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I groan. She never struck me as the prick-tease type, but maybe she is. Maybe whatever’s she’s on has opened up that part of her, erased all her inhibitions. Or maybe it was the orgy room that got her all hot and bothered.
“I’m not promising a damn thing,” I say, steering her to the door. “Except getting you off the boat.”
“Did Amelia tell you?”
“Is Amelia the one who dressed you? Got your drinks?” I remember seeing the girl now, naked in that room, riding a man while she fed on the tits of a woman about twice her age. “Sent you to the orgy room?”
“To the poker room. I found the wrong one.” Then Dakota smiles and sways into me. She reaches for my cock again. “An’ you. That room was gross, but you…” She puts her hand on me, and fuck me, I’m fucking hard. “You were there. Maybe you turn me on.”
The clock’s ticking, but I want so badly to drag her to the bed. I fight the temptation with everything in me and snarl a harsh command.
“Don’t touch.”
The air crackles. She dips her head, her breath shaking. “I’m sorry. May I?”
“No.” I take her hand, regret and relief at war inside my head. Lust is standing tall, but I can ignore that one.
I throw open the door and lead her out and up to the top deck, into the lounge where people are drinking.
Some people head toward the outside deck, to where the speedboat—a fucking huge one if it’s anything like what Malone and I arrived on—waits.
Then I see him, the art creep who whacked off to me touching her outside the orgy room. He makes a beeline to us.
I pull her close and whisper, “We need to get on that boat, okay?”
“Are we playing a game?”
“Is that Dakota?” the guy says as he approaches.
I offer a bland smile. “And you are?”
“Brutus.” He narrows his beady eyes, then looks me up and down. “You’re new. You’re not trying to steal her away from us, are you?”
Shit.
SIX
dakota
I don’t like Brutus. At all. I don’t even know if I like the sexy muscled man who hasn’t even kissed me yet. Yeah, he did plenty to tease me, but he’s playing a game, and I have no idea what it is.
My head spins while they talk boats and delays and me.
Jaxson’s back faces me, so I take the opportunity to slide away. I need a freaking drink.
I liked it when we were alone, not with these leering people all over the place. I push through the crowd to get to the bar, trying to avoid groping hands. My balance is still off, and when I try to spin out of their grasp, I slam into something solid. Something that smells good, like moss and earth and dark, dangerous places.
Jaxson. It suits him and doesn’t, like I said before.
Part of me wants to be bad so he’ll touch me. Not like he is now, with an arm casually slung around me, but with hands full of intent, like he means it and…
I twist to look up at him. “I don’t want to be here.”
But it isn’t Jaxson. It’s Haydyn. He scoops me up into his arms.
“Where are you going?” he asks. “Amelia was waiting for you. You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”
“Where’s Jaxson?”
