I shiver, my words strangled. “I think you’re wrong.”
“I think he’s right,” Brock whispers into my ear, gripping my waist from behind.
I jump, my heart speeding toward implosion. I go to turn, but Brock holds me in place, his nose buried in the sweaty waves of my hair as he pushes his pelvis against my ass.
“Without a doubt, he’s correct.”
“There’s no question I am.” Ryder’s voice comes out a hungry rasp as he steps back. “I’ll meet ya at the bar.”
“Don’t leave, bro.” Brock moves my hair from my neck, his mouth landing there, teasing, taunting. “Amber won’t mind if we both dance with her, will you?”
“No,” I breathe, immediately shocked at my answer as I sink into the soft touch of Brock’s fingers kneading my hips. I hesitate a second, embarrassment seizing my thoughts. “Do . . . you mind?”
“Not at all. That’s why I’m offering, baby.” Brock lightly bites my shoulder, his breathing heavy as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my skirt. “The thought of you sandwiched between us turns me the fuck on.”
Convinced the alcohol’s talking for Brock, a nervous giggle erupts from my throat. I stare at Ryder, waiting for him to make a move. Frozen, Ryder offers a guarded smile, surprise evident in his loss for words.
“Stop being a pussy, Ashcroft,” Brock says, “and put your hands on my girl.”
Ryder blinks. “Well, since you put it that way, how can I resist?” He steps toward me, takes my face in his hands, his eyes searching, gauging my reaction. Chest pressed to mine, he whispers into my ear, “Are you sure you’re cool with this?”
I nod, my heart galloping as our bodies sway in unison to the slow, sultry beat. Ryder grins, his fingers tiptoeing down my cheeks, along my collarbone, their journey ending on my waist, where he grips them.
“She feels nice, doesn’t she?” Brock lifts my arms, swathing them around his neck as he feathers his mouth against my ear.
A soft moan escapes me as I hold Ryder’s gaze, his heady cologne swamping my senses. He bites his lip, raw hunger surfacing over his face as he moves his hands to my rib cage, his thumbs drawing small, tantalizing circles just below my breasts. My pulse rocks, the perils of their seduction wrenching the oxygen from my laboring lungs.
“Like fucking heaven.” With his eyes locked on mine, Ryder’s thumbs continue their gentle persuasion along my ribs, each pass testing new limits, nearly brushing my nipples. They bud, hardening like gemstones. Flames of sin ignite me, chills skidding across my skin as he pushes a knee between my legs. My lips part on a second moan, and Ryder smirks, my heart bouncing out of control as he grinds his hips against mine. “She’s a beautiful gift. One neither of us deserves.”
My muscles go limp, my need for him—for them—mounting by the second. I dig my nails into Brock’s scalp as he tips my head back and slides his tongue against my neck, licking the sweat from my flesh.
“She is a gift. But I’m not sure she realizes this,” Brock points out. “I wonder if there’s anything we could, I don’t know, do to make her aware of just how fucking sweet she is.”
“That might be difficult,” Ryder says, a delicious grin spreading over his mouth as he coils a piece of my hair around his finger. “But I’m sure we could come up with something that would . . . satisfy her.”
“Oh, you two are good.” I smile, their dual stimulation sucking the last vestiges of morality from my brain. “Did either of you go to school for this?”
“No. They’re just players.” A hiccupped giggle freezes the air. “They’re about to do you real good, but real dirty.”
I twist my head, my gaze landing on an inebriated Hailey Jacobs. Blonde hair hanging messily over her shoulders, red lips puckered into a sneer, and an arm wrapped around her friend’s waist, the chick can barely stand.
“Christ,” Ryder mumbles. He drops his hands to my hips, a scowl anchoring his face as he stares at Hailey.
“What’s the matter, Ryder? Afraid you and your buddy’s secret’s gonna come out?” She turns her wicked blue eyes on mine. “I thought I was the only one they liked double-teaming. Apparently I was wrong.”
My breathing screeches to a stop. I jerk back, neither man’s possessive hold able to keep me in place. “What the hell did you just say?”
She stumbles into my chest, and beer from her bottle splashes onto my sweater. “I’ll make it quick, bitch. Don’t feel special that they’re all over you at the same time. You’re nothing but—”
“Shut the fuck up, Hailey,” Brock growls. He grips the back of her neck, tugging her away from me. “You’re drunk, and you’re about to catch a fucking beating if you say another word.”
She drags a finger down Brock’s cheek, a purr seducing her tone. “Since I know you’d never rough up a woman, I find your threat entertaining but sexy. If anyone knows that I like it rough, it’d be you and Ryder, wouldn’t it?”
Blood.
Hers.
I want it.
But the poison in Brock’s eyes stills my rapid heart. What the skank said is true—Brock would never lay a hand on a woman. But she can only taunt a hungry lion for so long, and I know that look. I’ve lived in homes where it was the last warning before a man lost it.
“No, Brock!” I yank his hand off Hailey’s neck, my pulse hammering as I glance between him and Ryder.