The cherry lingered on my tongue, sugar and heat tangling with the far more dangerous taste of their attention.
Maddox licked the fork slow, his gaze never leaving mine. “See? Sweeter when someone feeds you.”
I wanted to snap back, wanted to shove the fork away, but Jaxon leaned closer, his thigh pressing firmly against mine under the table. His scent - dark spice, smoke, pure wolf - wrapped around me until my lungs forgot how to work.
Rafe’s hand brushed against mine again, firmer this time. Not accidental. He left it there, knuckles grazing, waiting.
And Calder… Calder was a storm barely leashed, his gaze heavy enough to pin me to the booth. His jaw flexed, the cords in his neck standing taut, as if holding back the urge to rip me out of this seat and claim me in front of everyone.
