Page 65 of Uncharted

“Got it.” I nod, picking up the bottle. “Ready?”

“Spin it, Sassy.” Dante’s voice echoes around the salon. I give it a good spin, and this time, it lands on Zane.

I put my hands on my hips and cock my head. “Ready, Zane?”

“Do your worst, Little Bird.” Zane smiles. He’s relaxed for the first time since he finished the treehouse platform.

Easton winks at me, and I’m nervous. I can do it. No more easy questions. “Right. One question, two parts.” There are some groans from the guys. I shake my head. “Tell me about how you lost your virginity and how long you lasted.”

Zane roars with laughter and slaps his leg. Then he goes completely quiet, turns to Sam, and with a straight face says, “I’ll take the dare.”

Sam scrubs his hand over his chin. “Okay, give Haley a lap dance?—”

Zane jumps to his feet and almost knocks me over as he races by Sam to get a dining room chair. “Easy.”

“Wait, I wasn’t done.” Sam grins.

Zane puts the chair next to me. “All right then, what’s the rest, mate?”

“Zane, you have to sing Old Macdonald—and make it sexy.” Sam raises his eyebrows at me.

“There you go, Cap, there you go.” Easton rolls to his side in laughter. “That’s the spirit.”

“You think this is funny, Rockwell?” Zane asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I do.”

“Fine, I’ll need music. You sing,” Zane says.

Easton shakes his head at Zane. “It’s not my dare.”

Zane glares at Easton and flips his attention back to me. “Have a seat, love. You ready to have your socks and your knickers knocked off?”

I know I’m blushing. I can hardly look at him. He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I can’t help but giggle. “You don’t have to.” It comes out breathless.

“Oh, Little Bird, but I want to. I can do this, and it’s going to be fabulous.”

Easton groans. “Fine.” And he jumps up. “I’ve got you.” He rushes to the side of the main salon, next to the cigar humidor. Pillows fly from where they’ve been piled up on the piano. A yank and the heavy cover slides to the floor. The brass anchors shine in the waning light, the only thing that kept the piano from sliding when the Rock Candy listed so hard. Easton runs his finger down the keys in a glissando. I don’t play, but it’s not hard to tell it’s completely out of tune. “Ready.”

The first chords almost distract me from the fact that Zane’s stripped off his shirt. He slides his hand from the nape of his neck down to his abs. And I have to lean back. I’m giggling.

“I think Sassy likes it. Keep going.” Dante claps on the beat, and the other guys join in.

“Old Mac had a farm.” Zane puts his foot on the chair in between my legs and thrusts his hips. Slowly, out of sync with the piano, he sings, “E, I, E, I, O... O.”

“That’s not how it goes,” Sam says.

I turn my head to him, and when I do, Zane leans in and places the bulge in his pants against my cheek.

“Horse.” Zane neighs. “With a neigh-neigh here.” He thrusts his hips and then flips around, grinding his—he would say “bum”—in my face. “Neigh-neigh there.” He thuds to the ground on all fours, pushing his nose into my crotch. “Everywhere a neigh-neigh.” It’s muffled by my legs. I run my fingers through his hair. His nose rubs up and down the seam of my shorts. Then he’s gone, standing. “Old Mac had a farm. E, I, E, I, Ooooo.” And then he licks down the side of my neck. I shiver. I’m undecided if I’m grossed out by the lick or turned on.

Easton does a little trill on the upper keys that sounds like glass breaking.

Zane throws his hands in the air. “You can’t out-dare me.” He points at each of the guys. Zane gives Easton a slap on his back. “That piano should be shot and put out of its misery.”

“Agreed.” Easton slides back to his spot. And I’m left in the middle wondering if I’m going to survive the night.

“Okay, Chiefie, spin again.” Calvin waves at the bottle.

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