Page 109 of Seven Lost Summers
Nate hasn’t said a word, but when I glance at him, his face tells me everything. His eyes are darker now, fixed on me with a weight that makes my skin prickle.
Theo moves closer.
One step.
Then another.
Slow. Measured. Each one pulling something tighter inside me until I’m wound so tight I could snap.
He stops just behind me. His body radiates heat, wrapping around my back before he’s even touched me.
My breath falters, my grip on the beer bottle tightening until my knuckles ache.
Theo leans in, mouth grazing the shell of my ear. His voice is low, threaded with something dangerous. “You say I couldn’t handle you. But I see you.”
His breath drifts down my neck, and my body betrays me. “I see the way your thighs press together when I talk to you. The way you squirm when Nate brushes your arm.”
Each word carves into me, heat flooding through my veins. My spine goes rigid, but my body betrays me again, tilting toward him. He hasn’t laid a hand on me, and still I’m trembling, my breaths short and uneven, chest rising in quick bursts as the air between us burns thin.
Behind me, his fingers brush the bare skin of my lower back, and the single touch has every muscle in my body tightening.
My eyes flutter shut.
I should step forward, put distance between us.
But I don’t.
Because some part of me needs to hear what else he has to say.
“I wouldn’t just handle you, Quinn,” Theo murmurs. “I’d have you begging. And I wouldn’t stop until you forgot how to speak.”
My breath snags, breaking into a sound I can’t take back. A soft, desperate noise that betrays me completely.
Then Nate’s voice cuts through the haze, making my pulse spike so hard it hurts.
“He will. We both will.”
My head jerks up.
Nate’s right there. He steps in closer.
The room tilts, my world narrowing to nothing but the two of them closing in.
Theo stays rooted at my back, a wall of heat and muscle that locks me in place while Nate pins me from the front.
The air between us crackles, and my heart hammers against my ribs.
Nate’s fingers slide up, curling around my throat with care. His palm is warm, steady, and the slow drag of his thumb over my pulse makes my legs almost give out.
“She’s shaking,” Nate mutters, the sound scraping through me. “You feel that?”
Theo’s grip on my hip tightens, pulling me back until I’m pressed flush against him. The hard line of his cock digs into my ass, and a broken gasp punches past my lips. The pure fucking intent in the way he holds me makes my mouth go dry.
“Yeah,” he growls against my ear. “She’s soaked. I’d bet my fucking life on it.”
The sound that rips out of me isn’t a word. It’s a desperate whimper that shatters every wall I’ve tried to hold in place.
Nate exhales slowly, his breath warm against my cheek. His hand stays firm on my throat, not squeezing, only holding, claiming. His forehead lowers until it almost touches mine, his eyes burning straight through me.
