Page 29 of Vengeful Melodies (Heaven’s Guilt Revenge Tour Duet #1)

I want to say no. But my voice betrays me. “Maybe I want in on that.”

The space tightens instantly. Bash’s grin deepens, and Kaiser’s lips curve into something darker. He doesn’t kiss me—no, that would be too easy. Instead, he lifts his hand and skims the backs of his fingers along my jaw, down the side of my neck, just barely grazing the line where my pulse hammers.

“Careful, Siren,” he murmurs. “We might take you up on that.”

Bash shifts behind me, his chest brushing my back. His hand lands at my hip, thumb stroking slow circles over the thin fabric of my skirt, the motion lazy but loaded. I suck in a breath I hope they can’t hear.

Kaiser steps closer, his thigh sliding between mine—not pressing, just close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes drop to my mouth like he’s studying the way I breathe.

Bash’s breath ghosts against my ear, making me shiver. “You’re blushing, Songbird. Wonder what you’d look like if we really touched you.”

My grip tightens around the metal railing behind me. I don’t trust my knees to keep me upright.

Kaiser’s fingertips graze just under the hem of my shirt, tracing a slow path along the bare skin above my hip before retreating—infuriatingly slow. Bash mirrors him, sliding his hand along my thigh but stopping just shy of where I want him most.

It’s maddening.

I feel caged in, every nerve on high alert, but they never cross the line. Just graze. Tease. Linger. Like they know exactly how close they can get without breaking me.

Takoa’s voice cuts through the thick air—calm, cool, but edged with something that makes me bite my lip. “Enough. She’s already halfway undone.”

Kaiser pulls back half an inch, but his smile is pure sin. Bash laughs softly, his thumb pressing once into my hip before he lets go.

I meet Takoa’s eyes in the mirrored wall. “I never say anything I don’t mean,” I tell him.

His gaze holds mine like a promise.

The elevator dings open, but I’m still trembling inside. We step out, and all I can think about is how badly I want them to finish what they started—and how much worse it’s going to get when we’re alone upstairs.

Alix pulls the keycard from his back pocket and slides it into the reader.

The lock clicks, and the suite door swings open to reveal a stretch of floor-to-ceiling windows spilling city light across a massive velvet sectional, a gleaming bar stocked like a backstage greenroom, and Los Angeles glittering below like it’s on fire.

But I don’t see any of it.

I see them. I feel them.

That same heat from the elevator clings to me, wrapping around my ribs like a vice. My pulse hasn’t slowed. My skin still hums where they touched me, and the worst part is—they know.

I walk in first, trying to keep my head high, even as my knees feel traitorous. They follow like a pack—tattooed, loud without saying a word, the air shifting under the weight of their presence. Wolves pretending they’re not hunting.

Bash drops onto the sectional and sprawls out like he owns the whole damn place, but his eyes never leave me. He crooks a finger toward the bar. “Pour us something, Songbird. I want to see how steady those hands really are.”

Kaiser brushes past me on his way to the window, his arm grazing mine, his palm skimming the small of my back just long enough to make my breath catch. It’s not an accident.

Takoa lingers near the door, arms folded, watching everything—me most of all—like he’s deciding whether to intervene or to make it worse.

Alix moves to the bar himself, pouring something amber and strong into four glasses, but when he hands me mine, his fingers curl just enough to trap mine on the glass. His thumb strokes over my knuckles, slow, deliberate. “Drink, Dreya,” he says softly. “You look like you need it.”

The rim of the glass is cool against my lips, but the whiskey burns all the way down. I set it on the counter, turning to find Kaiser suddenly closer than before, the city lights painting sharp lines over his jaw.

“You still flushed,” he says, and he’s not asking. His fingers toy with the hem of my shirt, tugging it just enough to expose another inch of skin before letting go.

Bash chuckles from the couch. “Careful, Kaiser. She might beg if you keep that up.”

“Would she?” Kaiser asks, eyes locked on mine.

I swallow hard, but the sound is too loud in my own ears. My mouth opens—no idea what I’m about to say—but Bash beats me to it, patting the seat beside him. “Come sit, Little Songbird.”

When I cross the room, he doesn’t give me space. His arm slides along the back of the couch, his knee pressing against mine the moment I sink into the cushions. Kaiser sits on my other side, close enough that his thigh is warm against me.

They don’t touch me outright. They just… close in.

Every lean forward brushes an arm, every low laugh sends warm breath across my ear, every glance makes my stomach drop. I’m caught between them, caged without hands on me, but my body can’t tell the difference.

I try to focus on the skyline beyond the glass. But all I can feel is the way Kaiser’s knee nudges mine under the table, the way Bash’s fingers ghost over the back of my neck, the way Takoa’s reflection in the window hasn’t moved from the door.

This hotel suite might be the safest place on the map. But tonight? Tonight, it’s a warzone of want.

And I already know I’m going to lose.