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We need to get Clover somewhere private so we can seal the larger deal and make her ours for more than one mind-blowing, life-altering night.
It’s going to be the most important negotiation of my life.
CHAPTER 6
Clover
Briggs’s tree-trunk arms are latched around my knees and my shoulders, yet he’s cradling me more than crushing me. It would be so easy to curl up here and forget the real world and all my problems. But I can’t.
I squirm in his hold. “Put me down. I have to go.”
“Absolutely not.” Wesley shakes his head at his friend and leads the way in our mini-parade, Grant following behind Briggs and me.
“This wasn’t part of the deal!” I brace my palms on Briggs’s chest and shove, but I might as well have slapped my hand against a slab of granite.
Wesley opens a room that has their names engraved on a golden plaque beside the door.
A personalized space at the club? They must be frequent visitors.
I’m not sure why that thought sours my stomach. Maybe some foolish girly hope of being special, particularly to the person—or people—you shared your first time with. Doubly so because it exceeded my every expectation. Even before I consider my now bloated bank account.
They probably make every woman they spoil together feel like this—wrecked in all the best ways.
Wesley ushers us inside and locks the door behind us.
I’m trapped.
Worse, I’m tempted to give in without a fight. But I’d never be that selfish.
River needs me.
Briggs sits on a plush leather couch, its coffee tone masculine and warm at the same time. He sets me on his lap, and we’re immediately joined by Grant and Wesley.
“Are you alright, Clover?” Grant wonders as he runs his fingers through my hair, which is likely as tangled up as I feel right now.
“No.” In so many ways. I’m confused, boneless, scared, sore…desperate.
Though it seems pointless, I tug the lapels of Briggs’s coat until they overlap on top of my chest and all the way to my knees. I’m swimming in the luxurious fabric, pretending it’s armor instead of half a fancy suit.
“I agree Gunner shouldn’t make more off tonight than you did. What’d he pay you?” Of course Wesley assumes I’m upset about the money. What else would he assume about a woman who sold herself?
“Three million.” A flush blossoms on my chest and seeps up my neck to my cheeks. What must they think of me?
“We’ll match the ten we gave him for finding you and bringing you to us.” Grant doesn’t hesitate.
“I can’t be bought.” I squirm and thrash, but I’m no more successful in breaking loose from Briggs’s hold now than I was earlier. He keeps me tucked against him.
“Tonight would say otherwise.” Wesley’s green eyes are locked on mine, daring me to deny it.
I groan because they’re right. “Fine, but except for this one time, I swear I’m not a whore.”
“Of course not. You were a virgin. And now you’re our prize.” Grant cups my cheek in his hand and rubs his thumb over it in soothing circles.
“Only for tonight. That’s over. Time for me to head back to the streets. I have more than enough for what I need?—”
“And what is that exactly?” Grant is the voice of reason.
Briggs and Wesley let him do the talking. It’s clear that’s what he’s best at.
