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Cole held his palm upward. “Ready, baby?”
She looked in Deacon’s eyes.
“We’ll make you happy. I swear,” he whispered. “It’s your decision. Always your call.”
She swallowed.
She wanted him. She wanted Cole. Damn it, she wanted all of this.
Abby took a step away and put her hand in Cole’s.
His blue eyes fired with desire. “We’re going to give you everything you ever wanted.”
His hand clasped hers. She stepped over the threshold into the suite and the doors closed behind her. She had stepped into her future and left the past behind.
23
Abby
The way her heels clacked against the marble sounded as if they were ticking off seconds from a clock. Counting her last seconds of innocence with every stride.
She tossed the sequined clutch she carried to the party on the couch, expecting Deacon and Cole to pounce as soon as she was free.
Deacon walked to the bar. “Should we order dinner and have a drink while we wait?”
Her eyes widened. “We’re having dinner first?”
Cole laughed. The sound of his voice was clear and deep. She loved it.
“Yes, baby. We’re starving. And there is no reason for all of us to be hungover tomorrow. Don’t forget. We’re here to work. Tomorrow is going to be huge for all of us.”
He kissed her on the cheek in passing, when he walked to meet Deacon at the bar.
She felt stupid. She felt like she was inexperienced. She was. She’d never slept with two men before. There were a few books she had read with a small scene here and there, but she didn’t know what actually happened. How could she satisfy them? How could they both want her so desperately?
“What should I order?” Deacon asked. “The chefs know our favorites, but we don’t know yours.” He looked at Abby. “What do you want tonight, sweetheart?”
What she wanted was to be hauled to the master suite and touched and teased, but that wasn’t on any of the five-star restaurant menus.
“Maybe a grilled chicken salad?”
“You have the world’s best chefs at your beck and call and you want a chicken salad? You can do better than that.” Deacon strolled forward, handing her a drink. “You can have anything you want. Think about that. Anything.”
“I’ve tried to tell you. I’m simple. I don’t need fancy dinners and bottles of wine that cost a thousand dollars. I’m fine with chicken salad. It doesn’t have to be something from France I can’t pronounce.” The frustration in her voice came to the surface.
“Hey, hey. Don’t be upset. I just want you to be happy. I want to give you the best.”
Deacon quickly wrapped an arm around her. Within seconds Cole was on her other side lifting her eyes to his.
“The money doesn’t define us, Abby.”
“It doesn’t?” It was difficult, but she broke free from them and walked to the window. She could see all of Las Vegas from here. The city sparkled in front of her like a diamond. “Look at this view. Look at the suite. The jet. Even this dress I’m wearing, and the panties I’m not.” She glared at them. “The money is everywhere I turn. It’s almost all I can see.”
Deacon looked quizzically at Cole. “What’s going on? What is all the money talk about?”
Cole shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know all of it. She mentioned tonight that she might not be a fan of our billion-dollar company and what we have in our bank accounts.”
Abby chewed the inside of her cheek nervously. She may have just ruined everything.
