*Isabella's POV*
"Okay, I'll be your girlfriend," I said, the words feeling both terrifying and exhilaratingly right. "But... how would it work? I'm assuming you two have done this before," I asked, my eyes flicking between them.
They both nodded. "We have," Jacob confirmed, his tone casual, like he was talking about a shared hobby. "It's pretty much normal, you'll see. It's just... you'll have both of us to meet your needs." He said it with a straight face, but the heat in his eyes made the simple phrase sound filthy, and I felt a blush creep up my neck.
"Okay, now the rules," he continued, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. "Rule 1: We can only be intimate when we're all here. As I explained to you before, and I'm not sure you believed me, we feel each other's pleasure. So no fucking cheating, because the other one will know. Instantly."
The memory of that strange, echoed sensation from last night sent a shiver down my spine. It was real. "Rule 2: The dates," he went on. "We go on dates, all three of us."
"How the hell does a three-person date go?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"You'll see," he replied, a smug little smile playing on his lips. "And if we eat takeout at the office? Is that considered a date?" I teased, trying to regain some semblance of control.
"Oh, Ms. Williams and her smart mouth," he chuckled, and I couldn't help but wink at him. "No, it won't. We can have lunches or dinners separately, but no funny business. So basically, no being intimate separately. We will share you."
The words hung in the air, and the playful vibe vanished. "What am I, a fucking sex doll?" I retorted, the absurdity and the slight sting of his words making my voice sharp.
"Is there another word for what we did to you last night?" he countered, his voice dropping to a low, husky rumble. He gave me a slow, deliberate wink, and just like that, he lit a fire inside me that burned brighter than before.
Flashes of memory from last night came flooding my head—Jacob's teasing, bruising kiss, then the demanding, punishing heat of Damien's mouth. The feeling of being passed between them, a prize they'd both won. I immediately felt my cheeks grow warmer and a low, familiar ache start to throb between my legs.
I was no prude. I enjoyed sex; it was a fucking necessity. I'd had my share of one-night stands and mediocre boyfriends. But now... what we did, what they did to me... that was another level. The pleasure was on a whole other fucking plane of existence. I had two gorgeous, powerful men worship me, pleasure me, ruin me for anyone else.
What more could I possibly want?
"Okay," I said, my brain still trying to process the "rules" and the reality of what I'd just agreed to. "So... what now?" I mean, what the fuck do you do after a conversation like that? Do you shake on it? Sign a contract in blood?
"We'll have breakfast," Jacob responded, his tone so fucking casual, like we hadn't just been discussing the logistics of a three-way relationship. He said it like he was talking about the weather.
And then Damien, spoke up. "And then, you'll prepare for tonight," he said, his voice a low, commanding rumble that left no room for argument. "We will go to dinner."
My heart did a little flip-flop. "A date?" I asked, the word coming out as a breathy whisper.
"Yes," Damien said, his dark eyes locking onto mine, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. "Our first date."
After a day spent doing basically soaking in the hot tub until my skin was prune, letting Damien's "magic hands" work out knots I didn't know I had—it was time. Game time.
I took a long, hot shower, letting the steam chase away the last of my relaxation and replace it with a buzzing, nervous energy. Then I started to prepare. I pulled out the big guns: a deep red dress. It was tight, hugging every curve I had, and the neckline did wonders for my breasts, pushing them up just enough to be dangerous. It stopped right at the knee, a perfect balance of classy and sexy. I slipped on the black 3-inch heels, the ones that gave me that extra bit of height I'd need to feel even remotely on their level. A light face of makeup, just enough to look like I had my shit together and I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail.
I met the driver downstairs, a silent, stoic man who didn't say a word as he held the car door open for me. The drive was silent, just the soft hum of the engine and the quiet city lights blurring past the window. And me? I was a fucking wreck. My knee was bouncing, my palms were sweating, and my mind was racing a million miles a minute. Where were we going? What the hell was a "three-person date"? Was this some kind of test? The silence in the car was so loud it was deafening, and my anxiety was screaming at full volume.
When the driver opened my door, I stepped out into the cool evening air and my jaw almost hit the fucking pavement. The restaurant ... . It was beautiful and elegant, all dark wood, crisp white linens, and dim, intimate lighting that made everything look like a dream. I felt like I'd walked into a movie set.
And then I saw them. Sitting at a secluded corner table, looking like they'd been plucked straight out of my filthiest fantasies. Damien was in a black suit that screamed dominant sophistication, the fabric stretching across his broad shoulders in a way that made my mouth go dry. And Jacob... Jacob was in a black suit too, but his was different. It shouted playful yet elegant, his tie slightly loosened, a mischievous glint in his eyes even from across the room. They were two sides of the same, devastatingly handsome coin.