Page 38 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

Then everything from last night crashes back in vivid, mortifying detail. The confrontation. The accusations, and my humiliating confession about research for a romance book. And then the sex. Oh God, the sex.

I slept with all three of them. At the same time. My face burns hot even though I'm alone in my bedroom.

Well, not entirely alone. I can hear movement in the other room, the sound of cabinet doors opening and closing, and the quiet murmur of male voices. They're still here!

I sit up slowly, my body aching in places that remind me exactly what happened last night.

The sheets are a tangled mess around me, and I'm completely naked. My clothes are scattered across the floor where they were discarded in the heat of the moment.

What the hell was I thinking?

I wasn't thinking. That's the problem. I let the situation spiral completely out of control, and now I'm dealing with the consequences.

Three wealthy, powerful men who all know each other, who apparently do business together, and I slept with all of them.

Not just individually over the course of three weeks, but together. In one night.

This isn't research anymore.

This is a disaster.

How will I ever face them?

My cheeks burn hot at the thought, and I grab my robe from the hook on the back of my bedroom door and wrap it tightly around myself, tying the belt with shaking fingers.

I take a quick shower even though what I really want to do is let the hot water continue to clean me, to wash away the embarrassment flooding my system.

I need to get them out of here.

I need to establish boundaries and make it clear that last night was a mistake that can't happen again.

But when I step out of my bedroom and into the main living area of the cottage, the scene that greets me stops me in confusion.

I tilt my head to the side, looking at the three men in my kitchen.

Russ is standing at the counter with his back to me, making coffee. He's wearing his jeans from last night but no shirt, and I can see the play of muscles across his shoulders and back as he moves.

He looks completely comfortable, like he's done this a hundred times before. Like he belongs in my space!

Alex sits at my small dining table, fully dressed in dark slacks and a button-down shirt that's only partially buttoned.

He's watching Russ with an expression of calm curiosity, not participating in the coffee-making but observing it with interest.

When I step into the room, his dark eyes shift to me immediately, and something flickers in his gaze that I can't quite read.

Nick stands near the window, looking out at the woods beyond my cottage.

He's also fully dressed in black pants and a dark gray shirt, his posture rigid and controlled.

As I watch, he turns slightly and his green eyes find me, studying my face with an intensity that makes my stomach tighten. Suddenly, the bravado I'd been building slips out of me.

The atmosphere in the cottage is strangely calm. I expected awkwardness, maybe regret, definitely some kind of tension. Instead, the three men move through my space with an ease that's deeply unsettling.

"Coffee?" Russ asks without turning around, like he already knows I'm standing there.

"I can make my own coffee," I say, my voice coming out sharper than I intended.

"Too late." He turns with a mug in his hand, that playful grin on his face. "Already made it. Black?"