And that’s exactly how the members — ourselves included — preferred it.
A sex club where royals took a woman to bed three at once? I mean c’mon, it sounds fake even saying it. But it was real.
It was very real.
Now, granted, Julia didn’t know us from the club, but she was a smart girl. Sooner or later, she was going to get stuck on the matching tattoos of ours I knew she’d seen, and she was going to put the pieces together.
“Luke— fuck, man,” Vic growled, rubbing his temples. “Dude if we’d had any fucking idea it was the girl you’d been telling us—”
“It’s fine,” our friend snapped, still turned away from us.
But it wasn’t. None of this was. Not the fact that she knew who we were, and not the fact that our girl was Luke’s new PA, and the girl he’d been obsessing over.
Because even knowing that Julia was “the girl” Luke had been stuck on didn’t change what I knew Vic and I were both thinking — that she was without a doubt the girl that we were now stuck on. Because the night before had been more than just the single best sex of both of our lives.
The night before, we’d connected with her on a level that scared the shit out of me. Out of him too.
So beyond everything, what wasn’t “fine” the most was the fact that for the first time in our lives, a girl was about to come between us all.
And more than anything, that was a fucking problem.
Chapter 7
Luke
Yeah, I was fucking pissed.
I’ll admit, my intentions were, well, suspect when it came to my new personal assistant. Yes, I’d hired Julia because of her qualifications — her way over qualifications, actually. But one look — one fucking look at her — and I was done.
Gone.
Shattered.
I’d been there for her interview, unbeknownst to her of course. I’d stood behind the interviewer, behind the one-way glass, my eyes locked on this girl — all blonde hair, blue eyes, soft curves, and sinfully tempting lips.
Her beauty was obvious, but it was the way she effortlessly handled extremely loaded — and I’d know, I’d written them — questions that really got me. It was her quick wit, her easy answers to challenging what-if scenarios. The fact that she had a master’s degree.
The fact that the whole package made her fucking irresistible.
I’d been unable to think, and unable to move.
That easy smile — the proper way she’d sat there so regal and with such poise. Hell, she was a princess without a crown, and fuck did I want to give her the crown she clearly deserved.
It was an insane thought, and I knew it. The thing was, I didn’t give a shit. I’d never even spoken to her, but then, I did know everything about her.
Everything.
To be fair, I did my research — personally — on all the applicants to my much-needed PA position. But her, I spent a little extra time on.
I mean, can you blame me?
I knew about her dad taking off young. I knew about her mother in the hospital.
Her debts.
Her ex-boyfriend — the very thought of whom made me want to personally hunt him down and flay him alive.
The thing was, I’d fallen for Julia the second I’d opened her file, and the deal was sealed the minute she stepped into that interview room.
So, I’d hired her.
The reasons were impure — very very impure — but fuck it.
I was a prince, after all.
Having her close meant more than what was right or inappropriate. I hadn’t thought it through. I hadn’t thought through taking my PA to bed and that not being a scandal.
And now, I was done fucking thinking.
I’d known something was wrong the second she’d stepped into that office earlier and met Micah and Victor. It was all over her face, but it was them that really clued me into something being up. Hell, I’d known the two of them like we were bothers since basically forever, and neither of them was one to be shy or quiet when around a woman as beautiful as Julia.
They’d literally been in the middle of telling me about some incredible night they’d had with some girl that sounded like she was their version of my Julia — an obsession that had sliced them as deep as she had me — when she’d come in, and the two of them had been goddamn silent.
It was at lunch when they’d dropped the bomb. There in the private dining room of the most exclusive restaurant in the three kingdoms, over a lunch I’d literally forgotten entirely about, they’d looked me in the eye and told me the last thing I wanted to hear.
Their girl, and my girl, were the same fucking girl.
And they’d gotten her first.
I wasn’t mad at them, I was mad at the situation. I was jealous — fuck, I mean of course I was jealous.
And turned on.
Really, the thought of my two best friends sharing the girl I’d been obsessing over claiming was this fucked up mix of blinding jealousy and insane arousal. I was rock fucking hard as I stormed back to my offices, imagining the two of them claiming her and making her come like I knew the two of them were capable of doing to a woman.
But then, there was a slice of something right through my heart that threw me for a loop.
…Jealousy was not a word I’d literally ever considered when it came to Micah, Victor, and me. This was going to be goddamn problem, and I had no idea how the hell to deal with it.
Actually, the only thing going through my head as I blew past my palace guards, a look of fury sizzling across my face, was that bizarre mix of arousal and jealousy.
Fury and raw want.
I could have thought about it. I could have mulled that shit over and “figured out what to do.” But like I said…
I was done thinking.
The door to my office slammed shut with all the fury I could muster, the goddamn bookshelves of the room shaking at the force of it. I glanced at the closed door to her office — my rage and my throbbing erection draining the blood from my ability to think. I stormed to my desk and jammed the intercom button with my finger, sucking in air as I did so.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
She said it in this small, quiet voice.
Yeah, she knew something was up.
I’d seen the way she’d looked at me when we’d “met” earlier. I’d see the way her pulse quickened in the shallow of her neck — the way her breath had caught.
The way her thighs had clenched tight as I’d moved towards her.
She wanted me. I don’t say that to boast, or to be a cocky dick, I say that because years of watching women turn to mush or lose their ability to speak around me had taught me what to look for.
…Julia Carlson had every single marking of a girl who wanted me, and she was about to find out exactly how much I wanted her.
“In my office, now.”
I heard her gasp quietly, and I grinned to myself — my whole body coiled and roaring to pounce. The jealousy and the desire mixed, making my head swim and my cock threaten to rip a hole in the front of my suit as I hung up the intercom and waited.
Slowly, her door opened, and she stepped out.
“Sir?”
“Ms. Carlson.”