Authors: Tina Donahue
SinfullyWicked
Two brothers—one
woman—unforgettable passion.
Years before, Nikki fell in love with Mitch
and Connor, only to ultimately betray them both. Now she’s back and in need of
their help.
Powerful and commanding, Mitch has
never stopped craving Nikki. Connor hungers for her just as badly, but isn’t
ready to forgive. If she needs some fast cash by working at their gentlemen’s
club, she’ll have to audition—by stripping for them.
Aroused by their shameless
scrutiny, Nikki’s willing to do whatever it takes to be near them again…even if
that means being punished in the BDSM room or starring in one of Connor’s
erotic films. Mitch won’t have it, however, unless he and Connor are the ones
enjoying her body.
On a sultry weekend, Nikki
surrenders to their lust, reawakening a timeless bond and the beginnings of
forgiveness.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Sinfully Wicked
ISBN 9781419939860
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Sinfully Wicked Copyright 2012 Tina Donahue
Edited by Briana St. James
Cover design by Syneca
Photography: Loraine Kourafas, RJ Lerich,
Luxora/Shutterstock.com; Romancenovelcovers.com
Electronic book publication March 2012
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Sinfully Wicked
Tina Donahue
Dedication
To Jill for making me laugh, Marie for your unwavering
support and Tim for just being who you are. I don’t know what I’d do without
friends like you.
Author Note
After writing many one woman-one man romances, I decided to
try my hand at a ménage with my last effort,
SiNN
being the result. I’ve
received so much praise from both fans and reviewers, I wanted to try another.
Sinfully
Wicked
is Nikki, Mitch and Connor’s story. Enjoy.
Chapter One
She smelled of magnolia and musk, the mingling of helpless
female and seductive predator. A curious combination, but who said she couldn’t
be both?
Hell, she was a freaking mess. Her palms were clammy with
anxiety, her nipples tight with expectation. The kind a woman experiences when
she’s about to be spanked, then hopefully laid…long and hard.
Yeah, right.
She paced the spacious office like something wild and caged.
Her high heels clicked on the shiny hardwood floor, keeping time with her
pounding pulse. No matter how much she needed it—and by God, she
did—soul-stirring sex, followed by aching tenderness, wasn’t going to be on the
menu this afternoon. Going to the men she’d betrayed years ago, brothers she’d
truly loved, didn’t count as the smartest thing to do, but Nikki Blaine needed
their help.
At the burgundy leather sofa, she stopped, clutching the arm
for support, the secretary’s words ringing in her mind that Mr. Wade would be
with her in a few minutes.
Nikki hadn’t bothered to ask which Mr. Wade the young woman
had been talking about. She would have bet a year of her life that this room
belonged to Mitch. Scented with leather and something woodsy, it was darkly
masculine with rich mahogany walls, copper accent lamps topped by
bronze-colored shades and classic cherry furniture. Solid and imposing.
Her attention drifted to the desk. That baby was nearly as
long as a bed and wide enough for two people, maybe even three.
Don’t go there.
She had no right. It wasn’t as though
she could waltz in here after nearly fifteen years and expect Mitch to give her
a hug or a welcome home fuck…if he showed up at all.
Where is he?
Nearly a half hour had passed since his
secretary had led Nikki inside. After Mitch’s initial shock had worn off, had
he decided against seeing her? Did he figure she’d behave as cruelly as when
they’d been in high school?
Sucking her lower lip, Nikki circled the sofa, pausing at
the photos of him and Connor from well-respected business magazines. She was
intimately familiar with these images, having seen them when she lived in New
York prior to her ex-husband’s arrest. Through the years, she’d followed Mitch
and Connor’s many successes, wanting only the best for them.
Smiling softly, Nikki reached for the first photo, taken
outside Wicked, their wildly popular gentlemen’s club. The reason she was here
today.
Please say yes
.
Please show up.
If neither of
them did, Nikki wasn’t certain what she’d do. On a heavy sigh, she halted, her
hand stalling before she could touch either of the brothers’ likenesses. At the
edge of the glass, she caught Mitch’s reflection.
He stood in the doorway to his office, bathed in the gauzy
light pouring in from the arched window. Beyond it, Atlanta moved at a far more
sluggish pace than Manhattan ever had, with today’s oppressive humidity forcing
everything to an exaggerated Southern crawl. Feeling as though she were moving
in slo-mo, Nikki turned.
Her heart stopped for a moment, then sped up as she regarded
him quickly, afraid she wouldn’t have the chance to get her fill. At six-three,
he made the sprawling room seem small, his body a man’s, lean yet muscular, no
longer a lanky teen. Ruggedly handsome, he wore his thirty years well. There
were laugh lines at the corners of his beautiful hazel eyes. They looked golden
behind his sooty lashes, complementing his olive complexion. Combed away from
his forehead, his chestnut-colored hair was longish in the back and on the
sides.
Nikki reined in her urge to run her fingers through his
thick, wavy locks, to touch and smell him, her face buried in the hollow of his
neck, her body pressed to his, lost in his heat and strength. Protected at
last. Home.
A preposterous notion that made it difficult for her to
move, impossible to speak, but still she hoped.
His expression wasn’t guarded or indifferent as she’d feared.
Wonder flooded his features, no different from when they’d been in her parents’
garage after their first kiss. She was fifteen then. He’d been a year older and
seemed so worldly. Life hadn’t been easy for him or Connor. She’d fallen in
love with both brothers, but it was Mitch who’d made the initial move.
They’d been horsing around that afternoon, mercilessly
teasing each other. Mitch finally settled the score by tickling her into
submission. Before Nikki could catch her breath or slug him, his lips brushed
hers. Their velvety warmth surprised. His bristly cheeks thrilled. She’d wanted
him to hold her in his arms forever. Later that same week, Connor kissed her.
Nikki never wanted to leave his side.
There was no guilt in what she felt. Both brothers accepted
the other’s claim on her just as she had, treating it as needed and natural.
For the most part, their relationship remained innocent. They were her dearest
friends, like none she’d ever known.
Their bliss lasted three months, ending when school started that
fall.
Pained at the loss, wanting back what she couldn’t have and
sure as hell didn’t deserve, Nikki stepped closer.
Mitch’s crisp white shirt rippled with his quiet breathing.
He’d opened the collar, wore no tie and had folded the sleeves to mid-forearm.
Dark hairs dusted his skin, sending a thrum of pleasure through her. He had the
look of an executive in crisis mode, prepared to get his hands dirty to make
things right.
Nikki wanted his hands on her, exploring her breasts,
nipples and especially her cunt. It ached dully, congested with more than a
decade of desire. How long had it been since a man craved her to the exclusion
of everything else? Since Mitch and Connor, she couldn’t recall. Even in the
early years of her marriage, when she’d convinced herself she was in love, her
ex had worshipped wealth, image, power, not her. She stared at Mitch’s fingers,
wonderfully long, the tips blunt, recalling his eager yet loving touch. It took
all of Nikki’s will not to glance at his fly and see if this moment excited him
as much as it did her.
When he didn’t move or speak, she risked another small step,
her heels tapping on the floor, the distance still yawning between them, no
different from the past. “Hi…thanks for agreeing to see me.”
Longing flared briefly in his eyes, making the years fall
away. And then he smiled.
His reaction should have comforted Nikki, but it didn’t. He
wore the same expression a man gives to a stranger he doesn’t care about, his
emotions buried beneath polite disinterest.
Okay, she’d earned that and so much more for what she’d done
to him and Connor. Shame made her want to apologize. Yearning made her ask,
“How are you, Mitch?”
His fingers curled into loose fists. He shoved them into the
front pockets of his beautifully tailored navy pants. “What brings you here,
Nikki?”
Despite his blunt question, warmth continued to roll through
her. His baritone was deeper than she remembered, deliciously rough and male,
bearing a hint of his Midwestern accent, the same as Connor’s and hers. They’d
all been transplants to Georgia as kids, making them as foreign to the locals
as tofu at a Texas barbecue.
She wanted to smile at the memory. She wanted to ask him how
much he knew about her problems these past months. Surely he’d seen the
newspaper articles or caught some of the awful reports on the internet and TV.
Even
60 Minutes
had done a piece on what had happened with Bob Simon
looking grimmer than usual. So in answer to his question, that was what had
brought her here. And as soon as Nikki had the courage to bring it up, she
would. “How’s Connor?”
Mitch inclined his head to the area behind her.
He was already in here? Watching? Listening?
Nikki reacted with a full body blush at Connor being in the
other doorway, his approach muffled by the Persian area rug. His amazement at
seeing her wasn’t nearly as nice as Mitch’s initial wonder, but it was no
surprise. Outside of their height and powerful builds, they were nothing alike
in personality or looks.
As Mitch’s fraternal twin, Connor was younger by thirty
minutes, his complexion lighter, his features more classically beautiful, his
eyes so dark they looked black. He wore his sable hair shaggy, like a rocker.
Completing his bad-boy image was his close-cropped beard, a diamond stud in his
lobe, black tee and jeans.
His attire was as laid-back as his personality was intense.
Arms crossed over his chest, he demonstrated his artist’s temperament and long
memory. Nikki watched his transformation from stunned to wary. That more than
anything kept her rooted in place even though she missed him as badly as she’d
missed Mitch, hungering to feel his arms around her, his breath on her skin.
“Connor, hi,” she offered.
He opened his mouth, then closed it without saying a word,
choosing instead to stare at his brother. Mitch offered no explanation as to
her presence, nor did he try to comfort because of it.
Desperate to break the awkward silence, Nikki spoke without
thinking. “How’s your grandmother?”
Both brothers frowned, their reactions remarkably similar.
Dummy.
She knew better than to ask about the woman.
Their grandmother had been the source of their problems when they were kids.
Not that Mitch or Connor would ever admit to it. They’d defended her without
pause.
“She’s fine,” Mitch said. He went behind his desk and sat,
gesturing Nikki to one of the wing chairs facing it.
Her legs were too watery to move with any grace, so she
remained standing, as did Connor.
Mitch pressed back in his chair. The springs squeaked. “What
brings you here, Nikki?”
Her belly cramped at what she was about to ask and might not
get, but she didn’t have any other choice. “I saw your ad. I need a job badly.”
Connor uncrossed his arms and moved close enough for Nikki
to catch his clean scent. A lime fragrance, fresh, citrusy and so arousing she
had to suppress a shiver.
“We advertised for an attorney?” he asked Mitch.
“No,” Nikki answered, pleased he knew about her former
career, worried as to how he’d found out. “I’m not doing that anymore.”
Neither brother asked why.
Okay, so they knew most of the gory details. Nikki decided
to explain the others. “Because of what happened, I’m pretty much unemployable
in New York or anywhere else in the nation, at least as an attorney.” She
shrugged, trying to make light of it. “You need waitstaff and performers at
Wicked. I’d like to apply for one of those positions.”
Mitch arched his brows.
Connor blurted, “Wicked’s a gentlemen’s club.” His attention
dropped to her chest, lingering there. “The waitstaff is topless.”
“Or bottomless,” Mitch cut in, sounding as distracted as his
brother as he took in her length.
“Sometimes both,” Connor added, then cleared his throat and
continued, “depending upon the room.”
“Yeah, I know,” she murmured, as breathless as they were. “I
read the magazine articles about it. It sounds like an amazing place. Does full
nudity pay the most?”
Mitch stood. His chair rolled back, smacking the credenza.
Gone were his arousal and earlier detachment, replaced by an expression that
was decidedly pissed. “Is this a joke?”
“I need the money,” Nikki said, forgetting pride or dignity.
Nothing mattered now except survival. “I’m certain you understand why. You did
read or watch the news reports about what my ex-husband did, right?”
Mitch and Connor exchanged a glance. Their silence and
expressions told Nikki they knew that Ty Jeffries was no longer the golden boy
everyone had worshipped. He’d always been a thief and a fraud, no different
from Bernard Madoff, another wealth manager who’d scammed his clients.
“My parents got caught up in Ty’s scheme,” Nikki said.
“They’re going to lose their home, their only remaining asset, if I don’t get
them some money and fast. I know you pay very well at Wicked.” Way better than
an entry-level admin or customer service job. From what Nikki had heard, some
of the girls made enough to afford ivy-league degrees or buy their own homes in
upscale neighborhoods.
She spoke to Connor. “I’ve seen the website you set up for
it. Totally amazing. It reminds me of the artwork you did when we were in
school.” She turned to Mitch. “I don’t have the luxury of looking for work
anywhere else. Even that orange vest and dream job at Walmart isn’t going to
happen with my past.”
He didn’t return her smile. “You didn’t have anything to do
with your husband’s scams.”
“Ex-husband,” she corrected, recalling the quickie divorce
and enormous amount of money she’d paid a prominent criminal attorney to clear
her name. It kept her out of jail, ruined her financially and didn’t change the
public’s opinion of who they thought she was. “That photo of me being hauled
away in cuffs left a lasting impression in most people’s minds. A lot of them
don’t believe that Ty forged my signature to those checks and documents.
They’re convinced I had something to do with his scam or that I knew about it.
They’re not prepared to forgive.” She snuck a peek at Connor.
His arms were back over his chest, his stance distant and
unsympathetic.
Suppressing a sigh, Nikki tried to reason with Mitch.
“Nudity doesn’t bother me. Been there. Done that.”
Connor grunted.
“I have,” she insisted to him.
“You’ve worked in a gentlemen’s club before,” he said.
“Well no, but I have been to parties in the Hamptons thrown
by the financial wizards of Wall Street. You know, the kings of the world?” She
gave him a wry smile. “I doubt any gentlemen’s club, even yours, could be as
wild.”
Neither of them said a word. They appeared disappointed, as
though they’d expected better of her.
A long time ago, Nikki had too. Then loneliness crept up,
refusing to leave. Ty’s frequent absences and his increasing disdain that she
wasn’t the prettiest, wealthiest, most pure bred of their group began to wear
on her. Nikki had ached for a man’s embrace, someone to love and require her
just as she was. Imperfect sure, but still worthy. For a few brief moments at
those lust-fueled parties, she’d felt desired by the other men…adored.