Page 8 of The Penthouse


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I turn and make my way to the bus stop, cutting off their chances to say anything else.

Maybe I’ll get lucky and the bus will come early today.

But when I hear a car door close behind me, my heart races.

Josh grabs me from behind. I know it’s him because I can smell his fresh, clean scent. He flips me around and pulls me flush against him. For some reason, I don’t fight him. I don’t scream and cause a scene.

For some strange fucking reason, when he holds me like this, I feel…safe.

What is wrong with me?

“It’s pretty cold out here,” Josh murmurs, his breath clouding the air between us.

The temperature has dropped significantly since this morning, almost feeling like the beginning of winter even though it’s only October.

My teeth begin to chatter. “Yes.”

“You must be exhausted.”

I jump at the sound of Christian’s voice behind me. I turn around, and now he’s grabbing my waist and pulling my ass to his hardened cock. I’m sandwiched between these two huge men, and I’ve never felt so warm and safe in my life.

“Yeah. I guess I’m pretty tired,” I say quietly, leaning into Christian’s warmth.

“And your body must ache,” Josh whispers in my ear. A shiver runs down my spine. I can feel him grinning against my earlobe.

I nod. Warmth spreads from the pit of my stomach to the tips of my toes. “My feet are pretty sore,” I agree.

That’s such an understatement. My feet are throbbing, my back is killing me, and I feel like I might keel over from exhaustion soon.

“We can take care of that for you, Brie,” Michael says from my right. He’s blocking my view of the street. Blockingmefrom the street.

Anyone looking in our direction wouldn’t be able to see what’s happening. No one can see Christian slip his hand into my pants and rub circles on my clit. They can’t see Josh sliding his hand up my shirt and pinching my nipples. And they can’t hear Michael whispering all of the dirty things he and his friends are going to do to me back at the penthouse.

Fuck.

Chapter 4

Brie

Theride is only fifteen minutes, but it feels much longer thanthat with these three. When I asked them where they were taking me, Michael just said “home”.

Home.

My home is miles away from wherever we’re headed, but I don’t say that out loud. They think I’m theirs. They think since I agreed to go with them, I’m theirs to keep. There’s no way I can tell them I only intend for this to be a one-night thing.

I’d assumedhomemeant the penthouse, but we’ve been driving in the complete opposite direction for so long, I’m nervous I might have made a terrible mistake.

In the backseat, Josh never misses an opportunity to touch me. He places his hand on my thigh or drapes an arm over the back of my chair and draws small circles on my shoulder with the tip of his finger. The contact makes me shiver, which in turn makes him grin like a madman. When he leans over and starts nibbling on my earlobe, I lose my damn mind, moaning like someone who clearly hasn’t had any kind of physical interaction before.

A breathy gasp escapes my throat. His chest vibrates as he chuckles. I lean my head to the side, baring my neck to him. His lips are soft and sweet as he kisses the exposed skin, sending a thrill straight to my throbbing clit.

“Can the two of you keep your hands off each other for one minute?” Michael says, looking at us in the rearview mirror.

Josh reluctantly pulls away, and the look he gives me promises so much more is to come later.

The sun has long since set by the time we pull into the parking lot of a rundown diner. A flickering neon sign out front reads, “Jim’s Place.”

“I thought you said you were taking me to your home?”

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