Page 9 of Room One Hundred and Six

His voice has a roughness to it. Like thick cigar smoke rolling over chiseled ice. It’s cool, and calm, but you just know every word he says hides dangerous edges.

Adrenaline mixes with my blood, causing my nipples to harden. The artist who painted me into a jungle delight left my nipples bare and Shayne loves the view. His nostrils flare with obvious interest.

I swallow thickly and try to tamper down the rebellious heat growing inside me. I want him to continue stroking me, but he moves his touch to the ends of my rebellious hair. “Look at you. Beautiful black curls you can’t control, plump pink lips and all that glorious lickable green paint. It’s like you were brought here just for us.”

Ha. If he only knew.

He leans in and brushes his lips against my ear. “Green is my favorite color, by the way,” he purrs. Good lord this man. I look and catch the hungry look on his face.

“Is that so?”

He draws my hand to rest over his shoulder “It’s the God’s honest truth, tigress. Now tell us one of your secrets. What are your secret fantasies?” Shayne leans in, pressing his front to my back.

The question draws a throbbing answer within me. I ignore it. “Sorry, handsome. I’ve already been asked that once this evening. You’ll have to be more creative.”

Shayne’s smile deepens and the dark gleam in his eyes flickers with sexual interest. “Since you’re standing here with us, I’m going to say whoever the unlucky bastard was, didn’t stand a chance at fulfilling your desires. Let us try.”

I hold his gaze through the mirror.

“What makes you think you are the man for the job?”

I’m playing with fire and it might be fun to get a little burned. I don’t recognize the inner vixen coming out to play but I like her.

Shayne’s heat level between us cranks up high enough to shoot goose bumps over my skin. My brain doesn’t know how to react to him, but my body does.

Hot liquid slips from my channel at the same time his arm comes around my midriff and his large hand settles over my quivering stomach. One press, and my ass is against his hard length.

I lightly gasp, my mouth falling open with surprise and need. So much need. The heated touch of his skin on mine contrasts the cold metal of his ring. It’s a point I mentally latch onto and center myself or I might fall into the carnal urges this man brings to the surface with a mere touch.

“I have a feeling your body will respond to anything we subject you to.”

The confidence in him is palpable.

And he’s right. My entire body lights up. “I don’t think you are wrong,” I admit. I see no reason to play coy or hide the truth. I arch in a way that has my ass pressing against him more firmly and he takes that as a sign to taste the paint on the curve of my shoulder. The heat of his tongue is delicious and I enjoy seeing his lashes close and him savor my sweetness for a moment.

We both lock eyes in the mirror. “Tell me one fantasy, lover.” Shayne’s voice dips to a low rumble. “You can whisper them to Voss and me while Jasper isn’t here. We’ll play and he can watch if he wants to spend all night on the phone. Would you like that?”

The playfulness in Shayne’s voice loosens the tension between my shoulder blades.

“Do you leave him out of your games, often?”

“Only when I’m feeling selfish and baby, you make me want to keep all of you for myself.”

Energy buzzes over my skin causing my breasts to become heavy with the need to have his hands on them again.

“Easy, Shayne. Don’t scare the pretty jungle flower away before we get a taste of her nectar. You know there’s no way you get to keep her all to yourself.”

My attention moves to the other brother. Voss “Ace” Ambrose. I never learned why he is called Ace. In his line of work, it’s probably not a cute story.

The fine lines at the edges of his eyes offer hints of his age. If I had to guess mid-thirties. But I know he’s closer to forty. The fine material of his suit moves and molds to the broad form of his shoulders and the thickness of his arms. He’s the observant brother and evidently the voice of reason. “Jasper would kill you with his bare hands if you tried to take a jungle flower like this one away from him.”

Another seeking hand slides along my waist to join Shayne’s. Powerful. Possessive. Even as the youngest Ambrose brother, Voss has at least ten years on me. That makes Jasper nearing twenty years my senior.

With them both standing with their shoulders touching, my view of Jasper is cut off.

I know what this is and for the life of me I can’t seem to care that these one-liners are as fake as my reason for being in their private booth.

I have a few of my own. “I have a lot of secrets, if you’re willing to tease them from me.”