Page 30 of Cruel Games

I shrugged. “They’re both easy on the eye, and I wouldn’t mind getting off at their expense. My biggest worry is that they’ll take their revenge out on Gideon for anything I do to them tonight.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Gideon placed a hand on my shoulder. “If they decide to tell everyone, I’ll deal with the fallout.”

“Will you be alright, going home on your own?” I asked.

Gideon nodded. “When Wank closes, we’re booking a room at the Clyde, and then we’ll have breakfast in town before I catch the bus.”

Lachlan slipped me a business card that indicated he was a personal trainer and the manager of a gym in Glasgow. “Here’s my number in case you’re worried about your friend.”

A relieved breath slid from my lips. I’d been to enough clubs, met enough blokes to know that Gideon would be safe with Lachlan. The personal trainer gave off good vibes. I offered them a wave and a wide smile. “Have a great night.”

Gideon smiled back. “Good luck.”

I strutted out of the chill-out room, through the main dance floor that played garage music, and to the nu-jazz room. I glanced around, looking for signs of Maxwell when Orlando approached me from the bar.

He had gelled his dishwater-blond hair back to tame its wild curls and wore a sleeveless, leather shirt with shoulder loops that looked like it had been painted onto his sculpted chest. Handcuffs dangled from each side of his leather pants, making him look like a big, bad, baby dom.

I let my gaze rove down his athletic form. What a pity his personality didn’t match his perfect looks.

Raising his brows, Orlando offered me one of his two bottles of lager. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Thanks.” I took one of the bottles and took a nice long swig. The crisp liquid fizzled down my throat, adding to the buzz of the vodka cocktail. “Didn’t Maxwell tell you he’d seen me? I danced with him earlier.”

A look of discomfort crossed his features. The kind of grimace that meant he regretted being caught in such an unnecessary lie. “Are you here alone?”

“I am now.”

An arm snaked around my waist, its hand landing above my hip. “You’re with us, now.”

I turned to Maxwell and gave him my best fake smile. “What’s this, a knight sandwich?”

“We can be anything you want.” He plucked the bottle from my loose fingers and downed the drink in one long gulp.

Maxwell dragged me to the dance floor, where we continued slow, writhing movements to a languid bluesy number with a heavy bass. This time, Orlando joined me from behind, his large, warm hands circling my waist.

I rested my head against his shoulder, enjoying the feel of the treacherous twats and fine-tuning how I would make their plan to humiliate me backfire.

Maxwell bent his neck and murmured into my ear, “You look so fucking hot like that.”

His breath tickled my ear and neck, sending pleasant tingles to my core. My lips curled into a smile. It was so hard to go from fucking Sammy twice a day to having only my fingers to keep me satisfied. I couldn’t even use memories of previous shags for inspiration because I despised the two-timing rat.

“You feel so good.” Orlando’s hardness pressed into my ass. I imagined it sliding through my folds, filling and stretching my pussy until I fell off that precipice of pleasure. My core muscles clenched around nothing, a reminder of my need.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he growled.

The music changed to a frantic drum beat with a floaty saxophone solo. I lost myself in the melody, reached behind me, and pulled Orlando’s head down to my neck. Now I had two sets of lips kissing, licking, and sucking my sensitive flesh. My eyes fluttered closed, and I melted into his hard body.

Maxwell’s hand cupped the side of my face, and he pressed his lips on mine. Sparks shot from where our flesh touched, and my nipples tightened. I wrapped my other arm around his broad back, bringing us closer.

“I wanted to do this to you the moment we met,” Maxwell said before slipping his tongue between my lips.

“Uh.” The noise reverberated in the back of my throat, but it got muffled by Maxwell’s kiss.

He devoured me with his lips and teeth and tongue as the double bass boomed through the speakers and made my nerve endings thrum. How long had it been since I’d been touched like this? It felt like an eternity.

“I want you.” Orlando cupped my breasts and rubbed both thumbs over my nipples.

I moaned, urging him to do more. To slip a hand beneath my dress, pull my lace panties to one side, and touch me where I needed him most.