Page 59 of Princes of Carnage

“You would know.” Atlas sets his bowl in the sink with a clatter and then turns to me. “Is that what you have with Nico?”

My stomach flutters, my mouth dropping open in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“Chemistry. You and Nico. It sounded like he fucked you to within an inch of your life the other night, so there must be some kind of spark between you two.” He moves closer to me, something burning in his eyes. “There must be something. Why else would you fuck your enemy like that? Why else would you scream for him the way you did?”

Atlas’s voice is a rough burn, and he takes another step toward me until we’re only inches apart. He’s tall—taller than me, even if he’s shorter and less bulky than Killian—and he seems to fill the space with his presence. His clean, citrusy scent fills my nostrils as he stares down at me, and there’s a look in his eyes that I can’t identify. But it makes something low in me tighten, almost with anticipation.

I lick my lips, and his gaze darts down to follow the motion, lingering before it slides back up to my eyes. I can feel his focus like a physical thing, like a caress over my cheek.

Atlas drops his head, and my pulse jumps. I feel frozen in place as he brings his face close to mine, my throat working as I swallow. His voice is even lower when he speaks again.

“Your vegetables are burning.”

It takes me a second to process his words, and the acrid smell of over-charred veggies hits my nose, bringing me back to my senses.

My muscles jerk as if I’m pulling myself back from falling off a ledge, and I quickly shut the burner off and then move away, putting distance between us. That’s barely enough to calm down the way my heart is pounding, and suddenly, the room feels much too small.

Shoving the pan of burned veggies into the sink, I turn and bolt from the kitchen, heading for the stairs.

Between that strangely charged moment I had with Killian when we were out scouting the drop point, and whatever just happened with Atlas…

I shake my head.

I don’t understand why all three of the men I’ve been forced to live with have this way of throwing me off balance, but it’s getting to be too much.

I stride quickly up the stairs, half lost in my own thoughts, not really paying attention to where I’m going—until I collide with a solid, muscled body.

A small, startled sound spills from my lips as Nico’s hands come up to steady me. He catches my wrists, his fingers locking around them as his brow furrows. His blue and green eyes bounce between mine as he studies my face, and I have no idea if he can read any of my emotions in my expression, but his intense scrutiny makes my heart pound even harder.

Our gazes lock, and I’m viscerally aware of the points of connection between us, the feel of his skin against mine burning like fire.

Everything is crashing around in my head, and I’m still riding the unnerving heat and tension from the kitchen, still feeling all jumbled up about it.

My body acts before my brain can think better of it, needing… something.

With a low, strangled noise, I lunge forward, kissing Nico hard.

20

QUINN

I’m breaking my own fucking rule, and a part of me is screaming in my head about it. But a much bigger, much louder part of me doesn’t fucking care right now.

I feel like I’m burning up, caught in a tangle of confused, pulsing arousal, and I just need to take the edge off. It’s been days like this with no release, and every little thing that happens between me and these men just pushes me closer to the brink.

I wrap my arms around Nico’s neck, latching on to him as I kiss him hard and fast. He responds almost instantly, his arms banding around me as he kisses me back with just as much passion and violence.

There’s a low, masculine growl against my mouth, and he pivots suddenly, pressing me up against the wall in the hallway. He lifts one of my legs and hooks his hand under my knee, pushing forward until his crotch is grinding against mine.

I gasp at the feeling of it, the hard line growing in his pants that proves he wants this just as badly as I do right now.

“Jesus Christ, Quinn,” he murmurs into the kiss. “You feel that? You feel what you fucking do to me? I had a taste of you once, and all I’ve been able to think about since then is how badly I want another. You’re so fucking bad for me.”

I know what he means.

He’s bad for me too.

All of this is bad, so wrong and so fucked up.

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