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But Lachlan motions with a nod of his chin in the direction of the backseat. “I keep a blanket in the back in case of emergencies.”

I reach for the handle and yank open the door. My foot braces on the board as I bend across the seat. My fingers reach for the neatly folded blanket straight across the other side. A thin, felt spread in dark gray. I snag the corner between two fingers, having to go up on my tiptoes for that much.

I’m so focused on my task, I jump when twin sets of hands clamp down on my hips and shove. My body slides up the smooth leather. My feet slip off the board. I’m dangling. Suspended, with my skirt bunched up around my waist.

“What...?”

My protest is silenced by the same hands dragging my panties down. Not entirely. Not at first. They’re left tucked just beneath the curve of my backside.

Molten heat crawls across my skin as I realize they’re staring at my exposed flesh and I can’t even do anything about it without falling out of the truck. I try to fold my knees over, cross them, tuck them. Anything to shield. All my efforts get me is thedetachment of my slippers. Both tumble to the dirt somewhere far below.

“You look perfect, bent over like this,” Van drawls.

A finger catches the rolled up panties and drags them the rest of the way to my ankles and over my feet.

“Van...” I grunt, breathing short around the hard edge of the seat digging into my abdomen.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you have such a pretty pussy,” Lachlan groans.

I realize with some faint humor that this is the first time they’re actually seeing it. Still, as delighted as I am that it’s appealing, being watched so closely has me shifting. Legs kicking, fighting to find purchase.

“Please let me up,” I plead, feet arching, toes pointed in search of the board.

“Not yet,” Van taunts. “We’re deciding what to do with you now that we have you so ... available.”

I blink. “What?”

“You heard him,” Lachlan murmurs, voice warm and smooth as velvet. “Just stay still and let us think how we’re going to use that pretty hole.”

The area in question clenches. I feel the rush of heat and I pray they can’t see the amount of it gathering in anticipation.

“I don’t think she knows how filthy she looks like this,” Van muses. “Bent over, pussy bared and wet for us to do with whatever we want.”

I stifle my moan into the sticky leather pressed into my cheek. It’s worse when I feel the pull of gravity drawing the moisture down. My knee jerks like I can somehow stop it from dripping.

“Don’t move, Everly,” Van warns, hand landing on my lower back, firm and immobilizing.

“Please,” I beg stupidly, knowing it will do nothing.

A finger drags through my slick folds. Slow and deliberate. Coaxing and taunting.

I choke on a groan. My entire body convulses.

Lachlan laughs, short and brittle. “You are dripping. We haven’t even done anything.”

A different finger, not the one lightly rubbing my clit, pushes inside with maddening slowness.

“Such a greedy little whore.” Van huffs a chuckle. “Do you want a cock to fill you up?”

I clench involuntarily and both men snicker as they toy with me. As they pump and flick in unison. Perfect harmony. Like they’ve done this so often it’s second nature. Their combined torment turns my body into a landmine of nerves. Every taunt, every stroke, every brush of their lips up the backs of my thighs, across my backside has me teetering.

“You’re shaking.” Van sinks his teeth into the inside of my thigh, eliciting a cry from me before he soothes it with his tongue. “You okay, baby?”

“No,” I whimper.

“No?” Van echoes with dark amusement. “Then why does your pussy keep pulsing like it’s ready to come all over our fingers?”

He stretches me around a second digit and I sob. I buck. My entire body shoves down on the intrusion. Impaling myself on him.