Page 36 of Virgin Skin

I nod. He steers me towards the bar, Jag right beside us. Just like with the bouncer, he gets ahead of us and greets the bartender like they’re old friends, hoisting himself up to lean across the bar. He says something into the man’s ear that makes the big, beefy bear blush, then throw his head back and laugh. The rest of the customers waiting to be served throw irritated looks in their direction while Jag waves us over to get our order.

“You letting this guy get you into trouble tonight?” the bartender teases, jerking a thumb at Jag when we reach the bar.

My eyes drop to his name tag, which reads Nyx. “Who says I’m not the one causing all the trouble, Nyx?” I bat my eyelashes.

He grins and gives me a slow perusal, the weight of his gaze making me feel like he’s stripping me out of my clothes one item at a time and he likes what he sees. Behind me, Piston makes a huffy noise and crowds in close to me, all but pissing on my leg to mark me as his territory. Fuck yes, I am such a genius. I guess some of the credit has to go to Jag, since the club was his idea and he clearly wants to fuck with Piston too, just in a totally different way than I’m trying to.

Nyx’s eyes move to Piston and the heat in his gaze settles as he clearly gets the message.

“Can I get a vodka soda?” I ask.

“And a water,” Piston grunts.

“Fuck me up, sunshine.” Jag flashes a smile. I have no clue what he’s ordering, but Nyx certainly seems to. He chuckles and turns to get to work on our drinks. While we wait, I manage to adjust to the noise and flashing lights enough to scope the place out.

There are some booths and tables lining one wall, with a massive dance floor packed with half-naked men grinding on each other to the pulsing techno beats the DJ plays. Lust is heavy in the air, men groping each other, shoving tongues down each other’s throats, some seemingly seconds from fucking right there in the open everywhere I look.

My cock tingles and swells, heat pooling in my gut. A couple of guys are in an intense lip lock a few feet down the bar. I feel a little bit like a voyeur, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the way their tongues slide back and forth into each other’s mouths as they grind against each other shamelessly. If they didn’t want anyone looking, they wouldn’t be doing it right up against the bar, so I’m not going to feel too guilty about all the staring.

They break apart and one of them meets my gaze, a filthy smirk twisting his damp lips.

“Hey.” That’s all he says, but the single word is heavy with implication. His partner turns to look at me too, looking me up and down with the same greedy assessment Nyx gave me. Then he glances at Piston, who’s still standing close, his posture possessive, leaning in towards me without actually touching me.

It’s obvious I’d be in way over my head with the two of them. They’re deep-sea diving while I’m just getting ready to wade in. I’m not going to let the fact that they look at least five years younger than me rattle my confidence. On the bright side, if myplan works and Piston ends up dragging me home in a jealous rage, I won’t have to feel too bad about leaving them high and dry since they’ll still have each other.

Decision made, I take the drink Nyx sets down on the bar in front of me without looking and slip away from Piston and Jag to sidle closer to the couple.

“Hey,” I respond to the greeting and take a sip from my drink. Piston was right, it’s a light pour, but I’m not about to complain about it. I’d rather keep a clear head if there’s even a slight chance something could happen tonight. And bysomething, I of course mean Piston stripping me out of my clothes the way Nyx clearly wanted to and dragging his hot, wet tongue all over me.

I shiver with the heat of the thought.

“I’m Zeke,” the taller of the two, with dark hair and a septum hoop says. “And this is Luther.” He nods to his partner, shorter and blond, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’m Milo.”

“Is that your man?” Luther asks, jerking his chin behind me.

I don’t have to look to know he’s referring to Piston.

“No.” I take another sip of my drink.

Zeke raises an eyebrow. “You sure? Because he looks like he’s about to come over here and pound on us… and not in the fun way.”

I bark out a laugh and glance over my shoulder finally. Sure enough, Piston is glaring daggers. Jag is already occupied, holding court for three men who are all surrounding him, jockeying to be the one to buy his next drink.

I give Piston a cheeky little wave then turn back to my new friends.

“Alright, full disclosure, he totally wants me but he’s being stubborn about it,” I confess.

Luther titters a laugh and leans in conspiratorially. “So you want us to take you out onto the dance floor and grind on you until he loses his shit and drags you out of here in a jealous rage?”

“If it wouldn’t be a hardship?” I flash them a dimpled grin, hoping it’ll charm them into helping me out.

“Hell yeah. Sounds like fun,” Zeke says, reaching out to snag my wrist.

I throw back the rest of my drink, put the empty glass on the bar top, then let the two of them pull me out onto the dance floor.

PISTON

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