Page 44 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

The seduction, the timing, the way she managed to get all three of us to her cottage on the same night⁠—

It wasn't an accident.

15

MARLA

The cottage feels too quiet after they leave.

I stand in the middle of my living room, staring at the rumpled couch cushions and the coffee mugs still sitting on the counter. Evidence of this morning's bizarre domesticity.

Then the phone calls happened and the teasing, sexy men of the night before turned into cold, dangerous men.

My hands shake as I pick up the mugs and carry them to the sink. I can still feel the phantom weight of their bodies against mine, the heat of skin on skin, and the way they moved together like they'd choreographed it. The memory makes my face burn hot even though I'm alone.

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 standing in my cottage trying to process the fact that I had sex with three men at once.

My body aches, and reminds me exactly what happened. There's a pleasant soreness between my thighs, a tenderness in my muscles. My neck is probably marked with bruises from their mouths. My skin still feels hypersensitive, like every nerve ending is remembering their touch.

Shame floods through me, hot and suffocating. What kind of woman does what I did? But then flashes of memory from last night swamp me and heat pools low in my belly. I may hate myself for last night, but do I really regret it?

Never in my life have I had such an experience, and never has my body felt so... relaxed and attuned at the same time.

True, I have a lot more to write about now, it was great for research for my book. But if I'm being honest with myself, it was about more than research.

But then the words from the phone call echo in my head. One of Nick's employees was beaten near to death. What kind of business involves people getting beaten? What kind of men carry themselves with that level of controlled violence?

I grab my phone and stare at Sharon's contact information for a full minute before I finally press call.

"Hey!" Sharon answers on the second ring, sounding cheerful. "What's up?"

"Can you come over?" My voice comes out strained. "I need to talk to you."

There's a pause. "Are you okay?"

"No. I mean, yes. I just... I need you to come over. Please."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

She arrives in fifteen, carrying takeout bags from the Thai place in town. When she steps inside and sees my face, her expression shifts from concern to alarm.

"What happened?" she asks, setting the bags on the counter. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Sit down," I say, gesturing to the couch. "We need to talk."

She sits slowly, her blue eyes wide and worried. "Marla, you're scaring me."

"I need you to tell me the truth about Russ, Alex, and Nick." My voice is steadier than I feel. "The real truth. Not the sanitized version you've been giving me."

Sharon's face goes pale. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." I lean forward, holding her gaze. "You work at the Ivory Wolf. You've been there for six months. You hear things. You see things. So tell me what you know about those three men."

She looks away, her hands twisting in her lap. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sharon."