“You don’t look bad yourselves,” I murmured, a rush of flame sweeping between my legs at their heated smiles.
I rubbed my restless palms together, counting down until we were together upstairs, lost in a haze of sex and sweat.
“Thank you for arranging the dinner and gifts. This is a beautiful venue.” I smiled at each of my mates, but it had the opposite effect, their expressions turning feral and lusty, liquifying every inch of me.
Turned inside out by their stares, I used all my self-control not to leap onto Slade or Alaric’s lap since they wedged me between them, the president at the head of the table like always. Zethan and Castor sat opposite us at the rectangular table for six.
I quickly took a gulp of water to drench the heat.
“You’re welcome, sugar,” Slade took the lead for them and replied.
“Anything for you,” Alaric added, a wildness creeping into his voice.
Zethan remained silent, but his smile, his quiet confidence, the glowing appreciation and anticipation on the bond took my lungs captive.
“I’m looking forward to dessert.” Slade’s dirty innuendo made heat dance between my legs.
Cutlery and utensils vibrated on the table from the rumble circulating between my men.
Shit.
Other patrons dined here. I smoothed the tablecloth with my palm and shot daggers with my eyes to warn them to calm down. Not their fault. My perfume was driving them crazy, and their shifters neared breaking point.
Women eyed me from other tables, whispering to their friends, dates, partners… who cared. Jealous of my four adoring men, hungry gazes tracing my body… or so I interpreted. I ate up my mates’ attention like a greedy bitch, the covetous fire in me burning so damn hot, I was surprised my chair and dress didn’t melt. These four bad boy bikers were mine, and I was taking full advantage of it.
Itches crawled along my skin, and I scratched at them, unable to relieve the irritation. Restless energy spread through my body, and I needed my mate’s touch, their lips worshiping my body, quenching the heat in me. Hell, my shifter tempted me to roll over on the ground like a damn lioness, show my belly, and welcome my mates’ bodies to crush mine. Each second my men and I pretended to be normal and eating dinner heightened my urgency. Desperate for relief, I took nibbles of the lobster, distracting my growing need.
Half-eaten meals waited to be finished, but my mates preferred something else to food. Dark heat flared in their gazes, my shifter heat perfume so strong they growled, fists clutched tightly to their thighs. It got harder for my poor men to resist flipping over the table and taking me on the floor in front of everyone and giving them a real show.
My body was in damn overdrive… hot, sweaty, crampy, overwhelming my mates with perfume to entice them, chewing up all my stamina.
I tried to steer them away from getting me naked in front of everyone. “It’s nice to be alone and spend some time with all of you.”
Castor shrugged, his foot brushing my ankle, wanting to touch me in any way when I was out of reach across the table from him. “Besides the heat, you deserved a break. Being a mom is hard work.”
“Yeah, it is, but I love it.” My heart felt complete with Mia in our lives, and I didn’t feel broken anymore. Neither did Zethan.
Alaric squeezed my hand and brushed his thumb over it.
“Fred Astaire here was gonna surprise you and sing you a song, but they didn’t have the set-up.” Slade chuckled.
I snorted. “You weren’t.”
Alaric grinned and I melted all over again. “Yeah, I was. I’m karaoke king at the club and it’s my duty to carry on the tradition.”
Oh, goddess.
Aerosmith, AC/DC, Guns ‘N Roses and Bon Jovi songs played in my head, the kind of music that thumped at club parties. The thought of him crooning to me, even if it was a rock song, got me even hotter, sweat beading down my neck.
My tits ached from heaviness, and I squirmed, needing one of my mates to massage them. Desperate for relief, I lifted the straps of my dress, bouncing them. Sighing at the brief reprieve, I stroked my neck. Wrong move… it inadvertently drew four covetous gazes to my chest.
Slade licked his lips and bounced his knee, patience waning, nervously working off his energy. His hand tightened on my thigh, expressing his equal need to get back to our room.
Castor twisted his butter knife back and forth, his foot working its way up my leg, and I crushed it between my knees to prevent him from going higher. His eyebrows kicked up at me suggestively, and I expected him to lunge at me, slash my dress down the middle, spilling my breasts free.
Alaric stroked the outside of his plate as if practicing what he’d do to my body, his keen gaze attentive to my every move and wish. When I panted from overheating, he fanned me with his napkin, dabbed my forehead with a wet cloth, or refilled my water.
Zethan tapped on his glass, and I imagined him counting down the moments until I finished my meal. He speared another piece of buttery lobster, lifting it to my lips, forcing more food in me, making every bite count. Adorable. He always had my back, the only mate more intent on getting me through my shifter heat than succumbing to my hormones, beauty, and allure.
