Page 4 of Room One Twenty Eight
His dark brow quirks as he smiles at me, flashing a perfect smile. Oh. It sparkles because the canine is lined with gold and capped with a diamond. The thought of how it might feel on my tongue if we kissed runs through my head. Why am I thinking of kissing him? I am still mending a broken heart.
“You, babydoll. Her is you. Come here, let’s get you off your knees.”
“Not that you don’t look perfect on your knees, sweetness,”the darker guy hums as he bends to take my elbow.
They both touch me at the same time. It feels the same as when I wear my fuzzy socks and go to turn on the light. A bolt of electricity hits me. Not bad enough to hurt. Just enough to wake me up. To make me aware of them.
“That sounded dirty,” I answer with a shrug. I blink at the middleman again, tilting my head once more. Why does he seemso familiar?
“Par for the course with me, sweetheart.”
It is then I realize I am circled by the three men up on this empty balcony overlooking the party below. Music is thumping so loud it makes my heart quake. They could do whatever they wanted to me. No one would ever hear my cries. Would I scream? Or would I....would I let them do what they wanted?
“No one will hurt you, babydoll. I promise. Tell me your name.”
“Uh...I uh....” for a moment, I cannot recall my own name. “Luna. Luna Ritchie. I am not...no one sent me here to...I mean they did. For, not for that. I am a waitress. Well, no, I am not.TonightI am. Yesterday, I was an intern at a record label. I spilled hot coffee on the boss. Now I waitress.”
All three men exchange a look. I frown, wondering if they plan to tell me whatever they just decided amongst themselves. The way they move with one another, the way their eyes speak without their mouths ever moving, it is obvious they’re close. They move closer still, moving as one unit.
“No worries about that mess out there,” the lighter one tells me.
“I make a mess anywhere I go. Kind of what I do. These heels,” I laugh at myself, kicking one heel up to show them how ridiculous they are. It is a bad idea. I stumble because of course I do, falling against the one in the middle again. He catches me,his big, warm hands sliding over my hips.
“A beautiful mess,” he purrs, his fingers digging into me, tugging me close to him.
I gasp because it is so forward, so unexpected I am stunned. I grasp his shoulders as I wobble on the heels. Another gasp sounds when a warm palm presses to the back of my thigh, forcing my leg to pop up. My eyes flutter as a big, rough hand takes off my left heel. Then they move to the other thigh and remove that heel.
“Let those pretty feet rest, sugar,” the golden one to my left husks.
For a moment, I smell their cologne, feel the warmth of them, hear how their breath accelerates. Blinking at the sudden intensity of the moment, I push at the massive chest of the man in front of me. I stumble back a few feet before they rush forward to catch me.
“Careful, babydoll. Can’t have you damaging the goods now.”
Again, I push his shoulders, even as my body goes soft against his. Tilting my head back, I glare up at him. Do they talk to all women this way? Babydoll, sugar, all this cute stuff? The idea makes me sick to my stomach.
“Oh, I get it. Big, hot, alpha male save stupidlittle damsel,” I taunt them with words dripping with sarcasm. “Enough. I am not here as a party favor to some backroom bad boys. I brough the champagne and caviar. I am wearing half of it because I am a mess which is...what did you say, big guy? Par for the course? That is meall day, big boy. Pardon me, I am going to go get fired—again—because I am a shit waitress.”
“Luna, let me apologize. I am Enzo. My partners, Mateo, Tomas. I am sorry. We were being too forward. Weddings tend to make us... crave things. You understand, don’t you?”
Blinking up at him, I nod. I mean, I might not understandat all, but I cannot say no to him. Something keeps drawing me forward, even after I pushed them off me in a huff. They circle closer too, giving me a little space yet sticking close to me.
“You came to a wedding looking for a bride?” I tease with a smirk. Enzo flashes his own grin and my heart titter-tats in my chest. Whoa.
“We came looking for something, Luna,” he hums as his fingers brush some fallen bangs out of my eyes. I flutter out a breath. I am lightheaded. Dizzied. Heart racing. Breath sawing out of my lungs. I am not well.
“I... I need to go get fired. Keep the shoes. Never fit me anyway.”
“Luna, before you go get fired,” Mateo is talking, his accent thicker than the others, his voice warm as fresh caramel. Turning back, I cock a head at him, waiting. He smirks, taking a few steps forward. “Find us here once you decide you’d let us save ourselves a damsel.”
Mateo holds a card out. I consider refusing whatever it is he is offering. Thinking better of it—because what else do I have to lose—I take it. It is crisp black with silver writing on it. An address on one side and a few words on the other.
Club Sin. Room One-Twenty-Eight.
Chapter Three
Tomas
I am not a patient man—or a selfless one.
