Hotter Than Hell Read Online Free PDF Page B

patterns up and down her leg. “And we split the power between us.”
    “Split…?”
    And then Brandon’s hand curved around the inside of her other leg and her knees buckled from the rush of sensation. Travis’s grip shifted up her leg, sliding up under the edge of her skirt to hold her hips, as she folded forward, knees going to the couch, her sex rubbing against the rough edge of denim over his erection.
    “Takes both of us to make it work.” Brandon’s voice was a low, heated growl at her ear and she moaned as he dragged his tongue over her neck.
    “Your name…it was the name Ulysses gave the Cyclops.”
    “Same story,” Travis grinned. “Different chapter. Since Momma never said who our father was…”
    “If it is no man, then it must be by the will of the gods.”
    “Good girl.”
    Brandon was behind her now, straddling his brother’s legs, pressed up against her back, arms around her, hands working the buttons on her shirt.
    This was where she could stop it. Should stop it. Should pull the business plan she’d drawn up out of her bag and…
    She knocked Travis’s hat off and bent to devour his mouth as he hiked her skirt higher with one hand and slid the other under the scrap of silk and lace. He tasted like honey and sunshine and she could feel him still smiling against her lips. When she pulled away, fingers buried in his hair, he murmured, “We never saw a lot of point in singing ships onto rocks.”
    Then Brandon took hold of her head and turned it. “This is a lot more fun,” he breathed against her lips just before he claimed them. He was rougher than his brother, his tongue demanding entry. She opened for him and rocked down against Travis’s fingers as Brandon fucked her mouth. When he finally moved along her jaw and scraped his teeth against the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulders, she fought to bring at least one or two brain cells back on line, reminding herself this wasn’t all she wanted.
    “I’m not the only one who knows what you are.” Her voice was husky, needy, desperate, and she was actually more than a little impressed she managed to complete the sentence.
    So was Travis. He wrapped fingers wet with her own arousal around her wrist and stopped her from opening his fly. “Who else?”
    “Michael Richter. He owns Vital Music Group…Oh God!”
    “Brandon!”
    Brandon snorted something unintelligible against the back of her neck and stopped rolling her nipples between his fingers.
    “Go on, Alysha.”
    Go on where? Right. Mike. “One of Richter’s people was here tonight, in the club, wearing ear plugs.”
    “Ear plugs?” Brandon straightened, his hands going from her breasts to her shoulders, lightly stroking the skin exposed when he’d pushed back her shirt, the motion somehow holding all three of them at that moment.
    Held suspended between them, Ali dredged up a bit more of the myth. “If you sing and no one reacts then you have to throw yourself into the sea…”
    “Metaphor.” Travis’s teeth flashed white. “If we sing and no one reacts then we surrender to an outside power. Mythically, the sea. As things stand right now, not so much.”
    “Surrender?”
    “We give over control.”
    Ali frowned down at her reflection in Travis’s glasses, the expression looking out of place sharing her face with swollen, spit-slicked lips and blown pupils. “That’s what Mike wants. To control you. To make you sing up what he desires.”
    “Isn’t that what you want, Alysha Bedford of Bedford Entertainment?”
    “No. Not control, manage. It’s not the same thing.”
    “A difference of degree,” Brandon noted.
    “I don’t want to control you. I don’t want to use you, Mike does. Some day, now he knows about you, I guarantee you’ll do a gig where he controls the audience and then he’ll control you.”
    “Good thing you showed up to protect us then.” Travis’s lip curled mockingly.
    “We don’t mind being courted,” Brandon noted, fingers