Movement beyond it catches my attention, and my eyes lock with yet another shade of blue.
The buff, teddy bear of a guy smirks, cocking his head at me, but then the other answers my question.
“My name is Silver.”
My gaze snaps back with my head. “Wait, seriously? Your name is Silver? What kind of Harry Potter shit is that?”
A low chuckle from behind the fire sounds, and I briefly meet those blue eyes again, but quickly pull them back to Silver.
Silver smiles, and it’s a nice smile, flirty and smoothe. “If Harry Potter had a ten-inch cock.”
I don’t bother to hide my grin. “It was Draco for me.”
“Fan of the twisted then?”
“What can I say?” My head tilts as I allow myself to take in what he’s wearing. Casual jeans, Jordans, and a clean white tee. “The dark is where I hide.”
Those lips stretch higher, and I reach up to tuck my hair behind my ears to keep myself from reaching out and touching him like I did Creed.
Jesus, I’m a needy bitch tonight.
Silver’s eyes zero in on the bandage around my palm and he frowns. “What’s this?”
I shrug, waving it in front of him. “Ah, that would be what happens when I get distracted. Couple small cuts from a rock yesterday. No biggie.”
Suddenly, he flashes forward, taking my wrist, and I wince at the heat that shoots through my palm when his flattens against it.
I yank from his grasp and he lifts his hands into the air in surrender.
“What the hell?” I glare. “I said I was cut.”
“Nah, I don’t think you are.”
My head tugs back. “Excuse me?”
Silver fights a grin, and I have no fucking clue why he and blue eyes share a laugh.
“I’m sorry, do you know me? Follow me around and watch my every move? Can you see through cloth and sports tape?” I snap. “I’m pretty fucking sure I’m cut.”
“Nah,” he says again, almost as if in challenge.
Growling, I shake my head and tear at my shitty bandage job. Poor Ben did his best with what we had at home, but his hands are big and mine small, so it’s a mess. “I don’t know why I’m entertaining you, but it must be because you’re stupid hot and that Fae shit I took—”
“What did you say?” He’s in my face again, eyes flicking between mine.
“You’re hot?”
He shakes his head.
“…that I drank some Fae shit?” I frown. “I mean, I can pay for it if it’s an issue. I don’t expect to ride for free, but it was sitting there so I figured it was fair game.” I already feel lighter on my feet, so I think it’s setting in. I’m not exactly sure what it’s supposed to do, but my skin feels warm and those beer goggles are coming out, not that I need them. Every person I’ve laid eyes on so far tonight is a rare kind of fine.
“Sitting where?” he whispers, his silver gaze gauging my every move.
“On the counter with the rest of the foreign bottles of alcohol. I thought it was a prop, you know, to go with the Freaky Friday theme going on.”
Silver’s brows snap together, his lips tightening, and I use this moment to lift my now exposed hand, wiggling my fingers in his face.
A hint of a grin twitches along the corner of his mouth before he strides off and I shake my head, wondering how I’m going to wrap my hand back up now that I tore the —
Wait.
I pull my palm closer, frowning at the skin there. The perfect intact, not even a scratch in sight skin.
Huh. I guess Ben did a better job than I thought.
Neosporin for the win!
Slowly, I step up to the fire, admiring the wicked flicker of the flames that flash from red to blue and hold my hands above it. I close my eyes, and before I realize I’m doing it, my hips begin to sway, the music suddenly matching the beat in my chest.
With my sight blocked, my skin grows warmer by the second and the sensual rhythm rolls through my ears. I lose myself, giving my body and mind over to whatever the hell flows through my system.
I’m a fucking victim of my own making, and I’m dying for someone to make me theirs for the night.
As if my naughty prayers reach beyond reason, a strong body presses at my back. Arms snake around my waist, tightening as I sink into their form, craving more.
I lift mine, wrapping them around the person’s neck behind me, and I’m rewarded with a low groan that sends a shiver down my spine. I try to turn, but he holds me still, dipping his head into my neck. I gasp at the razor-sharp swipe of his tongue against my flesh.
“So fucking sweet,” he rasps, nipping at my ear. “Not that I forgot…”
My muscles lock, my heart rate spiking, and finally, his hold eases enough for me to spin. How? How do I not care about anything but him at this moment? Probably because I want to get laid, and if I had to take a pick, I’d rather the hot stranger I find myself wanting to kiss. Men are allowed to be vocal about their sexual appetite. I have no shame in announcing mine. I know what I want and what I don’t want, and I have no problem vocalizing that.
I nearly lose my balance when my eyes lock with my new favorite color.
“Knight,” I whisper, struggling to catch my breath with every passing second.
His turquoise gaze glitters with mirth, yet it does nothing to hide the savage swimming within them. “London.”
His left arm comes around me once more, his right coming up so he can tease me with his fingertips, drawing goose bumps on my flesh along the path he traces from my bicep to my neck. When the pad of his thumb brushes along my lower lip, my tongue flicks out for a tiny taste.
Knight groans and we begin to sway again.
“Like this dress, babe.” He bends a little until the hem is in his hands, and he bunches it, dragging it up higher and higher until the chilled air sweeps across my exposed ass, my thong doing nothing to hide me from anyone who cares to look. I like my body, so I don’t give a shit who sees. Besides, there’s a naked chick hanging in the air, spread eagle. I’m fine…and my pussy is prettier than hers anyway, so people can look all they want.
“I’d like it more on my bedroom floor, though.” Both of Knight’s hands find my ass now, and he squeezes, pulling me closer, grinding me against him. “I bet you look good splayed open on black satin. We would go all night.”
We.
He and I. Since when?
“Feel what you’ve done to me?” he rasps, grinding his hard cock against me.
I nod, unable to speak as I wrap my hands around his neck, dying to get closer. The room swirls into a bunch of colors as the ache in my belly intensifies. I need something. Anything. Well, not anything. Sexually driven doesn’t mean easy.
Knight hugs me back, his lips pressing to my temple. “Someone’s a cuddler, is she? I like to cuddle too. It makes it so easy to slide back in. Do you want me to slide in you? I could do it right here if you want.” I don’t even bother to catch his words, unable to hear them as I grind myself against him.
Suddenly, a second set of hands find my hips and my lungs expand as I peek over my shoulder, finding we’ve rotated around the fire, and the blue-eyed boy who was behind it is still there, sitting, his hands larger than his brother’s, fingers sprawling along my ribs.