mouth follows the same path. No wonder he was able to tame a wild horse. I would have followed him to the stream. Would have crossed the county to keep his hands on me. “You tell me to stop,” he says softly. “Tell me to punch Christopher in the face. Whatever you say, that’s what happens.”
Heady, that’s the feeling of power. Addictive. Terrifying. “What if I’m wrong?”
“There’s no wrong,” Sutton says.
Christopher’s lips twist. “If there’s no wrong, then there’s no right.”
I could kill him, this man who was my stepbrother and my former confidant. This man who controls my fortune. Yes, I could strangle him easily and feel relief.
But not before I lose my virginity to him.
“I’m surprised you would share.” I could be speaking to either of them, but it’s Sutton who could have demanded we never answer the door.
Sutton who could have insisted Christopher go away.
His lips move against my neck, an enticement all their own. My skin tightens beneath him. “Do you remember what I told you the first day? In the boardroom? I don’t mind that you have unfinished business.”
Make him suffer all you want, as long as you don’t go home with him at the end of the night. That’s what he said about the gala. Is that what he thinks about tonight? Except I won’t be going home with either of them. “Unfinished business,” I say, unsteady. “Is that what we’re calling this?”
Christopher’s eyes flash. “How generous of my business partner.”
Words fall like pebbles into a large lake, almost soundless. Deceptively small. “That’s what I did with the library, isn’t it?” Sutton’s voice is low and faintly mocking. “You wanted it but didn’t have enough. I helped you do it.”
“Helped.” Christopher tastes the word, sounding hard and accusatory. He looks at the places where Sutton touches me—one hand on my arm, his other on my waist. His mouth less than an inch from my neck. I can feel the soft caress of his breath. “This is how you help.”
“Do you want her?” Sutton says, sounding unconcerned. The way you would ask if someone is having a nice day, polite indifference—you could almost think he doesn’t care. If not for the erection hard and throbbing against my ass.
“I’ve always wanted her.”
The words should be sweet. Maybe for another woman they would be, but they only make me angry. They make me furious. Not the snake-hair kind of fury. This is sly and seductive. It ripples along my skin, turning me into someone else.
Someone who turns her face back to meet Sutton’s lips.
I start the kiss, but Sutton is the one who takes it deep. It’s not a show, the way he licks inside my lips like he’s trying to taste my essence. He must find it, because he groans into my mouth—soft, like maybe he doesn’t want to make that sound. I bite him for it, because my body is wild and feral and wants him to make the sound again.
Only a small part of my mind listens. Any second now the hotel door will open and close. Christopher will leave. For so many reasons he’ll leave. Even putting aside the fact that he never touched me after that night in the art gallery, even ignoring the tense competition between the two men… threesomes aren’t something men do, are they?
Frat boys talk about it at school. Two women, that’s what they want. Bonus points if they’re twins. But never two men, not for ones as confident and commanding as these. They would kill each other, which maybe is the point. This is a gladiator match, and I’m the arena.
The door doesn’t open and close.
A whisper on the back of my hand. On my cheek. It could almost be nothing, except that my skin remembers. I break the kiss to see Christopher tracing my skin, not touching. There’s an expression of fierce concentration on his face. This man can discuss advanced economic theory like it’s the alphabet, and he studies my shoulders, my breasts, the indent of my waist, like I’m a puzzle beyond comprehension.
Those eyes have never been more opaque than now. It’s impossible to imagine what he’s thinking behind black marble. Is he surprised that we ended up here, after hating each other for so long? Or does it feel inevitable, like every sharp word and growled insult has led to this?
That’s what it feels like for me—inevitable. It’s finding silt at the bottom of the ocean after a long way down. I knew