Page 18 of Ensnared

Ican’t help but sink into him.Justa little.Helets me, but the decadent silk on silk press of my body against his isn’t as relaxing asIthought it would be.He’stoo warm.Toofirm.Hesmells too much like the books that kept my imagination vivid and awake through these last four lonely years.

“Oh, that’s quite all right,”Isay, my voice on the wrong side of breathy. “It’s, well, it’s surprisingly hard to hear, but it’s not likeIexpected help to arrive after all this time.I’mnot quite that naive.”Ishake my head. “I’mokay.I’msorry.”

“Hm.”Hecups my chin in those long, elegant fingers, butIcan’t be snared in those eyes again.Itry to turn my face but end up rubbing my cheek into his palm instead.

Hereleases a long breath, then murmurs, “Didhelp not arrive, though?”

Hebrushes his thumb over the seam of my mouth.Myeyes flutter closed as a shiver traces its way over my scalp and down my spine, andIneed to force them back open.Iblush at how intensely he regards me.Idon’t thinkI’veever met someone with such single-minded focus.Likethe whole world has just faded away and we stand together, alone in some kind of hazy, dreamy abyss.

“I—”Iclear my throat as his thumb dips briefly into the warm, slick heat of my mouth before he withdraws.Ionly just stop myself from panting. “Isuppose it did.”

Thosepretty lips take a sweet, lunate curve, and then he draws me back into motion down the hall.I’mreminded that there is, in fact, a world around us.Andthere are four other men awaiting me.Fourmen who are expecting to form a ridiculous sex pact that is slowly sounding less and less ridiculous with every momentIspend inJasper’scompany.

Heleads me around a corner, deeper into the lodge.Rosylights brighten the spacious hall.Jaspermatches my slow steps patiently, in silence, until the air between us swells, growing heavy and electric.

Ihave to fight to stop my hands from fidgeting, my body tingling and pulsing with... nerves?Surelyit’s nerves.

“Youhave a lovely home,”Iblurt.

Thecurve to his lips deepens, but he says nothing.

I’mnot usually a person who needs to fill silence, but my pulse is jittery.Carbonated.It’smaking things bubble out of me.

“Sohave you lived here long?”Juststop talking,Eden.Please, for the love ofGod.

Jasperquirks a brow and lets me stew in my embarrassment for a moment, damn him.

“Yes,Ihave,” he finally says, then adds, “Thiswas my family home, and later my personal retreat, before the world disappeared.Mymother was fromGangnam-gu, inSeoul.Shefell in love with anAmericanbusinessman, my father, though she insisted that she fell in love with the scenery first.TheybuiltBristlebrook, and it was their sanctuary for many years before they retired inSeoul.”

Wepause in front of a heavy door. “Theyleft this home to me, andIwas in the process of moving here after my retirement when everything fell apart.Isuggested theRangersjoin me when it became clear we could do no good where we were.”

Ipress my lips together.There’sa bitter undercurrent in his tone.Iwant to touch him, to offer him some small comfort, butI’mscared that ifIdo,I’llend up floating away again.

Ineed to stay grounded right now.

“You’retoo young to be retired,”Isay instead of pressing.

“Itwas foolish of me, but there was somethingIthoughtIcould outrun.Inthe end, it only ended up chasing me here.”Thesmile on his lips turns cold, self-deprecating, but he grimaces. “Enoughof that.”

Thecrease deepens between my brows, andIopen my mouth, confused, but he cuts me off and pushes open the door.

“WelcometoBristlebrook,Eden.”

Thelow murmuring in the room tapers off as the door swings open and it takes a moment for me to gather my courage and step inside.Darkfloorboards span the room, covered in the center by a plush rug.Thenatural gray rock of the cliff forms the walls and ceiling of the large, cave-like room, reminding me of my last home.

Goldenlight bathes long leather couches, which frame the room on three sides.Afloor-to-ceiling television takes up the fourth, complete with gaming consoles and controllers.Onthe opposite side of the room, a raised platform behind one of the couches houses a well-stocked drink bar.It’sa complete man cave, albeit a classy one.

Luckyis sprawled far too close to the massive television, an open bottle of whiskey beside him and a game controller in his hand.Hegives me a wink whenIenter, then his eyes run over my silk shirt and color creeps into his cheeks.Heglances up atJasper, but the game draws his attention back quickly.

DomandBeauare leaning forward on the couches, heads bent together as though in mid-conversation.Ahalf-read book rests open and forgotten onDom’slap.Theyboth look up asIenter.Somethingflares inDom’seyes as he takes in my skimpy, damp shirt.

Idon’t recognize the fourth man by the bar but this has to be the mysteriousJaykob.AsIwatch, he cracks a bottle open on the belt of his jeans, letting the bottle top fall to the floor as he takes a drag.

Ipurse my lips.Hehad better be planning on picking that up.

Theman is tall, aboutBeau’sheight, but stockier with it.Hisface is rough-hewn—rawly attractive rather than classically handsome.Hehas elaborate, full-sleeve tattoos on both thickly muscled arms and his once-whiteT-shirt strains across his chest; it’s dirtied with some sort of black paint.Notthat he seems the artistic type.Despitehis stillness, his eyes hold a kind of dangerous turbulence that makes me uneasy... even asIwonder what kissing him might be like.

Whatmaybe more than kissing him might be like.

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