by Kit Rocha
"Smartass."
"C'mon. You can't be the only guy who couldn't hold down sixteen shots in a row."
"He's not," Lex cut in, easing between them. "But Bren doesn't spill secrets. Unless, of course, they belong to Rachel--who's gonna kick your ass, by the way."
"I know," Bren said mildly.
Six tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced at Lex. The female leader of the O'Kanes was dressed down--for her--but she still made a statement. Her pants alone were worth a month's wages, the leather so supple it hugged every curve and moved when Lex did. Lush, especially when compared to her tiny white tank top, but that scrap of fabric had a different purpose: to barely cover her tits while framing the pair of tattoos that shouted her status, with Dallas's name across her abdomen and his mark around her throat.
The O'Kanes said everything that mattered to them with ink. It made her feel naked, sometimes, having none at all.
Lex didn't seem to care. Her gaze tracked around the room instead, and she shook her head. "Things'll get pretty wild around here tonight."
Six couldn't tell if it was a warning or not. "I thought all your parties got a little wild."
"Some wilder than others. Right, Bren?"
Before he could speak, Trix whirled around, laughing dizzily. Lex caught her with a smile and brushed a kiss to her cheek. "Steady, love."
"Sorry." Her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling with quick, elated breaths.
"Nothing to be sorry about." Lex guided her toward Bren.
He kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, and something ugly and dark twisted in Six's gut, a feeling unpleasantly like jealousy. She jerked her gaze away in time to watch Lex fist a hand in Cruz's short hair and lick her way past his lips.
Jesus, these people had no boundaries.
Lex held the kiss, her tongue sliding over his, while he kept his hands out at his sides, as if he didn't know where he could safely rest them. Six didn't blame him--Dallas O'Kane was a scary fucker.
But when his voice came bellowing across the crowd, Dallas only sounded amused. "Christ, woman," he called out. "Pace yourself. He's barely halfway there."
"Technicalities," Lex murmured as she pulled away and patted Cruz's cheek. "Enjoy your party."
The man might be six-foot-four and carved from rock, but Six swore he blushed as he stumbled to the next person in the circle.
At least she wasn't the only one out of her element.
She tried to fake a casualness she didn't feel as Trix and Cruz worked their way back around toward Rachel. "What happens when they're done with their shots?"
"If they're still upright?" Lex raised both eyebrows as she backed away into the crowd. "Anything goes, honey."
Six couldn't bring herself to look at Bren with the words hanging in the air, vibrating with promise. "Anything, huh?"
He stepped closer, his arm brushing hers. "She's exaggerating, but not much. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can go."
"Not uncomfortable yet." Six bumped her hip against his. "I didn't get it last time."
She felt his stare, intense and focused. "Get what?"
She watched Ace give Trix a friendly slap on the ass that earned him an indulgent smile in return. "That they don't wanna fuck me if I'm not into it."
"Not even a little bit." Bren gestured around the room. "Everyone in here is into something different. Mad likes to have as many people around as possible. Flash used to dig the groupies before he hooked up with Amira. Jas and Noelle are together, but they like to play a little, too. Dallas and Lex are... Well, they're them. But no one in here gets off on forcing anyone."
"But it's not just that. I've met plenty of guys who aren't into force but are fine with a woman who'll close her eyes and put up with it." She'd expected Dallas to be one of them, but maybe she'd been selling the arrogance of the O'Kanes too short. None of these men would tolerate being tolerated.
Bren's words confirmed it. "Doesn't sound like much fun to me."
If it had, he would have already fucked her. She shifted her weight, and the warm skin of his arm pressed more firmly against hers. "Must be nice to be such hot stuff you can hold out for the good sex," she said lightly.
He brushed a lock of hair off her cheek, and her stomach dropped out as his fingertips grazed the shell of her ear.
She dragged in an unsteady breath and shoved both hands into her pants pockets to keep from reaching for him. "Cheater."
"Why?" His hand lingered near her face. "Because you like it? Or because you want more?"
Bren didn't ask rhetorical questions. He asked blunt ones and expected honest answers. Worse, he acted on the things she told him. If she said she didn't like it, he'd stop, even if he didn't believe her. There was no safe evasion, no closing her eyes and protesting too much and secretly hoping he'd keep going.
Honesty--especially about sex--tasted odd on her lips. "I like it," she said carefully. "I don't know if I like liking it. It's dangerous, isn't it?"
He nodded. "I wouldn't do anything you didn't want, but it doesn't stop there. I wouldn't do anything you weren't really fucking sure about, either."
Her heart pounded as the full import of his words slipped through her. The precarious balance of their relationship had tilted. He'd given her the power to ask for more, had painted a magical picture with deceptively innocent words.
Do anything. So mundane, but easy to imagine them lower, rougher. Whispered against her ear, they'd paint a different picture.
I want to do things to you.
She shivered. "If you wait for me to be sure about anything, you really will be an old man before you get the good stuff."
He turned toward her, leaned closer, his bulk and the look in his eyes blocking out the rest of the room. When he spoke, it wasn't against her ear but her cheek, hot and gruff. "What qualifies as the good stuff? Tell me."
This time it wasn't a question. It was an order, an out-and-out command. As hot as his lips were against her cheek, she would not tremble like some city girl who'd just gotten her first glimpse under a man's clothes.
She pressed her hand to his chest and slid it down, past the thick leather of his belt, until her fingers found the firm bulge of his half-aroused cock.
At least she wasn't the only one getting hot and bothered.
With a shred more confidence, she traced the outline of his growing erection before pressing her palm against it. "Every man I've ever met thought it was getting this inside me somehow."
He swallowed, his throat working, and the barest hint of a groan escaped him. "That's not what I asked you."
"Then I don't know." She needed to release him, but feeling him harden under her touch carried a dizzy sort of power. How long had it been since she'd wanted a man to feel good when she touched him? Long enough that she let her fingers fall away. "The only good stuff I know about is getting off, and I never needed a man for that."
The back of his hand grazed the button on her jeans. "No, I guess you don't."
She hissed in a breath and tried not to picture his fingers sliding down the same path her own had taken so many times. "Do you get what I'm saying, though?"
His touch vanished. "No, but I get what it means. It means not yet."
From the shouts and whooping cheers behind him, Cruz and Trix had made another pass. Six felt bolted in place, held captive by nothing more than his gaze and her own confused longing. "What do you think the good stuff is?" she asked, desperate to prolong this quiet oasis of brutal honesty.
"Fucking? That damn sure counts." A tiny smile tilted one corner of his mouth. "But so does everything else."
Without taking her eyes from his, she touched his shoulder. Strong muscles flexed enticingly under her fingertips as she slid her hand down his arm and finally twined her fingers with his. "Even this?"
Bren's smile faded as he raised their clasped hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Especially this."
The sudden burn in her chest scared her. It wasn't arous
al, but something far more insidious, more dangerous. Affection, digging hooks into the painful scars on her heart, and she had to laugh it off to keep from flinging his hand away and bolting. "Then you're easy, Donnelly."
"I know." He looked away, and the moment was broken.
But she still had his hand, his grip firm and reassuring. So she clung to him as the O'Kanes celebrated their newest members, and almost felt as if she belonged.
Almost.
She liked to watch.
It wasn't the first time he'd caught Six staring at a scene of carnal decadence. Tonight, however, Bren was ready to chalk it up to his imagination, horny wishful thinking at its worst. But the third time her gaze drifted toward Mad and Trix and lingered, he knew it was true. Not morbid curiosity or detached interest.
She liked to watch.
Mad had sprawled on a couch with Trix astride his lap. Her hands were tangled in his hair, and his were lost under the skirt of her dress. Their kiss might have seemed tame if the frantic, hungry movement of her hips hadn't suggested that Mad was being very, very clever with his fingers.
When Trix tossed her head back with a sharp moan, Six jerked her gaze away, color rising in her cheeks, her pulse pounding at the base of her throat.
Bren pressed a drink into her hand and watched as Mad shifted position slightly, his arm flexing. Trix whimpered this time, the sound quickly choked off by the shudder that wracked her.
"God." Six stared at empty space as she took a drink. "It's not safe to look anywhere after a few drinks, is it?"
"Lex warned you, and so did I."
"Yeah." She laughed breathlessly. "I don't know the rules. It's not like they're putting on a show. They're all just..."
"Doing what they want." And getting off on people watching. "If they had problems with being seen, they wouldn't be out here."
"Yeah?" She sounded dubious, but her attention was starting to drift again, this time toward the corner where Noelle was on her knees in front of Jasper, unbuckling his belt with slow, teasing movements.
In the shadows, but not quite hidden, which was part of the game. Jas and Noelle were into the exhibitionism, all right, but sometimes this seemed to turn them on the most. The thin veneer of privacy, all too easily pierced by prying, hungry eyes.
Bren slid behind Six, directing her gaze more firmly to the couple. "Now, that is different. They don't just not mind. They want you to see."
"Oh," she breathed, as if she hadn't meant to say anything at all. Her body was primed, and the battle between tension and arousal left her trembling as they both watched Noelle free Jas's erection. Noelle's face was blissful as she stroked her fingers up his shaft, and Six's hand constricted around her glass until her knuckles turned white.
Jasper's groan echoed in Bren's chest, but he held it back in favor of quiet, careful words. "What about you? Do you want to watch?"
Noelle used her tongue to taunt Jasper into sinking his hands into her unbound hair, his fists twisting tight. Six made a muffled noise and leaned into Bren. "I guess I'm a freaky pervert, after all."
He rested one hand on her hip to steady her. "It's not a joke, not any more than the blowjobs or the whips or anything else. It can be something you need."
"Do you need it?"
He tried not to tense. Not that it mattered--it wasn't like his predilections were a big secret. "It's hot, but the only thing I'd call a need of mine is the pain."
She didn't reply, not until Noelle's lips were stretched wide around Jasper's shaft. Six's free hand fell to cover Bren's, her nails digging into his wrist as she shifted uncomfortably. "I couldn't do this," she whispered, and it sounded like a warning. "I couldn't let them watch."
He shivered at the bite of her nails in his skin. "So?"
Her grip tightened, threatening to break the skin. "It's not rude? To get all cranked up and leave to take care of it?"
As if Jas and Noelle would expect her participation in a scene they hadn't discussed with her first. "They're not doing it for your benefit, not like you think. Not so you'll return the favor."
Noelle's hungry moan rose, dragging more eyes than theirs to the corner in time to watch her cross her wrists behind her back in willing, submissive invitation. Jasper teased her by going slow, rocking his hips in short movements before thrusting deep without warning.
"Fucking hell," Six muttered, losing her grip on her glass. Bren didn't have time to catch it before it hit the cement floor with a sharp crack, the glass shattering into a dozen razor-edged pieces.
Six flushed and twisted to face him. "Crap, I'm sorry. I didn't--"
He laid his finger over her lips and slid his free arm around her waist. "Watch the glass."
Lifting her over it was easy--too easy. She'd been in Sector Four for a couple months now, but she was still too thin. Almost delicate.
But she was warm. Her breath was warm too, puffing against his finger with every quick breath. Her nipples were hard little buds he could feel through their clothes, clear evidence of her arousal.
He had to get her out of there before he broke all the careful promises he'd made.
Her body rubbed against his as he lowered her, and he gritted his teeth until her boots hit the floor. "I'll take you back to your room, if you want."
She stared at his chest for a tense moment before nodding.
Her hand was shaking when he wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled her through the crowd and out the side exit. The heavy metal door swung shut behind them, blocking out all the music except for the dull thud of the bass.
She inhaled deeply as the cool night air enveloped them, but didn't speak. Usually she seemed as comfortable with not talking as he was, but tonight their silence was more tense than companionable. She clutched his hand as they crossed the cracked asphalt, not letting go until they reached the building that held the O'Kanes' living quarters.
"You can go back to the party if you want," she said abruptly. "I'm okay."
He kicked open the door and held it for her. "I'm not going to shove you down the hall and run for it. I'm taking you home."
"I won't get jumped between here and my room," she retorted, rolling her eyes, but there was no heat in the words, and her fingers brushed his. "Hell, no one's jumped me in months except you, during practice. I'm probably getting rusty."
"Will you just let me do this?"
She fell silent again.
Anger had lent his words a brusque edge, and he knew she'd assume he was pissed at her, at the world--anyone but himself. "Sorry."
Six shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm a pain in the ass."
He never broke his word. He never lost control. "I promised I wouldn't go there, and I shouldn't have."
"Wait." She grabbed his wrist and hauled him to a stop. "Go where?"
"The party." Except that wasn't quite it. "The sex."
Her brows tugged down in confusion. "What, watching other people have it?"
He felt worse. "You wouldn't have if I hadn't pushed you to, and now look at us."
"You didn't do anything." But she released his wrist and took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that screamed defensiveness. "I'm not some sheltered city girl who's never seen a guy getting sucked off before."
"But I promised--" And then it hit him, a thunderclap of understanding. She wasn't a city girl, no. But she'd been sheltered, because she had no idea. "You don't know, do you? How close we were?"
Those dark eyes were so wary. "To what? Fucking?"
He closed the space between them. He couldn't help it, just like he couldn't help the way his voice roughened. "Fucking. It doesn't start when you get naked, not the way I do it."
She stiffened, but even with him crowding her space, she didn't shrink away. She didn't look away, either, just stared up at him as her uneven breaths pushed her tits against his chest. "How does it start?"
"Like this." His hands itched to slide up and cup her flesh so he'd know what kind of noise she made when he pinched he
r nipples between his fingers. "When we both start thinking about it. When we both want it."
Her gaze dipped to his mouth, and her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip. "Maybe that's how it starts, but it shouldn't count until you're trying to get in me. So you didn't do anything wrong, okay?"
Bren scoffed. He was so hard it hurt, and he'd bet cash money she was so wet he'd have to fight to keep his fingers from slipping on her thighs as he positioned her for that first thrust. Maybe it shouldn't count, but it sure the hell did.
Didn't it?
He stepped back, putting a solid two feet of distance between them before meeting her eyes again. "You wouldn't tell me if I did do something wrong, though. Would you?"
She blinked, as if he'd broken a spell, and her features twisted into a scowl. "If you did something I didn't want, I'd knee your balls halfway to your throat."
Which didn't mean she wouldn't let him lead her, talk her around to something because she trusted him to know what was best. To treat her kindly. "Come on." He resumed his path down the hall. "It's getting late."
She trailed behind him, silent as a shadow until he reached her room. She paused with her fingers on the doorknob. "You don't have to go back to the party to get off. We could--or I could. I mean, if you want."
Oh, Christ. "I'm not going back to the party." And he'd be damned before he let any woman, much less a traumatized one, throw him a pity jerk.
"Oh." She pushed open the door, but didn't cross the threshold. "But you don't wanna mess around?"
It was his own fucking fault for jumping the gun, for the mixed signals of putting his hands on her. "Maybe some other time."
Awkward silence stretched out forever before she turned and walked stiffly into her room. "Okay, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. If we've still got practice."
"Three o'clock this time." By then, he could lock it down. Get his libido under control.
She made a quiet noise--agreement, acknowledgment, he couldn't even tell--and closed the door in his face.
Bren backed against the opposite wall and indulged himself with one light bang of his head against the brick. She was upset, he was an ass--and the whole situation would get worse, not better, if they had to hit Sector Three this twisted up.