Hottest Mess (S.I.N. #2)(20)

I flash a lopsided smile. “Are you texting to ask her?”

“Funny, but no. I have a few ideas. And we have about five minutes until I tell you what they are.” He steps back and leans casually against the desk, then slowly looks me up and down, my senses firing beneath the weight of that heavy, heated gaze.

When he finally meets my eyes, his are dark with passion, and this time I’m certain that the reason his cock is straining against his jeans is because he wants me. “Five minutes,” he repeats. “I wonder what we can do in five minutes. Unless you’re still mad at me?”

“I’m getting less mad,” I admit, taking a single step toward him.

“You should trust me.”

I take another step. “I do.”

“Recent events would suggest otherwise.”

I stop walking, leaving me about one long stride away from him.

“I guess I was a bad girl,” I say, then reach back and slide my hands down over my rear. “Maybe I should be punished.” I draw my hands back up, lifting the skirt as I do, exposing my bare ass—but not to him. I’m facing him. So all Dallas has is imagination, and if the expression on his face is any indication, he’s using it.

“Maybe you ought to bend me over your knee.” I take a step closer so that the front of my skirt brushes his knees. “Maybe you should spank me, slide your finger inside me, and see if I like it when you punish me.”

I hold his gaze as I take one hand and slide it between my legs. I sigh with pleasure, and it is most definitely not an act. I’m hot and slick and I want him desperately. And when I pull my hand free, I lift my finger to his lips. “Yeah,” I say. “I think I like it.”

I ease my finger into his mouth, and he sucks so hard I feel the thrum of it all the way down to my now throbbing *. He pulls me closer, his hands squeezing my ass as his mouth teases my finger, and right then all I want to do is scream for him to move that finger to my clit and please, please make me come.

Instead, I jump at the sharp rap at the door.

He yanks his hands away, then brushes my skirt down into place.

Five minutes my ass, I think, and I’m feeling pretty damn cheated when the door opens and Liam steps in.

His eyes go straight to us. Me between Dallas’s legs. Dallas’s arms around me.

“You invite me up here for a peep show? ’Cause as pretty as both of you are, I’m still not keen on watching my two best friends go at it.”

I give him a wry look. “I know exactly how you feel. I wasn’t at all interested in watching a show tonight, either.”

Liam frowns. “What am I missing?”

Dallas pulls me closer, his arms circling my waist. “My sidepiece ended up in my bed.”

I see Liam’s mouth twitch as he looks at me.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t even say it.”

“Uninvited,” Dallas clarifies.

“So, what? You brought me up here to be the bouncer?”

“Actually, yeah. Jane told her she’d gotten a text from our parents. I thought you could go in and tell her I had to leave.”

Liam shakes his head as if amused by the deception. Then he shrugs. “Why the hell not? Darcy’s already left.”

Behind me, I feel Dallas cringe.

I frown, then turn in his arms to gape at him. “But I thought talking to Darcy was the whole point. Of this party and everything.”

He looks at me steadily. “My plans changed.”

“You came after me.” I exhale as I realize what he sacrificed to reassure me. “Shit. I’m sorry. I—”

“So make it up to us,” Liam interrupts.

“What?”

“Why don’t you talk to Darcy?”

Dallas scowls. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It makes sense,” Liam says. “She can tell him it’s research. Hell, she can ask questions a lot easier than you can. She’s writing a book, so of course she’d want to pry out every bit of information about Deliverance that she can.”

The moment he says it, I know that he’s right. I’ve made a living writing true crime articles and books about kidnapping victims. My most recent book is even going to be a movie, and the one I’m currently researching and writing is about the dangers of vigilante groups such as the one run by a violent mercenary, Lionel Benson, and, yes, Deliverance.

Granted, at the time I started writing the book, I’d been unaware of who was behind Deliverance. I’d simply known that the organization existed. And I’d gotten the idea for the title of my work-in-progress from Henry Darcy’s revelation as to the group’s name—Code Name: Deliverance.

I’m still writing the book, but I have to admit that my perspective has changed. Benson is undoubtedly motivated by the money. The prick would happily sacrifice one victim to save another whose parents are paying his bill. But Deliverance is different. I know, because I know Dallas. I know Liam. And I know what drives them.

But that doesn’t mean I’m one hundred percent on board with the idea of a vigilante group at all, even one with a conscience. There are still rules. There are still procedures. And Deliverance skirts all of them.

Sometime soon, Dallas and I are going to have to sit down and talk more fully about what he does—and about how it works. He’s promised me no secrets, and he’s told his team he’s bringing me into the loop. So far, I haven’t pushed. For one thing, it’s only been about a week since I even learned the truth. But for another, I’m not entirely sure that I want to know the details. Because at my core, I’m afraid that if Dallas really does find our kidnappers, I’m not going to give a f*ck about due process. Because all I want is to see them dead.