The Amber Shift

Fourteen

Noelle

Avery and I are dancing in the center of the room after eating way too much cake and drinking way too much champagne (me, not her), and I am quickly discovering that Avery is hilarious. She has cracked so many jokes tonight that practically have me rolling on the floor, half of them poking fun at her all-too-serious brother.

I can tell she's getting tired by the way she's draped her arms over my shoulders and leaned her head against me, her eyes fluttering open and closed.

The prickly feeling of awareness washes over me, and I lift my heavy gaze to see Asher's green eyes on me, shamelessly running up and down my body. My skin heats to the point where Avery lifts her head to look at me, her blue eyes wide in alarm. "Noelle, you're burning up! Are you okay?"

My eyebrows furrow and I nod. "I—Yeah, I'm fine. I just got hot all of a sudden."

She yawns. "You probably drank too much."

I consider and realize she's probably right. I lost track of how many glasses of champagne I've had, not to mention the shots of tequila Killian did with me. Usually, I'd be passed out by now, but I just feel energized, like I want to dance all night, preferably with one of the very good looking lycan on the other side of the room.

Not Avery, though. She's practically snoozing against me, and I put my hand on her cheek. "Ave, I think it's time to go to bed, huh? You've had a long day."

I expect her to argue, but she nods and says, "I think so too. Thanks for letting me come to your party."

A smile spreads over my face, and I hug her fiercely. "It wouldn't have been a party without you."

She disappears up to her room after saying goodnight to the guys, and I stroll over to where they are congregated by the cake table, nursing beers and whiskeys. They lean back in their chairs or prop their feet on the linen tablecloth. If I didn't know better, they would look like a bunch of normal human men avoiding the dance floor and opting for conversations about sports.

"Okay boys," I say, my eyes traveling over each one of them, including Elijah. "Who's going to dance with me?"

Three tall frames jump to their feet, and Elijah takes another swig of his beer. God forbid he have some fun. The man might spontaneously combust if he actually let go and enjoyed himself. It must be exhausting to be so serious all the time. Thankfully, I have three willing participants that won't let our small party go to waste.

"All of you at once?" I ask.

Killian takes my hand and pulls me into the middle of the room. "Don't worry, sweetheart, we will make it work."

Remi places a hand on my waist and turns me toward him, while Killian presses his bulky body to my back. I reach out and grab the front of Asher's shirt and pull him to my side. If I was feeling hot before this moment, I'm on the verge of going up in flames. It is not only the heat radiating from them, but the way they move their hands over me—gentle caresses down my arms and firm grasps on my hips. And someone save me, Killian is pressing into my back and the hard length of him digs into the swell of my ass.

I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and try to focus on moving my body to the beat of the song playing from the speakers, but all I can think about is the throb that's resided between my legs for weeks. The ache low in my abdomen that never seems to go away. And now all three of these men have their hands on me.

Remi moves against me, and my eyelids flutter closed when I realize he's in the same predicament as Killian, except he's pressing into the juncture of my legs. I roll my hips over him and a low growl rumbles from his throat, sending a shiver through me.