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Her head fell back again and he bit her neck as sheer ecstasy burned through her veins.
Her body shook. Her pussy contracted around his fingers and she didn’t relinquish them, loving the feeling of being filled as she stole every ounce of pleasure from the fiery climax.
And simply reveled in the nearness of Christian and Rory. Luxuriated in the way their entire focus had been on her.
Thank God Jewel had not kept this forbidden romantic scenario a secret from her. Because Bayli knew she’d just tapped into the ultimate in sexual decadence!
FIFTEEN
Christian’s apartment was nothing short of spectacular, as Bayli had expected all along.
She barely had a memory of her two lovers disentangling from her, zipping her up, sliding her thong into place, and pouring a brandy to share.
The stroll through the enormous and opulent lobby was pretty much a blur, too. Inside the elevator, she’d stared at the shiny doors and thrilled over the reflection of the three of them, looking quite devilish. Then they’d stepped through the double entrance to Christian’s apartment and she’d taken in the wide-open, gorgeously decorated space with bulging eyes and a slack jaw.
While Christian and Rory divested themselves of their jackets and cuff links and Christian fixed drinks, she wandered through the vast living room with its tall corner fireplace and all the plush furniture facing the floor-to-second-level windows that showcased Central Park. Sprawled right before them. From the south end to as far as the eye could see. Which was pretty damn far from this vantage point.
As Christian lit the multiple fires and dimly set chandeliers, she passed through glass doors to the terrace. Rory followed closely behind.
“He has a swimming pool,” she drolly commented. “Why am I not surprised?”
“And a spa.”
All sleek and stylish, with water features made of flat, polished obsidian stone, all artistically lit. Bayli stood at the railing and took in the scene once more.
“Not too shabby, eh?” Rory said from beside her.
“Your apartment is incredible, too. Remind me to never show you mine.”
“Bayli.”
“Shh.” She kissed him. It was meant to be a quick kiss, but of course Rory took charge of it. His arms slid around her waist and he hauled her up against him.
Where Christian’s kisses were intense and all-consuming, Rory’s held the playful promise of wicked things to come, making her toes curl.
When she finally pulled away, she breathlessly said, “I had a point to make.”
He grinned deviously. “So did I.”
Unraveling from him—and fanning her flushed face with a hand—she took a couple of steps back so that she didn’t fall into his embrace again.
She told him, “This is all extremely nice,” gesturing toward the terrace and Christia
n’s apartment in general, “but it’s not the reason I’m here. Yes, I want to someday be someone and maybe have my own swimming pool, too. You know this about me already, and it’s one hundred percent true. I want more for myself than I’ve ever had—I’m sure that’s also how Christian felt from the time he was a kid. But … there’s something much more enticing and poignant about all of this that has nothing to do with material desires.”
Rory crossed his arms over his chest. Cocked his head to the side. “Tell me.”
“It’s like when you read a novel and the character has painted himself into a corner and, as the reader, you’re wondering how the hell he’ll ever free himself. How he’ll escape whatever drudgery or peril or cage he’s facing with no obvious route in sight or in mind. And then something mysterious happens—he discovers a secret or accidentally flips a switch that reveals a private passage through the walls or he finds a trapdoor. Whatever. And suddenly a slew of new opportunities are laid out before him. It’s a very heady sensation for the reader as much as for the character.”
“You might be losing me on this one, babe.”
She laughed softly. “Think about it. When I came to your restaurant it was because I needed a job. Would I have been content coming in three nights a week to seat people who’d look right through me—a nobody—because they’re more interested in seeing and being seen in a roomful of VIPs?”
“Likely not. One of the reasons I didn’t hire you.”
“Smart of you. But I faced a corner because you turned me away. Luckily, I had the gig at the fund-raiser with the opportunity to impress Christian. He was my trapdoor … Except.” She held up her finger as Rory started to speak. “Not in the way I’d anticipated. The show will be a fantastic break for me, and I’m eternally grateful for the chance to prove I can do this, for being chosen. But I got painted right back into the corner, because I came full circle with you.”
“I’m your corner?”
