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Now, Brock understood the level of confidence she had exuded. Kyra had worked among and dealt with many CEOs and other high-profile clients. “What do you do for the company?”
He tucked his finger under the hem of her panties and moved them aside, exposing her pussy. Her cheeks now flushed brighter, and her pupils dilated as she whispered, “Manager of public relations.”
Brock slid his finger over her swollen clit, and when he lowered his touch, he wasn’t at all surprised to find her hot and wet. “How long have you worked for Silverholt?”
Her eyes rolled back into her head and closed for only a second before she snapped them open to him again, all heated and very sexy. “I’ve worked there since I graduated from school, and I’ll always work there.”
Smith gave Brock a curious look, and Brock also didn’t understand her reply. He turned to Kyra as he continued to rub her lower lips, drawing her arousal up to her clit and swirling the bud. “Why are you so sure you won’t leave?”
“My father owns the company.” She licked those plump lips, and her voice became raspy. “Or I should say he owned the company.”
Brock withdrew his hand from her slick heat and settled it on her inner thigh. “We had looked into Silverholt as a possible PR agency when we moved to Baltimore, but chose to go with Oldbank instead.”
Her cheeks were still flushed, yet the hazy arousal in her eyes had faded. “I know. I remember when HighDot merged with MDR Software, and we heard we lost the account.” She smiled, giving them a nonchalant wave. “Business is business.”
Brock studied her, now realizing Kyra had pain in her past too. “We chose Oldbank merely because your father had passed away around the time we moved to Baltimore. We thought the company might be in for big changes and would be unstable because of that.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s business, not personal. I never mix the two. And you’re right—big changes did take place after his death.”
Smith’s head tilted, his eyebrows drawn together. “If your father owned Silverholt, why don’t you run the company?”
She slid her fingers around the rim of her glass. “Because I don’t want to. Never did.” She gave a halfhearted shrug. “I love my job and didn’t want to move up the corporate ladder, so to speak.”
Smith exchanged a long look with Brock. Now, it made sense why Kyra wasn't impressed by their wealth. She was wealthy herself. In fact, Brock suspected incredibly wealthy. Most people who came from old money didn’t flaunt it, and Kyra didn’t exude the air of a rich woman.
He liked that about her.
More so, something else impressed him. Kyra clearly knew what she wanted in her life, and she went for it. That made Brock relate to her. “You stayed in your position at Silverholt because you love your job?”
She gave him quite the cute look and even sweeter smile. “I went to university for my job, of course I love it. My father knew I didn’t want to run the company. After he was diagnosed with lung cancer, he arranged it all so I didn’t have to deal with the company’s ins and outs when he died.”
Smith regarded her while he rubbed his jaw. “You seem pretty adamant that you wouldn’t ever change your mind about taking over at Silverholt. You’re young, Kyra, how do you know you won’t want that position in the future?”
She gave them both a hard look. “Important jobs, like your jobs, mean long working hours. I’ve seen it with my father. He worked day and night, and it destroyed his marriage to my mother. That life never interested me.”
Brock wanted to disagree with her, because deep down he thought if he loved a woman enough, he could make time for her. But he also saw truth in what she said. If a woman didn't understand what running a business entailed, no relationship could last.
In fact, it’s why they’d joined the Castle Dolce Vita, and why Smith had been riding his ass to hire new employees. They didn’t have the time to locate women for casual encounters. The castle gave them access to what they needed and desired, and in the short free time they had daily.
Glancing away from Kyra to Smith, Brock noticed Smith’s clenched jaw. Brock understood—the conversation had once again turned serious. As he’d done before, he set to lightening the mood by sliding his fingers to the junction between her thighs.
The moment he reached wet, hot flesh, Kyra gasped. Brock gathered her wetness up to her clit, where he rubbed the bud beneath his fingertips. He stared at Kyra, who now gripped the table as she looked out at the busy restaurant. Each time he slid his fingers lower, he noticed her more wet than the time before.
Kitten liked being naughty.
Hell, he loved it too.
Smith leaned back in his chair and sipped at his wine, watching her. That curve of his mouth he always had when he enjoyed something erotic appeared on his face. Brock couldn’t restrain his half grin too. Beneath his hand, he sensed Kyra’s rising climax in the tremble of her thigh.
He moved faster and rubbed harder against the swollen bud, taking a quick look at the others sitting at their tables in the restaurant. No one paid any attention to them, nor did they notice that right at this moment Kyra erupted into orgasm, causing her to bang her knee on the table, rattling the glasses on top.
Not even the waiter had any clue when he appeared at the table with a tray in hand, all because Kyra had stayed perfectly silent. Brock had done his best to move only his hand, not his arm. No one but the three of them knew what had taken place.
Their dirty little secret.
Brock wanted more.
The waiter placed their orders of Brock’s steak dinner, Smith’s chicken and rice, and Kyra’s pasta on the table. The server turned to Kyra. “Do you need anything else, miss?”
