Tony
The questions are getting a little deep, considering I haven’t gotten to see much of what she says she has on Adley. Not that I don’t believe her. It surprises me how much I want to trust her, actually. Aside from the fact that she let us in on a rather large and dangerous secret, which I am not entirely ready to process, she seems very sincere and shows all of her emotions and thoughts so clearly on her face.
Like right now, the slight pink flush making its way up her neck as she tries to pretend she isn’t completely thrown off by the heat between us. Hell, I’m thrown off, but I like to think I hide it better. Although my half hardened cock is making me regret such tight jeans.
Down, boy.
I try to diffuse my arousal by turning the attention to Quinn, who is watching us with unveiled amusement through a tiny cloud of pot smoke. My clothes are going to smell like that shit the entire way home. Note to self, next meeting at my house, so I don’t have to be hot boxed with Cheech.
“Alright, moving on. Quinn − truth or dare?”
“Mmmmm, dare,” he says, pretending like he wasn’t chomping at the bit to answer. It was obvious what he’d choose.
Except now I have to think of a dare. I don’t want to bring the party down or seem too lame after our spicy start, especially since I chose truth on my turn. Would it be weird or inappropriate to dare them to kiss so soon after making out? Do I really want to watch them make out? It’s obvious that they have a past and there’s definitely some tension there.
I’m not sure how it’ll make me feel, but I don’t think I have the right to be jealous. And there’s a big part of me that wants to watch and see how it makes me feel.
“Well, you dared Mara to kiss me, so I think you should let her compare the experience.”
“You want me to kiss you too?” Quinn gives me a cheeky smirk, raising an eyebrow flirtatiously. I’m not ready to admit that I’m curious.
“Her, dumbass.”
He takes a long drag off his joint and then jumps over the island, lifting Mara up to sit on the edge and stepping between her legs, all in one fluid motion. Unlike me, he doesn’t hesitate for a single second, grabbing her hair at the nape and pulling her face to his. He goes in for the kill, kissing her deeply enough that it wrenches a tiny moan from her chest.
I wasn’t sure how watching them would make me feel, but damn. My jeans are officially uncomfortable, and I’m not sure that it’s safe to continue this game because it’s going to hurt soon.
What surprises me the most is my reaction to Quinn. I watch the placement of his hands, the curve of his bicep, the muscles in his ass as he rolls his hips into her body. The curiosity of what his body would feel like pressed up against mine, what it would feel like to grasp a handful of his soft curls and hold his head…
I shake my head and consider whether I should drink any more.
The kiss is shorter than ours was, but far more passionate. He grips her thigh with his long fingers, pulling her more tightly against him. She gasps and ends up coughing, smoke escaping her mouth.
“You ass,” she says, swatting him, but she doesn’t seem angry. I’m not a fan of being high, but I think we’re all loosened up enough from the tequila to not take anything too seriously.
“Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to let it go,” Quinn says, looking sheepish. She responds by looking up and pressing a small kiss to the side of his mouth, letting him know she’s not upset.
Quinn picks up the bottle of tequila, taking a swig before passing it to Mara, and then to me. I hesitate, but end up taking a heavy gulp of the clear liquid, hoping it’ll help me with some of the nerves that I’m suddenly feeling.
“Mouse?”
“Hmm?” she answers Quinn, wiping a drop of liquor off her chin.
He’s still standing between her legs. “Truth or dare, Mouse?”
Her eyes darken as their gaze locks on each other. The moment is so charged that I almost feel like an interloper. I consider backing away and giving them some privacy when she answers in a whisper.
“Dare.”
I want to give them space and respect, but I’m also locked in my seat, unable to look away at the two of them. Apparently, I’m secretly into voyeurism because I cannot stop myself from watching the way they look at each other, touch each other. Quinn leans forward and whispers in her ear, watching as gooseflesh breaks out over her arms. She chokes on air a little, her gaze rising to meet mine.
Her face turns so red it’s nearly purple as she asks me, “truth or dare, Tony?”
“I thought it was your turn.”
“It is,” she says with a small voice. She repeats herself. “Truth or dare?”
There’s something about the dark look in her eyes, her flushed skin, and the way Quinn is holding his breath that makes me feel bold.
