze locks on mine.

The three of us sway to the beat, our bodies following each other’s and the room begins to warm.

Or that’s how it feels.

My blood is pumping fiercely, my skin hot, and my body is in complete control of me now.

My core pulses heavily, growing wilder as my fingers slide along Ransom’s neck, discovering the barren beat his thumps to, at twice the speed of mine.

My lips part, and the pads of his fingers dig into me, the heat of his hands felt beneath the fabric of my dress.

My ass cheeks clench and Beretta’s hand comes around to grip my chin, jerking my head to the side so he can meet my eyes.

His are tight at the corners, narrowed, and flying between mine, but just as quickly, they snap forward to Ransom’s.

Before he can release me, Arsen is standing at our sides, two shot glasses in his hands.

Arsen’s knuckle glides along my jaw, guiding my head back, so I’m propped against Beretta’s shoulder, my cheekbone lined with his jaw.

Arsen slips closer, and Beretta’s arm wraps around his shoulder as he lifts the shot glass to my lips and waits.

I open my mouth and he pours the clear, warm liquid down my throat. Beretta takes the other right after, his face grazing along mine.

With my head dropped the way it is, his lips are at the edge of my view, right there for me to watch as his tongue slips out, teasing the corner of his mouth, and I must attempt to reach for him, because the next thing I know, my wrist is caught in flight.

My head snaps upright and Ransom tugs me toward him again, but this time, he pulls my body flush to his.

There’s no space to move, no air to breathe.

Or there is, but it’s a shared air. A thick, asphyxiating air that allows no room for reason, only room for him.

His blue eyes blaze, bright and brilliant, drowning my own.

His chest rises and falls against mine, with mine, but then Beretta is behind him, wrapping one arm over his shoulder, his free hand locking on to his bicep. At the same time, Arsen slips up behind me, his head molding into the crook of my neck, arms coming around my middle, locking me to him.

His feet shuffle me forward as Beretta’s shuffle Ransom’s backward. I begin to protest, but then his teeth graze along my collarbone.

My hand flies down to his locked around my abdomen, and I forget to step when they slip lower, pushing into me just below my panty line.

I nearly trip, but he’s quick, his palm flattening over my chest to save me from face planting.

His soft chuckle fans along my neck and I close my eyes.

Next thing I know, I’m staring into a dark room, black canvases framed over the windows to block out the light, a thick, neon green clay dripping from the center and illuminated by the black light above.

Arsen ushers me farther in, toward a black leather chaise in the center of the room, soft music flowing from somewhere, but it disappears as the click of a lock echoes in my ears, and all I hear now is my own pulse beating out of my skin.

My shins meet the cold seat and whip around, my chest slamming into Arsen. His hand shoots up, capturing the back of my neck, and he yanks me closer, aligning his lips perfectly with mine. But he holds there, impeccably still, a hopeful message in his gaze, one I’m not sure I understand, not that I get the chance, because behind him, a shadow calls to me.

My eyes break from his, finding Ransom tucked in the corner, his body rigid and gaze strained, Beretta still hanging on to him.

Arsen’s exhale is soft and lulling. With gentle movements, he releases me, joining the other two in the corner.

The light above us cuts off, and the room grows dark. Black.

Blackout.

Goose bumps rise along my skin, but I don’t move.

The soft rustle of clothing sounds, causing my toes to curl in my heels, and all at once, three pairs of eyes flash before me.