Tears welled in her eyes. “But it’s my birthday.”
“I’ll make it up to you. Next year I won’t miss it.” Her father smiled. “I promise, Kyra.”
Kyra blinked out of the memory, staring at the office door Smith and Brock had entered, a cold shiver sliding through her.
Her father never kept his promise.
Chapter Seven
One month had passed in a blur of exciting nights of hot sex. Thirty long days went by with Kyra daydreaming about those erotic adventures during her workday. The passing weeks had left her body happy and her smile genuine.
The hum of the limousine’s engine slowing drew Kyra away from the memory of her wicked nights spent between two delicious men. She looked out her window, noticing the driver stopping in front of the Hotel Monaco Baltimore.
Only a moment later, her door whisked open, and she stepped out into a warm, dry night. The driver shut the door behind her, and tipped his hat. “Have a wonderful evening, miss.”
“Thank you.” She smiled.
It’d been a while since she’d been driven anywhere in a limousine. Her father had enjoyed the luxury of such things, but Kyra preferred a car she could drive herself. Furthermore, no matter how nice the limo was, it would’ve been nicer if Brock and Smith were in the car as they had planned.
She’d seen the empty seats and experienced the slow slide of disappointment before she’d received the phone call from Smith. He told her that they would have to meet her at the charity event tonight because a meeting held them up.
In the month she’d spent with them, she couldn’t even count on two hands how many times they were late or had to rearrange a dinner date because of work. The tension in her chest that had developed the first night she’d slept at their place hadn’t left her. In fact, it’d become worse.
With a heavy feeling forming in her stomach, she pushed the thoughts from her mind, knowing tonight wasn’t about her. Standing on the sidewalk, she inhaled the scents of stale air mixed with car exhaust.
The hotel, which was located in the Ohio Railroad headquarters of Baltimore, had been the annual spot for the charity gala hosted by both MDR Software and the hotel, which benefited Baltimore’s foster families. The silent and live auctions, as well as the three-hundred-a-plate dinners, helped foster kids attend camp and join sports teams, and some even received scholarships to go to college.
Kyra noted that carved into the stone was 1906 indicating the hotel’s age. She'd been in this hotel before, and it was five stars all the way.
The greeter standing at the revolving door with the earpiece and clipboard in his hand told her enough that tonight the hotel was completely off-limits to the public and had been rented out for the evening. She approached, and when she reached the young man, he said, “Name, please.”
“Kyra Garner,” she replied.
Holding a piece of paper in his hands, he read for only a split second, indicating Smith and Brock put her name at the top of the list. “Enjoy your night, Ms. Garner.”
She entered and stepped into the three-story lobby with its original marble floor and Tiffany stained-glass windows. Kyra thought the hotel looked modern and slick, yet somehow timeless too.
Striding down the hallway lined with crystal chandeliers, she passed other attendees and smiled when she caught people watching her. No doubt, the Valentino dress Brock and Smith had delivered yesterday drew some attention.
The floor-length dress was backless, and the black lace on the gown was gorgeous. It surprised her how attentive the men were to her size. The dress fit her like a second skin and appeared designed for her body.
Bella had demanded Kyra go to the spa, and she listened. She had her hair done in a romantic braid updo, had a manicure and pedicure, plus her makeup applied too. Bella had said, every time Kyra objected to being spoiled, that a dress this nice needed to have a woman in it who looked equally as beautiful. While Kyra had felt fussed over, she happened to think the final look was all worth it.
Tonight, she did feel beautiful.
Kyra entered the main ballroom, and her breath instantly became trapped in her throat. Brock and Smith had clearly spared no expense for the event. She strode forward passing people enjoying cocktail hour. Luxurious and historical, the ballroom stunned her with its gorgeous gold chair covers and large centerpieces of fresh flowers.
The venue, however, didn’t hold her attention long. The two men standing near the bar straight ahead made her heart race.
Brock and Smith were both dressed in tuxedos, and they were gorgeous. As if they sensed her arrival, they turned to her. The space between them became charged with sexual heat.
Needing to touch them, she forced her feet to move.
As she drew closer, she spotted raw desire in the depths of their eyes, causing a shiver to tickle low in her belly. Those intoxicating looks had held her captive these past weeks. She liked how they looked at her as if no other woman could possibly compare to her. It’s what kept her seeing past the dinner cancellations and the always being late. When she reached the men, Brock and Smith took a step forward, their gazes doing a full sweep of her body. Under their stares, her nipples puckered, which of course made Brock smirk.
“My God, Kyra,” Smith murmured. “You look ravishing.”
“All thanks to the both of you. You have amazing taste.” She smiled at Smith, then at Brock. “Thank you for the dress.”
“You’re welcome.” Brock raised his finger and did a circular movement. “Let’s have a look at it all.”
Kyra complied, spun on her heels, and the men groaned behind her. Then as two warm, hard bodies rested against her, the air thickened. Smith’s lips pressed against her shoulder, as Brock’s slid over her cheek. Her eyes shut of their own accord as awareness of the two men consumed her. Smith’s hand tightened around her hips while Brock’s finger gently slid over her spine.
Heat flooded between her thighs and she squeezed her legs together, relishing in the ache there. The mood flowing around her was charged with sexual electricity, and she wanted to turn up the voltage.
As her nipples puckered tighter, she opened her eyes to see a distinguished man watching her. That’s all it took for her to blink into focus as she remembered they weren’t alone. Quickly scanning the room, she noticed the man hadn’t been the only one looking. There happened to be quite a few people watching their exchange. With a blush to her cheeks, she took a step back, making Brock and Smith narrow their eyes.
She pulled herself together and slid into professional mode. “Would you like a drink? Some wine? A beer?”
Smith shook his head. “Nothing for me.”
Brock gave his classically light smile, even if his eyes were guarded. “I’m good for now, kitten.”
Kyra understood they had their business faces on tonight, and she doubted they’d be drinking much. Her father’s professional attitude was so different from the father she remembered. Fun, sensitive, and goofy, no one in the PR world saw him like that. And at the sudden reminder of him, her heart clenched. Her father had loved donating, and attending charity events…just like this one.
Smith took a step forward, his eyes searching hers. “Are you all right?”
She forced the memory away. “Of course.”
In truth, this was her first charity event since her dad had died. Perhaps with her being on edge with the men, feeling emotional wasn’t all that shocking. “Let me grab myself a glass of wine.”
She turned, exhaled a long breath, so glad neither Brock nor Smith had stopped her. Glancing around the room, she noticed many people giving her curious looks. No doubt they wondered who she was and why she had two men touching her at the same time.
To her right, she spotted a few employees from Oldbank—the PR company Brock and Smith had chosen over Silverholt—and embarrassment washed through her. She experienced the weight of all their judgmental stares on her as if they could read into her soul and knew she’d joined the Castle Dolce Vita.
A woman—in her early seventies, Kyra thought—dressed in a peacock-blue dress scanned Kyra from head-to-toe. “My dear, you have every set of eyes on you. Tell me, I must know, which one are you dating?”
Kyra bristled at the question. “Dating?”
The woman smiled, her pale blue eyes twinkling. “Which one of the MDR men are you dating? I saw you talking to them and was curious who has captured the heart of such a beautiful young lady.”
Kyra’s mind stuttered under the direct assault of such a blatant question. In all her preparations for tonight, she hadn’t considered having to answer that question. Perhaps she’d been in a whirlwind with Brock and Smith, which seemed like one big fantasy where people wouldn’t be asking about their affiliation.
A fantasy where a ménage relationship was perfectly normal and accepted. Where no one would judge what they were doing. Kyra realized she had no idea how to answer. Besides, she wasn’t dating them. She was having the best sex of her life with them.
After a quick second, she said the only thing she thought appropriate. “I’m actually not dating either of them. We’re close friends.”
The woman laughed. In a much quieter voice, she said, “I might be old, but I’m not blind. Those two men are in love with you.”
In love…
No, the woman had it wrong. In fact, they weren’t sharing an emotional relationship. Kyra hadn’t even invited them out with her best friends. Of course, she did have dinner dates with Brock and Smith and had seen a couple of movies with them. Her mind raced, making her realize that for the past two weekends she’d never left their sides. Sure, they’d had to work during that time. Other than that, they’d been inseparable.
Oh, fuck!
Her heart hammered, but she ignored the swell of discomfort. “Like I said, we’re close, just not in the way you’re thinking.”
The woman snorted. “I’ve been married five times. I know what love looks like, m’dear. Both of those men are lovesick.” The woman winked, nudging Kyra’s arm. “And I saw it in your eyes too.”
Another bartender brought the woman her wine, and she tipped her glass at Kyra. “Best you choose quickly, dear. They have a business to run, and if you leave it much longer, you’ll have them sparring over you.”
Without another word or piece of unwanted advice, the woman strode off. Kyra scanned the room, and her throat tightened. If people knew she wasn’t only dating one of them, but she’d been sharing a bed with both of them, and at the same time, they’d be horrified.
Though what made the room spin around Kyra was the realization the woman hadn’t been wrong. Kyra couldn’t deny she cared about Brock and Smith, and she could only blame herself for that. She knew getting involved with them was dangerous for her after she’d talked to Kole and Bella, and she’d known she could become attached.
She’d allowed it to happen anyway.
What had she done?
The bartender returned with her wine, and Kyra didn’t even look at him. She downed the drink in a few big gulps. When she lowered the wineglass to the bar and had the strength to glance up, the barkeep gave her a quizzical look.
Did he know what she’d been doing?
Sweat coated her skin, and the air in the room seemed thick. The event no longer mattered. She had to get out of there…and fast.
Leaving everyone behind and hearing nothing but her racing heartbeat, she rushed to leave the ballroom. She hurried down the hallway and headed out to the foyer. When she reached the doorway, she heard someone call her name, but she didn’t stop.
She ran.
Kyra passed the greeter at the door, and he wished her a good night. Again, she heard someone yell her name behind her. That’s when she realized both Smith and Brock called out to her. She couldn’t stop. She needed air. She needed to breathe. Had she fallen for two men at the same time? And if so, could they somehow make this work between them?
She’d been so wrapped up in the fantasy she had longed to live and had been living for the past month, but how could this relationship work? She had allowed her emotions to entwine with what was meant to be casual sex.
Stupid, Kyra!
Once on the sidewalk again, she jogged as well as she could in her heels. She needed to think this out. Even if she slept with them individually it wouldn’t put her in the best light, but that woman had seen her affection for them.
What did that make her look like?
A tease, leading two men on, she thought.
Reaching the corner of the street, a breeze swept over her skin, fluttering the loose strands of hair around her face. She didn’t even know where she was going, only that she needed to get away.
She passed under the streetlamp, about to cross the street, when a hand wrapped around her arm. She turned, catching sight of Smith’s wide, worried eyes. “Kyra, did you not hear us calling you?”
“I…” She closed her mouth, not even knowing what to say.
“Oh, shit, she heard us all right.” Brock breathed heavily. Apparently, they’d been a good distance behind her and had run to catch up. “Why would you take off?”
She stared at both men as they stood under the streetlight, so aware of why she cared for them. Smith was the strong, unwavering dependable rock who seemed to read right into her soul. Brock was the playful, lighthearted one who held a charming confidence.
Together they made up her perfect man. The one she’d always wanted and dreamed of, and the idea of ending this with them shattered her heart.
With her throat closing and stomach tightening, she whispered, “What are we doing?”
Smith hesitated. “Attending a charity function.”
“No.” She shook her head, a sudden coldness coursing through her veins. “This…with us…what are we doing?”
Brock exchanged a long look with Smith, then arched a brow. “Dating.”
The breeze that had been warm before now seemed freezing, and the night even darker. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing the chill out of her skin. “We can’t date.”
Smith took off his tuxedo jacket and reached out to her. Kyra stepped away from his touch, and he frowned. “Are you unhappy with us?”
Though her first instinct was to say no, that wasn’t entirely true. Their life, how busy they were with their business, she’d sworn to herself she’d never be that woman. She’d never be like her mother who never saw her husband.
While that made a rock form in her stomach, even how Smith talked seemed upward of ridiculous. “See, like that, you’re talking like we’re all together.” Kyra looked at them as the light above beamed down on their heads. “You honestly think this could work out?” To Brock, she asked, “The three of us in a relationship?”
“Why not?” He shrugged, leaning up against the lamp. “We’ve been doing fine so far.”
“How can you say that? It’s…” She almost said weird, but nothing about being sandwiched between these two men was weird. No, it was so right it terrified her. “How would we live?”
Both men regarded her before slow smiles filled their faces, which was not the reaction she’d expected. Smith moved in close and under the assault of his warm eyes, Kyra froze. He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Ah, I see the problem. You’re in love with us, aren’t you?”
A hot shiver raced alongside the coldness in her body. “I…”
Brock settled in next to her, unleashing his charming smile. “And that frightens you, kitten.”
Her eyes fluttered as Brock’s smooth voice melted across her, matched with the burn from Smith’s touch. She stepped back to get some bre
athing room, not allowing herself to go there again. When her back hit the brick wall of the building behind her, she snapped her eyes open. “I’m not scared. I’m…”
“Scared,” Smith and Brock stated in unison.
She fought to find a comeback. “Someone asked me tonight which one of you I’m dating.”
Brock nodded. “We saw you talking to Mrs. Hampton, who happens to be the nosiest woman alive.”
Smith’s eyes softened. “Ah, so that’s why you ran. You didn’t know what to say, and you panicked.” He leaned against the wall next to her. “All right, Kyra, what did you say to the meddlesome Mrs. Hampton?”
“That we were close friends,” she replied.
“Good answer.” Brock gave a crisp nod. “Even though I would’ve been fine if you told the lady to take her questions and fuck off.”
“You can’t be serious?” Kyra gasped. “I was your guest tonight, and you two have to be on your best behavior.” Didn’t she know that well from her father? “A scandal like this could destroy your business.”
“Business is the word here, Kyra,” Smith interjected in a hard voice. “These people have no reason to dig into our personal life.” He took her hand, tugging her forward. “Yes, we’ll have to have discretion, but we did tonight, didn’t we? I kissed your shoulder. Brock kissed your cheek. You don’t need to tell anyone anything.”
“What if they ask?” she countered.
Smith snorted. “You say what you said. We are close. Why is it anyone’s concern what we do in the bedroom?”
Okay, so he had a point, but… “They were all looking at me, judging me.”
“Of course they were watching you, kitten. You’re drop-dead gorgeous.” Brock gave an unamused laugh. “The women were probably envious. The men…” His jaw clenched, nostrils flared. “I think it’s best we don’t find out what they were thinking.”
Kyra’s lips parted, but Smith interjected, “Brock’s right—people in that room are so straight arrowed they wouldn’t even consider us to be in a ménage relationship. They might be curious if you were dating one of us, but, Kyra, why does it matter what they think?”
Bet on Ecstasy (Pact of Seduction) Page 7