“Oh,” I say, my shoulders sagging. Well, fudge. “My name is Starling Williams, and I wanted to surprise Tony. I thought he would be here alone.”
“How well do you know our nephew?”
“A few months now. We’ve had coffee, and I wanted to take it to the next level.”
Kill me now. Make it quick. My cheeks are blood red. I can’t even seduce a guy without involving his uncles. Why is that the typical story of my life?
“And you didn’t know Tony is gay?”
Wait, what?
I bite my lip and frown so heavily that I bend my brain.
“You don’t mean gay as in happy, do you? Like, Tony is just a very happy guy.”
“No, principessa, not at all.”
Tony is gay?
Oh my god.
Tony is gay.
That’s why he hasn’t kissed me yet. Oh, Starling, this really takes the fruitcake right out of Christmas. How could I not have seen that? But then again, for me, it makes perfect sense. Only I would choose a gay man to un-virgin me while dressed in slutty Santa garb.
But no, Tony being gay right now is the very least of my problems. I just threw myself at three strangers—more precisely, Tony’s uncles, whose collective super hotness is just a cover for the dominance and dangerous power that lies beneath them.
“Umm….” I should apologize and leave. Yes, that’s what I need to do.
“Okay, so I’m terribly sorry for all that. I was wearing a blindfold, and I thought you were Tony. Then I thought myimagination was running away with me and I invented three Tonys. Honestly, my brain breeds chaos, so again, my apologies. I should take my leave before this gets any more awkward,” I say, pointing toward their door.
How much more awkward can it get than mistaking them for Tony, who happens to be gay? Oh, this is the quintessential hold-my-eggnog situation because I also had a very intense orgasm on their fingers. Yes, I did.
But even as I cringe my way to the door, my brain is determined to brew more ways to make this even more awkward for all of us.
I take two steps before I whirl around. What in the nutcracker am I doing? And it’s not to collect my stocking of sex goods or to get my coat. No, siree.
“Look, I’m getting engaged tomorrow.” The words spill from my mouth. “It’s an arranged thing, so I’m not furiously in love with my future fiancée, nor is he with me. Also, we’re not ridiculously attracted to each other either. Umm, so ‘ridiculously’ may imply we have some attraction; just not a heck of a lot, but that’s not true. We have zero attraction. Nothing. Nil. Long story short, I don’t want to marry still a virgin, so if you have some free time right now and you’re not particularly fussy, would you… do you think you could…”
New low unlocked. I just asked three excessively gorgeous men to sleep with me. Desperate times call for three gorgeous men to take my virginity, blow my mind so that it’s imprinted in my soul forever, and then I’ll be able to marry Jake, and that’s that.
Well, there’s also the chance they could tell me, sorry, but no, we don’t do V-card charity work on Christmas Eve.
The silence is so thick, I want to turn around and flee. I can’t help but notice the looks they exchange, as if they’re having a full-on, very serious silent conversation about me.
I should save myself and leave before they say no. Oh my gosh, what if they’re married or engaged, or I’m just not their type, and not even a brown bag over my head will work?
What have I done?
Chapter Seven
Starling
I watch in stunned silence, a hot blush reddening my cheeks as Marco picks up my stocking—the one I filled with all the toys I bought from the Sex Saloon.
Well, they weren’t supposed to see it. But suddenly, every toy I bought transforms from an inanimate object into something dark and delicious, extraordinary and erotic. The pulse in my pussy quadruples as Marco empties the contents of my stocking onto a table.
Embarrassed and flustered, I fiddle with my hands as all three of them inspect the items on my naughty list.
