Page 123 of Theirs to Desire (Club M: Boxed Set)

KIERA

T here’s a knock on my door Friday morning. It’s a man carrying a garment bag. “Delivery for Kiera O’Leary,” he says.

“That’s me.” I sign for the package, and, as soon as I shut my front door, I unzip the bag, excitement coursing through my body.

Everything about today is unbelievable. I keep pinching myself. I’m going on a date with Caleb and Nolan tonight. It feels like I’ve entered bizarro world, where up is down and down is up, and two handsome, successful men are interested in me.

And they’ve sent me a dress.

It’s a whisper of fabric, the softest sliver of a garment, in a shade of purple so deep that it could be black.

I try it on, and it fits perfectly. The fabric skims my curves in a way that makes me look subtly sexy.

The neckline is a simple vee, and the skirt falls to my ankles in delicate, dreamlike tiers.

It’s so pretty. I feel like a princess. All I need is a tiara.

There’s no tiara, but the dress comes with a pair of strappy silver sandals. They fit, of course. I shake my head—when did Caleb and Nolan learn my shoe size?—and put them on.

When I was growing up, we shopped at the Salvation Army. I’ve never owned such a beautiful dress. I’ve never bought myself something this nice.

Club M pays decently. Xavier Leforte does not stint on benefits, and the members tip well. But I’ve still never indulged myself. Every spare cent I earn I set aside in case I need to run at a moment’s notice.

Last night, Nolan and Caleb told me that I had nothing to be afraid of anymore. Sirkovich wasn’t getting out of jail anytime soon, and he wasn’t in a position to send people after me.

I’ve spent so many years in hiding. It still hasn’t sunk in that I don’t have to look over my shoulder for a threat. I can finally relax. I can do things that I didn’t think were possible.

I spend an embarrassing amount of time staring at my reflection in the mirror. I am safe. My sister is alive. I’m going out on a date with Nolan and Caleb.

If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.

At three-thirty, there’s a knock on my door.

My pulse starts to race. I grab my bag. A Christmas gift from Fiona last year, it’s silver in color and beaded, and just large enough to fit ID, a credit card, and a tube of lipstick.

I take one final look in the mirror—this would be an awful time to find spinach stuck in my teeth—and open the front door.

Caleb and Nolan are standing there, both wearing charcoal gray suits. Their eyes go hot when they take me in. “You look amazing,” Caleb says.

I drink them in. It’s rare to see Nolan in a suit. “You look pretty good yourselves. Thank you for the dress.” I smile up at them. “Should I be scared that you guessed my size so accurately?”

Nolan grins. “I’d love to pretend to be some kind of dress whisperer,” he says. “But we called Dixie for help.”

Oh, I am never going to hear the end of this. “You did?”

“Is that okay?” Caleb runs his hand through his hair. “I wanted to make sure we got you something that you’d like, not just something we wanted to see you in.”

That’s really thoughtful. “I’m surprised Dix agreed to help you.”

“We had to do some groveling,” Nolan admits. “And she promised to cut off our balls if we screwed with you again.”

My mouth falls open. “Dix didn’t say that.”

Caleb laughs. “Not in those words,” he says. “We read between the lines.” He hands me his arm. “Shall we?”

We head to a waiting limo. Whoa. Pretty dress. Sexy shoes. Luxury car. Broadway tickets. Looks like Cinderella’s going to the ball tonight.

Caleb shuts the partition between the driver and the back as soon as we get underway. “Drink?” he asks me, quirking an eyebrow. “Champagne?”

Why not? It’s a long drive to New York. “Yes, please.”

The limo is well-stocked. Apart from the champagne, the cooler holds bottles of water, beer, as well as a tray of fruit.

Fancy. Nolan pours me a glass of champagne.

The three of us chat as the car eats up the miles.

For a while, we continue the animated conversation we had last night about our favorite books, movies, and television shows.

I discover that Nolan loves watching cooking programs. “It’s weird, I know,” he says, shrugging disarmingly. “But I find it relaxing.”

I picture him on a couch, drinking beer and watching Gordon Ramsey throw a tantrum, and I giggle. “What about you?” I ask Caleb. “What’s your guilty pleasure?”

“I have an inexplicable love for cheesy eighties movies,” he admits. “My dad had quite the collection. Other kids would read their fathers’ Playboys. Not me.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

He winces. “I watched ‘My Stepmother is an Alien’ eight times.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, a smile playing about his lips. “Sadly, no.” His fingers brush against mine. “Do you want a refill?”

It’s a light touch, but it’s left me breathless. Their thighs bracket mine. My skin feels tingly. My breasts ache. My insides coil and twist with need.

I’m a lightweight, but this isn’t the effects of one glass of champagne. This is me responding to them. This is desire, pure and simple. This is the culmination of days and weeks of wanting them.

“I probably shouldn’t,” I whisper.

Nolan puts his hand on my thigh. “You don’t want champagne,” he says. “Do you want something else?”

You.

Caleb takes my hand in his. His fingers trace soft circles on my palm. My skin breaks out into goosebumps. We’re in the back seat of a limo, and we’re just seconds away from making out. One word from me. One whispered ‘yes.’ That’s all it’ll take.

Anticipation claws through me, heady and intoxicating.

“Open your mouth, Kiera.”

Nolan removes a chocolate-covered strawberry from the cooler and dangles it at my lips.

He teases the seam of my mouth with the sweet fruit and coats my lower lip with chocolate.

I gasp, and he dips his head toward me. “Here’s something you don’t know about me,” he murmurs. “I find chocolate irresistible.”

Then he sucks my lip into his mouth.

I feel his kiss everywhere. My toes curl, my core tightens, and my body ignites with desire. There is an ache between my legs that won’t be kept at bay, not any longer.

With a muffled growl, Nolan pulls me onto his lap. I feel his thick erection straining to break free, and I grind against it, too needy to be embarrassed by how wanton I’m acting.

One glass of champagne and I’ve gone from zero to sixty in the space of five seconds.

“That’s it,” Caleb encourages, his voice low, deep, and dark. He exchanges a glance with Nolan, who shifts me so I’m sideways on his lap. “You want this, don’t you, Kiera? Tell us. Show us.”

His big hand glides up my bare calves. Slowly, deliberately, he inches higher. I shift against Nolan and part my legs to give him easier access. His low chuckle causes heat to flush through my cheeks.

Nolan offers me the strawberry. I hold his gaze in mine and bite into the juicy fruit.

He growls, deep in his throat. Wrapping his fingers in my hair, he pulls me closer.

“Are you wet, Kiera?” he demands, velvet-steel in his voice.

“If Caleb spreads your legs and pushes his face in your sweet little pussy, is he going to find you soaked?”

Oh God. My face blazes. I thought that the first night in the pool was hot, when Caleb had eaten me out while Nolan jerked himself off.

I thought that my brief flirtation with BDSM was wicked and tempting.

Nolan trailing the tails of a suede flogger over my body…

Caleb promising to tie me up and spank me…

But as deeply, intensely, sexy as all of that was, it’s nothing compared to now. I had no idea how much of themselves they’d been holding back until I see the raw heat blaze from their eyes.

“He asked you a question, Kiera.” Caleb’s hand stops at my knee. The dress is bunched around my thighs. “Don’t you think you should answer?”

I shake my head, a wicked thrill shooting through me. A grin curves over Caleb’s lips. “That’s how we’re playing it, are we? Someone really wants to get punished.”

He spanks the inside of my thighs, and I gasp at the sharp contact. “Keep your voice down, sweetness,” he warns. “Unless you want the driver to hear you moan.”

I shiver again, every nerve in my body ablaze.

Nolan licks the seam of my lips. “So fucking sweet,” he rasps. His grip on my hair tightens. His mouth meets mine, demanding entrance, demanding surrender, demanding everything I have to give and more.

I cling to Nolan, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him back, even as Caleb’s hands inch higher. Inch closer and closer to my wet heat.

“Soaked.” Masculine satisfaction drenches Caleb’s voice. He skims his fingers over my damp panties, and I whimper into Nolan’s mouth. “Absolutely fucking soaked.”

His thumb presses my throbbing clit through the silky fabric, and I almost arch off Nolan’s lap. Nolan’s grip on me tightens, and Caleb chuckles darkly. “Do you want to come, Kiera?” he growls.

So much that I’m ready to beg for it. Caleb and Nolan are like a drug, and I’m addicted, and I don’t care. I want more.

“Please,” I moan, grinding my ass against Nolan’s thick, fat cock. “Please make me come.”

“Such a pretty little plea,” Caleb murmurs, his fingers once again grazing the gusset of my panties. “I’m almost tempted to give you exactly what you need. But…”

Damn. “But what?”

His smile widens. “There is the matter of your punishment. Pick a number between one and five, Kiera.”

A brief pulse of disappointment flickers through me. Just five? I don’t know how hard Caleb will spank me, but I’m pretty sure I want more than five strokes on my bottom.

Nolan pulls his mouth off mine. His hands cup my breasts. He squeezes them, hard, and I groan and arch into him, wordlessly asking for more. “Five,” I gasp, realizing I haven’t answered Caleb’s question.

He laughs, low and soft. “You want to edge five times? That’s a much higher number than I thought you’d pick.”

Wait, what? I bolt up. “I thought you meant to spank me.” Belatedly, I realize he’d never specified why he wanted me to pick a number.

Argh. I’ve totally screwed myself.

Caleb grins wickedly. “Here are the rules, Kiera. You warn me when you get close, and I’ll back off until you’re ready.” His eyes narrow. “You don’t have permission to come. Is that clear?”

Nolan pinches my nipple through my dress, and I yelp, more from surprise than pain. Shivers wrack my body. I meet Caleb’s hard, dominant, gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

“Very nice.” He pushes the edge of my panties aside, and his fingers shove into me, hard and fast and deep.

Nolan’s mouth swallows my gasp. He unzips my top and undoes my bra, and he groans at the sight of my bared breasts. “So fucking gorgeous.”

His powerful hands squeeze my breasts, and he rolls my throbbing, aching nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Caleb thrusts his fingers in and out of my pussy, his thumb pressing unerringly on my clit, and I squirm, intense need surging through me.

“That’s right,” Nolan whispers, his hot breath tickling my ear. “I want to hear you moan against my lips, Kiera. I want to feel you writhe on my lap. You want to come so badly, don’t you? Draped over our laps, your dress bunched up at the waist, uncaring whether the driver can see you or not.”

A flush stains my cheeks. I glance up at the partition and realize Nolan’s just teasing me. The glass is tinted. Even if the driver were paying attention to us instead of to the road, he wouldn’t be able to see anything.

Caleb spanks my thigh. “Should you be paying attention to the driver?”

“No, Sir.”

“Very good. What should you be paying attention to, Kiera?”

“To you, Sir.”

“That’s right,” he growls. He adds another finger to my pussy, and I feel my muscles stretch around him, and I can’t get enough. My need grows, flares into an inferno. “I’m going to come,” I gasp. “Please…”

He stops immediately. I want to weep. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Take a deep breath. You’re doing really well, sweetness.” His voice is soothing. Gentle. He traces small circles over my skin with his fingertips.

Nolan’s touch gentles too, and his lips meet mine in a soft kiss.

“Exhale,” he says. “Breathe. Relax. You’ve got this, Kiera.

You can do this.” He kisses my cheek, the side of my jaw, the nape of my neck, and then sucks my earlobe between my teeth.

“You know your safe word,” he murmurs. “Use it if you need.”

I take a deep, shuddering breath as the intensity recedes. One down, four to go. I wrap my arms around Nolan, shamelessly clinging to his big, broad chest. “Okay,” I tell Caleb. “I’m good to go again, you sadist.”

He chuckles. “You think this is sadistic?” He shakes his head. “Ah, Kiera. You have so much to learn about me.” He swipes his finger through my aching slit. “Let’s do this.”

Over and over, Caleb brings me to the edge. Over and over, Nolan teases my nipples, squeezes my breasts, kisses me senseless. By the time I’ve backed away from the edge of my orgasm five times, I’m a sobbing, sweat-soaked, quivering mess.

“Good girl.” Caleb kisses my naked thighs. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes.”

His fingers stroke me, sure and steady. This time, when the intensity builds, I don’t hold back. I surrender to the ratcheting pressure. I explode for them, shaking, writhing, moaning as I come apart.

When I finally collect my thoughts, I sit up, refasten my bra, and adjust my dress. “Wow,” I say softly. I glance at Caleb and Nolan, and they’re both sporting massive erections. “I should take care of that.”

Nolan winks at me. “No time. We’re almost at the Lincoln Tunnel.” His eyes rest on me. “After the show, we can either head back home, or we can spend the night in Manhattan.”

I swapped shifts with Kellie; I don’t have to be back home until Wednesday. “Would spending the night in Manhattan involve sex?”

“You better believe it.”

“Then yes,” I say promptly. “Let’s do that.”