Wild (The Ivy Chronicles #3)(4)

Annie took a drink from him. Bringing it to her lips, she muttered, “You’re a bucket of fun, aren’t you?”

“What’s over there?” I pointed to where a group congregated on one side of the loft.

“Let’s find out.” Annie wove through the crowd, smiling and stopping to greet people she knew. At one point, she halted and engaged in a long, sloppy-wet kiss with a guy. Gag. When they came up for air, a long string of spit connected them before breaking.

He turned his attention on me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hello, there, I’m Roger.”

He extended a hand and I shook it. Smiling, he bent his head, tugging me closer by the hand, clearly intending to kiss me, too.

I flattened a hand to his chest and pushed him away with a tight smile. Yeah, not happening.

Shrugging, he moved on.

Annie laughed. “Uh, you do know you’re at a kink club, right?”

I nodded and then shrugged. “Yeah. That doesn’t mean I have to be indiscriminating, right? Besides, my tetanus isn’t up-to-date.”

“You’re such a prude.” Laughing, she rolled her eyes and led us to the herd of people. Some stood and a few sat huddled cozily together in plump armchairs, cheering and chanting and holding their drinks aloft in salute.

As we approached, I saw that they surrounded a pool table. I stood on my tiptoes and peered between the bodies, catching a glimpse of some movement on top of the pool table. Bodies. There were bodies on top of the pool table. Instantly, I cringed, hoping they didn’t tear the felt. Then I cringed again, shaking my head that my first concern was for the pool table.

“Oooh, I gotta see this.” Annie squeezed between two bodies. I followed, able to look over her head. I was average height, but in my boots, I was at least six inches taller than her.

My jaw dropped. Two girls were on their backs, shoulders touching, side by side on the pool table. A single guy was poised over them, his knees planted firmly between their thighs. He kissed one of them. Then the other. He took turns, moving back and forth between them. Deep, slow kisses that looked nothing like the kiss I just witnessed between Annie and Roger. He took his time with each girl, taking her face between his hands and holding it in a way that was both tender and firm. Confident and sexy. A man who knew what he was doing.

I couldn’t even see his face, but I thought he was hot. A powerful back flexed beneath the fabric of his shirt. His forearms were strong-looking, too. Corded with tendons. Lightly dusted with hair. Something tugged low in my belly in response to him.

Suddenly, someone stood in front of me holding a bucketful of raffle tickets. Annie took one and nudged me to do the same. Without tearing my gaze from the debauched scene, I took a ticket.

The other girl waiting for her turn slid her hand under the guy’s black T-shirt and dragged the fabric up so her red fingernails could stroke his bare shoulder. I was right. Holy sexy back. It was broad and muscled. The expanse of smooth, tanned skin made my mouth dry and water alternately. She touched her mouth to his back, her tongue darting out to taste him.

My face flamed and I shifted on my feet self-consciously, horrified that I was getting turned on watching this intimate scene. I was unable to look away. I continued to gawk at the guy. I ignored the girls. I watched him. The way he kissed—like his whole being was focused on the act. The way the bottom of his spine dipped was sexy as hell. His jeans rode low, hugging an ass that looked like it could bounce quarters. Just the sight made my stomach muscles clench and twist. And that was a wholly new experience.

A James Taylor song slid on. A hard and fierce beat. His powerful vocals a demanding, urgent wail that added to the tension swirling in the air.

The guy on the pool table lifted up from the lucky recipient of his attentions then. Still on his knees, straddling the one, he twisted around to face the girl who was kissing his back. He took her face in both his hands and that’s when I spotted the full, rocking, masculine beauty of his features.

And my world stopped.

I sucked in a breath as recognition sliced through me. It was Logan. Logan Mulvaney. Reece’s little brother. Reece, as in Pepper’s boyfriend. Logan as in only eighteen and still in high school. About to graduate but still in high school. And here he was. At a kink club.

The fire in my cheeks intensified. This must be what it felt like a split second before spontaneous combustion. Mortification washed over me as I realized I was getting all hot and bothered over a guy I had no business feeling that way about. Off-limits was putting it mildly. It didn’t matter that the guy had more experience than I did. He had seen and done more sexually than I probably ever would. Rumor was he had already slept his way through the female undergrad population of Dartford and was moving on to grad students now.

I was on the verge of turning and fleeing when his eyes locked on mine.

Hello, awkward.

Now he knew I had seen him. How could I ever act normal when our paths crossed over the course of the next few decades? And yeah, I had no doubt that our paths would cross that long into the future. Pepper and Reece would probably get married and I’d see this guy a couple times a year. First at the requisite wedding events, then the baby baptisms. Birthdays. Holidays. Each time I clapped eyes on him, I would recall this mortifying moment. And I’d know he would be recalling it, too. Damn it, where was the rewind button for tonight?

“Ohmigod! It’s Logan!” Annie gave a little hop beside me the moment she spotted his face.