I perk a brow. “That’s not a bad idea actually.”
Emery mumbles what I can only imagine is a curse under her breath, and then she’s gone.
A text message from Red appears on my phone.
I think I found her. Call me.
Maybe we won’t need a satellite, after all.
THE FIRST COURSE
EMERY
A curious patternI’ve noticed about the wealthy is the abundance of charity events they attend every calendar year. They’ll claim such events align with their philanthropic values, but I’m heavily convinced it’s because it gives them an excuse to get wasted on a Monday night.
I glare at Quin as he guides me through the crowds of elegant tables, Damon following closely behind. When Quin saiddinner, I expected something a bit more intimate, yet here we are, in the ballroom of The Plaza, surrounded by hundreds of champagne-chugging nepo babies and their snobby creators who look like they’ve got sticks up their asses.
I suppose we have that in common tonight.
As we approach our designated table, Damoncircles behind me and pulls out my chair. His lips curve into a smile against my ear as he whispers, so devilishly taunting, “I love knowing that you’re all stretched out for us, mami.”
I blink, forcing my physiological reactions to remain neutral as we sit among New York’s most elite.
“Shut up,” I grunt under my breath, gently taking a seat so as not to stimulate the movements of the toy too much.
There’s nothing classy about moaning at the dinner table.
Damon and Quin take their rightful seats on either side of me as the first course is served. The three other chairs opposite us are empty, and I’m grateful that we’re alone.
“That dress looks lovely on you,” Quin grins, taking a small sip of his whiskey. “Very…accessible.” He glances over at Damon. “Don’t you agree, Cavanaugh?”
Damon smirks, charcoal eyes smoldering as his palm finds my thigh, his fingers twirling the hem of the fringed cocktail dress. “Almost too accessible.”
My cheeks burn up. “Don’t you dare.”
Damon feigns ignorance. “Don’t we darewhat?”
My eyes narrow at him. “You know what.”
Quin chuckles and flicks his amused gaze to Damon. “Is she… Is she implying we haveulteriormotives?” My eyes widen as Quin’s warm hand finds my thigh, both men caressing my skin with delicate circles. “I can’t imagine what would make her think such horrid things.”
“It’s almost as if,” Damon’s cruel long fingers danceup my leg, “she thinks we’re wild animals that fuck wherever they damn well please.”
Quin’s nails dig into the apex of my thigh, and I swallow a gasp as he gently parts my knees. “Is that it?” He cocks his head. “Do you think we’re wild animals, darling?”
Fucking hell.
I know I could saycomet,and it would be all over. They’d immediately stop their teasing, and we could eat our dinners in peace. I know I could put an end to this in a second. But God, peace is so boring. So fucking dull. Their indecent ministrations creep closer to my sex, and I know their touch promises vibrant chaos.
“Oh…” Quin grins, licking his lips as I subtly sidle closer to the edge of the chair, my thighs parting for them. “Well, isn’t this interesting?”
Damon’s raspy voice floats in my ear. “It’s almost as ifyou’rethe wild animal, Emery. Not us.”
“Maybe we should stop,” Quin coos, my core pulsing as he glides his fingers up and down my inner thigh. “After all, we are at dinner.”
Damon’s touch reaches my slit, and he adds, “It would be terribly inappropriate to keep going.”
“The press is here…” Quin’s fingers join Damon’s as they tease the outside of my pussy, not exploring any deeper than the outskirts. And I need them to go deeper. So much fucking deeper.
