“My request?”I repeat curiously.
“Yes.” She gets up on her tiptoes and leans in close to my ear. “I wanted you in the Boyfriend Bedroom tonight. We both did.”
“We?” I swallow a gulp, looking between Demi and Sarah. Sarah is almost as tall as me. She has light brown hair that’s pin straight and large hazel eyes. Very pretty and very seductive.
“Yup. But whoever I talked to said you weren’t interested,” she pouts.
“Well, I didn’t know it was you,” I admit, a little off-kilter.
“You know it’s me now. Is there any way you’ll change your mind?”
“Maybe,” I toy with her. “What exactly do you want to do in the B and B?”
“You.” She licks my neck. “And her.”
My knees almost buckle. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you want, too?” I question Sarah with my heart galloping around in chest.
“Mmm hmm.” She sucks on her bottom lip and looks at me like I’m something edible.
“So, what do you say?” Demi runs her hand up my bare torso. “Will you be our boyfriend tonight? It’ll come with all the perks.”
My jaw drops. I can’t believe they’re serious. And now I know why she told Daniel she’d pay double.
I glance over to see Divan and Logan hawking me. I smile wickedly. How the hell can I say no to a proposition like this? My hormones start working double time. No pun intended.
“Okay,” I agree.
Demi and Sarah don’t waste a minute. They each take one of my hands and pull me forward, leaving everyone else behind. I glance back at Logan and Divan right before I exit the room. They’re looking at me like they hate me and want to high five me all at the same time.
Sometimes, it really fucking rocks to be Jack.
* * *
Apparently,I was hungry, because I just housed a plate of scrambled eggs, a stack of pancakes, and some bacon. I guess threesomes work up an appetite.
I spent the better half of breakfast being bombarded by questions from Divan and Logan about last night. I gave them some vague details, like how two girls versus one guy is completely acceptable odds, but that’s it. I’m not one to kiss and tell.
They wanted to kill me.
When I get home, I find Mac pacing the apartment.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“Ah, work?” I answer guiltily.
“It’s eight in the morning?”
“So? I had an extra late night. Or, extra early morning?” I’m not sure which.
I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge with every intention of heading to bed. I’m beat.
“What are you doing up?” I ask.
“I can’t sleep.”