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They weren’t supposed to touch her. She wasn’t supposed to know what it felt like, and she certainly wasn’t supposed to want more of it.
What should have happened was that they ignored her during the party, then arrived a few hours later after the party at her apartment toget some.She was meant to tell them thething,and they, being the hot-blooded males they were, were supposed to thank her for her time and leave on the next flight out for London.
End of association.
But they had touched her. Simon had taken her panties, and she knew without a doubt that he had shared them with Henry and Asher because there were times when she caught them looking at her with one hand in their pockets. She had made multiple trips to the bathroom to wipe away her copious wetness, only to find herself soaked again.
But as the hour ticked by, she started to wonder if perhaps they weren’t going to come. And she had no idea how she felt.
Relieved?
Happy?
Disappointed?
Sad?
She decided on all of the above.
She stripped off her dress, stepped into the shower, and after scrubbing at her skin until it gleamed, she put on a cool nightshirt and went to bed.
They’d clearly had a change of heart. Which was fine. It suited her better.
Blakely had closed her eyes for no more than a few minutes before she was startled awake.
At first, she thought she was dreaming because surely things like this would only happen in a dream, but seated around her bedroom while she slept were none other than three English lords.
She sprang up from the bed and had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t.
“How did you get in?” she asked, still rattled, as she reached for her cotton robe and wrapped herself in it. “In America, we call this breaking and entering.”
“In the UK, we call this going after the woman we want.”
“In universal psychiatric terms, this will be called psychotic behavior,” she countered.
“Then call us psychos if it makes you feel better, Princess,” Asher said, giving that sexy slow smile as he stretched out his legs on her favorite chair in her bedroom. He dripped sex, and she didn’t even have to be experienced enough to know what that meant.
She folded her arms over her chest and let her gaze slide over all three of them again.
Her bedroom was never going to be the same. Ever. They had branded everything she owned with their touch, and now they owned everything too.
“Okay, so I guess you’re here in respect of the proposition you made to me in London?”
“We are.”
“In that case, you should know...” she said, then walked out of the room. She expected them to follow her. They didn’t, which meant she had to go back.
“Will you follow me, please?” she asked nicely.
Leaping ahead to maintain a wide distance between her body and theirs, she stood in the lounge near the door.
“As I was saying in regards to your proposition, I think you’ll have a change of heart once I tell you...” She walked to the door and opened it for them, then stood aside to watch them leave. “That I’m still a virgin.”
She was met with silence, so she stared them down again. From their damp hair, it was clear they were freshly showered and had swapped their tuxedos for jeans and T-shirts. Maybe they misheard her.
“I’m still a virgin, and I know you’re probably looking for a good time, and no one wants to sleep with a virgin because it’s awkward, painful, and not very enjoyable, so here’s the door. I’m sorry I wasted your time, but my job was to get you to New York, and I don’t think you understand my level of commitment to getting whatever Andrew, my boss, wants done.”
“Who told you that?” Simon asked, clenching his jaw while Henry closed the door.
