Get your head together.
I didn’t know who was more to blame: him for being so insanely gorgeous and sinfully attractive, or me, for still being on this sex-fueled high from my downright x-rated experience the night before.
Whichever the case, if this kept up, I was going to have to bring changes of underwear to work.
I cleared my throat.
“Yes, Mr. Snow?”
“Would you come in here?”
There was something so captivatingly demanding in something phrased as a question that my whole body tingled as I quickly rose from my desk. I opened the door from my office to his and stepped in to see him speaking with two other men in rich, expensive suits with their backs to me.
Prince Snow looked up and smiled that searingly hot, smug smile at me.
“Ms. Carlson, would you please hold my calls while I’m out to lunch with my friends?”
I smiled and half-bowed.
“Absolutely, sir—”
The words caught, choking in my throat.
Because right then, his two friends turned towards me, and my whole world exploded.
It all came rushing back — the kisses, the hands, the gasping moans, the growled demands for more. The way they’d made my body feel things I’d never felt before, and how they’d made me come like I’d never imagined I could come.
Because right there, in Prince Luke Snow’s office, I locked eyes with his two friends — friends who weren’t wearing masks this time, and who I now obviously recognized from the news.
Friends who weren’t putting their lips and tongues and hands all over me. Friends who weren’t making my body crumble from both ends with their two thick, gorgeous cocks.
…Friends who were otherwise known to me as Matthew and Van.
My one-night, two-man stand was standing right in front of me, and the floor dropped out beneath me.
Prince Snow kept talking, like I wasn’t in total free-fall, and like his two friends weren’t staring at me with a mixture of total shock and lingering hunger. He nodded at “Matthew.”
“This is…”
He introduced them, but I didn’t need it.
I knew who they were then. There, in that office, I suddenly knew exactly who the two men were who’d rocked my body until I was begging for more the night before.
“Matthew and Van,” aka, Prince Micah Anders of West Revania, and Prince Victor Swell, of South Revania.
My night of getting wild had just gotten a whole lot wilder. I’d had a threesome with two of the three most powerful men in the three kingdoms.
This was a royal catastrophe.
Chapter 6
Micah
“Tell me you’re fucking with me.”
Vic and I were silent, glancing at each other and then back across the white linen-draped table at Luke. His fist crashed onto the tabletop, sending silverware scattering and threatening to spill all three of our drinks.
“Don’t make a scene,” Victor growled quietly as one of the waitstaff stuck his head into the private dining room we were having lunch in.
“Fuck making a scene!” Luke roared, his fist crashing into the table again before he violently shook his head, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
“We obviously didn’t know, man,” I hissed at him, leaning my elbows on the table and shooting him a look. “How the fuck could we have?”
He said nothing, the three of us silent for a long minute or two.
“You both had her. Together.”
I glanced at Vic, and we both nodded.
Luke swore, standing abruptly and whirling. He stalked across the room to the big windows overlooking the capital of his kingdom of North Revania, leaning against it and muttering furiously.
Fuck.
I knew Vic and I both felt bad, but then, not that bad. Not after the night before, with her. Because the night before had been perfect.
She’d been perfect.
Sexy, gorgeous, fun, challenging. Willing to step outside her comfort zone. And more than that, too. Sure she was drop dead beautiful, but she’d stirred something in me — in both of us.
And now shit was about to get way complicated.
The thing was, it shouldn’t have been complicated — not with us, and not when there was a place where the three of us had “not argued” over girls before.
The club, of course.
Three crowns, one woman, one night. No names, no pictures, no nothing except anonymous fun. The whole point was blowing off steam, for rich, privileged men like us.
Men who liked to share.
And we did.
Hell, the three of us had grown up together. We were brothers in everything but blood, coming up together as the sons of the Trio of Kings that had ruled Revania of old. That was of course before the trade agreements that had started the fracturing of what had once been one country. Then it was the provincial local governments and “senators” our fathers had allowed to slowly take more and more control, until finally, about twenty years before, the unthinkable had happened.
The senators had forced a vote, and with money stuffing enough pockets, the election had been sealed — Revania would now be three countries rather than one. Three fractured states being run into the ground by bloated, thieving politicians hellbent on their own agendas. The three of us were still princes, of course — still royals and still the de-facto “leaders” of our own parts of Revania. But we had chokeholds on us now — politicians we had to “report to.”
So instead, the tree of us had focused on our business acumen, putting our efforts into running what had become three of the most profitable financial institutions in the world instead of the countries we rightfully should have been running.
But that was all neither here nor there at that lunch.
What mattered right there was that Luke was pissed. Normally, there wasn’t any jealousy between us. Being rich, young, and powerful, we’d of course had women throwing themselves at us from an early age. But none of us had ever gotten “stuck” on a woman. None of us had ever individually found someone we couldn’t get out of our heads, or hearts.
Instead, we shared, and mostly at the Club.
And that was the secondary problem here — the one none of us was addressing yet.
She knew who we were.
I’d seen the look on her face when we’d turned to meet Luke’s new personal assistant — the one he’d been obsessing over for weeks. The one girl who’d ever turned his damn head and stopped him in his tracks, and she was the very girl Vic and I had shared the night before.
Without him.
And that look on her face was a dead giveaway. Fuck the fact that we’d been wearing masks — that girl knew exactly who we were the second she’d locked eyes with us.
And that was a big fucking problem.
The club was anonymous. I mean, fuck, of course it was. Can you fucking imagine the scandal of a girl knowing who the men at that place were? Sure, a lot of them could put two and two together — or, hell, three and three together — what with the name of the club and all.
But there it lived in rumors.
Hearsay.
An urban legend.