Chapter 8

Eight

Hazel

T hree pairs of shocked eyes narrow on me, and I realize my mistake. I’m used to the upcoming, now-canceled wedding monopolizing every aspect of my life, and I forget it’s not actually the sun around which the rest of the world orbits. None of these men have any reason to know about the shitstorm that just burned through my whole world.

“There’s no fiancé. No wedding. Not anymore. I caught him on his knees for our boss’s wife tonight during our rehearsal dinner. I livestreamed it as soon as I realized what was happening. Probably cost myself my job. Definitely ended things with Jonathan. Left the wedding planner downstairs cancelling everything. Joined Club Sin with my share of our honeymoon fund, and here I am.”

I pause for air, gulping a bit at how easy it is to condense the implosion of my life into a short monologue explanation. Hysteria bubbles up until I’m giggling and tearing up at the same time. How is this my reality? From celebrating my upcoming wedding to sitting at a table with strangers about to have a kinky one-night stand.

“Your fiancé was cheating on you? Seriously? Did you know about it before tonight? Suspect anything?” Gable, I think he said his name is, rapid-fires questions at me.

“Yes, he was. Yes, it looked serious when his head was under the skirt of her gown and he was slurping like a toddler with a bowl of noodles. No, I didn’t know about it, and no, I didn’t suspect anything. We both work a lot of hours, and we were waiting until after the wedding to move in together.”

The scary one, with the scar down one side of his face that should make him look intimidating and mean, glowers at me. But I’m not scared. Certainty in my gut says he’s furious on my behalf. More than Gable’s surprise and Ira’s sympathy, his outrage soothes the lingering hurt caused by Jonathan’s cheating.

“You didn’t love him,” Gable states with confidence.

“I did not,” I agree.

“Then why…” Ira’s thought drifts into silence, and I get it.

In today’s world, most people don’t need to marry for reasons other than love. Still, I hesitate to explain my reasoning. Each in their own way, these three are the sexiest men I’ve ever seen in real life. For whatever reason, they’re choosing me to talk to tonight. There aren’t tons of women alone here, but there are other options. There are at least a half dozen other girls they could have approached.

But they chose me. And if I tell them how desperately I want to be a wife and mother, there’s every chance they won’t look at me the same. The night will be over before it begins. There’s nothing less sexy for a one-night stand divulging she wants to be impregnated.

“Keep your secrets, beauty. It’s enough for us to know no man has a claim on you, no matter your choices tomorrow,” Gable assures me.

Ridge and Ira still look suspicious, as if they’re waiting for me to collapse into brokenhearted theatrics at any moment. Fun factarooni: I will not be. Yeah, I’ll probably wake up tomorrow and stress about the job situation. And worse, how much of a life setback it is to be staring down the barrel of thirty again without the prospect of a husband and kids on the horizon.

“I’ll still be single tomorrow. Seriously. There’s absolutely no way the wedding will be back on. The biggest reason Jonathan wanted to get married was to look ‘settled’ to company leadership. Now I know why he was so worried about not looking like a bachelor,” I grumble.

I might not want to admit how desperately loud my biological clock is ticking, but I don’t want them believing I’m some sad sack. For some reason, it feels super important that none of these men pity me. Whatever their deal is, however they came to be together, but not really together, all of it pales next to the certainty I want to belong to all three of them tonight.

“Okay, Tiger, sheath those claws. We believe you.” Ridge throws a wink my way that should look ridiculous. With the rakish way the scar on his face cuts through his eyebrow, it looks naughty, instead.

“Back to the task at hand… Ira, you should finish filling out your limits list if you want Ridge and me to play with you and Hazel tonight. If you just want us to watch, that’s fine too.” Gable seems to be the ringleader of the trio, despite Ridge’s more serious bossy overtones.

“If you’re sure you want to…” With the way Ira’s eyes eat up the other two, I’m confused why Gable would offer just to watch. Even more than before, the dynamic between them catches my attention and leaves me wondering.

“We’re sure,” Gable promises. When none of them elaborate any further, I resign myself to the mystery.

“Do we need to reserve a room?” I ask. “I’m not sure how this works. I never even knew this place existed before tonight.”

“The available rooms are lit up on the screen behind the bar. Do you want to pick the one that sounds the most interesting?” Ridge makes the offer, and to be honest, it surprises me. I figured he’d want the control of making the choice.

I hand my limits form over to him and twist in the chair to see the big-screen monitor mounted on the wall behind the rows of top-shelf liquor. A lot of the rooms are marked as in use, but a lot remain lit green. Some are for things that seem pretty normal, like sensory play and orgasm denial, as well as rooms that I have no clue about. Primal? Fire play? Shibari?

“What does ‘free use’ mean?” I wonder aloud.

“Means submissives in the room agree to allow their bodies to become the pleasure tools for their dominants. However we choose.” Gable’s growl is filled with want and need. His eyes move from me to Ira, stoking my arousal and awakening a longing to be used by these men. All of them.

“And I’m the submissive?” I want to be crystal clear about this part. I want orgasms, lots of them, but I’m not about to run the show.

“You are. We won’t ignore your limits, but you’ll be our toy for the night, and we’ll use your body for our pleasure and yours, however we see fit. Yours and Ira’s.” Gable adds the last bit while swinging his attention to the slightly smaller man with Clark Kent glasses and a bashful grin that makes me feel as if he and I share a secret.

“You think I’m a sub?” Ira asks. He doesn’t sound upset by the idea, but he also doesn’t agree automatically.

“To us, yes. To her, no.” Ridge’s tone makes it clear there’s no question in his mind about it. Tension relaxes from my shoulders. I don’t have anything against men who don’t run around playing the big dog alpha role. But after the way my stomach soured watching Jonathan be led around by his nose earlier tonight, I know I won’t enjoy myself if I have to pretend to boss around any of these guys.

I need to be played with the way a doll is. Moved and directed in exactly the way that will bring us all the most pleasure. I need to be taken out of my head and away from the panic-inducing thoughts of what the future will bring.

“So, is this the room you want, then, Hazel? You want a room where you and Ira become my brother and my play toys for the night?” Gable gives me the final decision, but we already know I’ll say yes. I’m nearly panting with anticipation. I nod.

“All access it is, then,” Ira confirms, giving Ridge and Gable a heavy look of expectancy.