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All the heated reaction vanished in a millisecond replaced by wide eyes, and her mouth fell open. She glanced around the office as she must’ve realized their wealth. Maybe only now she realized they didn’t just work at MDR Software, but they owned the company.

Smith had seen the reaction many times—fancy things impressed women, sparkly things even more. What he hadn’t ever seen before, once the surprise faded from her eyes, she didn’t seem at all interested in that. “Seriously, a two-thousand-dollar bet on my orgasms?”

“Yes, kitten, we’re quite serious.” Brock grinned. “Are you willing?”

Christ, Smith could only grip the armrests to stop himself from going to her, tossing her legs over his shoulders, and having himself a snack. No woman had ever made him this damn hard.

In a slow, seductive slide of her finger she traced the rim of her glass as she regarded them. “I’m agreeable to join the bet.” Her cheeks flushed a color that wreaked havoc on Smith’s cock, making it ache in need. “But I’m afraid there’s a problem.”

Smith forced his attention away from her slender finger that he hoped would make a similar move on his dick. He also ignored her pinkish cheeks that he prayed burned deeper while she writhed beneath him. “Which is?”

She hesitated, then said on a quick breath, “I don’t orgasm easily.”

Smith smiled. As if that would be a problem. But it was glaringly obvious she pretended to be a sex kitten who was, in fact, more or less, in way over her beautiful head.

He could see himself respecting a woman like Kyra.

He exchanged a look with Brock, who gave him a firm nod, indicating their thoughts ran on the same line. Smith turned to Kyra again, and he noticed how she squirmed in her seat.

Exactly how he wanted her.

Smith appreciated a confident woman who fought to be brave, and he respected the trait, yet without a certain vulnerability to her, the appeal would fade. He loved pink cheeks and a stunned speechless woman under his touch. More to the point, enjoyed when a woman unraveled in his presence. To hold such heady power fed a greedy part in his soul.

In the minutes Kyra had been in his office, she’d given him all these things.

He tilted his head, regarding the treat awaiting him on the couch. “Quite the dilemma, isn’t it?” He stood from his seat and approached her. It delighted him how she sucked in a deep breath, and how ragged it sounded from her parted lips.

Once in front of her, he took the wineglass from her hands. The stunning clarity in her eyes mesmerized him. “Sit on the desk. Do not cross your legs.”

Her eyes blazed with reservations, even as she licked her lips. “Why?”

Smith scanned over her long, beautiful neck, her silky skin stretching over her hammering pulse. “We take our bets seriously and need to know what we’re up against. It’s a lot of money to wager if it’s bound to fail.” He leaned down into her face, his cock pressed against the zipper in his slacks. “Get on the desk, Kyra.”

Chapter Two

In two-point-two seconds, Kyra leaped to her feet. Her blood burned, even if Smith intimidated her, since she stood eye level with his chest. His tall stature was the first thing she noticed in his profile at the castle. Well, also his photo, where he looked like some Wall Street hunk.

The photo hadn’t done him justice. Good glorious Jesus, the man was hot as hell.

Not to say his appearance had been his only appeal. She was used to dealing with handsome and powerful men. Her employment with the PR firm Silverholt had those types. What had sealed the deal for their night was something she’d seen in his eyes, something that made her want to know him.

Now something else concerned her.

After what she’d heard and seen from these men, she wondered if she’d made a mistake by accepting their invitation. She lifted her chin, staring into Smith’s warm chocolate-brown eyes. “Are you doms?”

Smith shared a puzzled look with Brock. His gaze held a certain depth that Kyra decided was a healthy amount of confidence. He frowned when he said, “I suppose some might perceive us as dominant men.”

“No, not dominant men,” she corrected, saying the words slowly and carefully. She didn’t want any misunderstanding. “Doms. BDSM. As in, bossing women around, refusing orgasms, and demanding submission.”

Brock barked a laugh. His eyebrows arched over his piercing eyes, which to her annoyance, held an equal amount of haughtiness. “Do we look like men who would enjoy what you’ve suggested?”

Kyra scanned over Brock, noting the hard angles of his jawline. He reminded her of a fitness model she’d seen grace a cover once. Hell, he fit the model type with his sandy-colored hair, masculine but beautiful features, and his athletic frame.

Even he had caught her interest from the get-go. More than the little tickle between her thighs at the idea of being with Brock and Smith, she couldn’t quite pinpoint why she’d been so dead set on meeting them.

There was just something about them that drew her in like a bug to a light.

Smith had a thicker frame, like a man who’d spent hours in the gym. His jaw was softer than Brock’s, yet his lips were more defined. She didn’t doubt for a moment both men had six-packs and a plentiful display of muscles beneath their tailored suits.

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