Chapter 16
EYES ON US
Ivy
His eyes glimmer darkly. His jaw is set hard. He smells like lust and power.
A prickle of fear slides down my spine from the way he stares at me with such possession. I feel like borderline prey. And the strange thing—the new thing—is I like it.
“Take it,” I whisper.
Let him figure out that I want him to punish my mouth. To claim my kiss.
He reads my wish, yanking me flush against him. He’s not soft or sweet. He’s not tender or gentle. There’s something almost mean in his eyes, and it makes my heart beat faster.
My gaze slides briefly to the door, looking, wondering if Stefan’s coming back. But I stop wondering when Hayes grabs my face firmly then ropes his other arm around my waist and grabs my ass. I gasp, but he shuts me up with one hard kiss. I stop thinking about the other guy.
Hayes’s lips crush mine. They’re demanding, determined, and I’m all too pliant under his touch.
His kiss is rough and greedy. A man with hard edges. He backs me up against the wall by the door. This is where I want to be. Pinned by him, like I was that day in the equipment room, when he gave me a hint of what he’d be like.
In charge.
Is that what I’ve been craving all along? Someone who kisses my mouth ruthlessly? Someone who grips my face like this? Someone who treats my body like it’s his to play with?
This isn’t how you kiss the bride. This is how you kiss a woman you want to pin down, tie up, and fuck.
There’s just one more thing I want…
I look to the door again, but my brain goes blurry as Hayes devours my mouth mercilessly, his strong arms keeping me in place, his stubble likely leaving whisker burn.
I can’t move, and I don’t want to. Not as his tongue plunders my mouth.
Not as he lets go of his grip on my ass to wander a hand up my body.
Not as the creak of a door oh-so-faintly registers in my mind.
Hayes dives in and delivers more carnal kisses until we’re panting and gasping for air.
I’m so aroused I can barely think about the sound of the lock slipping into place.
But somewhere in my mind, a voice tells me to pay attention.
My eyes float open, and I feel like a bunny spotted by a wolf in the woods at night. My pulse soars as my gaze locks with Stefan’s. His blue eyes aren’t icy now. They’re fire. His lips part as he stares at me.
This is what I want.
“I dropped my key card for my room,” Stefan says, but there’s no apology or shame in his voice.
Hayes barely pulls back from me. “How convenient,” he deadpans against the skin of my neck as Stefan strolls down the aisle, turning away from me.
Is that all Stefan’s here for? He’s not even looking at me as Hayes dives back in, kissing my neck more, dragging his scruffy jaw against my skin deliciously.
My pulse rockets with unchecked need as I watch Stefan walk—the cut of his shoulders in his dress shirt that stretches across his broad back, the shape of his ass, strong, rounded, and so damn muscular it should be illegal.
Most of all, his attitude.
Like it’s no big deal to walk in on us. Desire coils in my chest, travels down my belly, then settles between my thighs in a sweet ache. Even as Hayes slides a hand down my arm, I’m watching Stefan while he grabs his card from the floor and turns around.
The smile he sends me is pure gamesmanship.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Stefan remarks with a casual shrug. “I’m here for the show.”
My breath hitches. Yes. Yes. Fucking yes.
A wicked light shines in Hayes’s eyes. “You want that, Ivy? You want to give him a show?” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
I’m afraid to speak. Afraid if I use words this wild, daring moment will crumble. I just nod.
But that’s not enough for Hayes. He grabs me tighter, rougher. He likes to manhandle me, and I think I love it. “Say it, or I’ll tell him to get the fuck out.”
His command thrills me. I want to obey.
“Watch us.” Locking eyes with Stefan once again, I add, “Watch me.”
He grabs a chair from the altar, spins it around and straddles it, parking his elbows on the back, his gaze rolling over me like a heat wave. He flicks a hand at his friend. “Kiss her again, Hayes.”
Holy shit. He’s telling Hayes what to do. A crackle of electricity roars through me. But Hayes doesn’t kiss me. He regards me with firm, clear eyes. “Are you drunk?”
Only on the heady feeling of the two of them. I shake my head. “Not even tipsy.” I married him on a dare, not a drink. My buzz has faded. “You?”
“Same,” he says, then runs his knuckles against my cheek. “You want this?”
Like I’ve never wanted anything before. But I learned all sorts of things about myself as they’ve circled me this past week. And now, tonight as they’ve cornered me.
I’ve learned I like to play too.
With a tease of a smile, I say, “Find out.”
He slides his hand down my cheek, over my jaw, curling his palm against my throat. He’s not grabbing me. But he is holding me firmly.
He draws a deep breath, cranes his neck to the door where Elvis walked out, then turns back, his eyes roaming up and down me. “There’s another wedding in five minutes,” he says, and it’s not an equivocation. It’s the stakes.
“Better get on with it, Hayes,” Stefan says, all laid-back and casual. “The woman needs to come, and she needs to come fast.”
Letting go of my neck, Hayes sets to work, tugs up the fabric of my skirt, then slides a hand across the panel of my panties. My hips tilt. I need more. The look on his handsome face is pure devil. “But you’re so wet, I bet it won’t even take me that long.”
“You’re confident,” I taunt, but I’m at the mercy of his touch and he knows it. I’m at the mercy of their words.
“You testing us?” Hayes demands as he pinches my clit.
Us. I get wetter as he says that. “Yes,” I say, my voice wobbly from the sharp sting of pleasure.
“Put her hands up against the wall,” Stefan commands from several feet away.
I don’t even know how I’m standing, especially when Hayes says to Stefan, “Why don’t you do it?”
I’m giddy with anticipation as Stefan rises, heads over to me, grabs my hands, and lifts them over my head.
Gripping my wrists together, he presses them to the wood behind me.
In a chapel, after midnight, in the city of sin, he puts me in position to be finger fucked by his friend.
But Hayes doesn’t slide a hand into my panties right away.
Instead, he grazes the side of my neck with his fingers, then coasts them over my throat, then travels to the top of my breasts.
Hayes has less than five minutes, but he’s taking his sweet-ass time while Stefan gently pushes waves of hair from my neck and whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart.
He’ll get you there.” Stefan dusts a feather-light kiss to the shell of my ear before he lets go of my hands.
“Just keep her hands up, Hayes. I need a better view.”
While Hayes takes over, Stefan retreats to his chair, straddling it once more. My brain is scrambling, and I’m breathing hard as Hayes pins my wrists with one hand and uses the other to travel down my chest again, palming one breast this time.
With a glint in his eyes, he flicks the barbell through the fabric of my dress.
I moan. Or maybe I’m babbling. Whatever noises I can make, I’m making them as he pinches my piercing, his smile so full of swagger and something else too—a dirty kind of joy. Like a man opening a naughty gift left under the tree at Christmas.
“Bet her panties are soaked now,” Stefan says with filthy delight.
“I should check,” Hayes remarks, offhand, then slides thick, confident fingers into my panties and across my slickness. I groan, arching into him.
“She’s so fucking turned on,” Hayes tells his friend as he strokes my wet pussy.
With a salacious moan, I arch my back, rock into his hand.
“Do more of that,” Stefan urges Hayes. “She likes it.”
“Because she loves being watched,” Hayes says, and I feel unlocked.
“I do,” I say, closing my eyes as pleasure crashes over me.
“Nope,” Stefan orders. “Eyes on us.”
A shudder rolls through me as I open my eyes. I’m unsure where to look. Hayes? Stefan? I don’t know what to do with this assault of pleasure. It’s slamming into me everywhere. My mind, my body.
Hayes strokes me and I’m so slick, so close. My nerve endings fray and I’m dying for release. “Yes, that’s it. You’ve hit the spot,” Stefan says.
“You think so?”
“She’s a fucking mess. It’s beautiful. You want to come, sweetheart?” Stefan asks me.
“Yes,” I beg.
“Hayes, finish her.”
Hayes cocks his head, regards me like he’s just not sure he’s going to follow the captain’s orders. “Not until you show me how well you take direction, Ivy.”
Eager to please, desperate to come, I ask, “What do you want me to do?”
Hayes stares at my mouth, lips quirked in a cocky grin as he fucks me with his fingers till I’m panting again. He lets go of my wrists, grabs the end of his tie, and raises it to my mouth. “Bite down on this.”
He shoves the silk between my lips all while he strokes my clit.
“Now, shut the fuck up and come like a good dirty girl,” he says.
I bite down. The pleasure is so intense I’m afraid I can’t keep my eyes open, but I want to watch…Stefan. His hands are curled around the back of the chair, his knuckles white, and his gaze locked on me. “That’s right, sweetheart. Eyes on me when you come,” Stefan says.
Hayes strokes faster, and I can’t speak. I can only scream silently against the fabric, rocking into his talented hand, seeing stars as an orgasm seizes my body.
When my knees buckle, my temporary husband catches me, holds me steady, then gently takes the tie from my mouth. I tremble in his arms for long, delirious seconds, my world still spiraling away.
When at last I can focus, Hayes says, “To answer your question…I like your lipstick.”
The man I married presses a tender kiss to my mouth. When he breaks it, he glances down at me. I’m a mess—the skirt of my dress hiked up, panties twisted, hair likely wild.
And my world’s been upended by two men. But when I look around for the other one, he’s gone.