Bet on Ecstasy (Pact of Seduction 3)

Drunk!

She needed to get rip-roaring smashed so she could pass out and finally sleep well again. It would also fix the problem that every time she closed her eyes, she saw two men staring at her and she’d stop craving their heated touches.

Determined to get shitfaced, Kyra knocked back the remainder of her wine. The second she swallowed the warm liquid, she shuddered in complete horror at the acrid taste. And that’s when she noticed Kole standing from the bench.

Leaning over the table to Bella, he whispered something in her ear that had Bella flashing Kyra a smile. Full of suspicion, Kyra lowered the wineglass to the table. And Sadie slid out of the bench seat, practically bouncing on the spot in classic Sadie excitement.

“What’s with you?” Kyra asked.

As soon as the words passed her lips, her heart stopped beating, or at least skipped a few beats. Behind Sadie’s shoulder were two sets of eyes bringing forth heat and pooling a wicked warmth low in her body.

She couldn’t stop her eyes from widening as unleashed power in the form of two gorgeous men strode through the pub toward her. With stares that could melt ice, Smith and Brock were all business tonight. Their fierce expressions were something Kyra suspected their business associates faced often. Determined. Focused. Confident. Only now, apparently, she was the focus of their attention.

Brock slid into Sadie’s spot on the bench seat, moving in close next to Kyra. Smith strode around the table and took Kole’s seat. The men didn’t put distance between them as her friends had. Both closed in on her tight, the heat of their bodies engulfing her.

After a long pause, Kyra remembered she needed air to live. She sucked in a harsh breath, so aware of the men next to her. Intense energy came off them in waves rushing across her flesh, sending flickers of flames through her veins.

Brock grinned, yet this smile wasn’t one of proper etiquette. It was dirty and pure sex. “Hello, kitten.”

Smith swiped at the hair curtaining him from her view, brushing it over her shoulder and trailing a finger along her skin. “You look tired. Are you not sleeping well?”

Kyra shivered, his touch burning across her already scorching flesh. The slow flame descended her body, and she blinked, staring at Marley in front of her.

Marley’s green eyes sparkled as she twirled her finger through her dark curls, appearing all too relaxed. In fact, Marley looked too at ease. She’d never met Brock and Smith, and by all appearances, she knew exactly who they were.

Kyra scanned her friends’ faces, and all of them, including Kole, were smiling at her. Even Reed’s deep blue eyes twinkled, while he ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair. No one looked surprised by Brock and Smith’s sudden appearances. With that awareness, it all made sense.

Tonight, she’d been playe

d.

Narrowing her eyes, she pinned all five of her so-called friends with a hard stare. “What have you done?”

“Call it an intervention.” Marley smiled.

“Don’t be mad,” Sadie interjected in her sweet voice. “You’ve been so…”

“Damn depressed,” Bella muttered.

Before Kyra could decide if she loved her friends for the intervention or hated them for it, a finger caught her jaw. She turned and discovered Smith’s eyes were warm, yet troubled. “Answer me, Kyra.”

His powerful stare captivated her, and the strength shown in his features eased her. When he looked at her that way, her world settled. To be touched by him, looked at by him, it eased the coldness that’d been flowing through her veins. For the first time in two weeks, she lost herself in the sensation of rightness. “What was the question again?”

“Why do you look so tired?” Smith’s eyebrows drew together with his frown, his eyes appearing nearly black. “You don’t look well.”

“I…” She gulped.

“Miss us,” Brock stated.

His voice was classically light, and Kyra had missed the contradictions between the two. In the exact moment and dealing with the same situation, Smith was serious where Brock was lighthearted. It comforted her. Where Smith could make the mood overly tense, Brock knew how to soften it to the right amount to ensure things stayed under control.

Though she realized Brock had made a statement. One everyone at this table knew was true. Her lips parted to give some response, but all that came out was a whisper of air.

Smith captured her chin again, commanding her gaze. “Why are you punishing yourself like this?”

Kyra experienced the weight of his study right down to the center of her soul. She hated the clench of her chest. More so, she cursed the moisture welling in her eyes. Smith was right—it had been torture. She’d never been this weak, this lonely.

Each night had seemed harder than the one before. The desire to be in their arms tugged at her heart. She’d grown used to hearing their voices or going to sleep close to them. She didn’t even feel like herself anymore. Where had strong, focused, depend-on-no-one Kyra vanished to?