Page 53 of The Money Shot
“We made out,” I blurted, as if ripping off a Band-Aid. “But nothing happened! I swear. We were too drunk to even—”
“Wait.” Jack held up a hand, his voice sharp now. “You made out with Bradley? As in our Bradley?”
“Uh…yeah?” I replied, my voice small.
Jack blinked at me, his jaw tightening. For a second, I thought he was going to explode. Instead, he let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
“Let me get this straight,” he said, his tone laced with disbelief. “You made out with Bradley ‘Wellington’ Mitchell, and you’re just now telling me this?”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed again. “Jack, come on, it was years ago! And, like I said, nothing happened.”
“You what?” he repeated, his voice rising an octave.
“Jack, relax!” I said, patting his arm. “I snuck out of his room before sunrise, and we never talked about it again. No harm, no foul.”
Jack just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he let out a breath and pulled me closer, his arm tightening around me.
“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but his voice was softer now, almost affectionate.
I looked up at him, half-smiling. “So…you’re not mad?”
“Oh, I’m mad,” he said, leaning in to kiss me. “But not for the reasons you think.”
Before I could ask what he meant, his lips were on mine, and all thoughts of Bradley vanished. As our kiss deepened, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer.
When we finally broke apart, Jack rested his forehead against mine. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his eyes searching mine.
“I do?”
One of Jack’s hands slid down my stomach, and when it was an inch away from my cock, he stopped.
“Don’t,” I murmured.
“Don’t what?” Jack’s fingers slid down some more, and a moment later, he wrapped his palm around my cock and squeezed.
“Stop,” I gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”
Jack brushed his lips across my cheek, then he winked at me. “Where’s all those toys you bought, Lucien?”
I blinked, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Then it hit me. The sex toys.
“In the closet,” I murmured. “Is there something you want to play with?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jack
The second Liam said, “Is there something you want to play with?” my brain short-circuited. Still fuming a little over the Bradley confession, I got out of bed, grabbing a pillow on my way and lobbing it at Liam’s head. He ducked, giggling like he wasn’t currently the most infuriating person alive.
“I’ll find something to play with, all right,” I muttered, stomping over to the closet.
The moment I opened the door, I froze. Sitting there, innocently tucked in plain paper bags like they contained nothing more scandalous than a few groceries, was a veritable treasure trove of sex toys.
I knelt down and pulled one of the bags open. Sexy underwear in every color of the rainbow. Another bag held an assortment of dildos, vibrators, and—for some inexplicable reason—a pair of handcuffs that looked like they belonged in a police procedural.
“What the hell, Lucien?” I said, turning to look at him.
He poked his head out from under the blanket and gave me a sheepish grin. “I didn’t think we’d use them all at once!”