Chapter 11
Should I Stay or Should I Go?
GREER
I don’t waste time dressing, brushing my teeth and hair, and washing my face. Having looked over their diets and menus, I think I know what they want for breakfast. When I return to the kitchen, Roarke sits at the island with a cup of coffee.
He smirks and gives me a wink. “Morning, poppet.”
“Morning.” I grab eggs and turkey bacon out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter. It takes me a few seconds to remember where the pans are, but I finally find them.
After living in apartments for the past few years, having a full-sized kitchen is a dream come true. I’m just getting everything cooking when Wyatt comes inside. His wet hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a wet suit, stripped down to his waist.
“Good waves today?” Roarke leans back against the island, facing Wyatt.
Seriously, Wyatt could be a model. He’s gorgeous, and his body is a masterpiece of toned golden muscles. His black inked tattoo is striking against his skin. I’m lucky I’m not drooling over him.
With all these gorgeous men surrounding me, I won’t last a week without breaking down and having sex with someone, which isn’t normal for me.
But my hormones are out of control.
“Good waves.” He walks around the island and stops beside me. I try to pay attention to the bacon cooking. The smells of sunscreen, ocean, and sun fill my nose, making my knees weak. He grabs a Gatorade out of the refrigerator and drinks the whole thing while I watch his throat work. Fuck.
“Thirsty, poppet?” Roarke’s laughter breaks my stare down with Wyatt’s Adam’s apple.
“Need a taste, kitten?” That’s just not fair to put a voice like that on a guy like Wyatt. It slips under my skin and plays to dark fantasies I never shared with anyone.
I swallow and force a smile. “I’m good.”
I quickly plate the eggs and bacon and grab the piece of toast from the toaster before setting the plate in front of Roarke. “If something isn’t the way you like, let me know.”
“What do I get for breakfast?” Wyatt’s heat covers my back, and I regret not changing into actual clothes as my nipples harden in anticipation. His hands settle on the island on either side of my hips. He’s so much bigger than me. I’ve always been on the small side, but these men make me feel dainty.
“Yogurt, fruit, and granola,” I breathe out, pulling the info from my barely functioning brain.
His head dips beside mine, and he draws in a breath. Bracing myself on the island, I barely keep myself upright as my knees weaken.
“I like vanilla.” His lips graze my neck.
My breath catches and my eyes close at the innocent touch that feels so naughty. When my eyes open, Roarke smirks as he shovels eggs into his mouth.
“You should kiss her.” Roarke points with his fork. “She’s hot for it, aren’t you, poppet?”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Maybe kissing means something to our kitten.” Wyatt’s thumb brushes my hip bone, making heat settle between my legs. “Not all of us kiss for a living, Roarke.”
“Mmm.” He finishes chewing his bite. “Kissing is like breathing. It’s natural. We need it.” His blue eyes drop to mine to pin me in place. “My poppet just hasn’t been kissed enough or good enough. That ex of hers couldn’t have made her happy. I bet she faked it all the time with him. She needs to know how real men kiss.”
“I’ve been kissed by more guys than Chad.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to defend myself. Chad wasn’t exactly a sparkling example of the guys I dated. He was just easy to be swept away with. Even though we hadn’t been dating long, it was easier to live with him than in our separate, crowded, shared apartments.
Wyatt steps back and I turn to get his breakfast, but he steps in and lifts me on the counter. He tips my chin up and those hazel eyes search mine.
“If you don’t want me to kiss you, just tell me no, kitten.”
I should say no. I should do a lot of things I don’t do. He gives me plenty of time to stop him. To lightly touch his bare chest and push him away. But my whole body hums in anticipation.
Will it be different than when Roarke kisses me? Chad was a sloppy kisser. All tongue and wet. Roarke kisses with his whole body; seriously, it feels like he’s making love to my mouth.
Wyatt’s lips brush mine, startling me back to the present. His eyes are open, watching me, waiting for me to say no. Little shocks jolt my system. His lips brush mine again. His eyes darken. He slides his hands along my jaw, holding me in place as his mouth takes mine. My lips part on a gasp, longing for more.
My hands grasp the edge of the counter as his tongue brushes my lower lip, making me open beneath him. A low growl works out of his chest, rippling through me. My panties are soaked as he claims my mouth, making me forget everything but the taste of the salty ocean, the tanginess of Gatorade, and the dark taste of him. I want to drink him in and never let him go.
My hands have minds of their own, moving to his bare skin at his waist as my legs part so he can come closer. He steps into me, and the bulk of his wet suit doesn’t distract from the large bulge pressing against my pussy.
As he explores my mouth, that bulge gets harder and larger. He lifts his lips from mine and his darkened eyes open. “Sweet, like I knew you’d taste.”
I release my breath. This isn’t me. But maybe it is. Maybe it’s okay in this house that this isn’t me. With these men I would never have met if I didn’t apply for this job. Maybe while I live this fantasy life, I can explore some fantasies of my own. With all of them.
“We’re going to get into so much trouble, kitten.” Wyatt cocks a smile that makes my belly bottom out. Fuck, he’s intoxicating. He lifts me off the counter and sets me on my feet. My knees barely hold me. His thumb trails along the elastic of my shorts, brushing against the trembling skin of my belly. “I’ll be back after my shower.”
When he steps away, his gaze flicks over my shoulder at Roarke before he walks around the corner to the stairs. My heart thunders in my ears. I can think of a million reasons not to get involved with these guys.
They’re wealthy, famous, elite, and I’m me. Barely any clothes on my back. Running from a shitty ex in an even shittier apartment. No future. A twisted, fucked-up past.
But they want me. The same way Chad wanted me at first. Somehow, in my mind, someone wanting me makes me feel like I belong. But I have to remember that it’s temporary. I don’t really belong to anyone. No one who was supposed to want me would keep me, so why would anyone else.
“Poppet.” Roarke’s voice drags me from my thoughts. He looks at me like I’ve done something wrong. Shit, what did I do? Is he going to kick me out? As fear washes over me, his look gentles. “Come here, Greer.”
Uncertainty thrums through me as I walk around the island to his side. He turns on his stool and our faces are about level.
“You’re not going to cry on me again, right?” He actually looks worried that I might.
“No. I don’t usually cry.” I draw in a breath and wait for him to tell me to get my stuff and go.
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck.
“There’s nothing to fear here, poppet. If there was, I’d take care of it for you.” His thumb caresses my jaw while he searches my eyes. “Whatever bad things happened in the past, I’ve got you now.”
I blow out a breath. If only it were that easy, but he doesn’t have me. This isn’t some magical story where I turn into the belle of the ball. I’m the hired help, and that’s it. They’re just lines he’s saying. He’s this famous actor more comfortable playing a role than maybe in his own skin.
Again, it feels like I know him, but I don’t. Not really. Who he is as a person is a complete mystery to me, but I know how he makes me feel. He makes me feel alive, but he’s not here to save me.
He smirks. “I see your doubt, poppet. Trust doesn’t come easy, but I can put in the time because I have a feeling you’ll be worth it.”
When I open my mouth to tell him I’m not, his lips crash against mine, taking my words from me and spinning me out again. He draws me between his legs and holds me against him as he explores my mouth like Wyatt just did.
I don’t think I’ve ever kissed two guys in the same day, let alone one right after the other. Something burns a little hotter inside me. Roarke pulls away and searches my eyes again.
“Hmm, I think we should spend the day having sex,” he announces.
I laugh out loud. He has to be kidding. He grins and looks really encouraged.
“She’s my emotional support human today, Roarke.” Aiden’s voice makes me lift my gaze to watch him walk into the room. He’s dressed for the day in jeans and a shirt that hugs his lean muscles.
“I found her.” Roarke’s hands tighten on my waist.
“You answered the phone.” Aiden holds his hand out to me and I take it. Every little touch with Aiden lights me up and makes me long for more. Roarke reluctantly lets me go.
“None of you would have invited her to interview.” He picks up his bacon and points it at Aiden. “You should be thanking me. You could have gotten another boring drug dealer again.”
He gives me a wink as Aiden draws me back into the kitchen. “Do you need help making breakfast?”
My cheeks feel hot as I shake my head. “I’ve got it.”
He brushes my hair behind my ear and his focus drops to my lips. My insides tighten and heat floods me like someone dropped me on the surface of the sun. How could I want a third guy to kiss me? I’ve never been like this, but I want Aiden to.
I want to know what Aiden Clyborne tastes like.
My tongue darts out to wet my lips, and Aiden clears his throat.
“You wanted to know my schedule. Today is a perfect day to follow me.” He steps back to lean against the counter.
To cover my disappointment in not getting a kiss (because I’m greedy that way, apparently), I open the refrigerator again and get out the fruit and yogurt. Then I go to the pantry and find the granola.
Both Aiden and Wyatt had similar breakfasts down. So I cut up some fruit and put together two bowls of yogurt with fruit and granola.
“Normally, I would wake around the same time Wyatt is up to go surfing.” Aiden talks while I work. “Then I shower and get ready for the day.”
He holds his hands out to his sides to draw my attention to his outfit. His gaze trails over my bare legs and the thin sleep set I have on. Self-conscious, I draw my sweater tighter around me, knowing it won’t stay that way. I should have changed. I should hide my figure.
Always leave them wanting more.
It’s not surprising that Mary’s words keep coming back to me. This was her life, rubbing elbows with the Hollywood elite.
My foster mother, Mary, wanted to keep me. She wasn’t really looking for a daughter, though. More of a companion to keep her occupied between visits from her director lover. As a teenager, I loved her wild lifestyle and her novel way of looking at life.
But even that ended badly. They always do.
I hand Aiden a bowl. “And then breakfast?”
Smiling, he takes the food. “Yes, breakfast. You’ll join me?”
He glances at the other bowl.
“That’s for Wyatt.”
“What are you having?” He raises an eyebrow in that way that makes me feel unsure of myself. It’s like I suddenly remember this guy is a megastar and I’m supposed to be humbled to be in his presence.
“What do you like, poppet?” Roarke brings his plate around, trapping me between him and Aiden.
I’ve been short my whole life, but I’ve never felt small like I do around these two.
Roarke grabs the edges of my sweater and holds it open, frankly assessing my body. I roll my eyes up to the sky, because what else am I supposed to do? Protest? Make an issue about it after he’s had his fingers inside me? It’s not like he’s stripping me naked.
Trust me, I know about consent. And when I can say no. I know if I say no, he’ll stop. He’ll apologize and we’ll go on like nothing happened. But part of me longs for this attention, for all their attention. I’m not saying it’s healthy, but damn does it feel good.
“You could use a little meat on your bones, poppet.” His laughing eyes meet mine. His hold on my sweater draws me closer to him. “Want me to fix you a hearty breakfast?”
I’m not sure I want to know what he means.
I bite my lip. “I’m just going to make myself some yogurt.”
He chuckles but releases me. “Fine. I think my breakfast would be superior, but have your yogurt.”
I quickly make myself a bowl with the leftovers from the fruit I cut up. When Wyatt reappears, I hand him his bowl. Grinning, he leans down and gives me a quick kiss. I freeze.
“So that’s happening?” Aiden gives Wyatt a look that I can’t quite read.
“You should get in there.” Roarke leads me over to the table with my bowl and sits in the chair before pulling me down on his lap. He’s all hard muscle beneath me.
“I can sit in my own chair.” It’s more of a formal statement than an actual request.
“You barely qualify to ride in the front seat, poppet. Now eat your breakfast like a good girl while I convince Aiden to stop with the slow-burn thing you two have going.”
My gaze lifts to Aiden’s bemused shake of his head. “Slow burn?”
“This whole ‘will they, won’t they’ thing can only last so long.” Roarke frowns like it’s a tragedy.
“We haven’t even known each other a whole day, Roarke.”
Wyatt laughs. “If I were a betting man—”
“You normally are.” Aiden’s delivery is dry.
Wyatt winks at me. “But I would never bet on something like how Roarke gets under someone’s skin quickly. After all, he’s had his finger in her pussy already.”
Even my ears burn this time. “That was a special circumstance.”
“It was very special, poppet.” Roarke’s voice is a low rumble beneath me. “And bears repeating.”
When Roarke stands with me in his arms, I’m still holding my spoon from my yogurt.
“Please put me down.” I keep my tone polite but firm.
“I figured we’d go somewhere private, but we could do it right here, poppet.” Roarke sits in the chair with me on his lap. His fingers toy with the waistband on my sleep shorts. “I like an audience, and these two would love to watch you come first thing in the morning.”
My eyes widen. Fuck, is this normal for them?
After all, he suggested it yesterday too. I’ve never had sex in public or somewhere I could be caught. But this is even beyond that. He wants to make me come while they watch.
Maybe it’s just Roarke.
“I’m good.” I shovel a spoonful of yogurt into my mouth, trying not to think about how wet his words made me.
Roarke’s dark chuckle races down my spine. “Tell me, poppet, you think you’re quiet when you orgasm, which you clearly aren’t…”
I swallow the yogurt hard and wish I had a glass of water to wash it down.
“Did you orgasm during sex with your ex?”
Wyatt leans back with a cocky smile on his face, looking wholly entertained by Roarke’s question. Aiden tilts his head slightly like he’s interested in my answer.
“Are we really going to do this at the breakfast table? On day two of me being here?” I twist to meet Roarke’s jovial eyes.
“Poppet, typically I’m through all this uncomfortable talk and on to more pleasurable pursuits within the first hour of meeting a woman.” He catches my chin to hold me there. “You seemed almost shocked when you came around my finger. That makes me think it’s either been a while since someone has gotten you off, or…”
Please don’t say it. Fuck, it’s humiliating to be so inadequate that I can’t come from being fucked. That I’ve faked every shared “orgasm” I had with a partner.
Yesterday could be chalked up to the stress of the situation. The rush of having someone like Roarke Flynn touch me like that. It’s probably just a fluke.
“Or you’ve never come with anyone before, kitten.” Wyatt’s words make me tremble in Roarke’s arms.
Roarke cocks his head to the side as he studies me. For a second, I brace myself for him to set me to the side. For all of them to say, Oh, well, that sucks for you.
Instead, Roarke smiles. “We can fix that.”
All that comes from my mouth is a squeak. Seriously. I’ve walked into a completely foreign land where the rules I grew up with mean nothing.
“Is it so hard to believe that I could make you feel something no one else has?” Roarke leans in until his breath caresses my lips. “I could spend all day making you come, over and over and over again, poppet. Would you like that?”
Words fail me as I contemplate what he’s offering me.
“Maybe no one’s touched upon her darker fantasies.” Mason’s deep voice draws my attention into the kitchen, where he stands in a pair of pajama pants dangling low on his hips. His body is cut but lean. His arms flex as he lifts the coffee mug to his lips. He takes a small sip. “Want to play, little mouse?”