Montana

“Uh, hello? The song’s over,” Peyton’s voice breaks our spell.

My eyes widen with the realization that I just gave the band fodder for future spank-bank material. I feel my cheeks heat as I crawl from Carson’s lap.

His hand flies out, grasping my wrist, pulling me to his lap.

“Don’t wiggle,” he growls into my ear, his hot breath prickling the skin of my neck.

The group sits silent for a moment before Eli reminds me it’s ...