I don’t even know if he ever really liked me at all. Maybe it was just a rumor, as untrue as the rest of them.
Just in case it wasn’t, though…
I bite down on my bottom lip, looking down at my legs. “I’m sorry you blew up Valerie’s car for no reason.”
I feel his eyes locked on me, but I don’t look at him. After a few seconds, he says, “Wasn’t for no reason. It was for you.”
I didn’t expect him to say that. I’m surprised enough that I look over at him.
His lips curve up. He leans over, knocking his shoulder into mine. “We’re friends, right?”
I don’t know about that.
I’d like to be his friend, it just seems… dangerous.
“We’re friendly, at least,” I offer back.
“There you go.” He meets my gaze again, his dancing with amusement. “We’re good, Riley. Don’t worry about it.”
“I just… I wouldn’t have wanted to hurt your feelings,” I say, even though I feel awkward saying it. “If I did, I didn’t mean to.”
He smirks. “Don’t worry, buttercup. My feelings can take it.”
My heart does a jump that warns me I should probably wrap this up and get back to Hunter.
“No regrets, then?”
“Not one,” he says, and that’s more telling since he didn’t just set Valerie’s car on fire—he kissed me.
I bite down on my bottom lip, my teeth sinking in right where his did that night.
A shiver dances down my spine.
I look away.
My stomach knots up. I think it’s okay for us to be friendly, but I still think it’s safest to avoid being alone with him.
I lean forward, looking around for Hunter. His yard is so big and spread out, we’re over here by ourselves and they’re… pretty far away.
I know Hunter doesn’t want me alone with Sherlock.
Just when I’m about to give up my spot by the fire and go find Hunter, Sherlock says, “He’s behind you.”
“What?” I twist around and my heart leaps when I spot Hunter in the shadows. I don’t know how he snuck over here without me noticing… or how long he’s been standing there. “Hunter.”
“Buttercup,” he says wryly.
My stomach twists. That feeling comes back, the not quite guilty, but definitely not innocent one.
Swallowing, I start to push myself up off the ground, but Hunter cuts me off before I can stand.
“Stay where you are.”
I do, but I look up at him warily. My heart beats erratically. Is he mad? I can’t tell.
The fire plays weird tricks, making my beautiful boyfriend look a little evil, too.
Fear dances down my spine as he walks around to stand in front of me, then drops to his knees.
Anxiety tightens in my chest. I don’t want to have hurt him. I don’t think I crossed any lines, but maybe I was flirting with one. I wasn’t trying to start anything. Quite the opposite, really. I was establishing closure, saying goodbye.
“Are you mad?” I ask worriedly, looking at Hunter. “I didn’t mean to be alone with him, I was just watching the fire and he came over.”
“Mm-hmm,” Hunter murmurs, but he doesn’t look mad, exactly.
He places a hand on my chest and pushes me back.
I’m confused, but I let him lay me down on the ground.
Then he straddles me.
A breath rushes out of me. He’s on top of me like he would be in bed, but we’re not in bed. I’m on the cold ground, we’re outside, and worst of all, Sherlock is still sitting right beside me.
Hunter leans down and kisses me.
Like always, his kiss brings a wave of butterflies to my already nervous tummy. I bring my hands up and cradle his face as I kiss him back, but I’m not into PDA, so making out like this in front of Sherlock… It’s pretty far outside my comfort zone.
I figure Hunter just needs to make a point, assert his dominance. I expect him to leave it at a kiss to mark me in front of a perceived rival.
But then his hands slide under the hoodie he gave me. I gasp against his mouth as he palms my bare breasts under my shirt.
“Hunter,” I say, breaking away.
“Yes, Riley?”
I feel heat climbing my body, heat that has nothing to do with the fire. “Maybe we should go inside,” I suggest.
Hunter shakes his head. He remains on top of me, straddling me, and almost defiantly starts to play with my breasts.
Mortified, I look over at Sherlock. “Maybe you should go.”
“Should I?”
I gasp as Hunter’s thumb runs over my nipple. Nodding fervently, I explain, “I can’t say no.”
Sherlock frowns, not comprehending.
“We’re playing a game,” I say, in a rush to explain before Hunter draws another breathless response out of me. “He can do whatever he wants—” I gasp again as Hunter squeezes my nipple, then flattens my breast against his palm and leans down to claim my lips. When he breaks away, I try to finish quickly. “He can do whatever he wants to me. I can’t stop him.”
I don’t know what I expect to see on Sherlock’s face as he watches my boyfriend toy with me, but all I see is dark interest. “Sounds like a fun game,” he remarks, glancing at Hunter. “Do I get a turn?”
Hunter smiles, meeting his friend’s gaze. “No. But feel free to watch me play with her.”
I swallow, not at all liking the sound of that. “Hunter…”
He looks down at me, cocking an eyebrow as he defiantly tweaks my nipple. “Riley…”
“This is a bad idea.”
Chapter Sixty
Hunter
I’m no stranger to bad ideas.
Riley’s probably right. In some ways, this is one.
In other ways, it’s the best fucking idea I’ve ever had.
It rubs me wrong, being a jealous guy. I’ve never encountered that before Riley. Never really looked at other men and saw much of a threat, either.
Sherlock, though. Fucking Sherlock.
He’s a different breed. A predator. A threat, even if you think you’re above that kind of thing.
And he called my fucking girl a pet name.
Buttercup.
His affection for her ignites something inside me. Anger courses through me thinking about it, but I channel it. Rather than lose my shit on Riley, I squeeze her tits a little harder.
Fear and uncertainty flicker across her pretty face, but there’s something else there, too.
I know she’s not comfortable, but that’s all right. People don’t need to be comfortable all the time.
As long as she’s at least a little bit titillated underneath that barrier of fear, we’re all right.
And she is. She squirms beneath me, her teeth sinking into that bottom lip this fucking bastard bit.
Oh yeah, it’s on.
I pull one of my hands out of her shirt so I can graze her bottom lip with my thumb, then I slide it between her pretty little lips. “Suck it, baby. Pretend it’s my cock.”
She squirms again like she’s in agony, like I’m killing her by making her do this. It’s too dark to tell, but I’d bet my trust fund she’s fire engine red.