He looks up, and the bastard winks at me. The back of my head hits the wall, and my hands fist tighter in his hair as I rock forward and come down his throat. He swallows every last fucking drop, and I’m still gasping when he stands and presses his forehead against mine.
“It’s so fucking hot when you get on your knees for me.”
He pulls my pants up and refastens them, then kisses the three prongs of the trident tattoo on my chest. “You and Zeke are the only men I’d ever get on my knees for. You know that, right?”
I place my palms on either side of his handsome face. “I know. It’s the same for me.” As much as I enjoy making him jealous, he knows he has nothing to worry about. He and Zeke are it for me, and now Lily too. I’m happy to go the rest of my life fucking, and being fucked by, nobody but the three of them.
Grabbing my hands, he kisses the insides of both my wrists. “You want to come to bed and watch some trashy TV?”
My knees nearly buckle at the amount of love that rushes through me, but I force myself to stand up straight and grin. “Can we bring snacks, because I’m fucking starving?”
He chuckles. “You go get cleaned up. I’ll get the snacks.”
Chapter
Thirty-Two
LILY
I step out of the elevator and into the private parking garage full of the most expensive, high-end cars and motorcycles I’ve ever seen in my life. My heart races faster than the Ducati I pass, and I brush my fingers over its supple leather seat.
Sucking in a lungful of cool air, I head for the highlighter-yellow Lamborghini. I can’t help but smile as I trail my hand along the hood. This must be Xander’s.
The sound of the elevator going back up has my stomach rolling. My pulse thunders against my pressure points. How the hell do they know I’m down here already? Glancing around, I scout for a good place to hide, but the garage is a massive square. And to make it worse, the entire room is lit by bright fluorescent lighting. Could I have picked a worse place to run to?
With my blood thundering in my ears and my legs propelled by fear and adrenaline, I jog over to the line of cars farthest from the elevator and crouch behind the one at the very back. I lock my eyes on the shiny silver doors, my heart fluttering in my throat while I wait for them to open. The elevator only has three stops: the penthouse, the lobby, and here. A red L appears in the small window above the elevator, and I swallow a thick knot of fear and excitement.
He’s almost here.
I tell myself that it might just be Xander coming down here to hide with me, but my body trembles and fear becomes my dominant emotion.
The elevator pings.
My heart hammers uncontrollably.
The doors open.
Blood screams in my ears.
Zeke steps out with a wicked smile on his face.
I almost fall on my ass.
“I know you’re in here, buttercup,” he sing-songs, and it’s one of the most frightening sounds I’ve ever heard in my life. Do I want to play this game to its end?
Marshmallow. That’s all I need to say, and this will all be over.
So, why don’t I say it? Why do I stay right here with my lips pressed tightly shut and my hand over my mouth, waiting for Zeke to find me?
Chapter
Thirty-Three
ZEKE
I know she’s down here. I can fucking smell her. Her fear. Her arousal. I lick my lips and taste her in the air.
I step further into the brightly lit garage, seeking a glimpse of her. “Come out and I might make it easier on you.”
Silence.
She’s good at this. The first time I hunted Xander, he gave himself up because he couldn’t stand the terror of waiting for me to find him. He said it was better to face the consequences than think about what they might be.
My fingers curl around the worn leather of my switchblade. I never would have gotten it from my room if I’d known I’d be chasing Lily instead of Xander. But now I have it, and she’s in here somewhere. Pure adrenaline thunders through my veins, making my cock throb as well as my temples. There’s no stopping this thing now. Not unless she says her safe word.
Walking along the center of the garage, I glance up and down the rows of cars. “Where are you, buttercup?” I tilt my head, straining to hear some sound from her. Her breathing or maybe a movement, but there’s not a peep. She really is good at this. I pass by the silver Porsche and smile. But not good enough. Part of her sneaker is reflected in the rim of the 911 Turbo.
My heart rate slows, and I close my eyes for a second, savoring the moment before I let her know she’s beat. My chest tightens and my balls draw up as I round the black SUV she’s crouching behind. I figure I have one more second until she realizes I’m onto her and runs. I want her to run. I want her to fight too.