Page 132 of Twisted Play
“None of your fucking business,” she snapped.
“Everything you do is my fucking business,” he snarled.
What the fuck was going on here? Rory jerked away from him. “I came to see Eva,” she said, her voice soft and pleading, nothing like I expected.
“Let’s dance,” I said decisively, shoving my way off my men’s laps before they could stop me. I grabbed Rory’s hand and dragged her to the crowded dance floor.
“You okay?”
She grinned. “Am now! You look like you’re doing better than okay!”
The vibrator inside me surged to life, and I stumbled, holding back a whine. “Fuck,” I gasped.
Rory’s brows furrowed in puzzlement.
“I’m wearing—there’s a—” The music’s volume increased, and so did the sensations on my core. “They fucking put a vibrator inside of me!”
Rory burst out into laughter. “Oh, you poor thing,” she teased me. “The attention of two big, strong hockey players too much for you?”
She knew about the sex. She didn’t know about the deal.
It didn’t take long for Cole to join us on the dance floor, along with Massi.
Cole pulled me away from Rory and against him, my back to his torso as we swayed to the pounding beat.
I threw my head back over Cole’s shoulder as his hips dug into mine, his erection pressing into my back.
“Cole,” I whimpered, heedless of our audience. “Please.”
“Please what, sparrow?” His breath was hot on my ear, sending gooseflesh down my spine.
“I need to come,” I gasped.
“Want me to shove my hand into your leggings in the middle of the bar? Finger your clit until you’re screaming with pleasure?”
“No, fuck, please,” I gasped, the eroticism of his words only fanning the flames of my arousal.
Tristan joined us. He slid his fingers up my hips and under my jersey—his jersey—to settle his hands on the bare skin of my back.
My eyes caught on Rory wrapped in Massi’s arms, having a fierce argument. He bent down to kiss her, but Tristan distracted me with a kiss of his own.
“You’re so fucking hot in my jersey. All I’ve been thinkingabout since we left the game is you riding me, wearing nothing else.”
Cole nipped at my neck, scraping his teeth over my skin, and I moaned.
“I want that too,” I whispered into Tristan’s chest. “Let’s go.”
47
TRISTAN
Eva satin the front seat of Cole’s car, moaning as I played with the remote that controlled her vibrator.
“You better not fucking come before we get there,” Cole commanded.
“I won’t,” she gasped. “It’s not quite—” She cut herself off and moaned.
“C’mon, kitten. Almost there,” I said, my fingers tangled in her hair as I watched her, rapt.
