with me, though,” I say boldly, knowing I’m playing with wildfire.
“No, he’s not, but . . .” His head dips low, his nose running through my hair and down over my neck. To be honest, it’s the effective move Marek used on me earlier tonight.
“But you are.” I turn my head just enough to place his lips on mine. There’s no thought involved, except Marek’s voice in the back of my mind. Maybe you should get to living.
There’s a hundred percent chance Marek didn’t mean for me to kiss Byron, my teacher, but I find myself leaning in and opening for him. The moment his tongue skims my bottom lip, my inhibitions fly out the window.
He lifts my blouse, exposing my stomach, and bends, kissing along my ribs while I play with his perfectly maintained hair. His hands dive into my jeans, forcing the button to pop. I pull back enough to stare between us, loving the way his big hand looks against my small frame. Biting my lip, I inhale a whisper of a breath, sinking into the sensation he’s creating.
“You like my hands on you, don’t you?” He circles my body, keeping his fingers on my center until his chest flattens against my back. With one hand over my chest, Byron runs the tip of his nose over the side of my face, setting my nerves on fire.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Marek’s voice breaks me from the spell Byron’s hands have put me under.
His presence in the room is like ice water flowing through my veins, awakening me from the deepest dream. He stands in the doorway, breaking his attention away from Byron and me, only to return with a feverish desire. If I hadn’t pulled far enough away to clear my own mind, I wouldn’t have seen the hint of excitement.
Does he enjoy Byron’s hands all over me?
“Nothing, man. We’re just talking.” Byron shoots me an unnerving smirk as he pulls away and settles on the edge of the mattress.
Marek walks further into the room, running a hand across the top of Byron’s dresser. “Don’t stop on my account.” He lifts his chin enough to expose his thirst and hunger. The storm brewing inside him is scary but exciting.
“I’m not.” When Marek covers my neck with his hand, a worried laugh sticks in my throat. “I don’t do this kind of thing.” I try better to explain.
“What kind of thing is that, Palmer?” His attention shifts to my unbuttoned jeans while he bites at the corner of his lip. “You looked awfully comfortable doing just that.”
“How long were you watching us?” I step back, desperate for distance, but he crowds against me.
“Long enough.” He snatches me by the wrist and places my hand over his erection, pinning us closer together. “The desperation in your chest you’re trying so damn hard to tamp down, the same one you let go of for a second with Byron, is the exact way I want you to feel every single second of your life.”
“Why? Who am I to you, Marek?” I jerk my hand away, understanding in a flash what he’s talking about. The feeling is gone, lost within my own mind, just as he’d said.
Marek wraps his arm around my waist, making me feel small in his hold, and tugs me close. “I don’t know yet.”
“That’s not good enough for me.” I shove his chest to create space and step back, surprised he allows me this liberty.
“So, what’s it going to be, Palmer?” His head tilts to the side, his gaze methodical and calculated. “You going to let us in?”
“Us?” I croak out, checking over my shoulder.
Byron’s hand is under the waistband of his pants, moving up and down as he watches us.
“Us.” Marek crowds me again, tucking my hair behind my ear.
There’s no time to think, to protest, before his mouth crashes into mine. His hand slips into the back of my hair, resting in the perfect position to control our kiss. One swipe of his tongue has my lips parting with an eager breath.
His soft, demanding strokes are so different than Byron’s. Marek brings emotion, whereas Byron is there to possess.
Hands on my hips startle me. Byron invades my space, pressing kisses along my shoulder. His breaths warm my skin through the thin material of my blouse. Marek pulls back, watching Byron move up my neck. As he does, Marek starts working on the buttons of my blouse, until the silky fabric parts, sending