Then I got my manicure. I assumed the guys would go off and do their deliveries while I had my appointment, but they all refused to leave me. Instead, they squashed into the salon’s boyfriend chairs and watched intently. I think the salon workers were slightly alarmed. Since Cameron insisted on paying for mynails—for some reason, he’s convinced it was his fault my last set got ruined—I told him to pick what I should get done. After a lot of protests, he eventually picked the prettiest shade of ballet-slipper pink. “Looks like something you’d wear,” he muttered, then added to the technician, “put some of those wee gems on too.”
I examine my hands. The pink jewels sparkle under the bathroom lights. At least my nails are pretty. My head, not so much.
I’m embarrassed at how I reacted in the changing rooms. I need to be tougher than this. I go back to London in eight days, and when I do, there’ll be far more than one teenage girl I need to handle.
The men hadn’t seemed to care that I got upset. They’d just wanted to comfort me. I sigh, turning under the hot spray of the shower.
And then there was the dress.It’s somuch.Lulu would have laughed if I picked it out in front of her. But the men didn’t think it was ridiculous. When I tried it on, they’d all looked at me like…
There’s a knock at the bathroom door. “Come in,” I call, and Alec steps inside. I can’t see his face through the condensation on the cubicle walls.
“May I?” he asks over the rush of the shower.
“Of course.”
He removes his clothes quickly and steps inside the steamy cubicle. Water streams down his muscled body, running in rivulets down his hard chest and thick thighs. I squint up at him. His presence seems even bigger than usual. His jaw is tight as he reaches for my waist and drags me against him.
“How did the council call go?” I ask.
“They’re not seeing sense.” He runs his hand up and down the curve of my waist, his eyes tired. He looks stressed.
My heart twists. The more I learn about Alec, the more weight I realise he has on his shoulders. It’s amazing he hasn’t crumbled yet.
“I’m sorry,” I say. He just shakes his head and tilts his face into the spray, letting the water run down his back.
I put my hand on his jaw. “Hey.”
He opens his eyes to look at me. I press even closer, so my wet breasts press up against his hard chest. He makes a low noise as I pull him into a crushing kiss. I can feel the tension buzzing through him as we make out under the steaming water. He nips at my bottom lip, hard enough to hurt, then soothes me with an apologetic lick. When we finally gasp apart, his eyes are black. We both pant, looking at each other. His gaze is so intense it’s making my thoughts dry up.
He nuzzles my cheek, strokes some wet hair off my face. “Two days ago, you mentioned you wanted to try something,” he says quietly. “Do you remember what it was?”
“Nope,” I say. “You’d better remind me.” I think I have suggested everything from being tied to the bedposts to the installation of a sex swing in the orchard. What can I say? I’m an adventurous woman.
“You said,” he murmurs in my ear, “you want all of us. At the same time.”
My eyes widen as his hand dips between my arse cheeks.Oh.
I’ve never done anal. Some of the guys I’ve hooked up with have suggested it, but I do have some self-preservation instincts. I know it hurts if you don’t get warmed up properly.
But…I trust these men. They’d never do anything to hurt me. I don’t think they could.
Alec pinches one of my cheeks, making me jump. “You want to try, darling?”
“Y-yes,” I stammer. “Right now? Shall I call the others?”
He smiles and turns off the water. “No. It’ll be a surprise for them. Come on.” He helps me out of the shower and reaches for a fluffy towel on the warm rack. “Let’s get you ready.”
Once I’m dry, Alec carries me into his bedroom, shuts the door behind him, and lays me gently on his quilt. “Now,” he says, opening a drawer on his nightstand. “All fours.”
I kneel on the bed, and he takes a position behind me. I hear the click of a bottle cap, and then his slick fingers touch me. I go still as he begins to stroke me softly, wetting my sensitive folds. Up and down. Up and down. I wriggle.
“Um,” I say helpfully, after a minute of this. “That’s not my butt.”
“You need to relax first,” he murmurs.
“’Kay.” I go still as he gently slides his thick fingers between my lips, his calloused fingertips against the softest part of me. I twist slightly, wanting more pressure. “So I don’t find fingering that relaxing?” I try. “Sort of the opposite.”
“Shh.” He kisses my cheek. “I really need you to relax for me. Please, sweetheart.”
