My stomach bottoms out. Okay, so I’mnotimagining it.
“He’s through there,” Blake says, sounding as confused as I feel. He points towards the lounge.
From the corner of my eye, I can see that Calvin is smirking. Gabe is standing just behind him, his face a picture of innocence. “What the fuck have you done?” I demand. I mightwantArchie to be here, but I know he really shouldn’t be. He works for me, for crying out loud.
Calvin shrugs, which makes my blood boil.
“You set this up, didn’t you?” I ask, pointing at Gabe. Calvin said he was the one who invited Blake.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Gabe says. “I invited a gorgeous model and told him he could bring his brothers, that’s all.”
Brothers? There are more than two of them. Not that it matters. As pretty as Blake is, he’s not Archie. Which isn’t something I should be thinking about.
“Bastards, the pair of you.”
I push past them, needing to find Archie to send him home before I do something stupid.
He’s standing in the lounge with yet another lookalike. Archie meets my open-mouthed stare, hands his brother his cup of water, and takes his T-shirt off. He looked fucking gorgeous before, but now my mouth is watering as I gaze at him, unable to think straight. He’s wearing a black leather chest harness, which enhances the natural beauty of his body. I want to stride over to him, curl my fingers into one of the rings on the harness, tug him to me, and kiss the hell out of him. I remind myself he’s my PA and that he shouldn’t even be here.
I force myself to look at the man beside him. Aside from the fact that this brother isn't wearing glasses or a harness—that I can see—they're identical in every way. It's harder to tell Archie and this brother apart than Blake. He’s styled his hair differently and has warm, tanned skin. Two things are clear: Archie and his brothers are triplets, and my arsehole best friends conspired to get them all here. I should throttle them or throw them off. My friends, not Archie and his brothers. Although I should probably ask them to leave so I'm not tempted to drag Archie into one of the playrooms and order him to his knees.
They’re both looking at me. Archie’s brother looks uncertain, but Archie’s stare dares me to come closer. I don’t trust myself. I’ve spent a week fantasising about him, and now he’s here, at my party, in a harness. I dip my gaze to his wristband. Blue. Oh, holy fuck. I mean, deep down I knew he had submissive tendencies. He calls me ‘sir’ multiple times a day. But seeing it on display like that does unspeakable things to my insides. Yellow. My cock stirs, and I’m glad I’m wearing a kilt, not tight trousers like the majority of the men here tonight.
Well, I can either stand here gawping, walk away, or go over. I choose the most stupid option out of my choices. I go over to them.
“What are you doing here?”
Archie doesn’t flinch. “I was invited to a kink party.”
“At my house?”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“You work for me.”
“We’re out of hours.”
I roll my shoulders back. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Are you throwing me out, sir?”
A small gasp escapes my lips. Damn him. He looks down at my wrist, no doubt seeing that I also have two coloured loops on my band. Mine are red and yellow. In theory, that makes us a match. In reality, doing anything with my PA would be so fucking inappropriate it isn’t funny.
But of course I'm getting ahead of myself.
“There are lots of experienced Doms here tonight,” I tell him. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to play with.”
His expression waivers, and his head moves as though he’s going to nod in agreement. Then his brother nudges him, and Archie’s expression becomes more resolved. He takes a breath, puffing himself up a little. I imagine he’s gathering up some courage.
“I want to play withyou.” His words would have sounded more determined if his voice hadn’t quivered over them. He continues to stare at me, but I can see fear battling with desire in his eyes.
“Me?”
“Yes. You’re gorgeous, sir. I’ve wanted to get down on my knees for you since the moment we met.”
Damn, if those words don’t go straight to my cock. I look pointedly at his band again. “You’re not wearing the right colour for that.”
He chuckles. “I can fix that. If you want me to, sir?”
