Page 94 of The Sun & Her Burn

Together.

And both within my reach.

As if sensing the change in mood, the DJ dropped a sultry mix that had everyone rushing the dance floor around us. People clung to each other, writhing and sweaty, hands in the air, hips thrown from side to side.

The tide of humanity carried us farther down the dark stream of temptation.

I bent my head to watch as Sebastian’s dusky hand moved from Linnea’s belly up, up to the lower swell of her breast, his thumb rubbing the curve. I could feel his hot gaze on me as I watched him touch her.

Never one to shy away from a sexual game, I picked up his thrown gauntlet and hitched her thigh up around mine, the split in the back of her dress giving me access to her bare skin.

Linnea’s eyes were almost slumberous as she undulated between us, a high flush on her cheeks, lips swollen as if they had already been kissed savagely.

I took the cue, rocking forward to claim that parted mouth with mine. She groaned against my tongue, hauling me closer with the hand in my shirt.

I groaned when I realized Sebastian was palming her throat, tipping her chin higher for my kiss with his thumb.

“That’s it,” he crooned, voice lower than the thrumming bass so that only we could hear the Italian-soaked words. “Let Adam take care of you with his talented mouth.”

Linnea sucked in a sharp breath and went languid against us, meltingly soft.

I wanted to lift her into my arms and slide into her right there on the dance floor. Fuck her back and forth on Sebastian’s cock and my own like a metronome set to this sexy beat.

“Fuck you taste like sunshine and sin,” I said after wrenching myself away from her mouth, trailing my lips down her neck to where Sebastian’s hand held her throat.

I nipped my teeth around his knuckles and watched his grip spasm.

Rearing back, I looked at them both, panting hard, eyes blown to black with arousal and thought for the first time in way too fucking long—fuck the consequences.

“Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes,” I demanded, my own voice filled with gravel.

Linnea roused herself enough to straighten and arch a brow in a mockery of me.

“Meetmein five minutes in Sinclair’s office down the hall to the right,” she amended. “Giselle told me I could borrow it earlier. Boys bathrooms are gross.”

And then she tossed her wavy mane over one shoulder and glided off the dance floor toward the exit.

Sebastian and I both watched, captivated, until she had disappeared from sight.

In her wake, we were left only with a crackling tension and a sense of imminent danger, as if we stood on the edge of high precipice in a lightning storm just waiting for a fork of electricity to land.

It was, it almost embarrassed me to admit,terrifying.

Because I was experiencing true, brain-melting, soul-crushing desire when I had not wanted for anything in years.

I had forgot how it impacted the body, setting every atom buzzing, every thought blinking in and out like static so I couldn’t bloody think straight.

“Adamo,” Sebastian said in husky Italian.

This was new, the Italian way of addressing me, and I found I had a weakness for it as I always had for the way he muttered both filthy and beautiful things in his native tongue.

Sebastian’sAdamowas a different man than I had been and even than I was now.

He was who I would desperately love to become.

“I have been drinking tonight,” I said, a little woodenly.

Because it was an excuse.