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The receptionist, a bubbly redhead with a megawatt smile that could power a small city, practically bounces over to greet me. “You must be Ava!” she chirps, ushering me into a glass-walled conference room that looks like it was designed by the NASA. “The guys are just finishing up another meeting, but they’ll be with you in a jiffy!”
Jiffy? Who the hell says jiffy anymore? Fucking calm down, Ava. The poor woman has done nothing to you. I nod and smile, trying to ignore the way my heart is doing a drum solo in my chest as she slips back out, leaving me alone with my nerves.
I take a moment to compose myself, smoothing my skirt and checking my reflection in the shiny tabletop. I look professional, polished, like a woman who has her shit together and isn’t at all internally screaming. But inside, I’m a mess of jitters and racing thoughts.
The door opens, and I look up to see three men stride into the room like they just stepped off a runway. And hot damn, are they a sight for sore eyes.
The first one is the oldest of the trio, a total silver fox. He’s got that whole “powerful CEO” vibe going on, with salt-and-pepper hair and piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through me. He’s rocking a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that hugs his muscular build in all the right places, and the way he carries himself just screams, “I own this room and everyone in it.”
Next to him is a younger guy, maybe in his thirties, with short dirty blond hair and a cocky grin that makes my stomach do a little flip. He’s got a laid-back, almost lazily confident air about him, like he knows exactly how hot he is and isn’t afraid to use it. He’s dressed more casually, in dark jeans that hug his ass like a glove, and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, veiny forearms with a light smothering of hair.
And then there’s the third man. Oh boy. He looks like he was made straight out of my late-night fantasies, all tall, dark, and smoldering. With jet-black hair that’s just begging for fingers to run through, and soulful brown eyes that make me feel like I’m the only person in the room. He’s got a quiet intensity about him, like a crackling electric current running just beneath the surface. And the way his black suit molds to his solid frame? Sheeyit! I’m feeling a little hot, and it’s not just from nerves.
The silver fox steps forward, extending a large, manly hand with a smile that makes my heart beat faster. “Ava, I presume? Alex Kincaid. Pleasure to have you.”
I shake his hand, his warmth and strength making me feel all tingly. Oh boy… I’m hoping he can’t feel the way my pulse is doing the samba. “The pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Kincaid. I can’t thank you enough for considering me for this opportunity.”
The blond Adonis chuckles, a rich, warm sound that makes me think of honey and sin. “Please, call him Alex. Mr. Kincaid reminds him how old he is. And I’m Ethan. Ethan Wolf.” He winks, and I feel my cheeks flush. “We’re not big on formality around here.”
I can’t help but grin at that, feeling some of my nerves dissipate. “Duly noted.” Then I turn to the walking wet dream.
He steps forward, his large hand engulfing mine in a firm shake that sends sparks shooting up my arm. “Liam Knox,” he says simply, his voice a deep, smooth rumble that I swear I can feel down to my bones.
“Well then, gentlemen,” I say, taking back my seat at the conference table and crossing my legs in a move I pray looks more confident than I feel. “Shall we get started?”
The next hour passes in a whirlwind of rapid-fire questions and animated discussion. Alex, Ethan, and Liam take turns grilling me on everything from my experience at DeLuca Enterprises to my thoughts on the future of AI and blockchain. They’re razor-sharp and relentless, peppering me with complex scenarios and challenging my assertions. But there’s a glint of something like respect in their eyes as I hold my own, shooting back my responses.
It’s so exciting being in a room with such brilliant people.
As the interview winds down, I sit back in my chair, feeling a sense of calm settle over me. I’ve given it my all, laid everything on the table. And no matter what happens next, no matter what they decide, I know I’ve done myself proud.
Alex leans forward, steepling his fingers under his chin. “Ava,” he says, his blue eyes serious but not unkind. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re incredibly impressed. Your passion, your intelligence… it’s exactly what we look for in a member of our team.”
Ethan nods, flashing me a grin that’s all white teeth and wicked charm. “Seriously, you’re a badass. We’d be lucky to have you on board.”
I feel a flush of pleasure at their praise, laughing at Ethan’s irreverent compliment.
“I… Thank you,” I manage, my voice coming out slightly breathless.
Alex smiles, a genuine, warm expression that makes him look years younger. “Well then, Ms. Soto. What do you say? Ready to come on board and help us?”
I feel a grin split my face, so wide it almost hurts. “Where do I sign?”
Ava
Being the executive assistant to three insanely hot, successful men is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I get to bask in the glory of their presence every day, soaking up their brilliance like a sponge. But on the other hand, I’m constantly fighting the urge to jump their bones and beg them to have their wicked way with me.
It’s a problem, especially since I’m supposed to be in a committed relationship. But lately, things in said relationship have been… well, let’s just say they’ve been lacking in the excitement department.
It’s not that Jim’s a bad guy. He treats me well. But our sex life? It’s about as spicy as a bowl of oatmeal. Missionary, lights off, no talking. Yawn.
And the thing is, I got needs. Desires. Fantasies that keep me up at night, tossing and turning with a throbbing ache between my legs. I’m talking about the kind of fantasies that involve being tied up, spanked, and shared by multiple partners like a naughty little plaything.
But how do you bring that up to your vanilla boyfriend? How do you tell him you want to be dominated, ravished, and worshiped like a powerful, dirty queen who owns her kinkiness?
Well, apparently, you do it after you’re reached the end of your rope…
Jim and I are snuggled up on the couch, watching some boring-ass movie. I’m feeling a little bold and a whole lot horny. So, I turn to him and say, “Hey babe, can we talk about something?”
