The whiskey kept coming. So did they.

Kameron finally pulled me onto the dance floor with his hand settled on my hip. Strong fingers pressing into the curve through the thin fabric, making the heat spread slowly and agonizingly sweet across my skin like wildfire.

“You’re shaking, firecracker,” he murmured against my ear.

“I’m not scared of you, Kameron Banks.”

“Never said you were, sweetheart. But your body’s telling me something your mouth won’t.”

Before he could bring me closer to his hard and big body, a hand closed around my wrist. Colt pulled me from Kameron’s grip, spinning me against his chest. His arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me closer than decent.

Close enough to feel every hard plane pressed against me.

His thumb traced slow circles against my spine, and my treacherous body leaned into the touch. The fabric of his shirt was warm against my palms where I’d braced myself against his chest.

Kameron didn’t step back. Instead, he moved closer, until I was completely sandwiched between their bodies. His chest pressed against my back, his hands settling on either side of my waist, effectively trapping me between them.

“You don’t have to prove anything to him,” Colt said, his voice rough.

“Maybe she wants to,” Kameron challenged, his eyes locked on Colt’s over my shoulder while his thumb traced maddening circles on my waist.

I couldn’t breathe properly. Colt’s hands slid lower, settling at the small of my back, while Kameron’s fingers flexed against my waist.

They were both so much taller, broader, making me feel small and surrounded in a way that sent heat pooling low in my belly.

“I-I can speak for myself,” I managed, though my voice came out breathless.

“Then speak,” Kameron murmured, his lips grazing my ear.

Behind me, I felt every hard plane of his chest, his hips pressed against me in a way that made thinking impossible.

Colt leaned down, close enough that his breath fanned across my face. “Tell us what you want, Ivory.”

The proximity was dizzying. I was drowning in the scent of them—cologne, whiskey, and something uniquely masculine that made my knees weak.

“You’re both…” I couldn’t finish, overwhelmed by the sensation of my body responding in ways that made my cheeks burn hotter.

Then I saw Mrs. Patterson watching from the refreshment table. Old Tom Wheeler whispering to his wife. Three women from my mother’s old church group with their heads together.

The whole town was watching me pressed between two men.

By morning, it would be all anyone discussed.

“I need air.” I pulled away. “Everyone’s staring.”

I stumbled through the crowd and burst into the cool night. Stars wheeled overhead as I leaned against the barn wall, gasping. The whiskey churned in my stomach, making the world tilt sideways.

Pathetic.

I was supposed to be in control tonight. I was supposed to make them want what they couldn’t have—make them feel what I’d felt all those years ago and then walk away.

Instead, my whole body still hummed from Colt’s hands on my hips, from Kameron’s breath against my ear.

One dance had me wet and aching like the lovesick teenager they remembered.

So much for strength. So much for revenge.

I pressed my forehead against the cool wood and hated myself for still wanting them.

“Running away already?” Kameron’s voice came from behind me.

Turning my head back I saw that both of them had followed. Kameron with that infuriating grin and Colt with his jaw tight.

“Go back inside before someone notices you’re gone. I’m fine.”

“Let them notice, I don’t give a F**k. And you’re not fine.” Kameron stepped closer. “Just hiding, same as always.”

My hands curled into fists. “You think I dressed up for you? I dressed up for me. Because I’m not that pathetic little girl anymore!”

Dusty saddles. Horse blankets piled in the corner. Leather and hay. Kameron’s thick cock strained against his jeans as he slammed me against the splintered wall, his mouth a furnace on my neck, teeth grazing my pulse.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled, but his hands were already yanking my panties aside, fingers slicking with my arousal. “Tell me, and I will.”

“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” I gasped, arching into him as he worked two fingers inside me, curling them just right to make me moan.

Colt was behind me, stripping my dress off with brutal efficiency, his rough palms sliding up my thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of my ass.

Kameron’s mouth was everywhere—my throat, my tits, his tongue flicking over my nipples until they ached. Colt’s cock, thick and heavy, pressed against my back as his hands slid around to pinch and twist my clit in time with Kameron’s thrusting fingers.

They laid me out on the horse blankets, the rough fabric scraping my skin as they stripped off their clothes.

It was even better than any dirtiest fantasy I endured for years about them.

I didn’t get only one of them. Both of them were mine. And it was perfect.

Hands worshiping my body, fingers tangled in my hair, rough voices whispering filth into my ears—how F**king tight I was, how they’d dreamed of this, how they weren’t stopping until I screamed.

And I did. Over and over.

I lost track of where one ended and the other began. Hands and mouths and whispered names. Pleasure building until I shattered between them. Multiple times over the night until our bodies gave up and we fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

Dawn crept through cracks in the wooden walls when I woke. Hay in my hair. My dress crumpled nearby. Then the realization that I was alone.

Shame flooded my chest, but beneath it—indeniable relief.

I didn’t know how I could have faced them after what we’d done. What I’d begged for. What they made me feel.

I put on my dress with trembling hands, the blankets still held their warmth, their scent.

They’d left without a word.

I stood in the doorway, watching the sun paint the sky pink and gold, and I couldn’t decide if I was grateful or completely gutted.