Drama

LILY
Standing in the private elevator on my way to the penthouse apartment of the most expensive building in Manhattan, I can’t stop my legs from shaking. The interior is gold and glass and bigger than Jen’s living room. My knuckles turn white around the handle of my overnight bag.
What the hell am I going to talk about with the three richest men in the city? Which of the five boroughs has the best slices of pizza in the city? What series I’m binging on Netflix this week? There’s no way we have anything in common. Well, I guess there’s one thing—I’m currently working in the mail room of the Grayson News building, and they’re about to buy the company.
The elevator doors open to Xander leaning against the wall, arms folded across his broad chest. How the hell does this man make low-slung faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt look hotter than a bespoke suit?
“Hey there, shorty.” He steps fo

Holy fucknuggets. He’s gotta be screwing with me. “At the same time?” I croak.
“Yes, at the same time. Although to the outside world, it will appear like you’re only dating one ofus.”
Xander shoots a glare at West before directing his attention to me. “Well, it’s more than dating.”
I frown. “More than dating?”
West nods. “We’d like you to move in here with us for three months.”
Now I know he’s messing with me. A laugh bubbles from my lips, but none of them are laughing or even smiling, so I humor them. “Three months? And then what happens after? I just go on my merry way and we pretend we’re friends? Or we never speak again? How does that part work?”
Xander sighs. “Three months is just the starting point. To see if this thing between us works. If it does, then …”
I tilt my head. “Then?”
Xander shrugs. “Then you stay here.”
I open my mouth to speak but no words come out, so I merely sit and gape at the three of them.
“I told you we should have taken this slower and drawn up a contract,” West grumbles.
I almost fall off my stool. “A contract?”
West nods. “We told you we’ve done this before, Lily. Many times. But we usually don’t spring this on someone the second time we meet. And we usually draw up a contract explaining all the rules.”
This is sounding freakier by the second. “The rules?”
“He’s making it sound weirder than it is,” Xander says, shooting West another warning glare.
My mind races with questions, all of them begging to be asked first. “So, what happened to all of these other women you tried this with?”
West glares at me, his jaw ticking. “They didn’t work out, obviously.”
I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “Three super-hot billionaire dudes ask a woman to live with them and ‘date’”—I actually use air quotes for that word and hate myself for it—“them, and it never works out. What the hell is wrong with you all?”
Zeke snorts into his wine, and that makes me smile.
Xander arches one eyebrow. “You think we’re super hot?”
I roll my eyes and fix Xander with the hardest glare I can muster. “Oh, come on. You own mirrors. Like you don’t already know that.”
West lets out a deep sigh and draws our attention back to him. “Maybe it wasn’t us. Perhaps there was something wrong with them.”
Of course. Always the women’s fault, right. Misogynistic assholes. “Ah, I see now.” With a nod, I slide off my stool.
“You see what?” Xander asks.
“You just use them up for three months and then toss them out, is that it? I mean are these poor women supposed to satisfy all of your needs every single day and night? It must be exhausting.” Despite my argument, what they’re asking has my panties wet and I haven’t even been touched. But that’s just the fantasy of it all, right? “I bet the reality of dating you three means constant blowjobs with minimal return.”
“Actually, Xander and West give incredible blow jobs, so that wouldn’t fall entirely on you,” Zeke replies coolly, and I realize I said that last part out loud.
But wait. What? Now this just got a whole lot more interesting. Studying the three of them, I wait for someone to say that I’m being punked, but they’re all wearing dead-serious expressions. I must admit, they are the finest looking men I’ve ever seen, and the thought of them together as well as with me—I have to clench my fists to keep from fanning my face. The visual alone is enough to make a girl come in her panties. But what on earth do they see in me?
Xander licks his lips. “And it’s less like minimal return”—he glances between his two friends—“and more like three times your investment back.”
“I’d say more,” West adds, and his eyes twinkle with deviousness. “The number of times we make a return has never been an issue.”
I swallow the breath that sticks in my throat. Triple the orgasms. My pussy clenches, letting me know she approves, and I squeeze my thighs together to silence her. “So, you’re all together.” I wave my hand in the air. “Like with each other too?”
Xander grins. “Yeah.”
“So, who’s a top and who’s a bottom? Or do you all switch?”
West cracks a smile, but it’s Xander who replies. “Zeke and West are tops. I’m a bottom.”
I nod, fascinated by their dynamic. I had no freaking clue they were together like that, but I guess what they do in private is their business. And maybe mine now too? “I’m a bottom by the way. Just FYI.”
For some reason that makes Xander and West laugh, and even Zeke shows a trace of amusement.
“What? Some women top.”
At this point, West slides off his stool and walks around the island. He stands so close to me that I can smell his fresh masculine scent, and it makes the space between my legs ache with need.
“If you agree to this, Lily, there’s not a single scenario where it won’t be you getting fucked by one of us. We know you’re a bottom, princess.”
I swallow hard. Holy cow, I so want to be fucked by all three of them. I mean not all at the same time—or maybe at the same time? Shaking my head to clear it, I wonder what the hell is wrong with me. I breathe in West’s scent, and it must scramble my senses because I’m actually considering this. “H-how long do I have to make a decision?”
He leans closer, his lips dusting over my hair. I think he’s going to kiss me, but he reaches behind me and grabs my glass from the counter. “Take a few days.”
Licking my lips, I nod.
His cloudy gray eyes narrow on my face. “We’re discreet about our lifestyle, Lily. Whether you agree to this or not, we ask that you keep this to yourself.”
“Of course,” I assure him. What I don’t tell him is that keeping secrets is my thing. That I have so many secrets of my own, I sometimes forget what the truth is supposed to be.

LILY
My head throbbing, I blink my eyes open. Sunlight streams through the gap in the curtains in Jen’s bedroom and blinds me. She sent me a text at 3:00 a.m. to tell me she was spending the night at Trey’s hotel suite, so I slept in her bed instead of the sofa. My back already thanks me for it as I stretch out beneath the duvet.
My phone pings, signaling a text. I roll onto my side and grab it from my nightstand.
Hey shorty. Be ready at seven. No need to dress fancy, we ,re eating in. Bring an overnight bag too. But don ,t worry, we have a guest room. Your virtue will be safe with us. Xander x
I try to swallow, but my mouth is too dry. Xander? How did he even get my number? Did I give it to him? A vague memory of drawing it on his arm with my black eyeliner in the car returns. God, I made such a fool of myself. I invited him in. I kissed him.
But oh, what a kiss. Butterflies swirl in my

LILY
Standing in the private elevator on my way to the penthouse apartment of the most expensive building in Manhattan, I can’t stop my legs from shaking. The interior is gold and glass and bigger than Jen’s living room. My knuckles turn white around the handle of my overnight bag.
What the hell am I going to talk about with the three richest men in the city? Which of the five boroughs has the best slices of pizza in the city? What series I’m binging on Netflix this week? There’s no way we have anything in common. Well, I guess there’s one thing—I’m currently working in the mail room of the Grayson News building, and they’re about to buy the company.
The elevator doors open to Xander leaning against the wall, arms folded across his broad chest. How the hell does this man make low-slung faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt look hotter than a bespoke suit?
“Hey there, shorty.” He steps forward, his hand held out for my bag. I reluctantly release it and take in my surroundings. The floor

Chapter 11-1