Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
The slow drag of a zipper echoes in the dim locker room.
My fingertips buzz before my brain catches up. My brain is the slowest part of me tonight.
Leif moves faster than I’ve ever seen him move. One second there’s air between us and the next his hand is at the base of my throat, not gripping, just resting his thumb against my pulse like he’s taking a reading. His lips hover. And his eyes.
“Your…”
He doesn’t lunge for the kiss. He arrives at it by closing that last inch slowly. He waits for me to meet him and when I do, when he knows I’m in it just as much as him, then he kills that last inch.
His lips are softer than I expected. Pillowy. Distracting, and somehow not enough. He tastes like dessert, like the cooked icing my mother used to whip from scratch before she stopped making birthdays, and my whole mouth floods.
I knew he smelled like icing, but knowing he tastes like icing… I simply can’t get enough.
My hands fist in his suit. However I got here, whatever this is, I want him. I’ve fantasized about kissing Leif Dagon more times than I’ll ever admit.
What it would feel like to kiss Leif Dagon.
To make him moan.
To hear him and know I own his pleasure.
One night. One long, world-ending night, and then I shelve it somewhere I can take it out later. If that’s all I get, why the hell wouldn’t I take it.
I already know tonight changes everything. So for the first time in my life I stop bracing against the change and lean into it.
And hope like hell Callie forgives me.
Then he gifts me what I crave. He moans into my mouth, low and sexy, and I catch it.
The sound. Swallow it down. It leaves me nothing but thirsty for the next one.
My hands climb to his jaw, running over the scratchy stubble.
I push up onto my toes, pressing as close as I can get, balance be damned.
Feeling him is the only thing my body will hold a thought about.
Cool air spills across my back. The zipper finishes its slow descent and my dress drops, sliding off my hips to pool on the dirty tile.
I don’t care. The two-thousand-dollar dress I saved a year for, on the floor of a locker room, and I can’t be bothered.
Leif pulls back just enough to suck on my bottom lip, he releases it wet and stinging with a soft pop. His mouth gleams. I lean in to steal another kiss, and he’s already gone, just out of reach, those blue eyes swirling, little crystals turning in the iris.
The words spill before I can stop them. “Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to fuck me?”
It doesn’t feel like me saying it. Not the old me. But I mean every word.
A finger traces down my spine. My back arches, my vision goes soft at the edges, and a moan slips out before I can decide whether to allow it.
“Sensitive here.” Enzo’s voice rumbles from behind me. He smells like black pepper and smoke from a campfire in the summer.
Two men. Two flavors. Dessert in front of me, smoke at my back, and my mouth waters for both at once.
“Shh.” Leif eases me backward into Enzo, and Enzo catches me, both arms folding around me, holding me like I’m something he’s been told not to drop.
At our feet Davi gathers my ruined dress and lays it over a bench, careful with it in a way none of us have been. Then he strips his shirt off in one pull.
Oh. That was hiding under there. Golden skin, cut lean, a dusting of dark hair down the center of him. In a line I want to follow with my tongue.
He looks at me like he means to eat me slowly. Then his eyes cut to Leif before he crosses the room to him.
The shock of it rolls through me as Davi leans in and kisses my boss.
It’s strange to watch. Strange, and obscene, and I feel like I’ve walked in on something I wasn’t meant to see, like I’m the new hire at a party where everyone else has years of history.
Enzo erases the thought. He sweeps my hair off one shoulder and sets his mouth to my neck, he presses soft kisses up the line of my neck, and my head drops onto his shoulder so I can keep watching.
Davi and Leif kiss like they’re starving for each other.
Davi runs his fingers through Leif’s hair, mussing up the perfect strands. Leif’s own run over Davi everywhere at once. As though he can’t not touch him. Their tongues meet in the open air between mouths and Leif’s hand finds Davi through his jeans, the ones he never buttoned, and grips.
The sounds they make. Gods, the sounds.
Each one lands low inside of me, a pulse straight to my clit. I could get off on this alone. The watching.
“This turns you on,” Enzo says against my throat.
“Yeah.” I half choke on the word. I’m fairly sure I’m drooling.
“How wet are you, Hadley?” His hands skim up over my ribs, sliding my bra loose and dropping it somewhere. His knuckles graze the undersides of my breasts, and they go heavy at the touch, nipples drawing tight, demanding more without a word from me.
Soaked. I don’t say it. My heart rate answers for me. And the wicked need inside me wonders if he’s going to find out just how wet I actually am.
His palms glide down, slow, splayed wide, then his fingers toy at the crease of my hip where my panties used to be.
“How wet?” he asks again, just as Leif drops to one knee in front of Davi and drags his tongue up the length of him.
Oh, oh that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
“Why don’t you find out?” I push my ass back into him, daring him to do something about the ache, the one nothing fixes but a cock buried to the root.
Enzo huffs a laugh against my ear. One forearm bands across my hips and holds me to him, and the other hand slides down through the slick mess he made of me, fingers parting me, two of them pressing in deep and slow while the heel of his palm rides my clit.
“This soaked already.” He works his fingers inside me, unhurried and maddening. Two fingers slide back and forth over my clit. “Watching them kiss each other.”
I am. Because in front of me Leif slowly pushes Davi to the cold locker room floor. Davi unzips Leif’s pants and without a moment of hesitation he drinks my boss’s cock down like it’s the sweetest thing he’s tasted all year.
This time the moan is mine.
Enzo’s free hand closes over my breast, thumb rolling my nipple in time with the fingers inside me. My hips chase his hand, shameless, because arousal with nowhere to go is just masochism.
I am not a masochist. Not tonight at least.
Leif’s fingers fist in Davi’s hair, guiding him, and I drag my eyes up the long line of my boss’s body to his face. The face I’ve watched across two years of meetings and breakroom small talk, finally coming apart, finally letting go.
And then I see it. His face.
“What…”
Enzo works a third finger into me and the question dissolves into the thick stretch of him filling me, in and out, the wet sound of it obscene in the quiet.
Davi pulls off Leif’s cock with a gasp, mouth wet, eyes glassy, drunk on it. He looks up at him as though he’s the only one in this world worth living for.
And for a small moment I wonder what that feels like. To worship someone so much that the word love is a pale comparison for the way Davi looks at Leif.
Leif steps back and turns to me. Those light eyes watch me and for the first time I see lust in his gaze at me. Desire. Need. All of it sends pleasure coursing through my body. He walks toward me slowly and I am looking right at him, right at what I saw a second ago and lost.
The fangs.
“Oh, those are good.” I tilt my head, genuinely impressed, the way I’d admire a donor’s watch before talking him out of his money. “Custom, right? They have to be custom. The drugstore ones never sit right on the lateral incisor.”
Behind me Enzo goes still. His mouth pressing kisses at my throat, just stops. His breath ghosts across the sensitive skin. My pulse climbs to meet it, slamming against the thin skin like it wants to be found. He waits. Lets the gap between my hammering heart and his still one stretch.
Leif doesn’t answer the question. He just lets me look, the way you let a child finish a theory about where rain comes from.
“Fangs,” he says finally. Two long canines press into his lower lip, white and wrong and real. Like the word is supposed to do something.
It doesn’t do the thing.
“Mm-hm. Very committed. I respect the bit, I really do.”
“She thinks you’re playing,” Davi says it to Leif, not to me. There’s something almost gentle in it.
“I think you’re the most beautiful collective psychotic break I’ve ever had against a locker,” I correct. “There’s a difference. I’m being generous.”
“Generous.” Davi’s mouth tips. “She’s calling it generous.”
“Some women would’ve left. I’m staying. Through the fangs, through the…” I wave a hand at all of it, the suit, the swirling eyes, the teeth. “Theater. That’s generosity. That’s me being a very good sport about a very elaborate kink.”
And all through the conversation Enzo’s fingers never stop. Never slowing and never speeding up. The pace is almost maddening.
“Come for us, Hadley,” Leif says into the middle of my unraveling.
The sting comes a few moments later. Then the pleasure, so much of it the word gives out and goes home. Enzo’s mouth seals over the wound and my knees forget their job entirely.
When I come, it tears out of me. My body answering to his order, and through the whole thing Enzo keeps fucking me with his fingers, my own arousal loud enough to embarrass a less ruined woman.
“Vampires, Hadley.” Davi says watching me carefully. “They can’t tell you, but I can.”
“Sure.” I’m still coming down, generous with everything right now, including their delusion. “And the museum’s haunted and the gift shop’s a portal. I’ll play.”
“Hadley.” Davi steps closer, and for a second the teasing drops clean out of his voice. “We’re not being good sports back. You understand that? This isn’t the part where you find out it was a prank.”
“It’s always the part where it’s a prank.”