Chapter 4

Four

Stella

I spin around and my eyes swing high to meet a set of beautiful brown irises rimmed with black thick lashes. The man behind them oozes mystery and raw energy. Like he could command the skies and oceans with the tiniest gesture of his fingers.

The ones to his right and left stand shoulder to shoulder with their friend. All three stare down at me with an odd expression of sorrow written all over their faces. Not for themselves, but for me. A complete stranger. Like it actually pains them to see a woman cry.

All three have neatly combed hair, tuxedos and wear a cloak of darkness around them that has my skin pebbling with goosebumps.

My brain screams caution. But my inner woman notices other details that have my curiosity piqued.

The man with the light blue eyes wears a thick scar from the left side of his lip through to the middle of his bottom lip. Violence has touched him and by the scars on his knuckles, he's touched violence right back.

He's not the only one. The scars on the middle one's knuckles stand out against his deeply tanned skin. My senses tell me he's the leader of the trio. All those white puckered scars looked aged and nearly identical to his two other friends' scars.

Are they street thugs? Boxers? MMA cage fighters? Mafia kingpins? Who the hell knows. Question is, why do I suddenly want to know?

That leaves one other man. The one on my far left. Black ink reaches out from beneath the cuff of his shirt and tuxedo jacket. He's polished yet rough around the edges. The tall, heavily muscular man silently takes in my shoes, before the heat of his gaze slowly caresses a path up the slope of my calves. But he doesn't stop when he gets to the hem of my cocktail dress either. His warm, golden gaze that reminds me of amber held up to the sunlight runs along the delicate lines of my tattoo. He seems to like the way the cherry blossoms drape over my bare shoulder and the slope of my breasts before dropping beneath the top border of my dress.

Electricity skates over my senses. It is like ice and fire rotating over every inch of my exposed skin. I can't describe it any other way.

I pass my tongue over the rim of my bottom lip, catching the middle one's dark gaze.

"Don't be scared, little flower. We mean you no harm."

His voice is thick honey over sun-warmed wood. Soothing and sweet enough to drop my defenses.

"I'm not scared, just a little startled. I didn't realize I wasn't alone," I lie. I'm scared to the core no matter how calming they want to come off.

My heart doesn't understand words as much as it reads body language. It lurches and pauses. Lurches and pauses, causing me to tremble from head to foot from how they lean in dangerously close.

All this takes place in a blink. Detective Lafleur taught me how to sum people up with one look and put up boundaries when people got too close. And let me say, these three are so damn big, or this elevator is so small, that there's no other space except my personal space.

So far I'm not having any luck with putting walls up. Not when men like these smell so damn good.

I step back but I only get as far as the elevator doors allow. They keep their hands exposed like they want me to know they have nothing to hide. I see no visible weapons. But that doesn't mean they aren't dangerous. Hello, pay attention to the scars. And those are just the ones I can see.

They are dressed like they make a living with their looks and not by offing people. But I've been wrong before.

"I'm sorry. I must look like a mess." I wipe at the tears still rolling down my cheek, wishing I had opted out of my sister's big idea of getting me laid.

For a second, the wave of embarrassment that hits screams for me to stab the button to open the elevator doors and escape back into Club Sin.

But why? Because of one fucking twisted boyfriend is why. I'm broken. Ugly. Unwanted.

"Nothing is further from the truth. I've never seen a more beautiful woman."

That is blue eyes. I get so caught up in the way his scarred mouth moves that I don't realize he steps in until the warm pad of his finger drifts across my cheek.

I shudder in a shallow breath. He catches a fat tear on the end of his finger. "Your tears are ones of pain. Let us change that for you, beautiful flower." His lips brush over my heated cheek before coming over mine for a soft kiss. Our breath mingles.

This man knows what he likes and I can't find a single reason why I should push him away.

Clutching my evening bag in one hand, I settle the other over his chest. Our gazes hold. Our bodies meld together. And then the softness of our connection deepens. A solid arm made of pure granite wraps around me protectively. He takes my face in his other roughened palm.

"Take a deep breath, beautiful."

I sense a sin against my better judgment about to happen.

And yet, my heart, no, my whole body wants to fall into every word he utters. His voice is husky and down right sinful enough to drop my panties right here in the elevator.

I do as he gruffly commands, but I don't get to keep any of the air because the sexy stranger steals my breath away with the fierceness with which he claims my mouth. I don't get a chance to say no or stop this before it lands me in trouble. This man is like a steamroller and I kind of like how he takes what he wants when it feels this good. I can psychoanalyze the hell out of that some other time. Right now, his mouth feels like what I need after my disastrous night.

His friend comes in on my left and he catches another tear from my other cheek like they are some kind of currency that buys them a kiss. He holds it up and I look on as he lifts it to his lips and licks it from the tip.

That shouldn't be sexy, but the way his mouth moves draws my eye.

"I need to be going," I hear myself say. It's the rule follower in me talking. The one that doesn't want to step out of line because when I do, I get hurt.

Deep groans come from the two at my sides. "Stay with us. Just for tonight," says the one with blue eyes and tastes like a one-night stand is nothing to be ashamed of.

He takes my hand and winds my arms around his neck. Hands settle over my hips on the other side.

Amber eyes.

God, he smells like a wild night of lust.

My attention roams to the one in the middle. His jawline is clean-shaven. Angular. Perfect for kissing and running my tongue over.

He's control and chaos all in one. I sense the shift in energy when he steps in close and eliminates the last bit of unfilled personal space between us. He towers over me and with him he brings an aura of power only a sinner carries.

"I need to get home." My lips move with more nonsense. Why, I have not a freaking clue. It's scary how easy and good it feels to let these men touch me so freely. Shouldn't I slap their hands away? Isn't that the rational, safe thing to do?

But my body betrays me and the rush of adrenaline spiking my blood causes my nipples to harden into tight peaks. And all three notice.

Past trauma makes me want to throw my arms over my chest and hide my arousal.

No one could want someone as dirty as you.

Heat creeps into my face. For a second I feel a wave of embarrassment at the blush hitting my cheeks.

Fingers curl around the tip of my chin and my face lifts. "Say yes." The one in the middle lowers his lips to mine. His kiss is soft, promising and utterly tender to the point I forget to breathe.

When my lungs work again, it's his scent that fills them.

"Who hurt you, beautiful flower?"

The one with amber eyes leans in and presses kisses to the fallen cherry blossoms over my left shoulder as his friend quietly waits for an answer to his question.

I look to my right. Blue eyes meet mine. He wants to know, too.

I give a slight shake of my head and hold my clutch to me like a shield. "No one that matters to me anymore."

All three give a rough exhale. The one in the middle says, "The quiver I hear in your voice and the fear sparkling in your pretty eyes says otherwise."

I draw my gaze up and then a little higher to meet his. He stands a good half a foot higher so I have to raise my chin for us to make eye contact. "Do you always want to play the saving knight to wounded women you've only just met?" I ask, not expecting a genuine answer.

His lips peel back to show a captivating smile that reveals a small peek at the subdued aura of lethal power tucked out of sight under the polished veneer all three show to the world.

"Only for you. No one else matters right now."

"Yeah, right." I drop my gaze, but he's not having it. His fingers find the edge of my chin. He lifts and I don't fight his silent request.

"Never doubt my words. Ever," he whispers in a dark tone that matches the depth of his deep brown eyes.

Calluses brush over skin. His hands slide up my thighs and his lips find the pulse point just below my ear. My head falls back, but instead of thudding against the metal door of the elevator, there's a hand there to cushion me from getting hurt.

Blue eyes meet mine. A corner of his lip tilts up. "You're safe with us," he says softly. "Let us help mend your wounds, for a night at least. Trust us with this one small task and we will erase some of the hell that lives in those beautiful eyes."

His mouth finds the soft slope of my shoulder. His tongue flicks out, grazing my skin.

I gasp. Electrical shocks run through my body. I don't know their names. They are the wrong men. I belong to three others tonight. But…

Burning waves of arousal follow closely behind the burn of energy in my veins. I reach up and run my fingers through thick hair. My eyes dip closed for just a second.

"I don't have a room. I was on my way out."

"Emilio," the one in the middle murmurs against the skin of my neck. I hold him to me unwilling to lose the feel of his lips on my skin.

The one with amber eyes steps back and pulls out a phone. It looks like he's texting someone. He looks at me and then to his friend. "The change is made. I secured room one hundred and five."

His eyes land on me. "It's secure, private and it will only be us, beautiful. Trust us this one night and we will make it worth your while. Please."

Emilio pockets his phone. I have zero resistance in me when he gently takes me from his friends and lifts me into his arms. My dress easily shimmies up my thighs with the help of his hands under the material. Strong fingers grip the globes of my ass cheeks and I get an animalistic growl of appreciation.

"Bare?"

He's talking about my supposed lack of panties. "Thong," I answer heavily.

The thick length of his arousal presses against the wet material of my panties. I would be embarrassed by how wet I am if I wasn't so damn turned on and in need of every dark promise the three silently offer.

"I should say no. The three of you are old enough to be my daddies." The words are out of my mouth before I can school my tongue. I don't usually just say what is on my mind, but these three have lowered my natural defenses.

The energy shifts. The walls feel like they are closing in. The heat cranks up and the way all three consider me says they like the idea of being my daddies.

Opps. I've written enough romance to know a kink when I see it. What I don't expect is how much I think I like it.

I take a shaky breath and open my mouth, but nothing comes out. They are older than me and wear the years with elegance. No less than twenty years separate us and before right this very second I thought age gaps wasn't something I liked.

Now I want to know everything they can do to my body right this second.

Heat flows through my body, stopping at each point of pleasure before moving on. I draw in a shallow breath and let it out slowly.

I look between all three of my one-night stands and know for the next few hours I'll be safe in their arms and in their bed.

I mold myself against Emilio's front, feeling every inch of his hard body with mine. I drop my clutch where Emilio and I connect before reaching for the other two.

Our palms glide together, rough in some places and soft in others. Energy exchanges.

The air in the elevator pulsates with a different kind of heat. One I'm dying to experience. God help me, but I'm beyond tired of feeling lost and alone and if I could only have one night of feeling special in the arms of these men, the cold in my heart may never return.

Filthy pussy no one will want to fuck.

I shove William's voice from my head.

I take a shaky breath and open my mouth. "I'm yours for the evening. Be gentle with my heart, but leave my body knowing you three claimed it by the time the sun rises in the morning." Shocks of uncertainty run through me, but I'm not backing down.

The hunger in my strangers' eyes leaves me breathless.