Freya shouted back, “Hey, I promised Sophie this would be like any normal get together.” Trace had always envied Freya’s ethereal cool, which could have been intimidating, especially with her confidence plus the height and grace to match, but she exuded gentleness. “Aside from the penis crown, which, by the way, I did not realize still existed.”
“I can’t hear you,” Pippa shouted back. Louder, she garnered a few glances from nearby tables when she asked, “Did you say penis?”
In the middle of the table, Grady rolled a laugh and said, “No more friends. I like all of you—Cole, you can stay—“
“Thanks,” Cole said, raising his glass and seeming to enjoy the honesty in the feigned slight.
“But there are too many of us. We can’t even hear each other across the table anymore.”
“Scoot in everyone. We’re not losing anyone,” Pippa said, the elementary school teacher persona shining through, until she snorted a laugh as they all grumbled, yet started the scooch. “Especially as I suspect I’ll be the first to go.”
Lincoln scooted closer to Pippa so they were shoulder to shoulder. “As soon as the baby gets here, we’ll be too tired to do fun things anyway, so we may as well get used to it.”
Asher reached to pat his sister on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Pip. I’ve tried to ditch you more times than I can count. You’re scrappy.”
Pippa beamed and raised her sparkling water at her brother.
Stools squeaked and the plates on the tables rattled as everyone held their drinks safely up and answered Pippa’s ongoing plea until everyone had scooted so close there wasn’t even elbow room to grab more food. At the opposite end, Zane took the now extra table and pushed it out of the way, and he and Freya capped the end of the now much smaller table.
Trace edged on her stool closer to Cole. He inched back a margin so she had room to move, and lowered his hand down to rest on the back of her stool, protectively holding her in the tight circle.
No more shouting needed, Cole looked over at Pippa and said, “I know I haven’t exactly been back long, but didn’t we graduate from party games, hell, before I even met you all?”
“I don’t know,” Lincoln said, scrunching his nose and seeming to be the only one interested. “We’ve got quite a bit of new blood since last time we triedI, Never. I can’t imagine a better game to humiliate Asher on his bachelor party than making him confess to all his dirty deeds.”
Cole stiffened at Trace’s side and stole a wary look at Asher.
Seeming to catch on, the groom-to-be shifted his arm around Sophie and cleared his throat. “No. Just… no. Let’s not. Ever again.” He and Cole shared a grin that Trace recalled had gotten them both into trouble many, many times. “Unless we play the version where purity loses.”
Zane cleared his throat. “I know I’m just meeting Cole, but I’m not sure a mercenary is going to be honest, anyway.”
Cole sat up a little straighter. “Yeah. I’m going to decline engaging in any game that is based on sharing secrets.”
“I don’t know,” Pippa said, smiling hopefully at Trace. “Grady and I would love to have another angel—“
“To go down in flames with?” Grady said, laughing with a humiliated eye-roll. “Never will I ever again.”
Cole leaned to whisper in Trace’s ear. “Bet you wouldn’t do as well as they think.”
Pulling back enough to see his expression, she realized he wasn’t kidding. “Pretty sure I made it clear that I am incredibly boring.”
“You’re not as boring as you think.” Her skin tingling as his skin warmed hers, his words isolated for her alone. “You never had a guy tell you that he’s spent the last decade fantasizing about all the ways he could get you off?”
Her breath caught in her throat as it sank in how truly X-rated his fantasies had been. The tone in his voice, calm and seductive, he didn’t seem heartbroken, but she needed to see, to know. Brushing her cheek against his, she turned to see his expression.
Before she could see his eyes, he leaned close and whispered harder, “You don’t ever get yourself so aroused thinking about black lace and trailing your tongue over the length of a certain cock that you can’t sleep?”
Now he must be joking. She feigned a huff of a laugh, waiting for him to laugh, too.
Breath hot against her ear, he asked, “You haven’t had a guy rip your panties, so desperate to take you, against the wall, or even in the middle of a tavern, because he couldn’t wait another second?”
“No,” she answered honestly, heat pumped over her skin as she pictured it.
“You’ve never had someone fuck your clit so desperately with his mouth that you forgot your own name?”
“Not that I recall,” she whispered, breathless as her imagination grew more vivid, feverish heat between her legs.
“Not yet…”
