frowned. What is the matter
with you?
“This is the correct address, isn’t
it?” Wallace asked.
“What? Yes. Of
course. I’ll see you later.”
Alexa left the car. Ringing the doorbell was unnecessary. One of
Ronnie’s most trusted assistants had watched her approach and now let her
inside. Alexa gave the young woman a small smile that
felt timid and sad.
Dammit, get a grip.
“Your visitors are in the master
suite,” the girl said, her English heavily accented from her native Portuguese.
Alexa moved up the staircase, forcing herself to concentrate on
the home’s stark and arresting décor. Black marble floors complemented the
walls papered in gray silk. Decorative sconces in geometric designs were a
startling white, matching the many doors that lined the hall.
At the end of it was the master
suite. Just past its double doors, Tim and David waited for her.
Two great-looking guys any woman
would have been happy to share an evening with. David was such a doll, so damn
sweet and giving, while Tim was more BS than he realized. Alexa had seen his confidence wane when he’d found her and Hunt in the bath, clinging
to each other like Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet when the Titanic finally sunk. No longer
full of himself, Tim had looked uncertain as to whether Alexa still wanted him too. That one moment of doubt had made him more appealing to
her than all of his previous cockiness.
She wondered if he’d mellow out
tonight, becoming tender, and if David would be more assertive. It might be a
nice change, even though neither of them would ever be Hunt.
Alexa’s step paused at the unwanted thought. Her palms were damp.
She ran them down her strapless black sheath, as snug as the gold dress she’d
worn the first time she’d been with them. Rarely had she been as wound up as
she was right now, her heart pounding, her mouth dry.
You’re going to have a great time,
just like always. They’re going to do whatever you want. They won’t leave
you…at least not until it’s over.
And then it wouldn’t matter.
Although she liked Hunt’s friends, she didn’t really care if she ever saw them
again. There was no connection other than a need to quell her pressing
loneliness. Never would be. She didn’t want that. Having a man touch her soul
wouldn’t turn out well. He’d leave her and become indifferent because that’s
what men did once they got what they wanted.
She’d been through that with her
father, finally being a good girl and great student at Oxford, which got her
ignored once more. No fucking way was a guy going to do that to her again.
During the next hours, she was going
to be bad—decadent, carnal, wicked bad.
Her step was finally sure as she
reached the doors, opening them.
The room, like the rest of the
house, was a study in Spartan hues. Black lacquered nightstands flanked either
side of the king-sized bed that rested on a slab of gray marble, its headboard
in a black-and-white diamond design. White branches stripped of leaves stood in
tall aluminum cylinders, providing an artistic view of what a funky forest
might look like. Artwork in bold geometric designs hung on the walls. Light
poured through the compositions’ triangles and circles, illuminating the space.
The peachy glow she’d seen from the street was deceptive, the light tamed by
the closed shutters.
In here, it allowed no shadows, nowhere to hide, especially for a woman who would soon be
naked and stretched out on the mattress.
David and Tim turned as one, looking
at her. As that first night on R Street, they both wore dark suits as though
they’d come here from a conference with VIP clients. Unlike that evening,
they’d already helped themselves to drinks from the wet bar.
It was on the other side of the
room, blocked from her view by the door. As she closed it, Alexa decided to make herself a drink. If ever there was a time she needed one, it
was—
Her thoughts paused.
She stared at Hunt. He stood at the
wet bar’s
with you?
“This is the correct address, isn’t
it?” Wallace asked.
“What? Yes. Of
course. I’ll see you later.”
Alexa left the car. Ringing the doorbell was unnecessary. One of
Ronnie’s most trusted assistants had watched her approach and now let her
inside. Alexa gave the young woman a small smile that
felt timid and sad.
Dammit, get a grip.
“Your visitors are in the master
suite,” the girl said, her English heavily accented from her native Portuguese.
Alexa moved up the staircase, forcing herself to concentrate on
the home’s stark and arresting décor. Black marble floors complemented the
walls papered in gray silk. Decorative sconces in geometric designs were a
startling white, matching the many doors that lined the hall.
At the end of it was the master
suite. Just past its double doors, Tim and David waited for her.
Two great-looking guys any woman
would have been happy to share an evening with. David was such a doll, so damn
sweet and giving, while Tim was more BS than he realized. Alexa had seen his confidence wane when he’d found her and Hunt in the bath, clinging
to each other like Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet when the Titanic finally sunk. No longer
full of himself, Tim had looked uncertain as to whether Alexa still wanted him too. That one moment of doubt had made him more appealing to
her than all of his previous cockiness.
She wondered if he’d mellow out
tonight, becoming tender, and if David would be more assertive. It might be a
nice change, even though neither of them would ever be Hunt.
Alexa’s step paused at the unwanted thought. Her palms were damp.
She ran them down her strapless black sheath, as snug as the gold dress she’d
worn the first time she’d been with them. Rarely had she been as wound up as
she was right now, her heart pounding, her mouth dry.
You’re going to have a great time,
just like always. They’re going to do whatever you want. They won’t leave
you…at least not until it’s over.
And then it wouldn’t matter.
Although she liked Hunt’s friends, she didn’t really care if she ever saw them
again. There was no connection other than a need to quell her pressing
loneliness. Never would be. She didn’t want that. Having a man touch her soul
wouldn’t turn out well. He’d leave her and become indifferent because that’s
what men did once they got what they wanted.
She’d been through that with her
father, finally being a good girl and great student at Oxford, which got her
ignored once more. No fucking way was a guy going to do that to her again.
During the next hours, she was going
to be bad—decadent, carnal, wicked bad.
Her step was finally sure as she
reached the doors, opening them.
The room, like the rest of the
house, was a study in Spartan hues. Black lacquered nightstands flanked either
side of the king-sized bed that rested on a slab of gray marble, its headboard
in a black-and-white diamond design. White branches stripped of leaves stood in
tall aluminum cylinders, providing an artistic view of what a funky forest
might look like. Artwork in bold geometric designs hung on the walls. Light
poured through the compositions’ triangles and circles, illuminating the space.
The peachy glow she’d seen from the street was deceptive, the light tamed by
the closed shutters.
In here, it allowed no shadows, nowhere to hide, especially for a woman who would soon be
naked and stretched out on the mattress.
David and Tim turned as one, looking
at her. As that first night on R Street, they both wore dark suits as though
they’d come here from a conference with VIP clients. Unlike that evening,
they’d already helped themselves to drinks from the wet bar.
It was on the other side of the
room, blocked from her view by the door. As she closed it, Alexa decided to make herself a drink. If ever there was a time she needed one, it
was—
Her thoughts paused.
She stared at Hunt. He stood at the
wet bar’s
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