But there was more to her than just the physical. There was the pure innocence, her honesty and wholesomeness. There was the way she trusted us, giving her all while holding nothing back. Hell, we needed to teach her about that. You can’t keep giving like that, you’ll be left with nothing.
But that’s one of the things I love about Katie. Because her generosity’s boundless as far as we can tell. The female’s a well of goodness, pure and sweet, and she’d give the clothes off her back before slamming the door in someone’s face.
Shit.
What have we gotten ourselves into?
She’s too good for us.
She’s way too good for a weekend fling, that’s for sure.
So what now?
But first things first. When the elevator doors opened revealing Katie standing in the lobby, all thoughts flew from my mind. Because even buttoned up in her business suit, the girl looked like a pin-up model. Sassy, shy and sweet, all at once, those Double Ds barely hidden behind a loose blouse.
And Kane and Mason were definitely on the same wavelength, eyes transfixed, bodies hard already. Shit, what she does to us. It’s insane.
“Sweetheart, you look beautiful,” I growled.
Smiling, I pulled the girl close and gave her a hug. She smelled like roses. The scent would permanently linger in my nostrils after inhaling that sweetness.
“Hi Tyler,” came her soft murmur.
Fully clothed, the girl was shy. A blush broke out across her face the minute I released her, but Kane and Mason went in for their embraces then. None of us could keep our hands off her, but we were trying to act like gentlemen in public. No need to let on to the horndog thoughts racing through our heads.
“Hey Mason, hey Kane,” she breathed with a genuine smile. But Kane’s had to get extra.
“Katie, you’re gorgeous,” the man growled while pulling her close for a second time. Dude, this guy was plastering the girl against his hard body, those boobies smashed against his chest. What the hell? Hands off, asshole, we’re just getting started.
But Kane backed off then.
“Where are you taking us today?” he drawled.
The brunette smiled weakly, still trying to catch her breath.
“Well, um …,” she stammered, shaking her head. Got a problem, sweetheart? Can’t remember your own name after you’ve been with us? Welcome to the ways of alpha billionaires. But finally, she gave one last shake and was able to manage some words.
“Knox has a lovely old mansion called Wayland Manor. It’s a landmark in the city. It’s had a lot of functions over the years, but last year was granted historic status. I think you’ll like it.”
If we were with Katie, then I liked it already.
“Let’s get this show on the road then,” came my growl. And once outside, the doorman got us a cab. We squeezed into the yellow vehicle, our big frames practically exploding outwards like a clown car. A limo would have been better, but Katie had nixed the idea. I didn’t blame her. All that space would have been a prime opportunity for a repeat of last night, given her tempting curves.
Because usually, we’re assholes when it comes to women. But Katie’s different. She’s so sweet and innocent, like a flower waiting to be plucked. And yet there’s mystery too. Why was she a virgin? Why was she so shy sometimes? It was like day and night, light and dark, all mixed into one intriguing female. I wanted to know everything about her, what made her tick, what made her angry, what made her laugh. So uncharacteristically, I did something extraordinary. I asked her about herself.
“So what do you do for work? What gets you up in the mornings?”
Innocent enough, at least when you’re from New York City. In Manhattan, it’s all about the job. Before people even know your name, they want to know what company you’re at and what you do day-to-day. Connections and networking are the name of the game where I’m from.
But my question seemed to catch her off guard.
“Oh, um … I work for a women’s magazine. I’m a copy editor.”
Mason craned his head from the front seat.
“How is it?” he drawled, one eyebrow up.
She offered a small smile.
“Well, how do I say this? It’s a little boring, if I’m being honest. The advice we offer isn’t that helpful, and it’s pretty repetitive most times. I mean, how many articles on losing weight can you read in a month? Or tips on how to catch a guy?” she finished with a wry smile.
If we weren’t in awe of her before, I think that response really won our hearts. Most women lived or died by the advice in women’s magazines, it was practically the Bible to them.
“Sweetheart, surely you don’t believe that stuff. You don’t need help catching a guy or losing weight. You’ve caught our attention and look smoking hot in everything you put on.” I leaned closer and dropped my voice before uttering the next sentence, so the driver couldn’t overhear.