I sense that she’s about to ask what the hell’s gotten into me, but I don’t give her the chance. “Come here.” Wrapping my hand around her slender throat, I pull her back against my chest. Why shouldn’t I take what I want from the lying little bitch? She should suffer the way she’s made us suffer.
I yank her towel off with my free hand, and her breath hitches, causing her tits to jiggle. She eyes me in the mirror, her cheeks and chest flushed pink with arousal. Like anything about this is going to be about her. My hands fumble on my belt and zipper as the need to hate-fuck her surges through my veins.
She shivers, and I don’t know if it’s from fear or excitement. And I don’t fucking care. Finally freeing my aching cock, I kick her legs apart, spreading her open for me. With a tight grip on her throat, I drive inside her. A gasp tumbles from her juicy pink lips, and her eyes shutter closed. She places her hands on the vanity for support as I rail into her. Blinded by my rage, I drive into her with punishing thrusts and try to rid myself of all the anguish coursing through me. I want to hurt her. Make her suffer. Make her weep. Fucking make her bleed.
Except that I don’t. I can’t.
I slow my pace, and she sags against me, a soft groan tumbling from her lips. I run my nose over her neck and inhale her sweet scent. My cock pulses, and the desire to make her moan my name while I fill her with my cum consumes me. She has some kind of fucking hold on me that I can’t seem to break. I slide my free hand between her thighs and swirl my fingertips over her swollen clit.
“West,” she rasps. “I love you.”
My heart cracks open. Fucking liar. I rock my hips, driving deeper into her tight, hot cunt. “Why did you have to be so fucking perfect for us?” My instincts take over, and I get lost in the feel of her in my arms.
She’s too busy soaking me with her release and squeezing me like she’ll never let me go to answer. Fucking liar. As soon as the last drop of cum drips out of me, I pull out and zip up my pants, but her hand on my arm stops me before I can walk out. “Are you sleeping in here tonight?” She looks at me with eyes full of the emotion she just spoke of, and the pieces of my heart tremble, desperate to be pieced back together. If only the one person who held those pieces hadn’t turned out to be an illusion.
“I can’t. Too much to do before tomorrow.”
The look of disappointment that settles over her face appears so real that I almost buy it. “Well, I’m really looking forward to the launch.” She expertly trades her dejected expression for one of pride. “It’s so huge for you guys. It’s huge for the magazine.”
“Yeah. Huge. Get some sleep.”
Chapter
Forty-One
LILY
I slick on a final coat of lipstick and check my reflection in the mirror. Smiling to myself, I smooth my hands over the fabric of the same red dress I wore the night I met the guys at Marché de Viande. It seemed only fitting to wear it tonight. Like we’ve come full circle. I guess we have.
Butterflies swirl in my stomach. Establishing Hellsgate Media is akin to conquering the world, and I’m so proud of them. And if I’m honest, the shy high school nerd with braces is also excited beyond belief to be their guest for the evening.
And after tonight, I will put on my big girl pants and initiate a conversation about our arrangement. Our three months will be up in a few days, and I don’t want it to end. I don’t think that they do either. While it’s outside the norm to have my heart stolen by not one man but three, our relationship feels so effortlessly right. Except they didn’t steal it, did they? I gave it willingly.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I wonder how the hell I got so lucky? West, Zeke, and Xander are any woman’s dream, and having the love of all three of them feels like I’ve somehow cheated at life and come out the victor.
I grab my purse and head for the elevator. A car is waiting for me downstairs, and the guys are waiting for me at the club. Without warning, anxiety churns in my gut, and I fight to swallow it down. Everything will be fine. So what if every single person in the media world is going to be there tonight? It doesn’t matter if rumors fly about my article being published because I’m dating West Archer because I know the truth.
The truth.
It sits like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I can tell the guys that I don’t feel well and spend the night curled up in bed watching trashy TV instead. I could wait for them to come home and celebrate with them then.
I shake my head. No. I must go. And then tomorrow, before I ask them if I can stay, if we can make our arrangement permanent, I will tell them who I really am. Even if it means losing them.