Empty.
Roman, Dean, and Chloe were already seated on a plush curved couch, their silhouettes carved out by the low amber lighting. A bottle of champagne rested in a silver bucket, sweating and untouched. Chloe was all teeth—smiling like she’d already won. Dean looked relaxed, his arm slung behind her. But his eyes were on me.
So were Roman’s.
Except his weren’t greedy. They were… dangerous. Heavy. A storm brewing.
Then the music started. Sultry. Dark. Heavy bass and pure s*x. Something about rolling up the partition.
Dean blinked like he wasn’t sure I was real. Leaning forward on his elbows to get a better view.
Chloe stiffened. Mouth agape.
Roman—Jesus. His legs spread. Hands gripped his thighs. Eyes black. His chest rose and fell like he’d just run a mile. But he didn’t move. No
