Through all this awareness, making her realize her attachment to the men went far deeper than she’d been willing to admit, two hard truths remained. The reasons she had ended it with them hung over her like a dark cloud.
She might love them, but she wouldn’t live the life her parents had. She wouldn’t repeat their mistakes. She wanted a man—or two of them—who worked nine-to-five, came home, and left work at work.
As much as her body told her to stay right there with them, she needed to stick to her reasons for ending it. She was stronger than this, no matter that her heart wept for their return and her body begged for their touch. “You know why this can’t work. It’s hard now,” she admitted, looking at them. “Okay, yes, this has been hell for me. But I’ll get over this. I’ll move on, and so will the both of you.”
Smith’s lips pursed, and his voice became hard. “No, Kyra. I won’t get over this and move on.”
Brock frowned, then shook his head in frustration. “Let’s be clear. You have two concerns. The first, this relationship can’t work out between us because of how others will perceive us?”
Smith added, “As in, you can’t imagine how we will look in the public eye?”
“Well, yes.” She gave the bar a quick once-over. No one else would hear their conversation, but she lowered her voice anyway. “In public, how would I explain such a relationship?”
Kole snorted. “Kyra, didn’t we already talk about this?”
She didn’t need Kole coming down on her too. Just because she’d fallen for these men didn’t mean they could make this work. “You weren’t being questioned at the charity function. I was,” she snapped. “I know what it felt like having all those people watching me. Having no idea what to say. Do you think I want to live like that forever? Having to be careful and not tell people that I’m in love with two men.”
Awkward silence cut through the air.
Kole’s smirk was indication enough that Kyra had put her foot in her mouth. She looked at the table, not wanting to admit again or comment on the fact that she had declared her feelings for Brock and Smith.
Another finger tapped against her chin. Not so easily this time, her head turned in Brock’s direction. His full-blown smile only confirmed they’d all heard it. “All right,” he said in a soft voice. “Your next concern is our business hours. Correct?”
It seemed as if the bar had vanished away and only these two men and their strong presence remained around her. Here, with them, her sadness went away. “Yes, that’s the biggest issue. I don’t want to be that woman who never sees her boyfriend…or boyfriends.” Though, even now, she discovered her excuse was weak.
In truth, she wondered if being that woman was better than being nothing at all.
Brock leaned in, his piercing eyes drawing her into him, and his half smile seemed all too wise. “Other than those two concerns, you have no other objections to dating us?”
Before she could think up an answer or identify if she had any other hesitations, Brock slid his nose against her jawline. Inhaling deeply, he trailed along her neck, as if he had all the time in the world.
Heat raced through her veins, sending a spark of fire sizzling up her spine. Her gaze locked on Marley in front of her, before she spotted Bella, who smiled, and Kyra even noticed that Sadie watched with a sweet grin.
By the time Brock slid his nose up her neck, Kyra had become a trembling mess of arousal. She could hardly believe this was happening with all her friends present, but now she found herself so consumed in Brock she didn’t care.
She forced her eyes to remain open when Brock pressed his lips against her jaw. When his tongue laved a wicked path along her flesh, she failed miserably, and her eyes fluttered closed. An ache as needy as it was desperate erupted between her thighs, and wetness dampened her panties.
“Answer him,” Smith demanded, sliding a finger up the other side of her neck. “Are those your only objections?”
Kyra hesitated, her voice trapped in her throat.
Beneath the table, Smith brushed his other hand over her thigh and squeezed her knee, garnering her attention. Her breath whooshed from her lungs. “Yes, that’s all.”
“Good.” A slow smile spread across Smith’s face, his eyes positively glowing. “The other issue about how to handle a relationship between us we can deal with tomorrow.” He tangled his fingers into her hair and stole a kiss right out of her mouth.
It wasn’t gentle—it was hard and raw, showing every single part of his pain from their separation. He didn’t only kiss her, he branded his passion all over her lips. When he broke the kiss, he left Kyra breathless, and he added, “For now, we’ll clear up one immediately.”
Brock slammed his hand down on the table, and Kyra gasped, realizing he wasn’t nibbling her neck anymore. On the table and under his hand, she caught sight of a piece of paper. Then her gaze left the table as Brock kissed her swiftly.
The kiss was tender and more yearning than Smith’s, breaking her heart. They’d been hurting as much as she had. Brock travelled his mouth over to her ear and whispered, “Your excuses to avoid us have run out, kitten.”
Her breath seemed lost in her body and her only focus remained on the flood of heat between her thighs, as Smith said in her other ear, “Meet us at the castle tomorrow night at seven.”
The intensity in Smith’s features only increased when he stood, staring down at her. “Know this,” he said with a low, harsh voice. “If you don’t show up, I’ll come and get you.” He leaned down but didn’t come into her personal space. “Tomorrow is not a night to play games with us.”
Kyra’s mind raced to catch up with what had taken place in the last minutes. Stunned, she could only gape at Smith and Brock as they strode off, making their way through th