Esme
After double-checking that Amelia seemed happy with the guy she was talking to, I drained my glass of water. I set it on the bar top, giving the bartender a little finger wave. “Thanks for the drinks. Make sure to give yourself a one hundred percent tip. Oh, and email that receipt to the Barbier account. Anything my girl wants goes on my tab. Got it?”
His gaze flickered to the men at my back. I snapped my fingers, bringing his focus back to me. “All eyes on me. Do you hear what I’m saying? My girl. My tab. No one else. I will check.”
He inclined his head. “Of course, Miss Barbier. Whatever you wish.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear.” With a wink, I stepped back, ignoring Mr. Golden Lion’s desperate eyes. “It was a pleasure finally meeting you three daddies, but I’m bored now. I’m going to go check out a few of the exhibition rooms. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Before I could turn away, Mr. Bear caught me by the back of my neck. All it would take was a few taps on my smartwatch and I knew Otto and Astro would intervene, but I felt zero fear as I gulped up at the man gripping me so tightly. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his pupils dilated in a very, very dangerous way.
I grinned up at the angry, hungry beast. “There’s my daddy.”
If he hadn’t made a move, I would have walked away without another thought for him and his friends. But since he had, I was going to enjoy a night with them.
After that?
It couldn’t be more than a single night. Eloise had lied about being with them for a reason. If she’d lied. Despite Mr. Panther’s denial and his adamance about not being into blondes, I wasn’t sure I believed that they knew nothing about my sister. Eloise had been way too convincing. Either it was true—or she believed her own lie to the point of mental illness.
As badly as I wanted to think she was a nutcase, I couldn’t imagine it.
Which meant I could only give myself one night with the yummy daddies.
“Malcolm,” he said raggedly.
Malcolm Barclay was my bear. A shiver danced along my spine that I didn’t try to hide. I liked riling him up. What else could I do to make those dark eyes go that chocolate color?
“Hey, Mal, wanna make me come?”
“We need a private room,” he tossed at his two friends, his entire body vibrating. “Now.”
No one else said a word, the other two seeming to hold their breath. Waiting. Silently pleading. For all of three seconds, I wondered if they had ever verbally begged for anything in their lives. It took effort, but I glanced from Mal’s dark eyes to the golden lion.
I was never going to forget how he’d stopped Malcolm from coming to me that night at Ignite—how he’d stopped himself . I couldn’t remember anything hurting as much as that had hurt me. Maybe I’d forgive him if he gave me enough orgasms. But that was a big maybe. Until then, he had to work for it.
Smirking at him, I flicked my gaze to Mr. Panther. Those rainstorm-gray eyes told me all I wanted to know. He wanted to be with me so badly, but he was leaving the decision up to me. Smart man. Patience would get him exactly what he craved, but he wasn’t absolved for staying away any more than his friend was.
“Are there any rooms with a bed big enough for the four of us?”
Malcolm placed his hand against the small of my back, his flexing fingers scrunching my dress up a few inches, causing the two men a few steps behind us to mutter something vicious under their breaths. Peeking at them over my shoulder, I was pleased to find their eyes on my ass. The bodysuit I had beneath my dress had a thong bottom, leaving my cheeks exposed for their viewing pleasure.
Through the gap between them, I saw Amelia watching me walk off with my daddies. “Have fun!” I mouthed. She was enamored with her new friend. I heard him tell her his name was Trevor, but I’d been distracted by Malcolm and the other two daddies. He was guiding her toward the same general direction we were walking.
On the next floor, Malcolm passed one closed door after another. A number was on the wall beside each of them, but there was no way for me to know what kinds of games were being played behind those closed doors. Malcolm seemed to know exactly where he was going, though. Several rooms later, he opened a door and ushered me inside first.
Walking to the center of the room, I took in the gigantic bed in the center of the room. It had eight fluffy pillows with cases the same shade of coffee brown as the comforter that was turned down to expose the white sheets beneath. The room didn’t have a single window, but all the lamps cast a soft glow. An open door suggested a private bathroom, which made sense. I didn’t want to leave the club covered in sweat and bodily fluids after a little fun.
My scan of the room barely took a few seconds, and then I heard the door shut. Heart rate spiking, excitement and need twisting and burning low in my belly, I swung around on my heels to face the three men. They loosened their ties, tossing them aside as their eyes raked over me from head to toe and back up again.
It was difficult to focus on just one of them. My eyes darted from one to the other to the other. Malcolm didn’t wear cuff links, so as soon as his jacket was off, his shirt followed. All those tattoos that climbed his neck also branched down his chest and sides. Ink covered eighty percent of his upper body.
And what a delicious body it was. Hard ridges. Toned muscles. He was huge, but he didn’t have a single ounce of excess fat. He deftly worked his fingers on his belt without taking his eyes off me. I wasn’t sure he was even blinking.
Fuck, that was hot. Having all his attention. Knowing he was going full beast mode from his hunger for me was enough to make me self-combust then and there.
Mr. Panther popped a few buttons on his shirt as he clawed it off. He had a sleeve of ink on one shoulder and down his arm, identical to the sleeve on Malcolm’s arm. What stood out the most was a dagger and arrows with two words in Latin. Sine pari.
Without equal.
“Were you in the military?” It wasn’t like I had a lot of experience with tattoos and their meanings. Papa didn’t have any that I was aware of, and while Otto and Astro had some, they were related to their previous line of work protecting French dignitaries in not-so-friendly parts of the world.
“Army,” Malcolm answered, drawing my attention back to him. Something in his voice sent a small quake through my heart. “All three of us served together. From basic training all the way until…” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Until the end of our military careers.”
Crossing the space that separated us, I pressed my palm to the center of his chest. His nose flaring, eyes dilating, he covered my hand with both of his. I couldn’t imagine the terrible things he’d seen. I’ve never once had to witness the harsher sides of life firsthand, but I wasn’t ignorant to the reality of them.
Meeting his dark eyes, I saw the hauntedness in their depths. “Whatever your military career required of you, I’m glad you’re here now, Malcolm. That you each made it out of there so you could get to me.”
Three passionate curses bounced through the air. There was no violence in the exclamations, but the sheer reverence, the pure heat, of those words stroked along my body like a physical caress. Mr. Panther stalked up behind me, pressing his now-bare chest to my back. His mouth dropped to my neck. I arched back into him, my body having a will of its own as I lifted a hand to hold him to me.
“Parker,” he murmured as he kissed and nipped his way across my shoulder, his fingers finding the zipper under my left arm. I could feel how hard he was through his slacks. His dick was massive, just like the rest of his body. I turned my head, brushing my lips over his jaw. “Your panther’s name is Parker Tatum.”
Malcolm dropped to his knees, pushing up my skirt while his friend worked on unzipping me. I was so distracted by Parker’s mouth that I didn’t notice when Malcolm unsnapped the bottom of my bodysuit, exposing my drenched pussy. Less than a second passed between the material disappearing and his mouth covering me.
As soon as his tongue found my clit, I detonated. “Fuck!” I screamed, my body convulsing from the shock of so much pleasure.
His tongue was relentless, swirling around as my body became his puppet, ready to bend to and serve his every demand. Greedy slurping noises barely registered in my mind as he worked me toward a second release with nothing more than that wicked, masterful tongue.
“Get her naked,” Malcolm commanded, pulling back from me for just a moment.
With a distressed cry, I grabbed the back of his head. “More!”
He nipped the inside of my thigh. “Easy, baby girl. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“More,” I half sobbed, for the first time in my life not caring if I sounded weak. Everything I’d ever thought I knew about orgasms was a lie. I’d never, not one time, been able to achieve that level of pleasure on my own. Not with my fingers or even the little battery-operated rabbit friend I had hidden in my bedside table.
Nothing had prepared me for such a rapturous experience with Malcolm. And he’d gotten me off with just a little suction from his lips and a twirl of the tip of his tongue.
How would I survive when I came on his cock?