Page 44 of Beautiful Sinners

Warmth singes my cheeks with a hard blush, and I concentrate on eating and not on the throb between my legs his promise elicits.

“Did Dierdre know you were in New York?” Tristan suddenly asks.

I finish off the food and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “No. I told her I was staying at Raquelle’s dorm for a girl’s weekend. Why?”

“Just trying to figure out how Cillian knew what Aleksander had planned.”

Huh.How did Cillian know that Aleksander and Aleksei would be there? He clearly had advance warning. Alana disappeared the day before and wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. So, why not warn the guys if he knew? Why let us walk right into a trap that could have ended way differently than it did?

Hendrix collects our empty plates and puts them in the sink. “There’s a lot of stuff we need to fucking figure out.”

Thinking out loud, I relay, “Aleksei said that Aleksander didn’t want me harmed.”

Why spare me? I’m nobody to him. Just another random girl he presumes the guys are fucking.

I’m met with crickets. That’s how deadly quiet the guys get.

“That doesn’t make any sense. He didn’t know until—fuck,” Tristan says to Hendrix as he weaves his hands into his hair, giving the short strands a tug.

I look over at Constantine to see if he knows what Tristan is talking about. He’s been quietly listening, but I can see the wheels working in that big, gorgeous brain of his as he maneuvers the different pieces to the crazy puzzle of the last forty-eight hours into place. However, all of it will have to wait.

I hop down from the stool. “Bedtime.”

We aren’t good for anything until we get some sleep. I’m barely able to string two words together as it is.

Jax said the bedrooms were down the hall, so that’s where I go. They must’ve done some major renovations to convert the large square footage into a livable space. It’s four times the size of Aleksander’s apartment in the bell tower.

I head inside the first room I come to with an open door. Typical bedroom. I don’t snoop around because the large California king is too enticing, and I happily fall face-forward onto the covers. Every muscle in my body weeps with joy when I sink into the softest pillowtop mattress imaginable.

“Who’s sleeping where?” Tristan asks from the doorway.

I roll over. “I want you in here with me. All of you,” I clarify when Hendrix’s mouth turns grim. “And leave the lights on.”

“Any particular reason why?” Tristan asks.

I curl my finger in a come-hither, and when they get close enough, I stand and approach Hendrix first. I’m too sore and too tired for sex, but I’ve been dying to get a better look at their bodies. At the changes that are evident, the muscles and tattoos.

I take the three of them in, each so handsome in different ways, and I have to lick my lips because my throat goes dry at the magnificent sight.

“Do you think there are any cameras watching?”

I saw several on our way up from the parking garage.

“It’s almost a guarantee.”

Hendrix breathes deeply when I press my lips to the place above his heart.

“I know this is going to sound weird, but can I take your shirts off?”

“Baby, you can do whatever you damn well please if it means I get to feel your hands on me,” Tristan replies.

“Do we get to reciprocate?” Hendrix asks, cupping my breast in his hand and letting his thumb play with my nipple until it hardens under his touch.

Liquid heat pulses to life and settles low in my belly.

I think about the cameras and who may be watching, then decide I don’t care.

“Yes, but only if you’re good.” I smile up into his blue eyes.

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