8. Margaux #2
Yet my body seemed to think otherwise. Starved for affection, that touch was a siren call to my soul.
I needed to breathe.
I couldn’t go from prude little virgin to mega slut in a matter of hours, probably. Was it all simply because my body had been deprived of the freedom to choose anything? Up until yesterday I didn’t even think I had a type or a sex drive.
The type in question though? Apparently all this. I squeezed my eyes shut just to peek through one eye. All eyes were on me. All but Ronan’s.
Yeah. I was attracted to all this. The scowl of Knox had me wondering what his repressed touch would be like. Jett’s playfulness? Something told me if he was unleashed in bed, he’d do anything to please a woman, and Talon?
“Fuck,” I said without meaning to.
“What, princess? Are you asking for or offering?” Talon asked.
All logic could go to hell. I looked up at him under my lashes using the practiced smile that got me the attention I never wanted until now.
“If I were asking, would you tell me no?”
I watched his throat as he swallowed. I stopped denying myself the need to touch and ran my fingers over his throat and down to his chest.
Maybe if I could just get rid of my v card I might be able to control my libido and focus on my future. Maybe.
The second Talon shifted away, I felt like I could breathe again, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to.
“Come on, Talon, don’t frighten our little Margaux. Tonight we get to go play, and Margaux is our little heartbreaker,” Jett said.
I stilled. “Heartbreaker? I don’t, I mean I haven't exactly had a lot of practice.” I stopped talking when Knox laughed. He was so quiet that if he didn’t have a presence about him, I could have almost forgotten he was there. Almost.
“Angel, the heartbreaker is the card in Texas Hold’em that could make or break the hand,” Knox said, moving away from the wall.
My eyes followed him around the room as he got closer. He was so close I could see the droplets of sweat that must have been from a workout.
“So, angel. Are you going to make or break our hand tonight?” he asked.
Jett pushed through the two of them, not letting me get too caught up in the moment.
“Why do you always gotta steal my toys? Go shower and get dressed. I’m picking out her dress. Not my problem you idiots prioritized working out instead of our pretty girl here.”
Jett’s hands were on my hips, and lord help me, I didn’t push him away. I just let him. I’d always thought my parents' death ruined my need for touch. In fact, the idea of being touched made me want to crawl out of my own skin, like escaping this body would help.
But right now? I liked the heat of his hands seeping through the dress.
Two days ago when I’d offered up my virginity as a prize, the most shocking part about it had been the idea that none of them would been a loss.
I would have gladly lost to any of them.
No logic could explain this, but now? Something inside me trusted this group of whatever they were.
I’d read somewhere, that there was no logic in love.
I tried to pull away from all of their touches.
I wanted to run outside and find air. Love wasn’t real.
Even my dad had wanted to use me for his own games, even if he treated me like I mattered at times.
Love couldn’t exist.
“Think about it, angel. We won’t force you to go up against your uncle,” Knox said in a whisper against my ear as he backed away, pulling Talon with him.
The room quieted and cleared out. My heart didn’t seem to know how to stop thundering away though.
Without the others here it felt different, just Jett and me. Suddenly I didn’t care about what was right, wrong, real, or fake.
I lifted my arms and ran my fingers through his soft blond hair that fell just above his eyebrows, in a way that was intentional.
“Jett? Thank you.”
There was a wrinkle in his brow when he studied me.
“For what?”
I smiled up at him, a true smile.
“For seeing me.”
The way his eyes seemed to grow more intense, I tried to duck out of his reach, but he just held me tighter and pulled me into his body.
“Pretty girl, don’t thank me yet. I’m no better than the devil, greedy to claim what should have always been ours.”
His face was a little closer.
“But, pretty girl, if I couldn’t see you, I couldn’t see how fucking hot you look in these dresses. How about we see how they look pooled around your ankles?”
I tried to push him away, feeling a sudden need to put distance between me and the intense heat roaring to life inside of me.
He held me tighter and I was trapped. Jett leaned in, slow enough I could watch his approach.
Slow enough I knew what this was, and instead of fighting him, I closed my eyes and waited.
He was going to kiss me. I knew he was going to kiss me.
Except when nothing happened, I blinked my eyes open and flinched at how close he was.
“Margaux, did you think I was going to kiss you?”
My jaw dropped without me meaning for it to.
“What? No. I just...” I took a breath and narrowed my eyes at the asshole. “Fine. Whatever. What were you looking for that you had to invade my personal bubble? Hm? ”
He was so close I could smell the mint of his breath and feel every single breath against my lips.
“You’re not really as sweet as you seem, are you?”
There was no room between us for me to even cross my arms over my chest.
“Who ever said I was sweet? I just take care of my things, Margaux.”
His fingers danced along my cheek as he pushed a strand of my hair back behind my ear, and suddenly my lungs forgot to work. I didn’t know why I ever associated sweet with him. More like a troublemaker.
“Pretty girl, I’d gladly taste you. Something tells me your pussy will be the sweetest.”
I shivered when his hand traced over my back. He’d found another scar that had long since healed, a reminder of my uncle.
“This dress won’t work, Margaux.” He traced the scar lightly. “Maybe we will get matching tattoos sometime. Something to cover your pretty little scars. Sometime you should tell me what your uncle did to you. I want stories, and then I’ll help write the ending.”
I didn’t know what to say, not when I was fighting an urge to pull him into me and make me forget every single scar, and not just the physical ones.
“He wanted to break me,” I said as I fell into the intoxication that was Jett. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to touch him. He didn’t push away my hand as I traced my fingers down his neck. I licked my lips against the need to taste him.
“Do you want to break me, pretty boy?”
I flicked my gaze back to his.
“Margaux, breaking you would be too easy. I’d rather see the crazy locked inside of you freed.”
He grabbed my wrists in one hand and lifted them over my head.
“Something tells me blood red is your color.”
My heart pounded away in my chest, running a race I didn’t know I was in.
“Red?”
He didn’t say anything, just studied me. A thought popped into my mind. Me in dresses my uncle would never approve of, letting men he would hate touch me.
“I wonder if my uncle is going crazy right now?” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it put a smile on my face anyway.
When Jett didn’t move, I attempted to push him away.
“Alright, pretty boy. Pick a dress so I can get to this party and be whatever it is you all need.”
He spun me around but didn’t let go. His fingers traced my spine to the zipper of the dress. Slowly he pulled it down, and I shivered at his touch. He backed away, letting me move as I held up the dress in mock modesty. I glanced over my shoulder before retreating into the bathroom.
“And I mean whatever you guys need.” I sighed and finished my thought under my breath. “Which apparently isn’t a friend with benefits.”
I hadn’t meant for that to sound so bitter, but when my heart thudded in my chest, I realized something had changed in me. But what did that mean?
“Wait a minute. No one ever said I didn’t want friends with benefits,” Jett said. He moved faster than I could even remember saying the words aloud.
“But you, Margaux? You’re different. When I kiss you, you’ll beg me for it. You’ll lean into it. You won’t close your eyes like a scared little mouse who’s been cornered. You’ll come to me.”
I should know this game. Men sweet-talked women, but honestly? I’d never been on the receiving end. The men that my uncle kept around, the ones at parties, auctions, high-profile weddings, business networking events, they all assumed if you were a woman you should want them.
He pulled away and smiled. And this time when I took a deep breath, it didn’t ache.
He picked up the red dress, one I’d tried on three outfits ago, and held it up.
“Wear this one. At least we won’t have any issues finding you in the crowd, plus you looked hot. Ronnie might blow his lid, but ignore him.”
I took it from him. “Ronnie?”
“Ronan. He fucking hates it, but I’ve called him Ronnie since we were kids, and he deals with it cause it’s me. Still, he’ll hate this dress because you look fucking gorgeous.” He winked at me, and I shifted to go back into the bathroom.
“Oh and, Margaux, the shopper sent some shoes over. That choice is all up to you babe. My expertise stops at asses and boobs in a dress and what it will look like on my floor.”
I paused.
“What?”
The man could go from immature asshole to extremely tempting in a matter of seconds, all with a simple twist of his lips.
“Where else would you toss it when I undress you?”
My mouth had to have dropped open. I was speechless. Instead of figuring out what to say, I hid the grin behind the red fabric in my arms and ran for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me just to open it a crack.
“Jett, I assumed it would be Ronan's floor first.”
And this time when I slammed it, it stayed closed, but it did nothing to block out the moan I heard from the other side.
I leaned against the door and tried to control whatever was happening with my heart right now.
I slipped the dress on and watched myself in the mirror.
Stand out in a crowd. This was a first. Would they be watching me? Would they keep me from my uncle?
I stepped out of the ensuite looking for Jett. I almost hated disturbing how peaceful he looked laying on his bed, scrolling through his phone. It looked so normal I cleared my throat.
“Jett?” I asked.
“Yes, pretty girl?” he glanced over at me.
“Whatever you do, please don’t let my uncle take me back tonight.”
I had a feeling I could ask any of them and the answer would be the same, but Jett?
He was loyal. Ronan? I couldn’t decide if he was the devil out of the four of them.
He was the most controlled and the most angry.
I let the butterflies in my stomach take over as I got lost in Jett’s ocean eyes as he looked over at me.
They darkened into something scary and inhuman.
Maybe I was wrong about Jett being the most playful of the four, because in that look?
I wondered if maybe they were just the four princes of hell.
He sat up, kicking his legs off the edge of the bed, and studied me for what felt like an eternity. The fluttering butterflies turned into a buzzing of electricity.
He stood up, and with every step I swore my body vibrated. He stopped in front of me, his hands going to my cheeks.
“Your uncle lost you. Even if he tried to cheat, he’s already shown us his hand. The game’s started and we’re the ones setting the rules. Don’t you think?”
I nodded, not sure I heard every word as I watched his mouth. This was serious. I needed to pay attention, but all I could do was look at him and wish that no matter what, he was someone I got to come home to.
That they all were, because their darkness was a life I craved.