Wicked Ride

But the extravagance of the penthouse, and the designer clothing did beg a question. Just who the hell was Kellach Dunne?

Lex finished her shower and drew on the expensive clothing. The skirt reached to her knees, as did the luxurious boots. The panties fit but the bra didn’t come close, as it was at least a cup too large. Whatever woman had left the clothing at Kell’s house had been rather well-endowed.

She paused and glanced in the full-length mirror. Wow. Dressed in the bold clothing, she looked . . . dangerous.

Ah ha. The clothes belonged to Kell’s cousin, the lawyer. Had to be.

Lex shook out her hair and smoothed her fingers through the already curling ends. Enough hedging. She had to go out and face him.

The night before had been amazing, and he’d controlled her every move, which had only made her come harder. Vulnerability washed through her in complete contrast to the tough outfit. Steeling her shoulders, she hustled out of the bathroom and bedroom, strode through the living room and stopped short in the kitchen. Well, shit.

Two young men, the ones from the diner, sat at the table gobbling up what looked like waffles.

She paused. Damn it. She was a big ole slut cop who’d stayed the night with their friend.

Slowly, they turned their heads.

She expected derision or mocking smiles. Instead, the two men nearly tipped over their chairs and jumped to their feet, overwhelming the kitchen with pure male size.

The one with tinted eyeglasses flushed. “Sorry we started without you. The waffles just smelled so good—”

“They are good.” The kid with green eyes nodded solemnly and then reached to his side to pull out a chair. “Please have a seat, ma’am.”

Ma’am? She squinted to search for any mockery and only saw polite smiles. She was only a decade older than them, but the politeness was sweet. The one with glasses glanced longingly down at his half-full plate before turning and smiling at her again.

Kellach rounded the counter with a full platter of scrambled eggs to slide to the middle of the table. “Grab a plate now, darlin’. They’ll eat the placemats if we don’t stop them.” Moving toward her, like every dangerous predator with grace, he dropped a chaste kiss on her nose.

She blinked, her body frozen and stunned. “Ah—”

Kell drew her forward. “Alexandra, this is Garrett Kayrs”—he pointed to the kid with eyeglasses first, and then turned his attention to the other kid—“and Logan Kyllwood.”

“Ma’am,” Garrett said, taking her hand in an übergentle grip to shake ever so slightly. “We’re sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but we had to talk to Kell, and we, uh, smelled the waffles.” He handed her over to Logan, who shook just as gently.

Logan released her and smiled. “We like to eat.”

Beautiful. Both boys, although way too young for her, were stunningly beautiful in totally different ways, yet fiercely masculine and tough. Way too tough for their youth. Young badasses who looked like they could bench press a truck or two.

Kell propelled her forward to sit and then scooted her chair closer to the table, placing another kiss on her ear.

A shiver slid through her, and she cleared her throat.

Both boys instantly dropped back into their seats. Logan piled eggs onto her plate while Garrett dished several waffles on next. Such polite kids, and they genuinely seemed to be trying to help her.

She’d never be able to eat so much. Her mind fuzzed as she tried to make sense of an already odd morning. She wanted to ask Kell about the clothes, but she didn’t want to make it so obvious to the boys that she’d been naked and needed clothes. Of course, they had to have known she’d stayed the night, but maybe they didn’t think she’d been naked.

Of course they’d figure she’d been naked.

She sighed and poured syrup on her waffles. They did smell delicious.

Kellach finally sat across from her, reaching for a plate. “Garrett and Logan are prospects at Fire.”

She lifted an eyebrow. The polite, tough-as-nails cuties were prospects? Hmm. “Since when?” She flashed back to the diner scene.

Logan grinned around a mouth of waffles. “Since the other night.”

Lex nodded. “I saw you guys at the diner. Who’s King?”

Garrett coughed. “You mean, the king?”

“Sure.” The guy had seemed seriously in charge, and he’d ticked Kell off, so what the hell was going on? “He’s in the club, right?”

Logan pressed his lips together while mirth filled his eyes.

Garrett snorted. “Ah, no. The king has his own club.”

Logan grinned. “The king is a club. Right?”

Garrett nodded and chuckled. “He’s my uncle. Our uncle.”

None of this was making sense. Lex took a bite and nearly hummed as flavor exploded on her tongue. Delicious. She wiped her mouth with a linen napkin. “Who the heck is the king, and why are you here?”

Both boys looked toward Kell.

He dug into his eggs, his black eyes amused. Then he shrugged.