Page 128 of Brazen Deceits

“Whatever makes our girl happy,” he says, running his fingers forward, coating them with my juices. With a hitch of his hips and a brutal kiss, he presses a finger into my asshole, and oh my God. The stretch and burn, followed by new nerve endings bursting to life at his touch, it makes me squeal and pant, rocking against him again, my panties wet through.

The van stops and Walker crawls into the back, pausing next to Trips, his eyes mirroring my lust back to me. “Damn. That is a pretty sight, isn’t it, RJ?”

RJ stands up, stepping back. “Gorgeous.” He watches as Jansen pumps his finger in and out of my ass and I whimper. It’s so good, so new, and almost too much. “There are sandals in the cupboard, Trips,” he adds, not turning or moving, but biting his own lip in anticipation.

Walker clears his throat. “Are we doing this in the back of a converted van? Or upstairs in our five-star suite?”

A breathy laugh falls from my lips. “I’ll take you all wherever you’ll have me.”

Trips’ soft “Fuck” drifts through the van.

RJ rubs the back of his neck. “Upstairs. But first, I need everyone’s earbuds.”

Walker and Trips fish theirs out and hand them to RJ, who puts them in the case before coming up to Jansen and me. I swallow, suddenly horrified. “Mine was in Trips’ shirt pocket.”

RJ presses a kiss to my forehead, my temple. “It’s okay, sugar. I can make more.”

I melt into his touch, but the guilt is heavy in my chest. How could I forget about that?

Jansen sighs, pulling his finger from my ass, a moan snaking out of my lips at the loss. Plucking out the earbud with the other hand, he passes it to RJ, who tucks the case into the false bottom of the bench.

Walker scoops me out of Jansen’s lap, his maple syrup and pine scent coated with the hollow scent of tempera paint, and I press my nose to his neck, stealing some of his warmth.

Trips flings open the back of the van with one hand, leaping out. “I guess I’ll deal with Jasmine, then.”

Jansen and RJ jump down next, and I’m handed to RJ, my feet not touching the garage floor. RJ’s citrus scent mixes with Walker’s pine, and my nose is a happy little forest.

“It can wait. We’ll call tomorrow, set up the drop. Walker, do you think you could send a quick ‘we got it’ message for now?” RJ asks.

“On it.” Walker turns back to the lone laptop left sitting next to the mattress and types something quickly, shutting the computer before jumping out, slamming the doors of the van behind him.

Trips marches away, cursing to himself, as we all trail him to the elevator. My arms are tight around RJ’s neck as I twine my fingers into his coils, the soft strands enticing. He presses his nose to my forehead, a lull in the storm brewing inside me.

We make it up to the room, Trips stomping into the kitchen, filling up a glass of water, his back to the rest of us.

God. I’m such a selfish bitch.

I want him too.

But he won’t come with us. I know it. And I haven’t found a way to break his shell, to let him do what he so obviously wants to do.

I tap on RJ’s neck, and somehow, he understands I want to stop. “Trips?” I call. He doesn’t look, but he sets his glass down on the counter. “Thank you.”

His gaze burns into my own as he turns his head to me, a deep bruise forming on face. He nods, slowly, the same fire as my own in his eyes, but banked, locked down. Locked away, like all his emotions, always boiling under the surface.

Then he refills the glass and stalks to his bedroom, the door just shy of slamming behind him.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as RJ follows the other guys upstairs to the room they teased me in yesterday.

“He’ll come around, sugar,” RJ says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “He’d be a fool not to.”

Maybe.

Or maybe I’m the fool for wanting him to.

Chapter 59

RJ

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