The Trinity Masters was, decidedly, not a democracy.
“What should we talk about then, to distract ourselves?” Scarlet asked, because the truth was, despite Tate’s coaching, she was fairly close to cracking under the stress. She’d put a lot of time and effort into planning the most perfect, most elegant New Year’s Eve wedding for these three psychopaths and despite this current abuse, she couldn’t let go of the idea of a dramatic, elegant ceremony, the expensive six-course candlelit dinner with menu items created by a guest chef. At midnight, a mixture of matte gold confetti and white rose petals would fall from the ceiling while everyone kissed… She glanced at Tate and Roman. Either one or—preferably—both of them had been the star of her New Year’s Kiss fantasies.
“Truth or Dare?”
Scarlet and Tate both looked at Roman, who regarded them levelly, as if it were totally normal for an NSA budget analyst to propose that they play a sleepover game.
Scarlet realized she was tapping her foot again in time with the song. Part of her feared the earworm would become permanent, something she’d hear in her head forever. She sat up in the tub. “You know what? I’m in. Why not? This whole thing is already ridiculous.”
“Dares might be a little hard, given our limited space,” Roman said.
But Scarlet had an idea. A very, very dangerous idea.
Maybe it was because her most vivid memory of Truth or Dare had been the time she played it at her friend Veronica’s house, on a night when Veronica’s twin brother, Viktor, was also having a sleepover, making it a coed sleepover.
“Tate, I dare you to take off your shirt,” Scarlet said.
Both men looked at her, and the looks they gave her were intense...the looks predators gave their prey.
“You’re supposed to ask him ‘truth or dare’,” Roman said slowly.
Scarlet let out a noisy sigh. “Tate, truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he said with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine...have you been practicing your ménage sex?”
Tate ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’ve had a few threesomes.”
“Two girls? Two boys? One of each?”
“Ah ah ah, you already asked your question.” Tate waggled his finger at her.
“Oh, we’re going to play it like that, are we?” She shook her head in mock disgust, but her body was warm with burgeoning arousal, and it looked like, seemed like, the guys were also ready to play the game the sexy way.
Not that she’d really doubted that. There had been this underlying sexual attraction between the three of them since the first day they met at headquarters.
“Roman,” Tate said. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
Tate looked back and forth between her and Roman. “I dare you to kiss Scarlet.”
Yes! Yes yes yes.
Scarlet sat up, even as Roman slid off the side of the tub, kneeling on the floor and facing her, his hands braced as he leaned over.
Just before she closed her eyes, Scarlet’s gaze met Tate’s, and in that shared moment, she knew that this would only be the first kiss of the night.
Roman continued to be a surprise, one constant stream of contradictions. He never acted the way she expected, and this kiss was just one more example of that.
He was a fairly staid, serious man, but in this moment, he kissed her with a roughness, a passion, that quite simply took her breath away.
One minute his hands were braced on the side of the bathtub, the next they were tangled in her hair, pulling it just enough to tingle, then burn. He pressed her lips apart, their tongues stroking, tasting.
One of his hands released her hair and he gripped the back of her neck, keeping her lips against his when she started to pull back. Not because she wanted to stop but because she needed air. She was light-headed. And horny.
She was really fucking horny.
Roman gave no sign of being even close to finished. Until Tate cleared his throat.
“Am I going to get a chance to play?”
Scarlet shot him a glance, grinning wickedly. “You’re the one who picked ‘truth’.”
Tate narrowed his eyes. “Ask me again.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s my turn to be asked.”
Roman chuckled. “Fine. Truth or dare, Scarlet.”
Scarlet grinned as she winked at Tate. He started to move closer, ready to accept whatever dare Roman might issue. If only he knew her well enough to know she always got even. “Truth,” she said.
Tate leaned back against the toilet tank, not bothering to restrain the growl that escaped. The first thing she’d noticed about Tate when they’d been introduced was the size of his arms. The man was seriously built. The second thing she’d noticed had been his sexy, deep, smooth as silk voice. She was fairly certain Tate could actually “talk” her to an orgasm without having to lay a single finger on her. Normally the sexiness of that voice was offset, somewhat, by his playful personality. She wanted to hear that voice when he was so turned on that he was near the edge of his own control.
The idea of Tate losing control, his hands rough, big arms flexing as he pushed her down over the bed, where Roman would be waiting to grab her, hold her down…
Roman crossed his arms, giving her a sinfully wicked smile that told her she would have been smarter to choose a dare.
“When you fantasize about the two of us fucking you, who’s where?”
Scarlet didn’t even bother to demur. “Tate is fucking me while I give you a blow job. But that’s only after both of you have gone down on me and given me a few dozen orgasms.”
Roman arched a brow and grinned, but Tate didn’t even crack a smile. “Someone dare me to go down on Scarlet. Right now.”
“We should start with undressing,” Roman said primly, but he was reaching for her.
“Do it,” Scarlet said, her hand already in Roman’s as he pulled her up to help her out of the bathtub. None
