Bet on Ecstasy (Pact of Seduction 3)

When she finally arrived at the door with the sign ROSE on the right side, she drew in a deep breath. While she wanted to run straight into Brock and Smith’s arms, she also knew she couldn’t. Yes, they’d fixed one of the problems about their being together, but there was still the issue about how this would all work.

Sure, she’d agree to just about anything with them right now. Though Kyra also knew she needed to keep her head on straight. These two men had seduced every single part of her and had claimed her heart, but Kyra wasn’t only led by emotions. With her heart at risk, she needed them to prove they could, in fact, function as a threesome.

She blew out her breath slowly, then opened the door.

The small square room consisted only of a huge black leather chaise near a crackling fire in the fireplace. There were no other lights in the room, and the fire gave off a soft, romantic glow.

Though what captured her focus were the two men standing by the fireplace. Both Brock and Smith, dressed in blue jeans, had their shirts off, and the flickering flames created an orange hue highlighting their muscular bodies.

They turned to her at the exact same moment, and that was so like them. They seemed to know where each other’s bodies were and what each other’s next move was.

She scanned over their chests, abdomens and biceps before she forced her attention to their faces. Her mouth might’ve been dry, but the junction between her legs was very wet. A quick heat stormed into her as two kissable mouths curved into sexy smiles. She leaned against the doorway. “Hi.”

SMITH STARED AT perfection.

“Hello Kyra,” he murmured.

Tonight, she was dressed in a tight black skirt, red fuck-me heels, and a red sleeveless blouse. He’d never seen anything quite so delicious. The past two weeks had been utter hell without seeing her smile, hearing her voice, or touching her silky flesh. In fact, the distance between them tore Smith up enough that he couldn’t stop from striding forward to take her hand.

When her delicate fingers twined with his, it eased the ache that had filled his chest after she walked away from them. Without a doubt he loved this woman, and he wouldn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.

He gently pulled her into the room, locked the door behind her, then tugged her toward the chaise. “Please sit. We need to talk.”

She settled against the leather chaise, crossing her legs, and Smith’s gaze went straight to her gorgeous thigh before he forced his eyes on her face when she said, “Interesting place to have a talk.”

“We met because of Castle Dolce Vita,” he stated, heat filling his groin and hardening his cock. “It’s…right…to come here.”

Brock gave a firm nod. “It’d be a waste not to at least enjoy the castle once before we said our good-byes to this place.” He leaned against the wall near the fireplace, folding his arms. “Besides, we have the room reserved all night.” A slow grin swept across his face. “I don’t plan on talking long.”

“Nor do I,” Smith said, squatting near the chaise. He looked Kyra directly in the eye, transfixed by her. “But there are things that need to be settled.”

Tonight they had a plan: removing her last objection.

Smith understood Kyra’s issue with their work hours. She wanted a better life for herself than her mother had, and well, Brock and Smith did work too hard. They’d gotten used to filling an empty void in their lives, but now Kyra had taken that place.

He’d much rather spend his time with her than at the office. After Kyra walked away, Brock finally picked two people out of the pile of résumés, even if it had taken a couple of weeks to firm up.

Smith stared into her pretty eyes as her dark hair fell over her shoulder. He didn’t fault her for caring about how the world perceived her. Kyra wasn’t an emotional woman. She lived on logic, and in her logical mind, she couldn’t see how they could have a future.

Tonight, he’d show her how. “Brock and I empathize with how you feel. We get why you can’t understand how this works between us. Even how we could share you, and be okay with that.”

Tucking his fingers in between the top buttons of her silk blouse, he undid one. He paused for her reaction. At her silence, he smiled, and flicked open another button. “But, Kyra, I like you with Brock.” When he undid another button, he noticed the flare in her eyes. “I love the way he makes you smile and laugh.”

Brock interjected in a soft voice, “And I enjoy how Smith offers you a sense of security—a solid base to always come home to, just as he does me.” He pushed away from the wall, squatted beside Smith. “Do you see, we are better as two? We can give you more as two and only half of what you need as one.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Understand?”

Once Smith finished with the rest of the buttons on her shirt, exposing her gorgeous crimson-colored bra, she leaned forward. “Yes, I do.”

Smith didn’t know where this relationship would lead them, but one thing was certain, he wanted to give it a chance. He had never loved a woman like he loved Kyra. His addiction to her was relentless. In the last month, he’d never been more settled, more content, and Kyra was the reason for that.

Anything that ga

ve him that sense of comfort, he protected and kept close to him, always. Seeing that Brock and Smith didn’t have that bond with a mother when they were children, it gave them a greater need for it now. They’d finally found it with Kyra.

He brushed her shirt off her shoulders, then immediately undid her bra and tossed it aside. Her puckered nipples called for his mouth. “We’ve never been with a woman who we’ve wanted to share our life.” He lifted his head. “Any serious relationships have been separate and have failed. Our ménage relationships have always been casual. Though this between us isn’t something we can ignore.”

Smith stood, tucked a finger under her chin, and drew up her gaze to meet his head-on. “Besides, we’ve already been living a ménage relationship for a month, whether you want to accept that or not. We all know what we have between us is good.”

Brock grasped her wrists, tugging her to stand and pulling her close to him. He reached around her back and unzipped her skirt. A second later, the garment pooled at her feet. “We’ve enjoyed ménage relationships for a long time now because we like it and because we need it. We long ago accepted that.”