“I agree,” he goes on.
“But …” Fuck! This is worse than I thought.
“But what?” he demands.
I continue to pace. My mind trying to piece together what I know and what I saw.
“Titan, but what?” He grips my shoulders and yanks me to a stop.
My wide eyes search his. “We were wrong.”
EMILEE
“What do youthink they’re talking about?” I ask, biting on my nails as I stare at the door. Whatever was on that phone, Titan did not like.
“Who cares?” Jasmine answers, gawking at Avery and Tristan. They’ve vacated the couch and now stand over by the floor-to-ceiling windows talking to Luca. Avery stands with his arms crossed over his chest while Tristan leans his shoulder onto the window with his hands in the front pockets of his black slacks. The fabric pulling across his bubble ass. Even I can’t deny that they are both hot. Chiseled jawlines. Blue eyes and dark hair. They could almost pass as twins. But I heard Titan talking about them earlier. I know that Avery is the oldest, and he has facial hair where Tristan is clean shaven.
They wear expensive suits and Rolex watches. They look like pretty boys. They remind me of the boys in college who drove Teslas and spent Daddy’s money on vacations to the Hamptons and weekends in Paris. But something tells me that’s not what they do or how they make their income. They may be nice to look at, but they have this air about them that screams dangerous.
Maybe mafia like Luca? That could be the connection, but Bones was the one who said he knew them.
I can’t figure it out.
Jasmine is sitting beside me drooling thinking about being the center of a Decker sandwich. And even Haven looks a little interested. “Calm down, bitches. You’re panting like you’re in heat.”
“What? I can look.” Haven shrugs.
“I can fucking play. I’m single,” Jasmine states.
“What do you think they do for a living?” I ask softly.
“I imagine they both run a sex club. And I’m their newest toy.” Jasmine all but moans her answer.
I roll my eyes.
“I think they work on Wall Street. If not, definitely finance,” Haven answers.
I snort.
“No fucking way,” Jasmine protests. “Those two gorgeous faces are not wasted by sitting behind a desk on the phone all day. No. They work with their hands.”
“Yeah, but what do they do with them?” I add.
“Smear chocolate all over me,” Jasmine replies.
Haven and I burst out laughing. God, the girl really is a sex addict, and she needs rehab.
My eyes go to Nite. He stands beside them as well. He never says a word, but Tristan is talking to him. Nite just nods and shakes his head. It’s like Tristan knows he’s a mute and is only asking questions that require a yes or no answer.
A phone rings and Tristan pulls his out of his pocket. Straightening his stance, he holds up a finger to the guys and walks away from the window to take the call. “Hey, babe?” he answers, before walking into a bedroom off the living room.
“They’re both probably taken.” Jasmine throws her hands up, leaning back into the couch.
“Maybe his girl is into lesbian love,” Haven suggests, and I snicker. “I mean, we all know you are.”
“Bitch,” Jasmine teases before throwing a pillow from the couch into her face. “We should have never told you.”
Haven is laughing. “I’m just jealous I haven’t received that kind of attention from you.” She throws it back in Jasmine’s face, and Jasmine tosses it to the floor.
