“Dillon doesn’t change. Trust me on this.” Nolan dumped his wine down the sink and headed for the bar. “I need something stronger than cabernet tonight. Do we still have that Irish whiskey?”
Vince nodded and watched as Nolan stalked to the bar and started rummaging past bottles until he found the one he was searching for. Vince exhaled and brought his glass to his lips, noting Penny’s apprehension and confusion. He tried a small smile for her benefit with, “It’s going to be fine” but the words seemed disingenuous given their reactions. Penny knew there was something they weren’t telling her. Vince paused and pulled Penny to him. His mouth traveled a warm line down the column of her neck and she shivered in spite of the turmoil in her mind. She relaxed a little as his touch did nice things to her insides. “How are you feeling today?” he murmured against her skin, distracting her easily. “Nolan said you were a little sore from our session the other night.”
She blushed and nodded. Drat that Nolan for knowing when she was lying. “But I don’t mind,” she added quickly. Her breath hitched as she admitted softly, “I like the soreness. It reminds me of what we did together.”
He chuckled and pulled her tighter against him. “That’s my naughty girl.” He slanted his mouth over hers and she tasted the wine on his tongue. Her knees wobbled but he held her firmly as he plundered her mouth in the same way he penetrated her body with unrelenting determination and she loved it. But all too soon, he was releasing her and joining Nolan. It seemed her presence wasn’t required tonight. Sharply disappointed but understanding of the situation, she excused herself, claiming a headache.
They both showered her with appropriate good night kisses and then patting her behind, sent her off to bed.
It chaffed a little that she’d been effectively dismissed but that was the terms of their arrangement. Nothing had ever been said about the arrangement being emotional in nature. She stripped and slid into bed, forgoing her nightie to slide between the silky smooth sheets, sighing as the material whispered across her skin in a decadent kiss. She’d never slept on linens so fine in her life. Before Vince and Nolan, her idea of splurging had been to purchase new at Target instead of thrift store linens. Now, she’d become delightfully accustomed to the finer things, even if none of the fine things belonged to her. As she plumped the pillow beneath her head, she wondered if she would sleep alone tonight. As her eyelids fluttered shut, an image of Dillon popped uninvited into her mental theater. A troubled sigh escaped as she purposefully pushed all thought of the other Buchanan far from her thoughts. Dillon was trouble — and trouble was the last thing she needed. She was living the dream…wasn’t she? Yes, of course she was. Silly question. So why did she have the persistent nagging worry that she was about to lose it all?
***
Penny awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking and she smiled sleepily, not quite awake. She stretched and yawned as she came fully aware, then she frowned and sat up with a start so quick her head swam. Nolan and Vince hadn’t stayed over. She’d been disappointed to find her bed empty aside from herself so who was in her kitchen? Had one returned to make her breakfast? Perhaps. Don’t be such a worry-wart, she chastised herself as she slipped on a robe over her nude body and padded into the kitchen. Her smile faded when she saw Dillon standing there sliding scrambled eggs and bacon onto two plates.
“W-what are you doing in my apartment?” Penny demanded to know, hating that her voice shook and her stomach growled at the delicious smell of freshly cooked food. Damn her love of good food.
“Technically, the apartment belongs to my family, which means it also belongs to me — a small fact my little brothers are fond of forgetting — so the question should be, what are you doing in my apartment? Before you answer that, come, sit and enjoy breakfast. I suspect we have a lot to talk about.”
Penny thought to turn on her heel and storm out of there — well, at least storm to the bedroom to get dressed — but she had an awful lot of questions and Dillon, more so than Vince and Nolan, seemed willing to answer them. What harm could there be? He didn’t seem all that dangerous today, but then it’s hard to look menacing when you’re holding a plate of food with an engaging smile on your face. Penny tugged at her bottom lip, not quite sure what to do. “Just talk and eat breakfast?” she confirmed with a suspicious look shot his way.
“Scout’s honor.”
“Something tells me you were never a scout,” she muttered but took a seat and accepted the plate. She made sure her robe was securely tied around her, then took an exploratory bite of the eggs. Of course, they were fantastic, she wanted to groan. She’d half hoped they were disgusting so she could excuse herself with good reason. No such luck. “Where’d you learn how to cook like this?” she asked.
“Here, there…” he answered, tucking into his own plate without hesitation. “When you’ve been kicked off the family teat, you learn how to fend for yourself pretty quick and since I enjoy a good meal, my only choice was to learn how to make things myself.”
Kicked off the family teat? “What do you mean? Were you disowned or something?”
He cast her a wry glance. “Something like that.”
She shouldn’t ask. It wasn’t her business. What would Nolan and Vince think if they knew she was prying into their private family affairs? But the temptation was too strong. At her worst, she was a terribly nosey thing. Perhaps she should’ve went into journalism instead of accounting, then she would’ve had a valid reason for prying into people’s lives. But before she could ask another question, Dillon had one of his own. “Are you sleeping with Vince or Nolan?” When Penny blushed and looked away, he chuckled and surmised with a surprised grin, “Both? Damn, my brothers have upped their game in the time since I’ve been home.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, frowning.
“It means exactly what you think it means,” Dillon said, his mouth twisting. “Let me guess, you’re in a contract for your services…”
Penny squirmed, terribly embarrassed at their secret business arrangement being discussed casually over eggs. “It’s not all about money. I care about them and they care about me. They’re very good to me.”
“Of course they are,” he said, not surprised. “You’re their pet. Masters are always good to a pet they’ve just purchased. It’s all about the novelty. Eventually, they’ll tire of their newest acquisition, probably right about the time your contract is up.”