by Mari Carr, Red Phoenix, Angel Payne, Sierra Cartwright, Jenna Jacob, Victoria Blue
“She’s sleeping like a goddess, all fuckable and amazing in nothing but a robe. It looks like every fantasy I’ve ever had of her.”
Drake must have come to my door and gone back again to report his findings. A smile played on my lips. He thinks I’m a goddess? That I look fuckable?
Warning! Keeping it professional. Right.
Those things shouldn’t have made me happy to overhear, they should have made me bound to my feet and set them straight about our relationship.
“I think she was freaking out earlier though. I could see it in her eyes. When you surprised the hell out of both of us with that kiss in the casino, she looked dizzy with lust, and then immediately at war with herself about it. I figured if I followed it up quickly with more positive, she would see it was what she wanted too.”
“Yeah, I can tell we have to go ever so slowly with her or she’ll spook on us. She’s like a little fawn out on its own for the first time. The innocence in her mannerisms—makes my dick hard enough to pound nails.”
“That’s really poetic man.” Fletcher’s laugh at his own joke filled the suite, making me smile again, even while I was processing what they were saying. They were definitely putting the moves on me. It wasn’t my lonely imagination. Now, to figure out a way to make them stop.
Even though that was the last thing I wanted.
Chapter Three
Drake hung up the phone as I padded into the living area of our suite. Having overheard the “feedback” from him and Fletcher about the robe, I decided to pull on some joggers and a loose tank top rather than flitting around in the garment that was already inspiring them to wickedness again. Best to defuse the situation now, with something more appropriate.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.” Fletcher sat next to me on the sofa. “We just ordered some dinner. They said it should be about thirty minutes. Are you hungry?”
“Starving, now that you mention it.” I rose. “I’d better call down and get something too. After we eat, we can run through talking points for tomorrow.”
Drake approached, looking a little pissed. Maybe a lot. Unwittingly, I shivered—and obeyed at once as he motioned for me to sit again. “Do you seriously think we’d order for ourselves and not get anything for you?”
Yikes. I didn’t really know how to handle him. “Well, uh—I don’t know. I—how—well what did you order? How would you even know what I like and don’t like?”
“Talia.”
Damn. Oh please, not the voice. It shot straight to the V between my legs—in every perfect way possible. How twisted was I that a man so daunting could also make me so hot?
“Drake.” It came out like a whisper, a lover’s caress—even though I meant to be standing up for myself.
“We’ve been together for months, day and night, putting this project together. I could probably catalog what you’ve eaten, how many times you’ve ordered certain things, and your exact reaction each time you’ve lifted a fork to your mouth.”
The look on his face warned me he was deadly serious. Any hope of breaking the strange tension with a “nutritionally obsessed” joke was lost.
“Ohhhkaayy.” It truly was the best answer I could come up with.
“How about this? If you don’t absolutely love what I’ve ordered for you, I’ll repay the debt with a massage.” He wiggled his fingers in the air. “You know all about the magic in these bad boys.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. His silly side was so endearing—and fascinating. He could shift from one mood to another like no one I’d known before. It was a little unsettling, too.
“That’s a pretty bold offer, mister. I may just pretend to not like my food just so you’ll have to pay up.”
He arched one dark brow. “Do you think you could lie to either one of us and get away with it? We would know the second it came off your tongue. You’re a terrible liar, Talia Perizkova, and we all know it.”
It was true. I couldn’t lie to save my own life. Even as a child, I got into so much trouble by ratting myself out, unable to take the pressure of having to weave a plausible story. In response to his insight, all I could do was eek out a dorky grin. In return, Drake and Fletch watched me with their hawk eyes. Thanks for nothing, guys. Somehow, over the past few months, these two stunningly gorgeous men had learned my every fault and feature—and now all I could do was look like a blithering idiot in front of them.
“Let’s change the subject,” I offered eagerly, nodding at Drake. “Maybe you could make me one of those amazing margaritas again. I suddenly feel like a good stiff drink.”
I swore Drake mumbled something about “other stiff things” as he stomped back to the bar. Fletcher’s bark of a laugh confirmed I wasn’t hearing things.
Keep it professional, damn it. Danger, Will Robinson!
Once Drake brought my drink, we all sat together and threw around a few ideas about the show the next morning. We’d have a mixture of independent and big box buyers at the booth. Everyone needed an individualized approach. I sipped on the tasty cocktail, which helped with the energy of the conversation. These exchanges always invigorated me. While both these men possessed brilliant business minds, they considered every single one of my ideas, on equal footing with their own. Everything was so much easier with them when we could restrict the subject to work. This is where the conversation needed—needed—to stay.
There was a knock on the door and we all surged to our feet, but I stopped the guys with a raised hand. “At least let me answer the door. All of your waiting on me is really going to my head.” I rolled my eyes to let them know I was only half-joking. “I’m going to be wrecked when I get home and no one is there to jump at my smallest whim.”
“We could fix that, too.”
I wasn’t sure who said that to my retreating back as I rushed to let the staff in with our food. Everything smelled amazing, like luxury spun into edible form, before the waiter from room service even lifted the silver domes from the plates. As soon he did, all the savory aromas had my mouth watering. All of my favorites were spread before me: shrimp cocktail to start, an amazing rib eye for dinner, and warm apple cobbler for dessert.
Well…wow. They really did have me pegged.
Drake and Fletcher joined me at the table as we dug into the most amazing room service meal I’d ever scarfed. And yes, “scarfed” was the proper verb. After just my first bite, I could barely look up from my plate. It felt like I hadn’t eaten in days.
“You win.” I finally took a break to concede it, pushing away the entree plate I’d all but slurped clean. As Drake threw out a cocky chuckle, I pointed my fork at the other plate, still filled with the cobbler. “This is amazing. You really did pick all my favorites. I don’t even remember ever having dessert with you guys. How did you know?”
Drake’s laugh mellowed to a knowing look. “One day, I heard you talking to your mother on the phone. You were making apologies—not easy ones—about being disappointed you couldn’t make it to Sunday dinner that week, due to a deadline we had looming on the FDA applications. She must’ve made some snide remark, because you looked pretty ruined before you sucked it up and plastered the game face back on.” He swung his head to Fletcher, who nodded that he’d witnessed the exact same moment. “We both felt terrible, knowing you were missing time with your family so you could stay and work on the launch. Then and there, we agreed to make it up to you eventually.”
For a long moment, I just stared at him. Then Fletch. Drake again. That had to be the most thoughtful thing anyone had done for me in a long damn time. When I was with Gavin, everything was about—well, Gavin. Only now did I fully realize how selfish and self-absorbed he’d really been. Gavin March probably wouldn’t have known if I loved shrimp or was allergic to them, let alone order the exact cut of steak I preferred, cooked so that it melted on my tongue with each and every bite.
I blinked through vision that had suddenly gone cloudy. The tears thickened, threatening to fall at any moment. Trying to ho
“Whoa.” Drake shot up, circled the table, and filled the chair next to mine. “Tolly. Honey. What is it?”
I stopped him with a panicked hand on his arm. “No. No. Everything is perfect. It’s just—it’s just that I don’t—I don’t know how to say all of what I’m thinking…and feeling…and not sound like a sappy girl.”
Fletcher came close on the other side by scooting his chair over. “We like sappy girls, baby. Can’t you see that yet?”
“No one has ever done something like this. All of this.” I dared glancing up at them both. “You both notice things about me without being told outright. It’s all…surreal.”
His eyes darkened to cobalt. “You deserve to be taken care of.”
I stiffened. “I can take care of myself.”
“Okay, listen to what I just said. You deserve to be taken care of, not you need to be taken care of. It’s a gift for us to do this. A privilege. You should be treated this way every single day, simply because of your kindness, your beauty…because you’re you. It makes us happy to make you happy.”
If he was trying to make things less surreal, he was really failing. I shifted in my seat and let him see every inch of my skeptical pout. “Well, from my experience, people ‘just do nice things for others’ so they can get what they want.”
Fletcher leaned in a little more. With one hand on the table and one clasping the back of my chair, he was close enough that I got a deep inhalation of his obscenely masculine cologne, probably blended with the pheromones of a real stallion. “Then you’ve been hanging around the wrong people, love.”
His last word guaranteed I was now declaring more comments off limits. Instead I busied myself with the cobbler. Outside of Mama’s, this was the best version of the dessert that I’d ever tasted. I closed my eyes, savoring all the amazing flavors playing hopscotch in my mouth.
Inside those three seconds, a warm hand covered mine.
I popped my eyes open to find Fletcher filling my view. He was just inches from my face, with a hungry look that made me squirm even more.
“Can I have a bite?” He barely whispered the request, but moved his hand to let me lift the spoon. Boldness took over. I dipped in the spoon, loading it with a generous bite before lifting it to his outrageously full lips. I watched his every move, holding my breath…hoping like hell not to break the spell.
His lips closed around the magical mush of dough, fruit, and sugar. He never ceased boring his stare into my core, lighting me up from the inside like a Halloween pumpkin. Not breathing, I watched him chew slowly, seductively…entrancing me more deeply each second. And I let him. And ohhh, it felt good. So good.
When a bit of apple clung to his lips, I went ahead and obeyed all the new instincts flowing through me, swiping my finger at them. With an approving rumble, Fletcher grabbed my hand. He pulled my fingertip in, gently sucking, still keeping me prisoner to his deep blue stare. I dragged in air, struggling to stay upright as my head swam with dizzy temptation—
But the moment my lips parted, he swooped in. His strong mouth pressed against mine and I was completely lost, swept out to sea, consumed by the perfect current pounding between us. At that moment, I knew I had a choice, though it sure didn’t feel like one. Larger forces than me—than even him—had been awakened. Though it was probably the most inappropriate thing I could do, I returned the kiss with all the strength in my body.
And I didn’t want to stop.
Next to us, Drake had become a statue. It surprised me, but turned me way the hell on. I felt him there, knowing he was watching every detail of Fletcher’s mouth on mine. When he let out a rough hiss of approval, my desire was amped into the stratosphere. I was lost to any coherent thought, could only focus on the electricity jolting from where Fletcher toyed with my lips. He grew the intensity of the contact, pressing at my mouth with his incessant tongue, continuing to play along the seam where we meshed.
I could no longer fight him—or all the incredible things he made me feel. With a sigh, I willingly opened for his exploration. He tasted like cinnamon and warm brown sugar, making the kiss even sweeter than it would be naturally. I was victim to it all. I wanted it all. I tilted my head just a bit, making the fit even better. That caused a low groan from Drake, communicating what sounded like physical agony. What did that mean? Did he want to keep looking on…or was everything Margaux had told me about them really true? Did Drake want to…be a part of this?
I opened my eyes and pulled back from Fletcher, though was unsure what to do next. What would happen next.
“That was so fucking hot. I’ve been dreaming about it for so long.” Fletcher’s eyes were heavy with desire.
With a jolt, I realized that I had been, too. Kissing him had come so easily…so naturally.
And yeah…I wanted to kiss Drake, too.
What on Earth was happening to me?
And did I really want that answer right now?
I swiveled my gaze to Drake, summoning the sexiest look I could muster. “Do you…want a taste too?” In for a penny…
He nodded his head with slow, silent deliberation. I didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared slightly, like a wild animal taking in his prey through all of his senses. It made my stomach dance, just as untamed, racing with excitement. That should have been my warning sign. My body’s scream to stop, but I couldn’t. I no longer wanted to.
Drake’s kiss was completely different. He reached to the back of my skull, cradling my nape, dragging me closer until I tumbled from my chair into his. Instantly, I could feel his stiff cock under my ass. His lips met mine with force, making it nearly impossible to hold on to sanity. His tongue swept through my mouth, tasting, claiming, dominating. I sucked air in through my nose, his overwhelming presence making me swirl with dizziness. A whimper erupted in my throat, but I had no idea what it meant. How I felt. What I wanted.
Did I want them to stop?
Or did I long to barrel forward and never look back?
“Do you like the way Drake kisses you, baby? The way he holds you in place, bending you to his will?”
I came up for air long enough to hear Fletcher’s taunting questions. Was he serious, though? Did he really expect me to answer such an obvious question? Now? And why did it make every inch of my sex twist with new desire?
“I’m going to take that dreamy look in your eye as a yes.” He chuckled a bit and moved in closer to Drake and me.
I didn’t miss how Drake kept watching me, taking in every muscle tick, every inhaled breath. He was so sexy and powerful, his strong arm wrapped around my waist, the other hand still buried in my hair. He rubbed a thumb along my skull, massaging away any anxiety that developed when my head won the battle and ran away on a path of self-doubt.
“You are so beautiful,” he finally whispered, his moist breath tickling my ear lobe. He trailed a few kisses down my neck while tilting my head back for his own access.
Fletcher hummed out a deep approval. “You could say it fifty times a day, my brother, and it wouldn’t be enough.” His hand caressed down the other side of my neck. “Sweet girl, you are everything we dreamed you would be.”
My voice was husky and low when I finally found the strength to speak. “You’ve dreamed of me?”
“Every time I close my eyes,” he drawled. “Every time…there you are. I’ve come by my own hands more times than I care to keep track of. When I do, I’ve been thinking of your juicy, perfect mouth…how it would feel to finally kiss it…to sink my cock into it.”
I sputtered a little. All his dirty talk was making me gush down below, tying the rest of my insides into a network of moist knots.
“Fletcher.” I had a complete thought to add to that, but it slipped away when he nuzzled into my neck and hair, matching the erotic onslaught delivered by his best friend. Ohhhh…man. They were really, really good at this. Within seconds, the three of us were tangled in each other’s arms and legs. The two of them pressed even closer, surrounding me in their power and heat. It was wonderful. So damn wonderful.
“What, baby?” Fletcher’s voice, always underlined with a musical quality, was entrancing in its blatant arousal. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do whatever you say—except stop. I can’t stop now. I’ve had just a little taste, and now I want more. Your skin, your softness, your smell…it lures me in, Talia. You have me in your spell.”
“We shouldn’t—”
“We should.”
“I’m serious.” But even as it spilled out, I tilted my head back, yearning for their seduction to continue. We needed to stop. I had to make them stop. I tried so hard to make them…
Right. And this joint was really a Holiday Inn.
I wasn’t trying—at all. It all felt so good…too good. I couldn’t convince myself it was wrong, even knowing damn well my family would disown me at once over something like this. If Mama, Papa, and the rest ever found out, I’d be a Perizkova outcast the moment the news spread.
But feeling the barely-contained passion of these men, one throbbing into me from below, one continuing to seduce me from the front, I could only really process one question.
Now what?
The men moved with sensual, perfect precision, as if reading my thoughts as well as each other’s. They functioned almost as one being, shifting and sliding, touching and teasing, growling and encouraging. They were relentless about breaking down my walls, their mighty spirits focused on simply making me feel good.
I felt Fletcher’s hands at the hem of my shirt, toying with my exposed skin, igniting my desire. I willingly raised my arms when he tugged to lift it over my head, leaving me in a yellow and white polka dot bra and my loose jogging pants. His fingers skated up my sides and back down again, in appreciation of the tan flesh.
Drake finally lifted his head from my neck long enough to take in his new view. “Shit. I must’ve been a very good boy this year. Christmas is here again.”
-->