I can’t help laughing harder. “Well, from what I hear, Charlotte calls him her platinum-tongued sex god.”

The guys groan, then howl with laughter while I catch Teller’s eye and wink at him. He leans over and gives me a fist-bump.

“Speaking of girls out of your league,” Jigsaw turns his mischief-making face on Murphy.

“Don’t do it,” Teller warns. “His old lady is my baby sister.”

Murphy grins and shrugs. “I love her anyway.”

“So,” I interrupt before they continue picking on each other. “Why are two eligible, single bikers hanging out with a bunch of spoken-for brothers?”

“Good wingmen.” Jigsaw nods at Z. “Our prez’s pretty boy face lures in the ladies.” He shifts his finger in my direction. “Then you can get out your claws and scare them right into my lap.”

“I thought I was your wingman?” Rooster says.

“No, you’re a distraction. The ladies always want to pet your dumbass beard.”

Rooster pats his fluffy cheeks. “My beard is awesome. Ladies love riding it.”

Everyone groans.

My gaze swings between Jigsaw and Rooster. “I don’t think either of you need help drawing in the ladies.”

Z raises an eyebrow at me, but I ignore it.

Jigsaw traces a diagonal line from the top of his forehead to his right eyebrow. “The scar scares ‘em away.”

I sit forward and study the faint, jagged line he’s pointing out. “I wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t point it out.”

“See, it’s like I keep saying. It’s your annoying personality that scares women away. Not your ugly face,” Rooster says.

“You look like a badass. Girls like that,” I assure him.

Jigsaw grins. “I guess I’ve had plenty want to kiss my booboos better.”

“All right. That’s enough of that,” Z says, standing and taking my hand to pull me up off the couch with him. “My old lady doesn’t need to hear this.”

“But we do?” Teller says.

Z presses up tight against my back, slipping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck. “I want to do a lot of filthy things to you tonight.”

Worried his brothers can hear us, I let out a nervous laugh. “Why?”

“Are you looking for a more complex answer than ‘you make my dick hard every time I look at you?’” he whispers against my ear.

The timbre of his voice as he admits the level of control I have over him releases a wave a desire. Every inch of my skin hums with anticipation.

“I thought you were mad about me laughing at your wild love life?”

He snorts. “I can never stay mad at you for long, Siren.”

The other guys continue harassing each other and Z eases me closer to the bar so we’re alone.

All teasing fades from his expression “I should’ve said something sooner.”