by Mari Carr, Red Phoenix, Angel Payne, Sierra Cartwright, Jenna Jacob, Victoria Blue
“Does baby suit you better?” he teased, motioning me into the car.
“No.”
“Hop in,” he directed. “It’ll take just a few minutes to get all the bags off the plane. Honey?”
“No way.”
I slid into the Escalade. Of course this model had a bench seat in the back instead of captain’s chairs. I was sure the men would sandwich me in as soon as they entered. I noticed their habit of capturing me between them whenever they had the opportunity. The realization made butterflies battle in my stomach like kamikaze pilots, especially as I spied on the two of them through the windshield.
So powerful. So commanding. So gorgeous. So perfect.
What the hell was going on here?
I needed to get a grip on myself and this situation before I did something really dumb. First step had to be insisting on my own room at the hotel—but I already knew I couldn’t afford even a broom closet at The Nyte. It made even “upscale” places look like hobo shacks. With Cos Con in town, and on such short notice, I’d be lucky to get a room at a budget special down the street.
I closed my eyes, deliberately not tormenting myself with the sight of those two gods anymore. As I leaned my head back, I tried to settle my thoughts back down. My Jell-O limbs from the plane were definitely gone and forgotten.
Something had to be done, and quickly.
“Love.” Drake slid in on my left.
“Are you kidding me?”
“I like that one best.” Fletcher folded his tall frame in on my right.
“It really rolls off the tongue.” They bantered back and forth over the top of my head.
“Please stop,” I snapped. “Please stop…all of this. I’m serious.” I was freaking out, and needed to let them see that. Their new frowns told me I’d finally gotten through.
Drake cupped the back of my neck with a big, warm hand. “Talia. Settle down. We’re playing around. As for the situation at the hotel, it’s just a box in a building with places to sleep, not a marriage proposal. Let’s just check in, take a look around, and if you’re still worried, we’ll make other arrangements. The last thing either of us would do is put you in a position you aren’t comfortable with. Can you trust us on this?”
His touch worked its magic all over again, soothing my tension away in seconds. Fletcher added to the effect with his easy laugh.
“I’m pretty sure that when you see the place, you’ll be fine with it. You won’t even know we’re there if you don’t want us to be. Angel?” Out came his killer smile again, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Dammit, these two were trouble.
Big, dangerous, sexy trouble.
Chapter Two
The Nyte was just as magnificent as I’d heard.
“Wow,” I whispered, as the driver circled the Escalade into the glittering porte-cochere, then hopped out to get our luggage. He was assisted by a young man with boy-band hair and an equally dazzling grin, attracting the attention of at least six teenagers, a trio of cougars, and a couple of sugar daddies, while performing his duties.
“Welcome to The Nyte, Mr. Newland and Mr. Ford.” he greeted. “How was your flight in from San Diego?”
Drake nodded deferentially, as if they received this kind of reception at hotels all the time. “Enlightening,” he answered the youth. “Thank you, Tripp.”
“Perfect,” the kid answered, eager as a puppy as he handed Fletcher an embossed business card. “I’ve already checked. Your suite is ready. I’ll have the bags taken up right away. Just hit my number on either of your cells if you’ll be needing the car again.”
“Outstanding,” Fletcher answered. As he extended a tip, he asked, “How are things going at UNLV?”
“Right on track,” Tripp answered. “I’ll have that diploma in no time; then I’ll be ready to move up to Mr. Beckett’s management program here.”
Fletcher clapped him on the back. “Good job, man.”
During the exchange, Drake tipped the driver then leaned in to help me out of the car. The desert air hit me, dry and warm but hinting at the chill it would bring after sunset. The exotic flowers blooming in the planters added a touch of sexy spice to the balmy breeze—so not what I needed for thinking clearly at the moment. I had to focus on alternate lodging ideas. Just the thought of it was torture, especially following the men who’d succeeded in pulling the cougars’ attention off of Tripp. I fought the urge to hasten my pace, curl my hands beneath both their elbows, and shoot a possessive glance at the giggling women.
Instead, I chose to take in my surroundings. The hotel was breathtaking. Gold and silver trimmed every surface while crystal accents created tiny rainbows on every reflective plane. I’d read there were sixty floors in the hotel, and secretly hoped our suite was nowhere near the top. Admitting my irrational fear of heights to these two would be mortifying. I already felt so small and insignificant in their presence.
At the front desk, another handsome young man greeted Fletcher by name. I couldn’t help being impressed and proud that I was here with him. He was a force to be reckoned with, that was for sure, but was also greeted with affection and respect, in line with a reputation that he had clearly earned.
“Wesley. So good to see you again.” Fletcher shook the clerk’s hand while motioning Drake and me closer. “You remember my very good friend, Drake Newland?”
“Indeed! Mr. Newland, it’s wonderful to see you again. How are you?”
“I’m well, Wesley. Thank you for asking. May I also introduce our business associate, Talia Perizkova? She’ll be staying with us in the suite this weekend.”
“Very good! Well, we are all at your service, Ms. Perizkova. Please make my staff or me aware if you require anything to make your stay more enjoyable. At the Nyte, we strive to make your every desire a reality.”
I didn’t say a thing. Just stood and smiled like an idiot, wondering if adorable little Wesley really wanted to know my deepest desire at that moment—especially as Drake pressed his hand against the small of my back. His touch seared through the layers of my dress, making it impossible to think clearly. I blushed, instantly and profusely. Wesley didn’t seem to notice—but ohhh boy, did both men at my sides.
“Everything’s set with your account information.” Wesley slid an elegant key packet across the marble counter. “Here are your keys and suite number. I understand Tripp and his team are already handling your bags. Again, welcome to the Nyte.”
We headed from the lobby, through the casino, and toward the elevator bank to find our suite. The elevator was full of other guests, stopping at least three times before we picked up speed and soared higher and higher. My stomach rolled as I watched the numbers quietly dinging. Finally, the doors slid open—
At the fifty-third floor.
Drake held the lift’s door open. As soon as I realized the outside wall was dominated by huge glass panes, I grabbed Fletcher’s hand. So much for keeping my “little secret” any longer—though with Fletcher returning my grip, silently assuring my safety through the strength of his fingers, I was able to get in a centering breath and admire the luxury as we entered.
The hotel’s décor was stunning, even here. My heels sank into plush gold carpeting, and all the sconces on the walls were made of crystal. The windows were also framed in gold, as if the view itself were a work of art. I couldn’t argue. Once the sun went down, the view of the Strip would be amazing.
I let Fletcher lead the way to the end of the hall where one door stood alone, taller than the others we had passed. Drake swiped the key over the reader off to the side. He pushed open the door and stepped aside, letting Fletcher guide me inside the suite. I had to hide a smile as an image flared to mind, as shocking as it was fleeting. I actually pictured Fletcher carrying me over the threshold as Drake looked on, glowing with love and pride.
Whoa, baby.
Sheez. Wherever that had come from, it needed to return right now, to its rightful place—wherever the hell that was. I was
here to do my job, not get lost in the fantasy seeming to unravel from me faster by the minute.
Or maybe it was me who was unraveling?
“You don’t like it?”
Fletcher’s voice, sounding so let down, jerked me back to reality. “Huh?” I snapped my head up. He was staring at me with the same intent as Drake, watching as if I were damn near prey, gauging every nuance of my reaction.
“I asked if you liked it.”
Drake stepped over. “Tolly…you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s up?”
Crap. Where was a quick comeback when a girl needed one? I couldn’t possibly tell them about my—what had that been? A fantasy? A yearning?
A freaking pipe dream?
“No. I love it!”
Drake shifted closer. Even closer. There I was, standing in the gilded foyer of the most incredible hotel suite I’d ever seen, toe-to-toe with an even more splendorous sight—Drake Newland’s carved, perfect, archangel face.
With one finger under my chin, he brought my gaze up to his. “But what?”
I gulped. He already knew I was lying, The set of his eyes, so dark and determined, said as much. “There—there is no but. I was just—I was thinking—”
“Spit it out, girl.” Fletcher backtracked in order to crowd in behind me. No tight private plane spacing this time; just him deliberately pressing close—and sending shivers down to the ends of my toes.
“All right, all right.” Just move away. Just stay. Oh God, what am I doing here? “I’m…afraid of heights.”
Darn it! I hadn’t wanted to spill it, but right now, it was the safer of two truths. Like I could even consider the alternative. So I just had this vision, as we walked over the threshold…You guys are never going to believe this…
And they wouldn’t.
No matter how anything turned out over this weekend, conjugal bliss was far, far from the equation.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Drake was gentle, but firm about it, adding a second finger in order to hold me in place.
“Excuse me?” I was glad for the tiny surge of ire, helping me step from his numbing grasp. I paced deeper into the suite, motioning around the room with a small twirl. “You can see all these windows too, right? This view must include even the Hoover Dam, I’m sure of it.” I dropped my arms while backing away from the big window. “But you can also see all the way down to the street. And yeah, that scares me…a little.”
“Not an issue.” Fletcher demonstrated his point with a shrug. “We’ll just get a room on a lower floor.”
He made it all sound so simple. I just wondered why I wasn’t convinced.
“But we’ll have to warn you, sweet girl, the hotel doesn’t have many suites below this level. If we move to a lower floor, we’ll likely be sharing one room.” Drake watched me with careful eyes.
“And one bed.” Fletcher dropped the bomb. I snapped a stare to where he stood, hands in pockets, smugly grinning. Dammit, he already knew we’d be staying in this suite. I could barely keep my cool with these two in a mausoleum of a room like this, let alone something more…intimate.
“Okay, so this is fine. Yep, just fine. I mean, look around! It’s more than fine; it’s amazing. I’m just going to stay back from the windows, and everything will be fine, fine, fine. See? I’m better already. It’s fine.”
Drake dropped his head. Fletcher wasn’t so subtle about his gloating chuckle. “So, do you always babble when you’re nervous?”
“I’m not nervous.”
His hands came up, palms out. “Whatever you say, sugar.”
“Stop that. And I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous?”
“Right. Got that. Everything’s—what was the word, bro?”
“Fine.” Drake’s single syllable shook with laughter.
“Exactly,” I snapped. “It’s fine. This is just the three of us, making it all fine, in a lovely and gigantic room. I’m going to take the bedroom on the right, if the two of you are good with that?”
“Yep.” Fletcher smirked. “That’s just—”
“A dead horse now.” I pivoted and marched toward the bedroom. “Can you just put my bag by the door when it gets up here? I’m going to go freshen up a bit.”
Not a minute too soon, I reached the bedroom and almost slammed the door behind me. As I leaned against it, my heart thudded in my ears like a hunted animal’s.
That was a close call. Too close. My stupid daydreams. I couldn’t entertain any more like that around these two. Between the pair, they didn’t miss a single detail about what I said or how I acted.
This was going to be the longest weekend of my life.
Or the best weekend of my life.
A soft tap came from the other side of the door. I jumped out of my deep thoughts and wondered how long I had actually been standing there. Minutes? An hour?
“Sweetie, your bag is right outside here. Can I get you something from the bar?”
I answered back, almost too quickly. “You guys are leaving?”
Fletcher’s chuckle was warm and enticing, even through the barrier. Against my better instincts, I opened the door.
He greeted me with a smile. “We have a full bar out here in the sitting room.” Gracefully, he extended a hand. God, he even had gorgeous hands. “Come join us. I promise we’ll keep you far away from the windows.”
As I hesitated, the devil returned to his smirk. The look was rapidly turning into my favorite, and I think he knew it. His eyes began twinkling too, but his mouth curled up more, a continued promise of delightful, sinful things.
Which meant I really needed to turn his offer down.
“Okay.” Dammit. I was so lost. The pitiful thing? I was pretty damn sure he knew that, as well. He reveled in what he was doing to me, though his touch was respectful as he gently reached out and twined my hand against his.
As we walked down the small hallway leading back to the suite’s main space, he looked down to where our hands were entangled. “Is this okay?”
Annnnd, melting of bones officially commenced. Now he was asking permission? It was so Southern and boyish…and so different from the bossy, never-take-no-as-an-answer approach of Drake’s. I couldn’t decide which enticed me more—or if I even wanted to decide. Maybe it explained why they always bedded women together. The combo had something to please any and every woman. They would never miss with this angle. Well, angles.
I couldn’t really coax sound out of my throat, so I just nodded. Fletcher smiled again. “Good. I rather like touching you.” He said it so quietly, I almost couldn’t make out the whole sentence. I envisioned pulling on his collar to make him come back and repeat it.
Oh, God. Me and my runaway fantasies. Again.
In the living room, Drake was behind the bar, looking very much at home. But of course, he was an expert at artisan cocktails too. Both of these men seemed to master everything they took on.
“What can I fix you, beautiful?”
I leaned against the dark wood counter. “Can you make a margarita? On the rocks, please?”
With one deft move, he yanked down a rocks glass from the shelf. “Can I make a margarita, she asks!” He shared a hearty chuckle with Fletch before drawling, “Sweet girl, you are looking at a mix master. And my personal favorite poison?”
I slid a smile out. “Tequila?”
Fletcher waggled his brows. “Such a quick study.”
I held up both hands. “Well, take it easy on me. We still have a lot of work to get through today, then there’s all day tomorrow. The last thing I need is a hangover.”
Fletcher nodded. “Not to worry. We’ll have one drink, then go downstairs and check out the booth setup in the meeting hall. I want to make sure the positioning is exactly what we specified, and confirm all the power got dropped to the right spots, too.”
I expanded my smile. When we talked business like this, the three-way flow was easy, even energetic. If I could only keep steering things in that directi
on…
Like a margarita in my hand was going to help.
Nevertheless, I accepted the drink from Drake and raised my glass to them both. “To the three of us, and success!” After they echoed the words and we all sipped—perhaps I did a little more than sip, because Drake really did concoct an amazing margarita—I went on. “Tomorrow is the start of a much-needed new beginning for me—in more ways than you can imagine.” Considering all the kindness they’d shown me today alone, compared to the year of hell at the hands of my last boyfriend, Gavin, pricked heat to the backs of my eyes—and a slightly buzzed boldness to my lips. “I’m so thankful I was partnered with the two of you.”
God. Had I said too much?
“Here here!”
We all clinked glasses, but I noticed I was the only one taking a second sip. Both men were staring at me with utterly unreadable expressions. Uh-oh; maybe I had said too much.
“Hey. No fair. Why aren’t you drinking?”
Fletcher ran a finger around the rim of his copper mug. “Just taking it all in. Taking you in. I could watch you for hours, Tolly.”
“I’ll beat you to it.” Drake looked wistful with his admission. Wistful? Ohhh, yeah. Wistful.
Oh man, this was weird. And wonderful. But mostly weird. No…mostly wonderful. I had no idea anymore.
“Would you two stop?” I gestured angrily at their drinks in hand. “Seriously! Drink your beers—and whatever that thing is—so we can go downstairs.” I really didn’t have any idea about how else to react to their declarations, so I went for the irked ostrich approach. I jammed my head in the proverbial sand, and kept pretending our dynamic wasn’t changing so drastically.
“It’s a Moscow Mule,” Fletch offered, finally taking a sip of his drink.
“A what?” It had been a-while since I’d gone clubbing or to a bar, so I wasn’t familiar with the drink at all.
“A Moscow Mule. They’re the thing right now, I guess.”
