9. Zoe
CHAPTER 9
ZOE
I blink awake slowly, disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings. Sunlight filters through half-drawn curtains, casting golden patterns across an enormous bed I don't recognize. A warm weight presses against both sides of my body, and as consciousness fully returns, my breath catches in my throat.
Oh. My. God.
Memories flood back in a torrent of images. Karl's mouth on mine. Rolf's hands exploring my body. Both of them taking turns, then both at once. The sounds I made—sounds I didn't know I could make.
I'm sandwiched between two magnificent male bodies, both completely naked. Karl's arm drapes possessively across my waist while Rolf's leg is thrown over mine, his face buried in my hair. The sheets barely cover any of us, and the evidence of our night together is everywhere—on my skin, between my thighs, in the delicious soreness that reminds me exactly what I've done.
What have I done?
I had sex with brothers. Brothers! The Becker brothers. My first big clients. The thought sends a wave of mortification through me, so powerful I nearly gasp aloud. What kind of woman does that make me? What would my mother say? My perfectly proper, socially conscious mother, who raised me to be a respectable young lady, would die of shame.
Yet even as embarrassment floods me, my body remembers. It remembers how it felt to be worshipped by four hands and two mouths, to be the center of attention for two of the most powerful, attractive men I've ever met. They looked at me like I was a goddess and seemed to know exactly what I needed before I did.
I need to leave. Now. Before they wake up, and see the regret that must be written all over my face.
Carefully, I begin extracting myself from between them, lifting Karl's arm slowly. I've almost reached freedom when his fingers tighten around my wrist.
"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is rough with sleep but unmistakably amused.
"I need to go," I whisper, attempting to extricate myself from their tangled limbs. "This was—I don't normally?—"
"Run away, you mean?" Rolf's eyes open, startlingly alert for someone who just woke up. His gaze pins me in place as effectively as his body. "That would be disappointing."
I clutch the sheet to my chest, suddenly aware of my nakedness. "This isn't me. I don't sleep with two men. Especially not brothers. I have a reputation, a career?—"
"A career you're brilliant at," Karl interrupts, propping himself on one elbow. His dark hair is adorably mussed, but his eyes are intense. "And a life you're entitled to enjoy however you choose."
Rolf sits up, the sheet falling away to reveal his sculpted torso. "We didn't plan this, Zoe. But I don't regret a moment of it."
"Neither do I," Karl adds, his finger tracing lazy circles on my bare shoulder. "And judging by those sounds you made last night, you didn't either."
I close my eyes, mortified yet unable to deny it. "That's not the point. In the light of day, this is?—"
"Still incredible," Rolf finishes, his hand finding mine above the sheets. "Still real."
I look between these gorgeous, powerful men who both want me. "People don't do this. Not for real."
Karl laughs softly. “Do you always follow convention?"
"Stay for breakfast," Rolf says, his tone gentle but leaving no room for argument. "At the very least, give us a chance to convince you this isn't a mistake."
My stomach betrays me with a loud growl, and despite everything, I laugh. The tension breaks slightly.
"See? Your body knows what it wants," Karl teases, his fingers trailing down my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
I should leave. I should grab my clothes and run. But their warmth surrounds me, and the memory of last night's pleasure weakens my resolve. "Just breakfast," I concede.
"Just breakfast," Rolf echoes with a smile that suggests he knows I'm lying to myself.
Karl slides out of bed, gloriously naked and unashamed. My eyes trace the muscled plane of his back, the curve of his perfect ass, and I feel a fresh wave of heat pool between my legs. Catching my stare, he winks before disappearing into what must be the bathroom.
"He's always been a show-off," Rolf murmurs close to my ear, his breath tickling my neck. "I prefer a more… subtle approach."
His hand slides beneath the sheet, finding the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I gasp as his fingers inch higher, teasing but not quite touching where I suddenly, desperately want him to.
"Rolf," I whisper, my voice embarrassingly breathy. "We said breakfast."
"This is just the appetizer," he replies, his lips brushing my earlobe. "A taste of what you'd miss if you walked out that door."
His skilled fingers finally reach their destination, and my head falls back against the pillow. How can I still want this so badly after everything we did last night?
"That's it," he encourages as my hips begin to move against his hand. "Show me how much you don't want this."
The bathroom door opens, and Karl emerges with a towel slung low on his hips, his hair damp. He stops, taking in the scene before him—me writhing under his brother's touch.
"Started without me?" he asks, but there's no jealousy in his voice, only heat.
"Just reminding Zoe why staying is better than leaving," Rolf explains, never stopping the maddening circles his thumb is making.
Karl approaches the bed, dropping his towel. "I think we need to be very thorough in our persuasion."
I should protest. I should maintain some dignity. Instead, I reach for Karl, pulling him down to kiss me as Rolf continues his exquisite torture. The last coherent thought I have before surrendering completely is that no one has ever made me feel this way—desired, powerful, and utterly free.
It seems that for breakfast, we will have to wait.