She looked out the window. It was the first time she had flown on a private jet. Abby tried to push aside the flutter in her belly every time Cole or Deacon glanced at her. Last night could be explained by too much wine. Or testing her sexual limits. Daring herself to do something she never thought she was capable of, but it had to end there.
She hated them. Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. Only, she was free now. There were no excuses to make. She had chosen this Vegas trip on her own.
“Champagne, ma’am?” The flight attendant lowered a chilled glass in Abby’s direction.
“Thank you.” The bubbles floated to the top of the flute.
“Comfortable, sweetheart?” Deacon looked up from his laptop briefly. Ever since they had taken off from Chicago he and Cole had worked non-stop.
Abby was irritated by her fascination with them. She listened to how they answered phone calls. How they made quick negotiations and decisions. How they consulted each other before moving on to another deal. It was hard not to be mesmerized by them. They were smart. Decisive. Gorgeous. And after last night she discovered they had skills that were equally as impressive.
She took a sip of the French champagne. It was expensive just like everything else they offered her. Her gaze drifted to the clouds again. From up here, life seemed peaceful. As if there was nothing chaotic in her world. As if she could float through clouds with two sexy men and it made perfect sense.
But it didn’t make sense, and it never would. Cole and Deacon had flipped her life upside down. She had barely slept replaying their hands on her body. The moans she made. The way she exploded under their commands.
It had been her decision to let things go as far as they did. She invited them between her legs. She had called them to her lips and breast. She wanted that orgasm like nothing else. She was the one who had all the control last night. They had given her the kind of power she didn’t know she could have. It was exhilarating.
This morning she wondered if it had been a fantasy she concocted. Some kind of strange syndrome that developed because she lived under their roof, but it felt real. It felt incredibly erotic with them under her spell.
She bit her lip, twisting it under her teeth. Would it happen again? Did they want her that way? To share? It made her panties wet thinking about it. She felt the warmth on her nipples as they tingled with the memory.
“Abby?” Deacon jarred her. “Are you comfortable?”
“Umm, yes. Everything is fine. I’m very comfortable.” She clutched the champagne, hoping it would cool her.
“Good,” Cole added. He typed furiously on his keyboard.
She had brought her sketch pad with her for the trip. She had spent the week working on the final touches for the design concept. She liked having something tangible in her hands. There was something about creating it herself without the help of a computer.
In a perfect world, she would be drawing all the time. One day she’d open a studio. Until then, she used her art in the business world. Logos. Letterhead. Websites. She put her skills to use any way she could to make money.
Unlike Cal, she wanted a career that didn’t involve lies or cheating. He had made her cross more lines in the name of money than she could count. As soon as she was done with HiTech Global, she was going to leave Chicago. Cal would never pull her back into that old life again.
***
The cameras came out of nowhere.
“Deacon! Cole! What is the big announcement for the conference?”
“What do you plan to tell the shareholders tomorrow?”
“Who is your friend?”
Abby’s head whipped in one direction and then another as the reporters threw out questions in the lobby of the Rapture Resort. She held up a hand to protect her eyes from the constant flashes.
Deacon stepped in front of her, shielding her from the barrage.
Cole’s hand slipped in hers as he whispered in her ear, “We’ve got you. Just keep walking and we’ll be in the penthouse in just a minute. They’re just curious.”
She plastered a smile on her face and walked, feeling steady with his hand in hers and Deacon keeping her protected from the mob of reporters.
“What surprises do you have?”
“Any big concerts this year?”
The reporters followed them to the gold elevators. Deacon grinned. “You’ll just have to see tomorrow. Thanks for coming out. We have big news for you tomorrow.”
He waved as the doors closed.