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“Open your legs, rabbit.” Terry’s voice was rough in her ear.
Maggie wanted to obey. Her body demanded it, but the men watched, all eyes on his hand as it pushed her skirt higher and higher, exposing more of her body to them.
“Now.” He nipped her ear and her legs fell open as her back arched, pushing herself toward his hand.
She moaned as his finger slid across her seam—firm and slow. She squeezed his arm that was wrapped tightly around her waist, her other hand clenching her glass.
He kissed her neck again, his finger continuing to work its magic. The men’s gazes gleamed almost feral and the pleasure of his finger began to slip away. She closed her eyes, pretending it was just him and her.
“Stand up.” He clasped her waist, helping her off his lap.
She pulled down her skirt, covering herself and he frowned. She should’ve waited for him to tell her to do that, but she hadn’t wanted those other men to see the cellulite on her thighs.
“Go stand where you were before.”
She glanced at the glass in her hand.
“Do you want another drink?” he asked.
She shook her head. She was warm and a little tipsy, but not drunk. She looked at the guys again. Maybe she should have another.
“Okay.” He took the glass from her and placed it on the floor by his chair. “Go back to the center of the room and stand there.”
She turned, her stomach tightening into knots. He knew she didn’t like to be on display. This wasn’t something that’d make her happy or horny. The ache between her legs had fled as soon as she’d stood and lost contact with his touch. She stopped and turned around. Terry had shifted so he was facing her. The men hadn’t moved, their eyes still on her.
“Look at me, Maggie.”
She did and a bit of the tension left at the heat in his dark gaze.
“Good. Now, remove that hideous piece of lace.”
“You think it’s hideous?” She looked down. It was a lovely, intricate piece of artwork.
“I think anything that covers your tits is hideous”— he grinned—“except my hands or my mouth.”
She flushed, her eyes darting to the men behind him. At home, when it was just the two of them, his foul language turned her on, but this was different.
“Take it off, Maggie.”
“I can’t. It’s sewn inside.” She’d worked hard to get it right. She wasn’t tearing it out.
“Then remove your dress.”
Her heart almost stopped. She’d picked her lingerie for him not for everyone in the Club. Okay, three guys weren’t everyone, but it was more than she’d expected to see her underwear.
He shook his head. “I can see that you’re having trouble obeying.” He cast a glance over his shoulder at Bruce as he stood. “Let me help you with that.”
She fidgeted in place, her hands tugging at the hem of her dress. He was going to remove her clothes and everyone would see her thick thighs and big butt. Even her breasts wouldn’t save her. They looked great with the bra, but without it...They weren’t as firm as they used to be. Her stomach twisted. She had no idea why he thought she’d enjoy this. She hated it. Her mouth dropped open as he walked past her, stopping at the cabinet. He reached inside and turned around, holding a blindfold.
She couldn’t help it. She took an involuntary step backward. She wouldn’t be able to see anything.
He grinned. “You can’t run from me, rabbit.” He reached into the closet again and a motor hummed. “Time for you to see what OYT means.”
She followed his gaze upward. A large hook lowered from the ceiling. She didn’t even want to guess what he was going to do with that.