by Shayla Black
As she darted toward the bathroom, her humiliation choked her. God, her ass was hanging out. She felt so wretchedly exposed, but she wasn’t about to dress in front of them and let them gawk at the dumb little virgin anymore. It was better to leave and save herself the tiniest bit of dignity. She slammed the door behind her and locked it just in case. Barely a second later, she heard them yelling.
Without them staring and judging her now, the mortification of the evening pressed in on Belle, crushing her dreams. She went to her knees and let the tears fall.
* * * *
Kellan’s stomach turned as he stared at the bathroom door Belle had just slammed. Fuck, what had he just done? One moment he’d had his hands on her, stroking her and making her come. She’d been the sexiest woman he’d ever touched because he’d wanted her for so long and her pleasure had been so honest. He could still feel her, smell her, so hot and wet and perfect. The moment she’d stripped naked for them, the primal need to carry her to the bed and sink his cock inside her had gnawed at him. He’d leave her body only long enough to see Eric and Tate please her before they started all over again. But that was a fucking fantasy. A joke.
Now, he found his two best friends staring him down. And they looked wildly pissed. He could hear Belle quietly sobbing in the bathroom.
“What the hell is wrong with you? How could you do that to her?” Eric strode across the room, grabbing his slacks with an angry jerk.
Staring at the ceiling, Kell sighed. He should just fucking walk out, like he’d promised. Opening the door and leaving would be the kindest thing he could do because hoping that he could share a woman with his friends had been a horrible mistake. He’d ruined everything, and they would never forgive him. He’d already learned the hard way that a man didn’t get second chances.
The door was right there. No one was guarding it. Eric still stumbled his way into his slacks, and Tate stood on the other side of the suite, pressed to the bathroom door, trying to coax Belle out.
None of this nightmare would be happening if he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking he could just fuck her without feeling anything or screwing the whole situation up.
Still, Kell couldn’t bring himself to go. He owed her an apology at least. “I can’t.”
Eric walked across the room, face red, teeth gritted. “Can’t what?” he snarled. “Act like a human being? Do you know what you just did to her?”
Taken all her sweetly blooming sensuality and crushed it under his loafer? Yeah, he knew he’d done that. “I can’t be with a fucking virgin, man. What the hell would I do with her?”
God, that had come out completely wrong. He sounded like the worst kind of asshole douchebag, even to his own ears. But as soon as Belle blurted that she was glad she’d waited, his stomach had done a tailspin. She would need so much more than he could give her—love, attention, devotion. She deserved all that and more. She’d waited for a man who could love her, not just a man who could fuck her all night long.
She needed a man who would move mountains or part the sea for her, fight off demons, and fill her heart—do anything for her.
The realization physically hurt him, but Kell knew he wasn’t that man. He never would be.
“You can’t be with a virgin? Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Eric’s cheeks mottled even more. “You treated her like she has some dreaded disease.”
“Belle?” Tate knocked on the bathroom door. “Baby, answer me. I can hear you crying. Talk to me. Let me hold you.”
At least Tate was preoccupied.
“You knew I wouldn’t get serious with her. Hell, you said I didn’t have to when you invited me to join this party,” Kell pointed out.
He’d told Belle he wouldn’t make a good boyfriend—and he’d been right. He had also made it clear to Eric and Tate that he couldn’t commit. They knew his past. Yeah, he could have handled his shock about her virginity better. He regretted hurting her. But how could any of them think for a second that Annabelle Wright would—or should—accept what little he could offer? She hadn’t waited all these years for a lover who could get her off. No, she’d waited for lace and monogrammed towels. She’d waited for love.
Kellan shuddered. He hadn’t been enough for his bitch of a wife. She’d walked out and utterly destroyed his world, his family, and his heart. She’d proven that he wasn’t enough of a husband for the average woman. Belle was anything but average.
But the idea of never holding her in his arms made something in his chest buckle violently. Fuck. He was dying inside and he had no idea what to do. Kell ached to walk to that bathroom door and kick it open, insist that she never lock him out again—but he didn’t have that right. He would never have that right with her.
No denying that if he had dreamed up his perfect submissive, Annabelle would fit the bill. She nurtured. She cared. Smart, funny, loyal, sassy… Hell, who was he kidding? Even if she’d slept with a hundred men, she would be far too good for him. But the reverent way she’d said it—I’m so glad I waited—had gutted him. He’d spoken without thinking. Now that would cost him not just the woman he wanted above all others, but his two best friends as well.
Tate stormed over, every muscle in his body tight with fury. “I can’t get her to come out or speak. You made this mess. You go talk to her and apologize. You clean up this shit and make it right.”
Before his pal even finished speaking, Kell began shaking his head. The minute he saw her again, he just might go down on his knees and beg her to take him back. He might offer her everything he couldn’t deliver because he was too weak to walk away. That would lead to a nuclear disaster for Belle’s heart. He wouldn’t do it to her. Better to find the fucking strength now to walk away.
How the hell was he supposed to even work with her? He couldn’t anymore. And if Eric and Tate couldn’t coax Belle back to their side, they wouldn’t want to share a business with him anyway. Goddamn it, he had to leave and lose another family. This time he wouldn’t find a replacement. He would be alone, the way he deserved to be.
“I’m sorry,” he said tightly. “But I can’t do this. You understand that if you take Belle’s virginity, you’re responsible for her? She waited twenty-six fucking years. She’s not going to be content with a damn one-night stand.”
“Good!” Tate hollered back. “I don’t want to fuck and run. I want a wife, a family, a future that doesn’t include going to a bar and picking up a girl eager for the thrill of banging three guys.”
“Good for you. I can’t be responsible for Belle. I’ll only destroy her.”
“You’re protecting yourself,” Eric growled. “Not her. You’re just too fucking afraid to put your little heart out there again.”
Tate invaded his space. “You hurt her to save yourself? I have no respect for that.”
It wasn’t logical, but Kell wanted to put the fucker on his ass. “Back off, Tate. Do it now.”
“I don’t think I want to.” Tate kept coming.
Eric moved between them. “Stop it, both of you. This isn’t helping a damn thing.”
Maybe not, but since Kell had no idea how to put a pretty pink Band-Aid on the situation and make it all better, the thought of taking out his anger on Tate seemed like a damn fine idea. Yeah, he should probably ‘fess up to the truth that Tate was a better man and Kell resented him for it, but beating the hell out of him would feel so much better. His gut rolled with rage. Unfulfilled desire warred with a terrible sense of self-loathing that had been constantly weighing him down since his divorce.
Except those moments when Belle had looked at him with her big dark eyes sparkling with trust. She’d been so gorgeous as she placed herself over his lap for her first spanking. In that moment, he hadn’t thought of anything but her, the way she smelled of jasmine, how warm her flesh had become as he disciplined her, the undeniable certainty that his spanking had made her wet. She’d responded to his touch with absolute honesty and openness, all but offering him he
r innocent body.
Kell hated like hell that he couldn’t accept it.
“You’re a pathetic piece of shit, Kent. You ruined everything.” Tate never held back.
Which was good because that meant Kellan didn’t have to stifle his words, either. “I didn’t see your boy over there getting on his damn knees and thanking her for remaining pure for him. He was just as shocked as I was.”
Eric’s jaw tightened, his face going stony. “Of course I was shocked.”
“Don’t stop there. Spit it out. You weren’t any happier about her whole virginity thing than I was, you shit. You’re going to let me take all the blame though, aren’t you?”
It was typical. He always got to be the bad guy. He took the hits for the whole team while Tate and Eric sat back and played the good guys everyone loved. He might have earned it, but he was damn sick of it.
“You’re so far off the mark,” Eric insisted. “I’m glad that I’ll never have to picture Belle letting some random asshole grunt and sweat on top of her. Look, none of us imagined Belle would be a virgin. It was a shocker, but that just means it’s time for us to slow it down and talk a little. We sure as hell shouldn’t blow the whole thing up. Do you have any idea what you did to her by walking out?”
“I could have handled it better; I’ll give you that. But did you stop to think that she misled us a little? Tell me what virgin is ready to just hop in the sack with three men? She either didn’t know what she was getting into—and if that’s the case, it’s a good thing we stopped—or she didn’t really intend to be with all of us.” Kell couldn’t resist a sidelong glance at Tate. Being left in the cold was his buddy’s hot button, and if Belle hadn’t planned on embracing the big guy…well, better that he found out now before he fell even harder in love.
“She kissed me. That wasn’t a good-bye, you asshole.” Tate took that moment to curl up his fist and rear it back.
Kellan just stood there. Maybe this hurt would detract from the agony twisting his guts. The impact came, and he was surprised at just how hard Tate, a man who watched way too much science fiction television, could punch. Kell’s jaw took the brunt and pain flared through his system.
He saw red. It triggered his aggression. Immediately, he went on the offensive, putting every ounce of his roiling rage into his fists. Before he really knew what he was doing, he had Tate on the ground, pounding into the man who had been his friend for nearly a decade. When Eric tried to get between them, he just decked Eric, too—a hard crack to the chin.
“Stop. Please stop.” Belle’s shaky pleading broke through the furious haze that filled his head.
The three of them stopped everything, just froze as if someone had hit the off button to stop all motion. Vaguely, he was aware that his body ached. Blood trickled down his lip, but the shame that suddenly overtook him was worse than any physical discomfort.
Belle stood before them looking more stripped of confidence than he’d ever seen her. With eyes swollen and nose red, she’d obviously been crying. The sight of her tears kicked him in the gut, tearing through him in a way Tate’s fists couldn’t. Her pretty cocktail gown was wrinkled. Just minutes before, she’d been naked in his arms and she’d practically glowed. Now her light was gone, replaced with a deep grief stamped into her face. His words had done that to her.
“Please stop,” she said, her voice beyond weary. “I can’t stand the fact that you’re fighting, especially about me. Please.”
He scrambled to his feet because he couldn’t cause her another moment of pain. “I’m sorry, Annabelle.”
He took a step toward her, and she flinched back, shaking her head. “Don’t.”
Tate was on his feet, reaching out for her, but Eric stopped him.
“I’m going to go.” Belle looked down, focused on the shoes she held in her hand.
God, she couldn’t even look at the three of them. That fact, along with the sight of her bare feet, made him realize just how vulnerable she must feel. He’d made her self-conscious, stripped her bare. He couldn’t lie to himself. Eric might have been surprised, but Kell knew that if he hadn’t opened his mouth, the guy would have recovered. He and Tate would have not only saved the situation, but treasured her innocence.
Kell should have left her to the two men who would love her always, but he’d blurted out the first thing in his head, not even thinking about the possible outcome. He’d been shocked and bitter that he’d never be good enough for her. He hadn’t even realized how badly his words would crush her—more proof that he didn’t deserve her.
“Belle, I’m so sorry.” For so many things. That he’d upset her, yes. Mostly he was sorry that he was too damaged to show her how much she meant to him.
She gave him a shaky nod. “Me, too.”
As she headed to the door, Tate called her back. “Belle, let’s talk about this.”
She clutched the door handle and turned back. “I can’t tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the meeting.”
And then she was gone, the door closing quietly behind her with terrible finality.
“We can’t let her leave like this,” Tate said, starting after her.
Eric wedged himself between Tate and the door. “Give her a little time, man. I don’t think she’s up to talking tonight. Let her have some space. Once she’s less fragile and we’re less angry, we’ll all sit down and work it out, but now, we’ll only fight.”
“But she was crying.” Sometimes Tate was good at pointing out the obvious.
“We need to let her cry, if that’s what she wants.”
“She shouldn’t have to do it alone. She should know how we feel about her,” Tate argued.
“I think, deep down, she does. But if you go after her now, you’ll be sending her a message,” Eric explained. “She wants all of us. Contrary to dumbass’s suave speech tonight”—he pointed at Kell—“we all want her. If we’re going to make this right, we have to go after her together or not at all. And before we can do that, the three of us have to sit our asses down and hash this out because that was a total cluster fuck.”
Kellan looked to Eric, totally shocked that his old friend wasn’t shoving him out the door or starting another fight. “I think I should go find another room. This is a conversation for you and Tate. We can talk about how to break up the business later. I won’t be there for the meeting in the morning.”
Eric’s eyes rolled. “God, you’re such a dramatic fucker. We’re not doing that.”
“I still want to beat the fuck out of you.” Tate got up and ambled to the bathroom.
The shower came on, and Kellan figured their fight was over. He turned his attention to Eric, willing him to understand. “I can’t stay around, man. She won’t ever work with me again, and Tate will blame me for the rest of our lives if Belle walks away.”
“We’ll come up with a strategy and we won’t let her walk away. We’ll come up with a plan.” Eric sounded resolved as he started righting the furniture they’d nearly wrecked in their fight. “You’re lying to yourself if you think you don’t want her anymore.”
He should be walking out. There was no reason to stay. He’d sealed his fate the minute he’d broken her heart. So why wasn’t he packing up and moving down the line the way he always did? Because he owed his friends some honesty.
“I still do.”
“All right then, you’re lying to yourself if you think you don’t love her.”
What did he feel for Belle? Kell really wasn’t sure. He wanted her so badly, but it went beyond her body, beyond her lovely face. Of course he liked her. In fact, he loved to talk to her, loved to just sit in her presence. He found an odd peace when they were in the same room. They didn’t even have to be speaking, just going about their business. She often hummed a little as she worked. He always looked forward to the moment she inevitably turned to ask if he wanted coffee, showing her submissive, nurturing side. He’d loved to fantasize that she might go down on her knees and ask how else she might please
him.
The idea of never having those quiet afternoons with her again pierced his heart.
Fuck, did he even know what love was? Would he know if it bit him in the ass?
“I don’t know, man. I just know I can’t get married again.”
Eric regarded him with a serious expression. “When you weren’t thinking at all, you were setting up a D/s relationship with her. You take that seriously. You were more than willing to initiate her into Dominance and submission, but you won’t teach her about sex? Look, I was shocked, too. I have no idea how a woman that hot manages to stay a virgin, but I don’t care how many lovers she has—or hasn’t—had as long I get to be one of them. The last of them. Can you stand the thought of her kneeling for another Master?”
Eric’s words made him see red all over again. His pal might not be a good liar, but he was a fucking master of manipulation. He’d known exactly where to strike. “Of course I don’t, but I just broke her.”
“So help us put her back together.”
Eric made it sound so simple, but Kell didn’t see how. Belle would never forgive him. Would she?
“I’ll see her tomorrow, but only to apologize.” He would make