Page 82 of Her Filthy Reverse Harem Romance Collection

Encrypting multiple layers of security isn’t a walk in the park. It is more like a mad dash across an open field while unseen enemies take pot shots with sniper rifles from the tree line. In other words, this code has a wide-open target sitting in the middle of it and I need to eliminate it or lose years of development. My brother might have been the brains behind its original form, but I’ve taken it to a whole other level in the months since his passing.

I toss my glasses on the counter and rub at dry eyes. I have to get this right. I know I can. I just need to—my phone pings cutting my thoughts off. There’s a familiar sexy dark-eyed man’s picture popping up on my screen.

I shake my head and tell myself no, but I still smile.

Tomas. Sexy, mouth-watering bad boy Tomas. Nine years my senior and totally not for me. Nor are his two friends.

Tomas’ million-dollar smile and swirling ink covering his arms are distracting enough, but it’s his wicked ability to make me come with his tongue on my clit in less than thirty seconds that has me reaching for my phone.

And then there is Maksym and Stefan. Totally breathtaking at kissing but mind-blowing at fucking me into the next universe. That’s just the pure truth of it.

Their raspy accents ghost over my senses as if I can hear them even now as I stand alone in my kitchen.

The memory of their lips and hands on my skin has my eyes falling to the box on the end of the kitchen counter. It’s been there since the day they called and said they had to leave on business.

Whatever that means. They aren’t into talking about themselves. And I haven’t asked much to begin with.

I trace the tip of my finger over the black edge of the box with an unfamiliar label across the side. I did a quick google search and the number of dildo variations this particular shop sells is mind-blowing. Piper didn’t stop teasing me for a week. And there isn’t a day that goes by that she isn’t begging me to open it already.

Truth be told, I haven’t had the balls to open it. Once I do, I don’t trust myself not to beg them to come home.

Home. Like they belong to me and I to them.

Piper would love that. She loves a good romance story. But I don’t need a man—or three—stealing my attention from where it needs to be. What I need is to get my head screwed on and stop daydreaming of fantasies.

It was by chance I met them and now I can’t forget them no matter how hard I try. After weeks of convincing, I finally agreed to a girls’ night out with my best friend. I can still recall the teasing tone in my friend’s voice that night.

“When in doubt, add more dick,” Piper had said the night when all three invited me for drinks at their table.

In the exclusive section.

All by ourselves.

Did I mention it was VIP only?

Fifteen minutes after arriving at the Sapphire Club three of the hottest men I’ve ever laid eyes on personally descended from their ruling perch in the tower—an exclusive area reserved for the elite—and approached our table with an invitation for me to join them. I grew up in money, but unlike the socialites I’m surrounded by, I don’t let it go to my head. Plus, it’s my parents’ money. Not mine.

But they didn’t seem to care about my social status beyond me not wearing a wedding ring. They just wanted me. Solo. The geeky computer coder with glasses and lackluster brown hair. The most attention I ever got from anyone of the opposite sex was when they needed help in trigonometry in high school or me to pass my semester notes while in college.

But these three were years of built-up karma coming my way in three-piece suits and smelling of danger and desire.

That feels made up thinking about them that way, but I don’t know how else to say they were the very epitome of what bad boys were.

And I liked it. A little too much. But not at first.

Piper practically pushed me out of my chair and into their arms, because of how fast I locked up. I must have looked like a doe in headlights to them.

I don’t know what came over me to accept. But after I stopped stuttering, I managed to actually hold a conversation with them. And they were beyond smart. Witty. And dreamy.

And things turned heated pretty quickly.

That first night was a fantasy come true. And now they seem to want a rendezvous every couple of weeks. Which has been fun, but three months makes it time to sayadios. I mean, how much longer can our secret encounters keep happening before they grow tired and want to move on?

It will hurt when that day comes so for me to take the first move makes sense. And preferable before someone who knows my father or myself finds out.

I shudder at the idea. They are my one secret. And I guess my weaknesses because I’ve yet to be able to tell any of them no.

That thought has my hand freezing just as I go to swipe my thumb to answer another text as it dings.

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