“So, what day are you dressed up as?” I asked Ian.

“I’m a lord leaping.”

“Oh, well then, let’s see some leaps. Show me what you’ve got,” I taunted.

His friendly smile turned wicked. “Oh, I’m leaping for my wife, all right.” He leaned back, spreading his legs to showcase the impressive length pressing against his pants.

I attempted to join Carina in rolling her eyes, but Atlas’s deep chuckle tickled down my body, plucking at my nipples before dipping in my core. I barely managed to contain the shiver of pleasure.

“And you,” I asked Carina, taking in her lacy French maid costume, similar to mine. “Are you one of my French hens?”

“Close. Except, I’m very obviously a maid milking,” she explained, gesturing toward her full breasts spilling over the edge of her outfit.

“Duh. And how are those beautiful babies?”

“Great,” she said with a dreamy but exhausted smile. “But I am very ready for a night to remind myself that I’m a sexual woman.”

“A night we all deserve,” I said, lowering my eyes to crest over the lush curves of her body.

Trying to replicate the way Atlas looked at me, I took my time, letting her feel the caress of my gaze as if it were my hands.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Carina said softly.

I ascended her body and made it to her mouth just in time to watch her swallow and lick her lips—a sign of arousal but also nerves. Of course, when I met her eyes, nothing showed except bold sexiness.

“I wouldn’t let my job make me miss this,” I assured.

“Your job? Is this not your job?” Atlas asked. I’d been so focused on Carina that I had a whole ten minutes of blissful ignorance—a break from the fiery heat he kept pouring gasoline on.

“It is, but only when I want to.”

“And what do you do when you don’t want to work here?”

“Sit at home with a glass of wine,” I answered.

“Sounds boring.”

“Which is why I work here part-time.”

“Part-time?” he asked.

I almost laughed, realizing how little we knew about each other despite knowing how he felt inside me. He was taking advantage of our current intimate group to get the information I refused to give at dinner. Part of me wanted to shut him down again but having Carina and Ian listening so closely kept me in check, not wanting to explain later why I was being so cold.

And as much as I hated to admit it, maybe, just maybe, something in me wanted to give a little more about myself. It had to be the night—the thrilling, adventurous atmosphere urging me to give in. It was the only thing that made sense to explain my weakened defenses.

“I have a big girl job that takes up most of my time elsewhere.”