Page 30 of Wild Flower

Carl’s eyes hit me hard, suddenly understanding what Archer meant earlier when he saidWe fuck together, but not necessarily each other.

“Are you kidding?” Carl asks, looking between me and the two men who’ve flushed my skin. “Is this why you wanted to come here? For some messed up—?”

“Be careful what you say in front of the lady!” Finn threatens.

“Lady?” Carl’s eyes fall on me with so much venom I can’t hide from the shitty stunt I’ve pulled. He’s a pawn in all of this—a pawn of both me and my mom.

“I am who I am,” I say, surprised at the confidence with which I say that. I didn’t plan this escapade, but I don’t regret it either.

“No wonder your mom wishes you were your sister,” Carl snaps, deliberately punching a hole in my new-found confidence.

“I think it’s time you leave,” Archer says, noticing my demeanor shift.

“She’s all yours!” Carl throws his napkin on the table, glaring at me with a look that saysI’m going to tell your mother about this.

Fuck.

Carl storms out in an angry huff.

Of course, he does.

I don’t know Carl very well, but I do know how the gossip train works in country clubs. My mother is going to skin me alive when she hears about her whore of a daughter who went out on a blind date and suggested a foursome.

The bright side—other than the two hungry men at my sides—is this stunt may be the solution to my mother’s blind date addiction. She’s not going to set me up again if I’m going to act out.

But I don’t think I’m going to like the fallout.

19

ARCHER

My hand slips back between Becca’s legs, her eyes glazing as she looks up, a pliable dove ready to obey. Finn steps to her other side and cups her cheek, turning her face to him as her mouth drops open in invitation.

She’s eclipsed.

Finn kisses her and my hand slides to the dark side of the moon. The two of us are the Earth throwing a shadow over her body: Finn the sun shining upon her mouth, and me the shadow, wrapping her in a veil of lust, eager to take her into the dark corners of Flambé.

Finn nips at her bottom lip, deepening the kiss, and I palm her mound, whispering as I stroke the damp fabric. “I knew you’d be back,” I breathe against her ear, her silver hair smelling of smoke and caramel. “But it was naughty of you to bring another man here.” I cluck my tongue. “We may have to punish you, so you know to whom you belong.”

Becca pulls back from Finn with a heady gasp, her lips bruised purple. “This is—” she mumbles, looking around flustered. There are others sneaking glances at us, or more accurately, at Becca. “We’re—”

Too public.

She’s right, even though heat shoots straight to my cock at how perfectly Finn and I are staking our claim and telling every guy in this restaurant to fuck off.

“Do you like knowing they wish they were us?” I ask, my nose still in her hair. “Do you like knowing every man at the bar wants to know how far up those poppy tattoos go?” I slip my hand higher, hooking my fingers around the elastic band at her hip. “Or maybe that’s me,” I admit, wrapping the band around my fingers and threatening to snap that bit of fabric off her right now. “Maybe I’m the one who’s eager to kiss every blossom until you’re coming on my face.”

Becca whimpers and reaches for her drink, taking a long, thirsty sip. My eyes connect with Finn’s as apple vodka coats her mouth, soaking her tongue, and burning down her throat.

“Take me somewhere less public,” Becca requests, my fingers threatening to rip off her thong as I brush my thumb back and forth over the feeble elastic. “A dark corner somewhere, and I’ll show you exactly where those tattoos go.”

“God, you’re naughty,” Finn praises, his golden eyes flickering with need.

“That’s what you like about me, isn’t it?” she asks, and I twist the elastic of her panties around my knuckles in retaliation, pulling the fabric so taught she gasps as the satin rides into the place where she’s slick.

Finn’s hand grips her hair, pulling her head back before his mouth devours her like the chocolate rose he fed her the other night. I stroke her sensitive folds with my thumb, her thong wedged between them. Her resolve is melting, and I can’t believe how beautiful and perfect she is, eager for me to command her into the dark, where I can worship her properly.

“As hot as this fucking is—” A female voice breaks into my consciousness, “—you need to stop right now.”

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