Fatal Felons (Saint View Prison #3)

Mae wiggled a finger in my direction, inviting me to come dance with her, but I shook my head. She pouted but went back to dancing. Rowe, sweat dripping from his temple, pulled his shirt off and moved his shoulders in time with beat, drink sloshing slightly in one hand.

Heath wasn’t done with his pep talk. “And Rowe… He was the first one over at your place this morning. I have no doubt that he would have busted down your door this afternoon if the Ripley emergency hadn’t come up. What he and I have is physical. I get you two don’t share that, but what you do have is friendship.” He nudged me with an elbow. “Things went to shit with your family. I get that. My family is fucked up, too. But what Rowe said about this? Us being a family? He’s not the only one feeling it.”

Heath leaned forward and grabbed another can from the cooler then shoved it into my hand. He grinned widely at me. “Now drink that and put something slow and romantic on so I can go grind up on my girl.”

He left the phone with me, and I did as requested, switching to an Ed Sheeran song that changed the mood entirely.

Family.

I wanted it to be true so badly.

But a burning need for vengeance simmered in my gut, too hot to be ignored.

One night.

When the sun rose, I’d do what I had to do and let the cards fall where they may.





17





Mae





I closed my eyes and rolled my hips in time with the beat of the music. The rhythm pounded through me, aided by the two beers I’d downed. I had enough natural rhythm to sing, but it didn’t really extend to dancing. But out here, with the night sky full of stars, a bonfire, and three sinfully good-looking men who all had their attention on me, I’d never cared less that I wasn’t going to win any dance competitions.

All the anxieties of the last few days and weeks and months poured out through flinging my body around with Rowe and laughing until my face hurt.

He spun me around with his free hand, gazing at me with such complete and utter adoration that I almost couldn’t breathe.

I fell into his chest, damp with sweat, despite the fact he’d shed his shirt. I ran my fingers over his abs, each ridge so perfect I wanted to lick him. He was beyond sexy when he was all glowering and grumpy, but this version of him—happy and carefree, if only for a night—was the hottest I’d seen him yet.

The song switched from punk rock to something low and slow, and the sultry voice curled through my body pleasantly. As did the way Rowe stared at me. His gaze rolled over my body, lingering on my lips, my breasts, and the sliver of skin between my top and my skirt.

A big body moved in behind me, and without glancing over my shoulder, I knew it was Heath. He pressed in close, his body melding to mine, picking up the rhythm Rowe and the music were setting. His fingers grazed my hip, holding me in place between the two of them.

“Welcome to the party.” I leaned back against him, turning my face up to his for a kiss.

“You’re too fucking sexy to sit on the sidelines.” He wrapped an arm around me, steadying my body against his chest, and dropped his lips to mine.

It was sort of upside down, but I didn’t care. The brand of his lips felt so good.

Rowe moved in even closer, his sweaty chest brushing over my breasts, my nipples beading beneath my clothes. The nearby fire crackled, letting off almost as much heat as the three of us created. A tingle took up at my core, and I had the sudden urge to start removing clothes. Whether that be from the heat of the night and the fire, or from the burn of being between two men I found irresistible.

There was something primal about being outside in the wilderness, with nobody else around for miles. It spoke to some basic part of myself that wanted her men, and wanted them now.

A tiny moan slipped from my mouth as I ground all over Rowe, hiking my skirt up so I could move better. Rowe slipped his leg between mine, and the sudden pressure against my clit was mind-blowing.

Heath groaned behind me, his fingers splayed out across my belly, sliding high across my skin, beneath my shirt and up to my breasts. He took a handful, squeezing one gently, his erection growing behind me.

“Too many clothes on,” he muttered.

With his fingers already inside my top, he pulled up, and I raised my hands so he could easily remove it. I’d worn a lacy white bra beneath, with no padding because my breasts were already plenty big enough on their own.

Rowe lowered his head and sucked my nipple through the sheer lace. The combination of his mouth and the texture of the lace was heaven. I plunged my fingers into his hair, shamelessly holding him in place while I fell back against Heath.

He made short work of the clasp on my bra, and then Rowe was sliding it down my shoulders, exposing my breasts to the night air.

I’d never felt more sexy or free.

I glanced over at Liam, who still sat on the other side of the fire. He held a bourbon in one hand, but his legs were spread wide, erection straining behind his sweatpants. He made no move to get up and join us, and I didn’t invite him again, knowing that this was what got him turned on.

I wanted to be naked for him.

With the next beat of the song, still pressed between Rowe and Heath, I slipped my fingers into the elastic of my skirt and pushed it down over my ass and thighs. By the time it neared my knees, it fell away by itself. I’d already kicked off my flip-flops and danced barefoot on the soft green grass.

Leaving me in a tiny white lace thong.

Liam’s eyes flared. He took an unsteady sip of his drink and dropped one hand to his crotch. He massaged his erection through the fabric, the outline of his dick growing the more he touched it.

I rewarded him by taking off my panties.

Heath’s hand was on my clit in an instant, his palm sitting over my mound so his fingertip could rub the little bundle of nerves.

Elle Thorpe's books