“Truth.”

I’m going for the safe option.

Santana rubs her hands together. “Where’s the strangest place a man has gone down on you?”

My cheeks turn red. “Gone down?”

“You know, gave you a tongue lashing?”

Oh, dear. Oh, man.

“Ah,” I squeak.

I glance at the guys who are all watching me again. Shit. I can’t afford to lose another item of clothing. That’ll expose things I don’t want to expose, which means I have to tell them the humiliating truth.

“Well?” Ash asks.

“I’ve never . . .”

Santana’s eyes bug out. “You’ve never had a tongue lashing?”

Now I’ve got the room’s attention.

“No,” I cry, emptying my wine glass again. “It’s . . . icky.”

They all stare at me.

“You’re shittin’ me,” Maddox grunts.

“I just can’t imagine that it would feel good. I mean, ew.”

“Oh my God,” Santana breathes. “You poor girl.”

“I’ll do it,” Marcus says, putting up his hand and giving me a wicked grin.

“No,” I squeak.

“Woman,” Mack mutters. “Fuck.”

“It’s not that strange,” I protest.

“Honey, it’s strange. It’s the best thing, like, ever,” Ash says.

Santana nods.

“You pee out of that thing. It’s so gross!”

Everyone erupts into laughter, and my cheeks go pinker.

“Mack.” Krypt chuckles. “Take that girl to your room, rip her fuckin’ panties off and put your tongue in her. Show her what she’s missin’ out on.”

Oh. My. God. He did not just say that.

“Krypt!” I cry.

“I’m sure he’d be good at it, too.” Santana giggles. “Wouldn’t you, Chief?”

Mack flashes her a grin, and I want to curl up and die.

“Okay,” I murmur. “The game is done.”

“Aw, party pooper,” Ash cries, throwing her hands over her chest.

“I agree with her,” Maddox says, standing and walking to Santana. He leans down, throws her over his shoulder and carries her away. “I’m takin’ my woman, now.”

“Maddox!” she squeals, but her cheeks are red and she looks damned happy.

“Wanna do the same?” Krypt asks Ash.

“Oh, hell yes.”

“The house just turned into a sex-fest,” I murmur, leaning down and pulling my dress back on.

“I think I need another drink,” Pippa says.

“Me too, girlfriend. Me too.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I’m drunk.

Holy shit, am I drunk.

It’s late—I don’t even know what time. Santana has gone and thrown herself into the spare bed in Diesel’s room, sleeping with him to make sure he’s got someone when he wakes. She really loves doing it, and declared that I have to take a night off a week so she can. I’m totally okay with that. I need one night off, though I already know I’ll miss the little man.

Anyway, back to the drunk.

After the guys and gals went and got it on, we all came back and continued drinking. Even the guys got into it. My phone rang about fifteen minutes ago, and I stumbled outside to answer it. It was Josie and we talked, I told her how I kissed Mack, she squealed, and then we were done. Now I’m pressed against the wall, my head spinning in a delightful way.

“You’re still alive.”

I turn my head to see Mack walking out. He closes the door behind him and we’re alone in the darkness. Oh, man. My heartbeat just kicked up about thirty notches.

“I’m alive,” I whisper.

He steps closer. I can feel him more than see him. His body heat invades my space, and I swallow. Oh man. Oh, man.

“You drunk, honey?” he murmurs.

Honey.

Sigh.

“Ah, yes.”

He steps closer again, and I can smell the beer mixed with his very own scent wafting over me. Oh, holy mother. He’s slightly under the weather too, and inside, for a while there, I saw some of the tension slip from his body, and it made him look even more beautiful.

“You wanna explain you leapin’ onto my lap and kissing me earlier?”

I flinch. I knew that was coming.

“It was,” I swallow, “a dare.”

“You like it?”

“What?” I squeak.

“Did you like it?”

Oh, man.

“Ah, yes.”

“You really never had a man’s tongue?”

“Oh my God, Mack, stop.”

“’Cause after that kiss, I’m thinkin’ I’d like it to be me that puts it there for the first time.”

My knees are going to give way. Mack doesn’t want me. I’m hallucinating.

“Am I dreaming?”

He chuckles, so low and soft I nearly don’t hear it. “No, but we’ve both been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ night, and I figure why the fuck not take it?”

“I’m your nanny.”

That really is a poor protest, but hey, it’s all I’ve got.

“You gonna stop bein’ my nanny if I put my tongue in your cunt?”

Eeek.

“I owe you money, so no.”

“Good.”

Then he steps closer, and his body presses against the length of mine. God dammit, my lady pieces just betrayed me and got really, really wet.