Page 95 of Tempt Her

I’ve already showered and changed. I splurged. I bought us three matching black Dior suits and starched white shirts. The only difference is our ties. Mine has thin stripes of silver and white. Mateo’s has a grey herringbone pattern, while Luke’s is solid silver.

My men are in separate guest rooms upstairs, getting dressed while Stacey is getting ready in the owner’s suite.

The “fuck you” I felt leaving her the gift of sexy lingerie and a beautiful gold silk dress on the bed where she used to have to suffer so much?

Yeah, I relish sticking it to Gentry Evans. He’s a wicked waste of human flesh.

But what I crave the most is watching Stacey soar like a phoenix tonight. From the ashes of a crying woman who opened the door to us, she’ll rise to one letting us give her so much pleasure—she’ll forever be free.

With my legs spread wide and my arm draped over the back of the leather sofa, I wait.

Mateo comes down first.

Shit, he belongs on a runway. He’s got that look, stunning at every angle, and stripped of that suit with that ink and body? I can never resist him.

“Whiskey?” Mateo asks.

“Pour us all one, please.” I feel like a gentleman tonight as Luke bounds down the steps next.

That hot motherfucker never stops smiling. Not even the Army will train that out of him. I sure couldn’t. Not that I wanted to. And the way he looks in a suit? You’d work overtime in hell for him.

Me? I’m not half bad in mine, either. Anything that screams power, I wear it well. Probably because I like it so damn much.

Patiently we wait for Stacey. Heavy with lust and anticipation, we don’t say much.

Night has fallen, and all the other lights in the house are off. Luke’s playing some sexy tunes on the speaker he brought. The lamps in the parlor glow with a golden light. I turned them all on so the phones I set up on tripods can record it all.

It was Stacey’s request, and it surges my cock every time, knowing we’ll be able to watch it later. We’d never betray her and leak the videos, but if she decides to torture that ass-hat with how we’re going to fuck her?

Hell, yes, I’ll give him one helluva show.

He never deserved her.

Hell, no woman should ever have to suffer a man like him.

Finally, her heels click down the curved wooden stairwell.

Even though I bought that dress and know what’s underneath it, Stacey stalls my breath.

Her hair tumbles down, falling in golden strands that curl at the bottom. She doesn’t wear much makeup. With a face like that, it’s a waste. And that body? I love the curves she’s getting. How she’s happy and eating more now. How muscle crests into her curves, and her skin is kissed with just enough sun to make her freckles sparkle like stars.

Goddamn, she’s not a beauty queen.

She’sOur Queen.

The air is silent as she stalks our way. So struck by her beauty, I don’t know what the fuck to say until she zings us with, “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit; y’all look hot as hell.”

Our laughter cracks the tension as she takes the whiskey from Mateo and his kiss on the cheek before she sits across from us on the other leather sofa.

We men sat together so we could enjoy this opposing view. How Stacey crosses her legs and sits up straight like a lady. How she can be so graceful in one moment and so wild the next with her black leather garter peeking out from under her elegant dress.

Yeah, I’m falling.

“How do y’all start?” Before sipping her whiskey, she asks, “Is there some candle to light or chant or something?”

Deeply, Mateo chuckles. “Ford does a dick dance to start the show.”

Luke jokes. “Yeah. He puts us all in a trance until we’re dickmatized.”

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