Page 38 of Bound By Mistake
Twenty-Five
SIERRA
Lordy! Do I even have anything suitable to wear? I’ve heard of La Boucherie, and while I earn decent money, the Michelin starred French restaurant is next level.
Scurrying into my room, I dig through my wardrobe, and my hand lands on the obligatory LBD. I sigh in relief. You can’t go wrong with a little black dress.
Pulling my hair out of its messy bun, I brush it through, grateful I washed it this morning, and leave it loose around my shoulders since my hands are still too shaky to attempt a fancy undo. Then I panic over how to do my makeup.
In the end, I decide they’ve arguably seen me at my worst, so I simply swipe on a little mascara and lip gloss. If there’s one thing I’m determined about, tonight is about me being me, and I’ve never been one for layers of filler and glitz.
In twenty minutes, I’m ready to go, with just the addition of a pair of patent black heels, and an artfully draped black shawl, threaded with gold, which makes my outfit look dressier than it really is.
“I’m ready,” I say, stepping back into the living room where the men have been chatting quietly. They look up in surprise, and I can only imagine they expected me to take a lot longer.
“Good job we kept the time open on our table,” Cain says with a chuckle, confirming my thoughts.
“You look beautiful,” Gray compliments, standing and capturing my hand which he brings to his lips. The gesture, so tame after everything they’ve done to me, makes my insides flutter, and I duck my head as I murmur my thanks. How is it that I feel so out of my element with them? We’ve shared more than most couples do in a lifetime, but I feel unaccountably shy around them. I guess, although we know each other carnally, with them having laid bare their deepest, most deviant desires, I really don’t know the people they are in their everyday life.
And the same for me. They’ve used my body for their every whim and pleasure, but they don’t know me… Tonight, though, offers the opportunity to change that, and I welcome it.
More than that; I’m excited for it. These men are everything I never knew I needed in my life.
Over a decadent dinner, the four of us take those first tentative steps towards building something meaningful. We speak of our jobs and our families. Likes and dislikes. Hobbies and pastimes. Anything and everything.
What surprises me most is how natural it all feels, especially after the awkward beginnings, and by the end of the evening, I truly believe this really is the start of something… significant.
As we leave the restaurant, Erik's hand finds the small of my back, guiding me gently. The simple touch sends tingles up my spine, reminding me of the raw passion we've shared. But there's tenderness there too, a promise of something deeper.
"Sierra," Gray says, his voice low and intimate. "We'd love for you to come back to our building. No expectations, just... to talk more. If you're comfortable with that."
I hesitate for a moment, memories of our intense encounters flashing through my mind. Things are still moving fast; perhaps that’s inevitable considering the way we started. But the evening has shown me a different side of these men - they’re by degrees, thoughtful, funny, and surprisingly open. I find myself nodding.
"I'd like that," I reply softly.
The ride to their penthouse is charged with unspoken tension. They already explained how they live on the top floor of the high-rise building their business is housed in. A property they bought and renovated to suit their own needs after their company was firmly established, and how it has a guest suite for when they have overseas clients visiting. That’s where they plan to take me… somewhere neutral. Well, as neutral as it can be.
Gray's thigh presses against mine in the back of the town car, his proximity both thrilling and nerve-wracking. My response to all three men is staggering. Yes, I’d missed them and dreamed about them, but reality is all too often a let-down.
Not this time.
When we arrive, Erik leads us to a cozy sitting room with plush couches and a view over the glittering city below.
As we settle in with glasses of wine, the conversation flows easily once more. But there's an undercurrent now, a spark of possibility hanging in the air between us. I find myself studying their faces, noticing details I'd missed before - the tiny scar above Gray’s eyebrow, the flecks of gold in Erik’s eyes, the way Cain’s lips quirk when he's amused.
As the night wears on, our positions shift subtly. Gray drapes his arm casually over the back of the couch behind me. Cain's hand rests on my knee, his thumb tracing lazy circles. Erik leans in closer as he speaks, his breath warm on my cheek.
The wine and the company have left me feeling pleasantly buzzed, my inhibitions lowering. When Gray's fingers brush my bare shoulder, I can't suppress a shiver.
"Cold?" he asks, his voice a deep rumble.
I shake my head, meeting his intense gaze. "No," I whisper. "Not cold at all."
The air between us crackles with electricity. I'm hyper-aware of every point of contact - Cain's hand skimming over my skin, Erik's thigh pressed against mine, Gray's fingers ghosting along my arm.
"Sierra," Gray murmurs, "May I kiss you?"
After everything that’s occurred, the fact that he’s asking means more than he’ll ever know. And for the same reasons, I consent, desperate to know if his lips will feel as electrifying as I remember, or if my mind has expanded things out of all proportion.
