Nico whistled under his breath, looking almost gleeful.
Jason’s eyes narrowed on me further.
Marcos shifted beneath me. “Let’s back it up here,” he spoke up, intervening. “Maya knows how to take care of herself.”
Stone barely glanced at his buddy, before he turned his gaze back to me.
I watched him suspiciously, waiting for him to say something else that might piss me off. I was NOT a morning person, and I was still mad at him—all of them. And as I didn’t remember what happened after they got me in the truck, I had to ask. “Did you guys, sleep with me last night?”
“What? God no. You passed out,” Nico exclaimed.
Relief washed over me, as I took in their horrified expressions. “What the hell do you take us for?” Jason snapped.
I glared at him. “As you said, I passed out. And as I really don’t even know you guys…”
“We’d never touch you without your permission, Dream Girl,” Nico said, shaking his head.
I shrugged, unsure what else to say after that.
“Alright, so last night,” Marcos said. He rubbed his hand over my bare thigh, soothingly. “We said we play for keeps, meaning you come home with us, you’re ours.”
“I remember,” I said.
“That means something different to us, Maya,” Marcos continued. “Last time we played together we talked a little about BDSM and the lifestyle we’re into.”
I nodded slowly. “So that would apply to our relationship then?”
Nico nodded. “We wouldn’t expect you to go twenty-four-seven. But in the bedroom, yes, that’s what we’d expect.”
“And when we meant for keeps, we’d want you to move in,” Marcos clarified.
I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth. “No.” The word was out before I realized I even spoke it.
Marcos’s body stiffened beneath me, like he was shocked at my answer. “No?”
I set my fork down and stood up, shaking my head. Marcos’s hand trailed down my body as he let go of me. I walked a few steps away to the counter and leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest as I surveyed the three of them.
“What do you meanno?” Marcos asked.
“Just what I said. You want me to move in here? Just like that? No.” I shook my head again. “For the record, I’m still pissed at the three of you. I’m not just letting that shit go and moving in here, not just cause we slept together a couple times and you said so. Fuck that.”
Their heads lowered, gazes on the table, before they slowly got to their feet, chairs scraping on the cheap linoleum. “Alright. We deserve that,” Marcos nodded, as he turned toward me.
I gave them a look that screamed ‘Duh’ in return. I hated when men tried to validate my fucking feelings, like they were only acceptable if men deemed them so.
“So, that’s it?” Jason asked, crossing his own arms over his chest, his T-shirt pulled tight across his muscles, his biceps popping. He had that stone-cold expression on his face, locking down his emotions, but I knew better. I could see the hurt in his gaze.
“I didn’t say that.” Shaking my head, I ran my fingers through my damp curls. “BDSM is all about negotiations, correct?”
My men froze, their eyes on me cautiously. “Correct,” Marcos agreed, the hint of approval his dark gaze.
“So, I’m open to negotiations,” Maya conceded.
Jason smirked. “Good girl,” he murmured.
Heat bloomed across my cheeks and I had to fight the smile that threatened to spread across my face. I needed to keep the upper hand here, stand my ground. “Don’t, Jason Langford. Not right now, I’m not in the mood.”
“She’s right.” Marcos sighed. “We fucked up, and we’re not in the position to be making demands here.”