Ohmigod.

That was the most incredible seven minutes of my fucking life!

I stand on wobbly legs and have just finished adjusting my shirt and hair when the doorknob turns. When they fling the door open, the outside light burns my eyes.

“So, Kenna? What the fuck, man? You teach her who’s boss?”

I wonder if he’s moping on the floor because he didn’t get to come, but I don’t get to worry for long. He brushes past me, fully composed. “Oh, she knows all right,” he says in a husky murmur, his buzz cut hair perfect, his entire demeanor as attractive as every rock god’s should be.

The twins snicker, and I tip my chin up as I walk past them down the hall, aware of the girls who are with them staring at me. When I turn, I see both of those girls embracing Mackenna, whining, “You don’t really like her, do you?”

He grabs their asses and squeezes. “Nah, I just like pissing her off.”

He looks back in my direction, his eyes still so ravenous they’re burning holes through me, and I’m so angry at what I just let him do—put his hands on me, his tongue in me . . . god, I was about to jerk him off in the closet!

My whole body tightens in anger as I storm into the room, slam the door, scan for something to throw, then just grab the pillow and scream.

SIX

I KNEW SHE’D SCRAMBLE MY BRAINS

Mackenna

“So, you fuck her in the closet?”

The twins? Yeah, these fuckers have had too many Jägerbombs and lemonshots. “You two fucking dickheads are going to get fucked, by me.” I shove Lex first, then Jax shoves me, and we push and shove our way into our suite.

I fall down on the couch and the girls soon follow, manicured fingers rubbing up my arms and chest.

“She’s such a bitch,” one whispers.

“She’s not that pretty either,” says the other.

My stomach writhes with need. Not that pretty? She’s all I fucking see. Right now. In my head. Dark hair, liquid dark eyes, that dark mouth of hers that apparently still makes me hard as a teenager. “Do me a favor, get me something to drink,” I whisper to the girls, and I rub the back of my neck as I wait for them to come back.

Whoa, this encounter worked you up, Jones!

Fuck her, she’s getting to me again. But I can’t let her.

“Come back so we can fuck,” I shout after them. Shutting my eyes, it’s no use. I can’t get rid of the way she looked at me, with those angry dark-as-sin eyes, that ridiculous pink streak in her hair. I’m still throbbing under the zipper of my jeans, aching for her touch.

I need to work it out of my system. I need to work her out of my system. I suck on my middle finger, and my cock twitches. She tastes good, smelled good, felt good. She smelled like my teen years. Back then, her skin and hair smelled of coconut—like a damn beach. And now, even though her looks are dark as sin, she smells like anyone’s dream vacation. Her tits are fuller than I remember. Still not big, but just right on her. And, here’s an odd thought, I want them again. In my mouth. I want to fuck that girl. God fuck me standing. I want to fuck her until she can’t walk and neither can I, for that matter.

Jax grabs one of the girls and pulls off his shirt, then his pants.

“No one wants to see you naked, Jax,” I cry, tossing him a pillow.

“Only a million people,” he returns.

I narrow my eyes as the girls bring me a whiskey, straight up, and I down it in one second as they rub my body like it’s made of the most precious material on the planet.

There’s a strange modern drawing on the ceiling of the suite, and my eyes trace the swirls as I think of that mouth of hers. That mouth of hers. I could kiss that mouth of hers again. She kisses like her kiss could kill, and I’m suicidal enough to want that fucking kiss again, just as badly as I did when I was younger.

I like bad things—booze, threesomes, orgies, smoking. But the baddest thing I’ve ever wanted is Pandora, and I want her deep and hard, like wanting to tie myself to a sinking ship and letting it take me under. So when one of the girls tugs on my shirt and presses her mouth to mine, the moment she trails her tongue along my lips, I pull away and laugh at myself.

“You know what? I think I feel like torturing Pandora a little longer,” I tell them, easing away and zipping my jeans back up.

“Kenna . . . ,” they chorus, pouting.

“Where you going?” Lex calls.

“Obviously back to hell.” One of the cameras follows me down the hall. I stop the cameraman, Noah, and tell him, “Not this, dude.”

“I can’t come into her room. Leo said it was the only way she’d sign a contract.”

“Really now?” I stare at him as I register the singular truth that Pandora’s bedroom is a safe place from cameras. “Excellent. She’s smart, that woman. And mad. Stay away from her.”

“Like you are?” he snorts.

“Stay away from her,” I repeat. “Stay the fuck away from her, and a couple of feet away from me.”

I charge back down the hall and knock on the door. There’s a flash at the peephole as she seems to peer through. She groans. And holy shit, even that groan I can feel in my dick.

I knock again. “Gonna knock all night if I have to!” The door swings open and she’s . . .

Fuck.

Her pupils are dilated, her hair loose, and she’s in a short T-shirt. I can’t take it. The blood storms hot in my veins. I open my mouth, my tone low. “I’m fucking desperate for you.”