We have that in common.
Truth be told, we have a lot in common.
And Shiloh? When I look at her, at the wariness on her face, I suddenly want to give her new memories to overshadow the old ones. The bad ones. My heart gives an uncomfortable thud, and the sensation only gets stronger when I shift my attention back to Broderick. He watches me with a contemplative expression on his handsome face. Serious. Oh, so serious. Was he born that way, or did it happen after his mother died and he was forced to share the parental load of raising his five younger brothers? I bet it was the latter.
Oh fuck, I’m in trouble.
I grab my drink and take a long pull. Another time, I’ll ask Broderick how he knew I like Old Fashions. Right now, I’m hunting larger game. “Some ground rules before we begin. There are both penalties for lying and for taking a dare and then backing out.”
“Of course there are,” Broderick says. A small smile pulls at the edges of his lips, a true smile. “What penalty?”
“Sleeping on the couch for a week, with no Monroe-induced orgasms.”
He snorts. “Who says that’s a deterrent?”
“Me.” I bump my head against his shoulder. “Both of you were having excellent orgasms last night because of me. Don’t try to pretend you’re not counting down the hours until you’re inside me again.” I nudge Shiloh with my knee. “And don’t lie and say you want to do anything but come all over my face again.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Okay, fine. Let’s play.”
It’s cute how she’s trying to be so cranky, as if I can’t see the anticipation licking through her the same way I’m dying to. I smile at her, letting lust seep into my eyes. “You’re up first, love. Truth or dare?”
She glances over my shoulder at Broderick, and her face goes pink. “Dare.”
Smart girl.
The second she picks truth, I’m going to ask her if she wants to fuck Broderick. She knows it, too, so I wager Shiloh will go dare every time. “Let’s start nice and slow.” I tap my fingers against my glass. “Shiloh, I dare you to kiss me.”
Her sigh of relief is audible enough that it almost makes me laugh. This woman has obviously never been properly seduced before. It’s important to ease a person into it, not to shove them off the cliff. It took me three weeks to work us up to a kiss. I’m not about to throw away my first dare by having her jump on Broderick’s cock.
By the time he fucks her, she’s going to be begging for it.
Shiloh leans forward and cups my face with one hand. She’s got calluses, evidence of the weapons training she leaves me to do a few times a week. Her lips are soft as she presses them to mine. My girl might seem sweet, but she wastes no time slipping her tongue into my mouth and kissing me properly.
It lasts long enough that Broderick clears his throat. When Shiloh sits back, she’s flushing, and I ache for more. Patience. I can be patient. I lick my lips. “Your turn.”
Shiloh turns hazel eyes on Broderick. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” There’s an edge to his tone, a dare all its own.
She gives a small smile, but there’s an edge of cruelty to it. “Do you enjoy how you are with Monroe?”
He goes rigid behind me. “I don’t understand the question.”
“I think you do.” Shiloh takes a small drink of her beer. “You are so careful with everyone else around you—with me. With Monroe, you’re different than I’ve ever seen you. Harder. Meaner. You…” She looks away. “You fucked her like you were mad at her. Did you enjoy it?”
I don’t mean to hold my breath. I really don’t. Obviously Broderick likes how he is with me, even if it torments him at the same time, challenges the role he’s stepped into. The good man. The caretaker. There’s no room in that role for cruelty, and yet he’s cruel to me, especially when it comes to sex.
He finally curses. “Yes. I enjoy the way we fuck. Yeah, I enjoy the way I am with Monroe.” Broderick snags his glass and takes a long drink from it. He speaks before I can process how I feel about his admission. “Truth or dare, Shiloh.”
“What?” She blinks. “It’s Monroe’s turn.”
It’s an effort to keep my body relaxed. I might have started this game, but it’s rapidly slipping beyond my control. Maybe that should concern me, but there’s something magical brewing between the three of us. It’s hot and sticky and oh so dangerous. I want to see what happens when this powder keg explodes. I wave a lazy hand through the air. “The previous person can choose whomever they like.”
She narrows her eyes but finally says, “Dare.”
“Take off your pants.”
I cough. I can’t help it. I didn’t expect him to go for it so hard, to ask something that seems so simple on the surface but is anything but. “Broderick—”
“No one is coming through that door.” His voice is low and ruthless. “It’s just us. Either you trust us, or you don’t. Either you trust me, or you don’t.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I’m not interested in being fair.” This is the man I met on Lammas, the one I’ve provoked time and time again. The targeted determination curls my toes. Broderick shifts, draping his arms over the back of the booth. The new position has me tucked against his side, and once again it feels like it’s us versus Shiloh.
Like we’re aligned.
She hesitates but finally curses and fights her way out of her jeans. Broderick studies his drink instead of her newly revealed legs—newly revealed scars—but I look my fill. I have no business being so turned on by black cotton
