“Where?” He can barely form the word. Perfect. Exactly how I need him.
With as innocent a smile as I can simulate, I grab his hand like a good girlfriend and guide him up the stairs to the president’s domain.
This time, when I push open the doors, Aiden’s sprawled in a mid-nineteenth-century crushed-velvet wingback by the fire. One silk-clad leg crosses over the other, a double of something amber dangling from his fingers. His ebony mask shadows half his face while his dogs laze around him—one massaging his shoulders, another stroking his hair, the third kneeling between his legs as he pats her head absently, like a prized poodle.
The moment I step inside, he notes my position with a scowl, his lush lips tightening into a thin line. Chest rising, shoulders taut, eyes fixed on mine.
Above the skeleton key inked on his pec, I catch his initials. AIC.
Asshole-In-Charge.
Other than that, he’s frozen. An ice god ready to unleash a blizzard of fury.
Exactly as expected.
Shifting into my ruse, I whisper a ginger touch down Talon’s chest, my fingers gliding along his knock-off suit jacket until it slips from his shoulders. With deliberate flourish, I toss my hair back, watching Aiden study me. Then I lace my fingers through Talon’s tattooed ones and guide him to the bed.
It’s not empty.
OneThetafucks another brother in the ass. The bottom boy’s tongue is buried in aSigmasitting on his face. Her mouth is full of a third guy’s dick as he stands on the mattress next tothe three. He leans over to kiss the first man, their grunts and moans ricocheting off the canopy above.
Talon fumbles to gather my waist, sloppy and unfocused, but manages to hug me and tug down my zipper. “Where’re the girls?” he whispers as he presses his lips to my shoulder.
When I step out of my short dress, all that’s left is a black garter belt and an open-cup bra. I face him, hands grazing his squared shoulders as I whisper against his cheek, “We’reattractingthem. Act cool, Moretti.”
His surname is a trigger word that summons the ghost of his half-Sicilian pride. Truth is, if he spit in a DNA kit, there probably wouldn’t be enough mafia ancestry left to fill a cannoli. Doesn’t stop his father from trying to weasel his way back into the family’s good graces.
But IneedTalon to pretend he’s still made of something now.
My tits ache in the cold air, nipples pebbling. I’m not wet yet. Not until I peek around Talon’s torso as he shrugs off his shirt.
Then…I spot Aiden.
His glare drills into Talon’s back like twin blades.
When Talon reaches for his mask, I catch his wrist.
“No,” I purr. “Keep it on. It’ll be so hot…”
With a grin, he grabs the back of my neck the way he always does—rough, uncoordinated, and far too pleased with himself.
His lips mash against mine in a graceless kiss as he grunts, grinding his erection into my belly. I weasel my fingers between us and undo his belt, then his trousers, each movement clinical, detached.
Once he’s undressed, I sink onto the soft comforter, making sure the smacking bodies next to me don’t mind. There’s enough space for me to stretch out parallel to the man on his back. He grunts through every brutal thrust from his partner,but still traces a finger down my arm—a wicked hello I answer with a slow, knowing smile.
I spread my thighs wide and curl a finger at Talon, beckoning him down like a crowned empress.
He misses the cue.
Of course he does.
Instead, he clambers over me, breath hot and panicked.
“This is weird,” he whispers with a darted glance at the man next to him, going totownon that ass.
“Eat my pussy,” I say flatly, planting my foot on his shoulder and shoving him lower.
“YouknowI don’t do that shit.”