Page 7 of The Grim, Me, and The Reaper Makes Three

“That I’m dead?”

Atticus chuckled, a rough sound that made Tati’s skin feel too tight. “Well yes, that, but I am sorry that you did not get to see your dreams realized during your lifetime.”

She glanced over at him, at the harsh dark line of his brow and the fathomless black depths of his eyes. He was unbelievably beautiful. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Tink, would you like to dance?”

She looked back at William, who watched her with his playful amber eyes. “With you?” she asked.

William smirked, looking over her shoulder. “With us.”

Tati followed his gaze to Atticus, who watched the other man with an expression that could only be described as predatory. She swallowed, turning back to William. “He dances?”

William laughed. “On Halloween he does.”

“Only because you are very convincing,” Atticus said, his voice smooth and low. He rose gracefully, towering above them. “Shall we?” he asked, extending a hand to Tati.

He pulled her to her feet, moving into the mass of people undulating on the wide, dark dance floor. The music was pulsing, electronic, the lights flashing in time with the beat. It was the kind of music that Tati could feel reverberating in her chest, and she couldn't help but move her body as they made their way toward an undefined middle of the crowd.

William turned, his gaze unabashedly fixed on her body as he started to dance, his hips moving side to side and his upper body swaying to the beat. Tati felt herself mirroring his movements, letting herself simply be in the moment. She wasn’t thinking about death or endings. She was simply a woman dancing between the two most attractive men she’d ever seen. The way she saw it, she’d more than earned the right to fucking enjoy herself.

Any lingering sense of time faded as Tati danced. Her body moved of its own accord, hips twisting back and forth and arms thrown up above her head like she could touch the gray fog that hovered in the air above them. It made no sense that somehow,in death, she felt more alive and in her body than she had in years.

The three of them were close, close enough that she could indulge her desire to watch as each man loosened and lost themselves to the music. Atticus was the kind of dancer who let his eyes drift shut as his head tilted back, exposing the long, graceful line of his pale neck, while William moved more sensually, involving his entire body in his movements.

And when Atticus reached a hand out and grabbed William by the hip, tugging him back so that their bodies were firmly pressed together, it was all the confirmation that Tati needed that these two men, these two eternally beautiful and dangerous men, were somehow involved.

She couldn’t look away as William’s hips pushed back, grinding against Atticus, who dropped his head down to whisper something in William’s ear.

All at once, both of them looked over at her, Atticus’ dark eyes glittering and William’s golden eyes hungry.

William extended a hand to her, raising his brows in a question. She wanted to go,needingto answer the siren call of these two beautiful men, but her eyes darted up to look at Atticus. She couldn’t explain what it was, but somehow she knew that whatever came next would only occur with his approval. For a moment, he simply looked at her, and then, as his lips curved into a smirk, he gave her a nod.

She took William’s hand and rushed forward, her body igniting as her soft stomach brushed against William’s solid muscles. His grip on her was strong as he guided her to press her front against him as one of his thick thighs slid between her legs. He moved her hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, and then, a brush of skin against her waist had her looking down, finding Atticus’ hand holding her more firmly against them.

Suddenly, she was a part of them. Her breathing slowed to match the rise and fall of William’s chest, even as her heart raced. Atticus’ hand was steady on her side, keeping her close as their bodies fell into rhythm with each other with an ease that took her breath away.

And they danced, never breaking the connection of their bodies. As the music transitioned, so did they; William shifted his body so that Tati was sandwiched between them, a small gasp escaping her lips as she found herself face to face with Atticus.

His face was unsmiling, but there was no mistaking the heat and intensity in his gaze. Then his attention shifted, up and over her shoulder to where William stood bracketing her body, and, with a subtle tilt forward, the two men connected in a blistering kiss.

It was the kind of kiss that was so obviously familiar, and yet still packed all of the electricity of initial attraction. It had Tati’s toes curling in her pumps, her heartbeat descending from her chest until the pounding was concentrated at the apex of her thighs.

When they broke apart, there was a wildness to Atticus’ eyes that hadn’t been there before.

A rough hand tangled in her hair, tugging her to the side and exposing her neck. And when William’s mouth descended, demanding and wet against her skin, Tati melted into him. If it wasn’t for Atticus’ grip on her hip she would have been a crumpled heap on the floor.

William trailed kisses and gentle nips of his teeth up her neck until his hot mouth latched onto the divot below her jaw.God, the moan that tore from her mouth was low and throaty, her mind unable to compute what was happening in her body. It was new and unfamiliar, so throbbing andalivethat maybe she wasn’t actually dead. But when the man in front of her leanedforward and claimed her mouth, Tati was gone. Well and truly gone.

Atticus kissed with intensity and focus, his lips softening against hers only for his tongue to press into her mouth, tangling with hers with a graceful aggression that she felt in her core. But Tati refused to sit back and let him do all of the work, reciprocating every brush and stroke of his tongue with her own.

Her breath hitched as William’s beard brushed against her neck. “Atti.” His voice was a low growl. “Please?”

Tati didn’t know what he was asking, and she didn’t care except to protest the fact that Atticus was pulling away, his swollen and wet mouth hovering in front of her, his carefully combed hair askew. He was sin, perfectly crafted.

“Alright then, darling,” he said, his words a sensual purr directed at William. “Let us take our Tinker Bell home.”

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