Page 369 of End Game

One hand settles against Micah's jaw where Micah can see it coming, and their mouths meet slowly.

Oh.

Well.

Fuck.

I've seen them kiss before.

This shouldn't be novel.

It is apparently still extremely effective, because my body immediately reacts.

Griffin feels me shift against him.

His hand, which has been resting lazily on my thigh, tightens. “You good?”

I turn toward him. “Very.”

Something in my face must give me away because his eyes darken.

Then his mouth is on mine.

It is hungry enough that my brain stops caring whether the hero survives the helicopter crash currently happening behind us.

Griffin's hand slides up my thigh.

My fingers tangle in his hair.

When the kiss breaks, I am breathing considerably harder than I was thirty seconds ago.

And when I turn back, Micah is looking at me.

Fuck.

Those gray eyes drift from my mouth to Griffin's hand on my thigh and back up.

I reach for him, and he moves closer willingly.

The first kiss is almost cautious.

But maybe because Griffin is still touching me and Ronan is still touching Micah.

We've all been intimate with different pieces of this configuration.

Never this one.

Then Micah's hand slides into my hair.

His fingers close near the base of my skull.

My body answers immediately.

The kiss deepens.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs against my mouth.

Fuck.