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The revelation had momentarily stunned them to the point where they had neglected to notice the stark evidence right in front of them.
They were never easily taken by surprise.
But Dakota Turner had messed with their heads.
Not that the signs were obvious to anyone else. But they should have known. They’d developed a deep knack for piecing things together and seeing an outcome that most people would have been blind to.
But not them.
They had taken over the world because of that one trait, honed when you had to fight to stay alive from a very young age.
But they missed what Dakota had shown them.
Until now.
Their suspicions were aroused the moment she whispered that plea, with her clit pressing into the muscle on his thigh, her sweet wetness soaking through the fabric, and her ass, those enticing, spectacular, and familiar slopes now bare for their view.
But when she scrambled off his lap, red-faced and trembling, it felt as if they were seeing her for the first time.
Every curve of her body, the true beauty of her face, her scent, so innocent yet so alluring, her eyes.
They should have known when they had kissed those perfect, succulent raspberry lips of hers, but they had been fighting another war, one that prevented them from stripping off the flimsy T-shirt she had worn and taking her every way they could.
They had been too busy trying not to take possession of her hot, tight body for the sake of the kids that they missed the blatant hints she had offered them.
But now they remembered the curve of her back from the dress she had been wearing that night at the casino. How could they have forgotten when they imagined her on her knees, presenting her ass to them?
The instant they discovered she wasn’t really a nanny, she changed the game, and they decided whatever her reason, they weren’t letting her go.
But now that they knew exactly who she was, they surprised themselves by finding that the same thing applied.
Still, that didn’t take away from the fact that they wanted to know what her game was.
Who had sent her to their home? What was she looking for? Had she been threatened into the position, or was she an accomplice?
What did she want?
Did it matter? Did it matter that the same girl who worked for Albert Moses Jones at his casino was the same girl who had pretended to be a nanny so she could gain access to their house?
They were never letting her out of their sight. That didn’t change.
Whatever her reason, whatever her trouble, she belonged to them now.
And if Albert Moses Jones had sent her, they’d deal with him accordingly. The man was new to the scene here in New York, maybe he’d underestimated Michael, Preston, and Zachary. Very few people did.
They had heard he ran some shady poker matches. They had been in the mood to be tested. But Jones had been on his best behavior and lost to them like a gentleman.
But again, whatever the case, she was theirs now.
There was no going back. She was going to be the only woman in their bed for as long as they lived. No other man would live to tell the tale if he so much as touched her. No other man would dare.
"Dakota," Michael called. She had almost reached the door. He spoke with unquestioning authority. If she knew what was good for her, she’d turn around.
She did.
Fucking hell.
They kept underestimating her hold on them.
