Shiloh leans forward and cups my face with one hand. She’s got calluses, evidence of the weapons training she leaves me to do a few times a week. Her lips are soft as she presses them to mine. My girl might seem sweet, but she wastes no time slipping her tongue into my mouth and kissing me properly.

It lasts long enough that Broderick clears his throat. When Shiloh sits back, she’s flushing, and I ache for more. Patience. I can be patient. I lick my lips. “Your turn.”

Shiloh turns hazel eyes on Broderick. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” There’s an edge to his tone, a dare all its own.

She gives a small smile, but there’s an edge of cruelty to it. “Do you enjoy how you are with Monroe?”

He goes rigid behind me. “I don’t understand the question.”

“I think you do.” Shiloh takes a small drink of her beer. “You are so careful with everyone else around you—with me. With Monroe, you’re different than I’ve ever seen you. Harder. Meaner. You…” She looks away. “You fucked her like you were mad at her. Did you enjoy it?”

I don’t mean to hold my breath. I really don’t. Obviously Broderick likes how he is with me, even if it torments him at the same time, challenges the role he’s stepped into. The good man. The caretaker. There’s no room in that role for cruelty, and yet he’s cruel to me, especially when it comes to sex.

He finally curses. “Yes. I enjoy the way we fuck. Yeah, I enjoy the way I am with Monroe.” Broderick snags his glass and takes a long drink from it. He speaks before I can process how I feel about his admission. “Truth or dare, Shiloh.”

“What?” She blinks. “It’s Monroe’s turn.”

It’s an effort to keep my body relaxed. I might have started this game, but it’s rapidly slipping beyond my control. Maybe that should concern me, but there’s something magical brewing between the three of us. It’s hot and sticky and oh so dangerous. I want to see what happens when this powder keg explodes. I wave a lazy hand through the air. “The previous person can choose whomever they like.”

She narrows her eyes but finally says, “Dare.”

“Take off your pants.”

I cough. I can’t help it. I didn’t expect him to go for it so hard, to ask something that seems so simple on the surface but is anything but. “Broderick—”

“No one is coming through that door.” His voice is low and ruthless. “It’s just us. Either you trust us, or you don’t. Either you trust me, or you don’t.”

“That’s not fair.”