Dean considered the food a moment then filled his plate one dish at a time. Once there was no room left, he picked up his chopsticks and twirled them between his fingers. He paused and glanced across the table. “What’s the problem?”

I stuttered and sat straighter, unsure what he was referring to. Was it the nefarious request that I get fucked by his husband while he watched? Or the cold sweat running in rivulets down my forehead? “Nothing. I’m sorry, what?”

“Jay likes you. You’re exactly his type. Cute. Compact. Young. He said there was returned interest, but you seem ready to dart out the door. Explain.”

“I’m not darting. There is no darting here. I’m sitting. Totally chill. Starving. I’m … starving.” I wasn’t starving. Not anymore. My stomach was knotted up, but I filled a plate so Dean would stop psychoanalyzing me.

Ya psycho.

Jay piled food on his plate as well. The conversation dropped off as we ate. Thank God.

Dean and Jay had some kind of silent discussion I wasn’t a part of that consisted of a lot of raised brows, shifting eyeballs, and frowns. It didn’t matter, I was conjuring excuses while I slurped udon noodles from a bowl, deciding the best way to slip out after dinner and head home. This had been a mistake. Next time I had wild dreams of threesomes with older men, someone should kick me in the balls.

Jay’s hand found its way to my leg again. I swallowed a mouthful of rice without chewing and choked while darting my gaze from him to Dean.

Dean ate like a ravenous caveman, oblivious.

Jay winked and moved his hand between my legs, sliding it up my thigh until it rested once again on my dick. Then he proceeded to stroke a thumb over the swell until I couldn’t help but get aroused. With downcast eyes, I watched him while simultaneously wanting to push his hand away and thrust against it. My brain and dick were not on the same page.

Jay pretended to eat while watching me back.

“Please,” he mouthed. “I want to fuck you.” He licked his lips and increased the pressure below.

I swallowed a moan and spread my legs wider, inviting him to play even when I knew I shouldn’t encourage him. Why did Dean have to be a weird-ass freak? Why did Jay have to be married?

Why hadn’t I listened to Asher?

Asher!

That was how I was going to get out of this. I’d text him an SOS, and he could call and pretend I had to be somewhere. Family emergency or some shit. No choice but to abandon ship.

I cleared my throat and used my napkin to wipe my mouth. “Excuse me. I need to use the little boy’s room. I’ll be back.”