Page 15 of Virgo Queen
I don’ttryto hide.
I’m better at hiding than anyone I know. I have to be.
Hiding is how I stay safe.
But I’m distracted (in the best possible way) when Draco reaches a brawny arm overhead and peels off his shirt in a single rough pull.
Whoa.
My eyes skim over the broad flex of his shoulders, down the smooth plane of his chest and the hard ripple of his abs, to the obscene way his leather pants hug his hips. The thick bulge of his erection shoves against his zipper in a way that sends heat flooding up my neck to my hairline.
Great. Now I’m blushing.
Of course I’m blushing. It’s the curse of having a redhead’s fair complexion.
“Now I really wanna know what you’re thinkin’,” Draco says gruffly.
I bite my lip and shake my head so hard my curls bounce. My stare skitters around for a safe place to land and settles on the nautical North Star compass tattoo inked into the pale skin over his left pec, right over his heart.
That’s his mafia tat.
Draco Mars is a made man.
The whole school knows it. But that infamous piece of stylized ink confirms every dangerous rumor.
He follows my gaze to the tat. Then the open heat blazing in his face kind of shutters.
“Helvítis,” he mutters. “It’s just ink. I won’t hurt you, Mallory.”
It isn’t just ink. The Mars clan has Viking blood. If the rumors are true, a Mars man kills to earn the clan ink.
But I do believe he won’t hurt me.
Knowing he’s so deadly?
For some screwed-up reason, that makes me feel safe.
“Ah, let him see you,chere,” Jae coaxes in my ear. The hot brand of his lips against my neck makes me shiver. His savage claws tickle my waist through my falling-down dress. “Let both of us see you,oui?”
We shouldn’t be doing this. For sure.
I mean—not here.
But we’re not supposed to invite guys into the girls’ wing upstairs (or vice versa) either. That’s why literally the whole school (minus the faculty, all thankfully absent) is screwing down here. The air is thick with Mogadon pheromones and shifter mating scent and a musky tang I’m pretty sure is semen.
Both Jae and Draco are pumping out plenty of their own scent. And the wallop of their mingled essence against my hyped-up senses is making my head spin.
I feel like I’m watching someone else, pinned and spread on this table between them, with my skirt riding up my thighs and my dress slipping off my shoulders.
At the same time, I’ve never felt more aware of my own body.
I stare up at Draco’s hungry face, breathe into the eager flex of Jae’s claws around my waist. Then I suck in a huge breath and just…
…let my bodice drop.
I mean, if these two guys are going to reject me for my flaws, better just get it over with. Before my heart gets any more involved.
With both of them.
