“We’re looking forward to the announcement tomorrow,” Roger Hanson smiled at Deacon.
He had almost forgotten he was surrounded by HiTech Global shareholders. He was lost in his own world where only Abby existed.
“Yes,” he answered. “It’s going to be exciting. Cole and I have worked on this for years.”
The truth was they had no idea how everyone would react to the charity work they planned to pursue. But they both knew it was time they gave back. They had more money than they knew what to do with.
Bringing Abby into the project felt right. It was as if she completed the picture. He had joked about looking for an empress to run their empire, but it didn’t seem funny anymore. She was the one. He knew it.
18
Abby
She held her breath. Everything was in place. Her legs were waxed. Her nails were painted. Her long blond locks were layered in waterfall curls. Her makeup had never looked like this. She’d never felt like this.
She stood in front of the foyer mirror, waiting for the elevator to open. Waiting for her men to return to the suite.
The floor numbers lit up, and her heart beat wildly. They were on their way. In thirty seconds they would know. They would know she had done all of this for them. She was giving herself to them. Every part of her. Everything they wanted.
It had taken two weeks to reach this moment, but she knew without a doubt she wanted this. She wanted Deacon and Cole.
Abby took a final glance at the gold strappy heels with the sharp points wrapped around her ankles. They were sexy as hell. If they didn’t scream “sex vixen” nothing did. The door opened and her gaze drifted upward.
Her eyes landed on Cole then darted to Deacon.
“Fuck,” Deacon growled.
She bit her lip, trying not to ruin the gloss the makeup artist had so carefully applied.
“Double fuck,” Cole echoed.
They walked toward her.
They were imposing. Walls of athletic lean muscle headed her way.
“This is the dress you told Douglas to pack, isn’t it?” she asked innocently.
Cole’s gaze dropped to her breasts. Dress tape held the fabric to her skin. She couldn’t wear a bra with the low cut. Deacon’s eyes raked up her thigh. The dress hugged under her ass where another piece of tape was strategically applied by the stylist the spa sent to her.
Deacon inhaled. “You look fucking edible, Abby.”
“Tell us this means what I think it means,” Cole pleaded.
She reached forward, grazing the side of his chiseled jaw. Her other hand reached toward the broad plane of Deacon’s chest. She wanted to know their bodies, the way they had explored hers. This was the beginning of something incredible.
“Yes,” she answered. She felt the power surge through her. The control. Her inner goddess surging to the surface, knowing these men wanted her beyond measure.
Deacon looked at Cole. “Do we have to go to the damn cocktail reception?”
“Yeah. We can’t back out. We’re only here three days.”
“I think we could be fashionably late,” Deacon argued.
Abby interrupted them. “I want to know how this works. How is this even possible?”
Cole blinked, his long eyelashes making his eyes sparkle. “Baby, do you need me to draw you a diagram of how the three of us are going to fuck?”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t think so.” Her inner strength was starting to fade. “I meant, is this just sex? How do the three of us handle it? It feels like more to me. But you both know I’m inexperienced.”