27. Ember
EMBER
This has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. But I don’t care.
I fully admit that I’m in thrall to my hormones right now, but Zeb has convinced me: I need to stop fantasizing about these men and screw their brains out. Hopefully, that will get them out of my system, at least long enough for me to find another place to live.
When we arrive home, Griffin offers me a drink, but I decline. Though I ordered a strong cocktail at the bar, I only drank half of it. I’m feeling a soft buzz, which could be the alcohol, or the desire that’s coursing through my veins.
In any case, I want to be clear-headed enough to remember every moment of tonight.
My three housemates, however, each down a shot of something strong, and it gives me pause.
“Have you ever done this before—shared a woman?” I ask the room.
Their eyes dart around as they go still. “No,” Griffin says as Zeb shakes his head.
I take in their body language, which is a strange mix of restlessness and caution. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?”
Frank sets his empty glass on the coffee table. “This is all about your comfort, Ember.”
Suddenly, I’m aware of the size of these men, and their proximity. I’ve gotten used to both of those things, to a degree, but right now, I feel like a lamb among wolves, or maybe a cupcake being eyed by three giants.
I get the sense that I’m about to be reduced to crumbs, and I’m more than okay with that.
Zeb sinks down onto the couch, grabbing my hand as he sits. “C’mere.” He leads me onto his lap, where I position myself sideways on his knee.
When he cups my face in his big hand and looks into my eyes, a flurry of butterflies are released in my belly. To be this close to him, knowing what’s about to happen next, has me dizzy.
He pulls my head toward his, meeting me halfway, claiming my mouth in a way that’s hungry and possessive and incredibly delicious. He wastes no time getting right to the point, communicating how much he wants me with every twist of his lips and touch of his tongue. His mouth is rich with whiskey and lust, and I can’t get enough.
Though I have no idea how this is all going to work with three of them, especially since they’ve never been together with one woman, all of that is momentarily forgotten as Zeb becomes the only person in the world.
His hands roam my back—no, roam isn’t the right word. He explores me, staking claim to each inch he discovers, and he sets me on fire as effectively as a can of gasoline and a match to kindling.
Overwhelmed with need, I shift to straddle his thighs and find a steel rod beneath his jeans. When I can’t help but grind down on him, his voice rumbles against my cheek. “Ready to ride?”
Biting my lip, I nod.