Page 78 of The Billionaire's Bride
Why the hell had I thought this was a good idea?
At least I had had the presence of mind to move away from the dancefloor and the crowd of people. With some luck, no one should have seen the three of us engaged in that little dance-fuck-fest.
Why did I care what they thought of me anyway?
Most of the people there were my parent’s friends…and I had always been the rebel. The girl who’d dropped out of medical school to become a belly dancer. I mean, who does that, right? So, I shouldn’t worry about the fact that I was dancing with two men. Still, I am fairly certain that no one saw us.
Besides, most people had been drinking since the afternoon. Everybody had been happy and ready to dance, and no doubt, the champagne had helped lower my inhibitions too. And the dance… It had been the music which had seduced me. It had gone to my head and I had gotten carried away. I had allowed myself to be seduced by the heat of their bodies, the feel of their hands on my hips, their lips on mine.
Edward stops not far from me. He looks me up and down as he unknots his tie and allows the length to hang down from either side of his collar. Heat zings in my belly. My throat goes dry. Footstep's approach. I glance past him as Baron stalks over to stand next to him. His blue gaze holds mine. He reaches for his rolled-up sleeve and smooths it down his arm. I gulp.
Baron’s lips twitch. "You want a drink, Eve?" he rumbles.
"Yes," I breathe, "yes, please."
His smile widens. He knows I am nervous, and he’s enjoying it. Jerk. At the same time, he’s offering me a drink to help distract me. Typical Baron. Confusing, a little mean, and a whole lot gentle. He stalks over to the bar, grabs a bottle of whiskey and swigs from it. He ambles over, hands it to Edward, who drinks from it without taking his eyes off of me.
He offers me the bottle and I glance from him to Baron, then back at Ed. I twist my fingers together in front of me.
"What’s the matter, Ava?" Edward murmurs. "You scared of us?"
I shake my head.
"You changed your mind, Eve?" Baron quirks an eyebrow. "If you have—"
"No," I rush out, "it’s not that."
"Then?" Baron takes the bottle from Edward, tilts it to his lips. The strong chords of his throat move as he swallows and a pulse flares to life between my legs.
"What is it?" Edward studies me. "What’s wrong?"
"N…nothing."
Baron tilts his head, "It’s something." His lips kick up, "Go on, you can tell us anything; you know that."
"It’s just," I shake the hair away from my face, "it was different on the dance floor, you know? It was more organic, more natural, and here… It just feels forced."
"Hmm." Baron’s eyebrows draw down. "You know we won’t force you into doing anything, Eve."
"I know."
"Nothing you don’t want us to do to you, that is." He smirks and goosebumps pop on my skin. OMG, that’s what I am afraid of, and I don’t know how to categorize the feelings that bubble up from somewhere deep inside.
It seems natural to be with both of them…and yet… It’s unusual. This is not what normal people do. This is not how one is supposed to choose between two men… I mean, I feel something for both of them. I’ve tried scheduling time with each of them. I’ve tried not sleeping with them, only to sleep with each of them separately… And now, here I am, faced with both of them… Actually, on the verge of doing it with both of them at the same time. It should feel odd…but it doesn’t. Which should count for something, right? If only I could, somehow, get past the strange reluctance that grips me.
I lower my hands to my sides, walk up to Baron. I take the bottle from him, tilt it to my lips and take a healthy swig. The liquor burns its way down, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. I take another sip and warmth flushes my skin. A pleasant numbness radiates out from my stomach. I raise the bottle and Edward takes it from me.
"Enough," he scolds, "don’t want you getting drunk."
"As if." I toss my head, pivot and head for the stairs. I stop with my leg poised on the lowest step. Turn to find them walking toward me. Oh, hell, this is it. I turn, take the steps up to my room. Yeah, if I am going to do this, then it is going to be on my turf. Not that I am going to be able to control much of what is to come, but hell, if I am going to give in to everything. At least, I am going to initiate the proceedings. Take the lead in something. Famous last words. I stop at the foot of the bed, glance toward where the men stand just inside the doorway of the room. I reach for the sleeve of my dress and shrug it down, then the other side. It slides down, pools around my ankles, I kick it off along with my heels.
Baron’s chest rises and falls.
Edward’s nostrils flare.
I reach behind me, unhook my bra and drop it to the ground. Then, without taking my gaze off of them, I slide my panties down to the floor and kick them aside.
Baron’s jaw tics. He walks toward me, grabs his shirt at the back with one hand and—in that way that men do—yanks it off and flings it aside. He pauses in front of me, and I gesture to his pants.
