17. Bella

17

BELLA

I sniff appreciatively at the spice-tinged air as Marcus leads me down the stairs. Come what may, I am not leaving the food half-eaten today. My stomach growls in response to the sound of sizzling from a pan—butter being browned, for sure. I'm not sure what kind of magic Wyatt is conjuring up in the kitchen, but I'm ready to be wowed.

Downstairs in the kitchen, there's a flurry of activity, with the table transformed under the weight of bread, some kind of a stew that smells of slow-cooked garlic and braised chicken, and a pretty bowl of salad. River puts out plates and fills our glasses with more of the old-fashioned alcohol that had made my blood sing earlier.

"Well, well, well," I hum as I take a seat. "This smells delicious."

Wyatt turns, a spatula in hand and a devilish grin on his face. "Just whipping up a little something to warm your belly, darlin'. Hope you're hungry."

"Ravenous," I reply, my eyes scanning the mouthwatering spread.

We gather around the table, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine. Laughter fills the air, punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the scraping of forks against plates.

After the plates are cleared, River takes my hand and leads me to the living room, where a roaring fire casts a warm glow on the cozy space. A crystal decanter of amber liquid sits on the coffee table, surrounded by four glasses.

"Up for a little game of truth or dare?" Wyatt asks, a wicked glint in his eyes.

I raise an eyebrow, a playful challenge in my gaze. "Are you sure you're ready for that, cowboy?"

He chuckles, his voice a low rumble. "Darlin', I'm always up for a challenge."

The game begins, the questions and dares escalating with each round. Secrets are spilled, laughter erupts, and the air crackles with a palpable sexual tension.

"Truth or dare, Bella?" River asks, his voice a husky whisper.

"Dare," I reply without hesitation, my heart pounding with anticipation.

He leans forward, his eyes boring into mine. "I dare you to tell us your deepest fantasy."

Heat floods my cheeks, my pulse quickening. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the confession. "My deepest fantasy," I begin, my voice whispery with anticipation, "is to be worshiped by three incredibly handsome men."

The room falls silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire. I glance at each of them, their eyes wide with surprise and a hint of…hunger?

"Nice," Wyatt replies, a dry smile spreading across his face. "Looks like someone's got a taste for adventure."

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my body buzzing excitedly.

When it's my turn again, Marcus takes the lead, his voice hoarse as his eyes linger on my lips. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," I reply breathlessly.

He takes a sip of his whiskey. "I dare you to kiss me."

The room explodes with heat. My breath hitches in my throat, my body tingling as he leans in, his scent a heady mix of sandalwood and pine. His lips brush against mine, softly. It ends all too soon.

When it's my turn again, Wyatt grins at me. "I dare you to kiss Marcus again…but this time, make it count."

Marcus' gaze locks with mine, a silent question hanging in the air. Heat prickles my skin as I glance at River, a flicker of uncertainty momentarily clouding my excitement. But River's expression is surprisingly neutral, his eyes holding a silent permission, a tacit understanding between us.

Emboldened, I turn back to Marcus, my heart thrumming with anticipation. The warmth of the fire, the heady scent of whiskey, and the raw masculinity radiating from him create a potent cocktail of desire. Marcus leans in, his eyes darkening as they meet mine. His hand gently cups my cheek, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

The world narrows down to the space between us. The soft pressure of his lips on mine sends a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a fire that has been smoldering beneath the surface.

His lips move against mine with a gentle insistence, exploring the contours of my mouth, tasting the whiskey that lingers on my tongue. I melt into him, my arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer. His hand slides from my cheek to my waist, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip.

The kiss deepens, our bodies pressing closer, the heat between us building with every passing second. His tongue explores my mouth, tangling with mine in a dance of pure passion. A moan escapes my lips.

Everything else fades away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of Marcus's touch, the taste of his kiss, the scent of his cologne. When I can't take it anymore, I break the kiss, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest. Marcus rests his forehead against mine, his breath mingling with my own. His eyes, dark and intense, search mine for a reaction.

"Wow," I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion.

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Yeah, wow."

I pull away, a shy smile playing on my lips. "I'm not usually this…impulsive."

"Don't apologize," he murmurs, his fingers gently tracing the line of my jaw. "It was perfect."

My emotions are swirling, a maelstrom of confusion and excitement. I need a moment to gather myself, to process the intensity of what just happened. I reach for my glass, downing the remaining whiskey in one gulp. The burn of the alcohol is a welcome distraction, a way to ground myself in the present moment.

But as I meet Marcus's eyes once again, I know that there's no going back. The kiss has changed something between us—all of us.

The game continues, the questions and dares becoming bolder, the stakes higher. I get to ask River what I've been wanting to find out. Then again, new questions are forming in the back of my mind, but those demand a private audience with him. I'll get to them later.

"River," I begin, my voice hesitant, "when you say you want to make up for all the lost time, do you really mean it?"

His gaze locks onto mine, his eyes a deep ocean of regret and longing. "Bella," he starts, his voice thick with emotion, "there isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret the choices I made. I was young, scared, and foolish. But I swear to you on everything that's holy that I want to make it right. I want to spend the rest of my days making you happy."

His words pierce through the layers of anger and resentment that I've held onto for so long. I can feel the walls I've built around my heart crumbling.

"I believe you," I whisper softly.

A wave of relief washes over his face. The mood lightens as we continue the game, the laughter returning, the tension easing. Wyatt, ever the showman, accepts my dare to remove his shirt. When River gets to dare me, he wastes no time in getting to the meat of the game. "Bella," he says in a husky murmur that sends shivers down my spine, "I dare you to lose the dress."

With a deep breath, I rise, my movements slow and deliberate. I take off my sweater, and then the T-shirt. The cool air kisses my skin, sending goosebumps along my arms.

I stand before them in nothing but my underwear, the firelight dancing across my skin, highlighting every curve and hollow. My cheeks flush with heat, but I meet their gazes with a confident smile.

River's eyes darken, his gaze raking over me with a hunger that makes my breath hitch. Marcus's jaw clenches, his eyes smoldering with barely contained desire. Wyatt lets out a low whistle, his admiration evident.

"Well, damn," he breathes, his voice husky with appreciation. "You definitely know how to play this game."

A thrill of excitement courses through me, the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I feel alive, empowered, desired. The game has transformed into something more, a seductive dance of temptation and surrender.

It's Marcus's turn to tease me again. This time, I choose truth.

He leans forward with a glint in his eyes. "Tell us, Bella," he murmurs, "what's the naughtiest thing you've ever done?"

I take a sip of my whiskey and wink at him. "Oh, you'll just have to wait and see," I whisper, my voice dripping with promise.

The game takes on a life of its own, fueled by the firelight, the whiskey, and the unspoken tension simmering between us. One by one, we strip away our inhibitions. River sheds his flannel shirt, his sculpted muscles rippling in the firelight. Marcus unbuttons his jeans, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his tanned skin teasing my senses.

When it's my turn again, the whiskey has loosened my inhibitions, emboldening me in ways I never thought possible.

"Dare," says Wyatt. He leans forward, a devilish grin on his face. "The way you're looking at me, you're playing with fire."

"Don't worry," I reply, leaning closer. "I can handle the heat." My eyes lock with his. "I dare you," I say, my face flushed, "to make love to me."

The room holds its breath. Wyatt's eyes darken, a primal hunger flaring in their depths. He rises. He reaches for me, his hands gentle as they cup my face. His lips descend on mine, hungry and demanding.

Everything is spinning, but I know with absolute clarity that this is what I want, to be adored by three glorious men. The next thing I know, I'm pushing Wyatt down on a chair while River and Marcus watch me climb on top of him.