Page 89 of Protect Me
It’s the same with Duncan, and I watch as they take turns patrolling a section and then exchanging looks that convey whether it’s all clear or there’s a threat to investigate. I wonder how I can know what they’re thinking. Maybe I’m just reading too much into things. With a shake of my head, I refocus, noting how the music is cueing me up to begin.
When it’s my turn, the spotlight shifts, and I leap into motion, tossing myself into the air with only a curtain of silk to save me. It’s a breathless thrill and then a sensual dance with myself in front of a tent full of onlookers. Somehow, the same way I knew the guys had deemed the tent safe from threats before, I know they’re watching me now.
I can feel it.
Their eyes track me as if their hands are touching me. And for them, I dance and soar and spin. For them, my own desire builds with each twist and impossible contortion of my body.
When the song ends, I am burning from the inside out, pulse thrumming, passion rising. All I want is the three of them. All I can think about is giving my body over to their domination. Duncan’s words from earlier ring in my head about belonging to him, and I realize I’ve never wanted anything more than to belong to Duncan, Bracken, and Killian.
Chapter22
Sway
At the end of the night, Bracken is waiting for me. The tent emptied of its guests an hour ago, but I stayed behind to help reset the props and rigging. The extra work has worn me the hell down, but one look at Bracken standing there and my pulse thrums with a burst of energy.
He’s like a blast of the world’s strongest caffeine.
“Hey,” I say.
“Don’theyme,” he says. “What are you wearing?”
“My costume.” I glance down at the black lace and then up at him. “Do you like it?”
He steps closer, lowering his voice despite the fact that we’re alone in here. “You’re obviously trying to kill me,” he says in a low voice.
I smile. “Not kill, just torture.”
He groans and slings his arm around my shoulders, leading me toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Home.
The word hits me like a punch in the gut, and I nearly lose my breath at the casual way he says it. It knocks me off-kilter, slowing me down a step or two as my heart tries to make a big deal out of a throwaway comment.
What would it be like if this were my home?
I can’t even let myself think it.
“You okay?”
Bracken’s sharp gaze is already assessing me when I glance up. Shit.
“Fine. Hey, where are the others?”
His gaze narrows, and I can see he doesn’t believe me. Still, he doesn’t press. “You’ll see.” We stop outside the apartment, and he adds, “It’s time for one of those plans I mentioned.”
He pushes open the door and steps back, allowing me to go first. I walk into the apartment and stop, staring at the sight before me. All of the furniture has been shoved against one wall, clearing space for the full silks setup that has been rigged from the ceiling in the center of the living room. The sheer black material swings lazily from its fasteners, and on either side, Duncan and Killian stand, watching me with scorching stares.
“What is this?” I ask, wandering closer.
“You wore that little number to torture us,” Duncan says.
“And it fucking worked,” Killian added. His gaze is hungry now, roaming over me, and my skin heats where his eyes linger.
“Now, you can do what that costume was meant for,” Bracken says, coming up behind me. “Give us a performance of our own.”
“You want me to do a private performance,” I say. “Right here for just you three.” My pulse hammers, blood roaring in my ears. Being on display for a crowded Big Top is one thing…but a private performance for their eyes only? It turns me the hell on.
“We want you to let us look at you,” Bracken says, brushing a kiss along my throat from where he still hovers behind me.