Hot 4 (Multiple Love)

"What did you order?" I imagine more delicious and exotic Thai food, but Holden confirms it's burgers and fries.

"We need our energy after you sapped us dry," he grins.

"I sapped you? There are four of you and one of me. Does that mean I'm getting four burgers?"

"You can have as many burgers as you want if it's gonna make you want to fuck like that again."

I squeeze my legs together, and my pussy feels tender and still swollen with arousal. "I think you might need to give me some time to recover."

Kane tugs me against his chest, pressing a kiss on my forehead. "You can take as much time as you like."

There's a distant ringing sound coming from the kitchen that sounds familiar—my cell phone.

"That's mine," I say, breaking away from Kane. By the time I reach my purse, the ringing has stopped, and when I check my phone, I find out that it was my dad.

My heart sinks.

It's not that I don't love my dad. I do. But he has a way of making me feel crappy, even when he doesn't mean to. At least, I try to assume that he doesn't mean it. If I call him back, it could really kill my buzz. These past couple of days have been so awesome that breaking the spell seems almost sacrilegious, but it could be an emergency, and if it turned out to be something bad, I'd never forgive myself. I dial his number quickly, saying a silent prayer that he just wants to check up on me.

"Dad," I say. "Hey."

"Hey, Connie. I didn't think you were going to pick up," he says. In the background, I can hear cars passing, so he must be out and about.

"My phone was in my purse."

"How's Thailand? How was the wedding?"

"Thailand is beautiful, and the wedding was perfect," I tell him, turning so I'm facing away from where the boys are gathering to take their food. I notice that they're keeping their voices low, which is so considerate of them.

"Not exactly perfect with three men," Dad says. "I don't know how those parents could face the rest of their family at such a scandalous event."

"It wasn't scandalous," I say, knowing it's pointless to argue with him because there is no way that anything that I say will change his mind.

"I don't know what kind of world we're living in when this kind of thing is accepted."

"It's the twenty-first century Dad, not the dark ages."

"Well, that's not what Carmella said." Of course, my sister would agree with him.

"So, how are things back home?" Trying to change the subject seems like the best option.

"They're good. Carmella just got a promotion. She's vice president at her firm now. And she's buying a house over on Kennedy Street. It's just been renovated, so she won't have to lift a finger."

"That's awesome." I mean it, even though a big part of me feels sick that my sister has managed to impress my father again, and I'm still floundering around in a job that isn't getting me anywhere.

"She has focus, just like her father."

I can practically feel the smugness oozing through the phone. And this is exactly why I didn't want to pick up the phone. I don't even know how to respond without sounding like a suck-up or an asshole. "I'm about to eat, Dad," I say, glancing at the trolley to the plate of food that is still covered. My stomach grumbles noisily.

"Is Natalie with you?"

"She's on honeymoon now."

"So, who are you with?"

The devil in me wants to scream that I'm currently shacked up with four men who are filling me every chance they get. I would love to disappoint him so much that I don't have to get subjected to these bullshit calls anymore. But the guilty me, the one who grew up desperately trying to please him, still wants him to find something worthy about me that he would boast about to other people.

"Just some friends," I say. "It's like another world here, Dad."

"Well, be careful you don't end up with dysentery. I've heard all about the lack of sanitation in these third-world countries."

"I'm at a five-star hotel, Dad."

"Still. They probably don't wash their hands after they use the bathroom."

"Well, thanks for calling to check on me. I'll be in touch when I'm back home."

We say our goodbyes, but I'm still carrying a lead weight in my stomach as I grab my plate and head outside.

The boys are all tucking into their food but stop to look up when I appear. I force a bright smile to my face, but I'm not sure that it's convincing. The sun reflects off the rippling surface of the amazing pool, and all I want to do is sink into its calming depths and forget all about home.

"Was that your dad?" Harris asks.