Page 81 of Captive of Outlaws
“Mm.” Rob rubs his jaw. “I suppose we could work out some way to settle things. Even the score, perhaps.”
I shiver.
Maybe it’s the liquor, maybe it’s the absolute insanity of all that’s been revealed, maybe it’s the fact that I’m quite literally not who I thought I was, but I feel bold. I stand up.
“You know, you’re right,” I say to Rob.
He cocks an eyebrow.
“About my dress,” I go on. “It’s not getting any drier.”
I want to sound confident, seductive, but I can hear the tremble in my voice. Still, the words are out. I’ve said it. And for a moment, I’m terrified I’ve gone too far, pushed the limit.
But no.
“She should probably get out of it,” Will says.
“Here.” Rob steps behind me, and I feel his fingers at the top hem, between my shoulderblades. He pauses there, his touch fiery on my skin even as his hand is still cool from the water.
“What?” I turn my head slightly to try and see him, heart hammering.
“The zipper,” Rob says, low and husky. “I assume you’ll need some help.”
Is this really happening?
My throat tightens again, too much to speak, so I simply nod. Anticipation is electric over my skin, like I’ve toucheda live wire. I feel the tug of his grip sliding the zipper down, down, down my spine, the dress petaling smoothly open and exposing my back to the night air.
Instinctively, I curl my arms up into my chest, holding the bodice so it doesn’t tumble down around my hips.
“Need help with that too?” Rob murmurs, his fingers now finding the small of my back, his body drawing closer to mine.
“Maybe,” I whisper. “Yeah.”
“Scarlet.” It’s more command than request from Rob, coming in the same breath as him pressing up against me and brushing his lips lazily against my neck.
I glance up slightly. Will is chewing his lip, arms crossed, considering, but quickly sighs and relaxes. “Ah, hell. I’m five whiskeys deep and half hard already.” He strides over to face me and takes my wrists in his hands. “Show us, beautiful.”
“Mhm.” It’s all I can manage, a whimpered assent, but it’s enough for him. As Rob nips at my neck again—harder—Will pries apart my willing arms, inches his fingers under the straps of the dress, and glides them down my shoulders.
The dress peels away from me, leaving only the bra that I’d picked out from Jack’s collection: midnight blue, with two straps that crisscross between my breasts and sheer chiffon cups that strain against my stiff nipples.
“Oh, God.” Will sucks in a breath. “Yes.”
Eyes half-lidded, he catches his lip in his teeth again and plunges forward, opening to enrobe first one lace-crested peak, then another, in the sweet, soft heat of his mouth.
“Unh.” I jerk at the sensation, almost involuntarily, flooded by it, by the need for more—of it, of him, of everything—but no sooner do I move than Rob’s hands are at my waistfrom behind, shimmying the dress past my hips and down, at last, to the ground.
“There,” he says, to the other two as much as to me. “There she is.”
“Perfect,” Will mutters, and bends to suck my left nipple again, the velvet warmth of his tongue contrasting with the scrape of the lace. Rob’s hand finds the right, his fingers swirling around the tip until it’s pebble-hard and aching.
“Can I...” Tuck’s voice is thick from where he’s knelt beside me, his knuckles gently brushing my right hip, just shy of the strap of my matching lace thong.
Will pulls away with a grin, leaving a dark, damp circle where his mouth was. “Tuck, please. Letherbeg for it.”
“Don’t stop!” I cry, surprised at how forceful my voice sounds. Rob chuckles into my neck, massaging my breast inside the cup of the bra, teasing me even as Will eyes me, refusing to give me what I want.
“See what I mean?” he says to Tuck.
