Read Chase, Zara - Tigers' Temptation [Impulse 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Online
Authors: Zara Chase
“Er, panties?” she asked hopefully.
“No!” Chantal and Irena said together.
“Waste of money,” Irena said alone. “They won’t be on you long enough for it to matter.”
“Oh hell, talking of money, I left my credit card back at the Institute. Will you let me pay you later?”
“Your card’s no good here, honey.” Irena winked at her. “I’ll bill your guys.”
“Thanks, but I’m not sure this dress is actually, er—”
“You wanna get screwed?”
Irena, affronted because her professional taste had been called into question, looked like she’d be willing to debate the matter for the entire day. Layla knew it was a battle she’d never win, and so she gave in with good grace.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Glad we got that one sorted.”
With Irena’s good humor restored, Layla relaxed and allowed her friends to take complete control. As she did so, another thought occurred to her.
“You all knew that I could have saved Mikael all the pain he endured.” The girls nodded. “Then presumably you thought I knew as well but had said
no
and still let him deplete his powers by helping Amy. Mikael’s skills are pivotal to Impulse, and yet you’ve all been so kind to me.” Layla wrinkled her brow. “Why would you do that?”
Chantal smiled. “We know what it takes to live here. It’s not for everyone, however much they might be attracted to their guys in the beginning. We knew it was better for you to stay away from Mikael and Philo if you had a life to go back to and didn’t want to commit.”
“But we’re sure glad that you’ve decided you do.”
“If I can convince them.”
Irena grinned. “Honey, with you in that outfit they don’t stand an earthly chance. You’re sex on legs.”
“I wish I shared your confidence.”
“Mikael and Philo are in the Institute right now,” Chantal told Irena.
“Right, come on then, Layla. Chantal and I will help you prepare your siren’s den.” Irena called to her assistant. “I’m going out for a while.”
“Good luck, Layla.” A girl with spiky hair whose name Layla couldn’t remember stuck her head out of the back room and gave her a thumbs-up. “Not that you’ll need it in that getup.”
The three girls climbed into the golf cart and made the short journey back to the Institute, stopping briefly at another shop on the way. Layla, still in her seduction outfit, remained in the cart and didn’t see what the shop actually sold, or what was in the bulging bags the girls returned to the cart with.
The apartment was empty, as predicted. Irena placed her bag of goodies on the table, left Chantal to deal with them, and beckoned to Layla.
“Come on, I’ll do your makeup and hair.”
Layla wasn’t too sure about that. Irena’s own makeup was far too heavily applied for Layla’s taste. Even so, rather than offend Irena, who genuinely seemed to want to help, she allowed herself to be taken in hand and simply hoped for the best. To her astonishment, when Irena declared herself satisfied and Layla looked at her reflection, she barely recognized herself. Irena had gotten it exactly right. Her eyes, rimmed with black kohl, looked enormous. Her thick lashes, coated lightly with mascara, curled back on themselves in a way Layla hadn’t known was possible. Irena had done some clever shading on Layla’s cheekbones to show off their definition, and her lips looked lush and wet with a lighter shade of mauve gloss than that of her clothing.
“That’s amazing! Where did you learn so much about makeup?”
“I trained as a beautician. That was before I decided that I preferred being here, where I can be cossetted and regularly fucked by two hunky shifters.”
“Well, you haven’t forgotten any of your skill.”
“Thanks. Now, your hair.”
Irena brushed it out until it crackled and shone, then twisted it behind her head and anchored it in place with a sparkly clip.
“They won’t be able to resist taking it down.” Irena grinned, and shook her own thick mane, like she was talking from experience. “Trust me on this.”
“If you say so.”
“Oh, I do, I absolutely do.” Irena grabbed Layla’s hand. “Right, come on, let’s see how Chantal’s doing.”
When they walked back to the sitting room, Layla’s senses were assailed by the fragrance of sweet peas. She gasped when she saw thousands of mauve petals spread from the door to the apartment, leaving a trail into the guys’ bedroom. Where they’d acquired them on such short notice, Layla couldn’t begin to imagine, but anything seemed possible in Impulse.
“Just in case they can’t find you, I suppose,” Irena said, giggling. “We’ve learned that it’s usually better not to be subtle where men are concerned. They can be so obtuse sometimes.”
There was absolutely nothing Layla could say in response to that, so she kept her mouth shut and followed Irena into the bedroom. Chantal had closed the shades and was busily lighting a ton of candles in Philo’s glass candleholders. The bed was strewn with petals, too. The lighting, the aroma, the petals—far from looking tacky, it appeared exotically tasteful—the perfect backdrop for an evening of seduction.
“You like?” Chantal asked, fixing a complete sweet pea behind Layla’s ear.
“It’s astonishing.”
“Yeah, sometimes we surprise ourselves,” Irena said airily.
“I don’t know how to thank you guys.”
“Thank us by making sure that Mikael gets strong again,” Chantal said briskly.
“Right, our work’s done.” Irena cast a last critical look over Layla and adjusted the position of the flower behind her ear. “Now it’s up to you.”
“But Amy?”
“Will sleep for the rest of the day and all night,” Chantal said. “The nurses will look after her. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure people know what’s happening. Amy will be well taken care of, and you guys won’t be disturbed.”
Layla spread her hands as she lifted her shoulders in a gesture that purveyed her inability to express her gratitude.
“Thank us by screwing some sense into those obdurate tigers. We’ll make sure they come up in a few minutes’ time. Don’t want you to be kept waiting.” Chantal kissed Layla’s cheek. “Good luck. I can’t wait for you to be one of us.”
“Me, too.”
Irena kissed her as well, and, waving over their shoulders, the two girls left her alone.
Layla stood at the window, her back toward the door to the bedroom, her insides jangling with nerves. What if they really didn’t want her? What if…what if? The phrase rattled around inside her brain like a loose pea in a tin kettle, and she was unable to dislodge it.
“This is
so
not a good idea,” she said aloud. “If they reject me, I’ll never get over the humiliation.”
The sound of light footsteps on the stairs alerted her to their presence. There was no turning back now, and she was about to find out,
what if?
“Well,” she heard Philo say. “That wasn’t…say, what’s that perfume?”
“And this.”
Mikael had obviously seen the petal trail. He’d have to be blind to miss it. Their footsteps approached the bedroom. She turned around just as she sensed their presence in the doorway.
“What kept you?” she asked, making sure they got a good glimpse of both her stockinged leg and what she wasn’t wearing beneath it. Might as well give it her best shot.
“Fucking hell!” Mikael breathed.
“What’s all this?” Philo asked at the same time.
Layla, empowered by their stunned expressions of obvious approval, fluttered her newly curled lashes at them.
“I rather wondered if there was anything I could do to persuade you two gorgeous gentlemen to marry me,” she said.
Chapter Thirteen
Mikael took a moment to recover from the shock of seeing her dressed like she’d just stepped out of his wildest fantasy. God, but she was beautiful! Smart, sexy, funny, kind…hell, his cock throbbed just from looking at her. He’d been trying to avoid her, hoping Amy would soon be well enough to leave so he could get over her and do what he could to get back to normal. So much for that plan. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
“Fuck’s the right word, buddy,”
Philo pheromoned smugly.
“Some blabbermouth has told her what she can do for me. Now she feels duty bound.”
Mikael shook his head.
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
“Say it often enough and you might even start believing it.”
“Who have you been talking to?” Mikael asked, taking a reluctant step toward her because he couldn’t seem to make his feet move in any other direction.
“Does it matter?” It was her turn to move one step closer. “You should have told me yourself.”
“Yeah, he should.” Philo growled. “I kept telling him that.”
Mikael smiled at her, lost in the erotic fantasies engendered by her outfit and the body it showcased. “You’re overwrought because of Amy. You don’t know your own mind. You don’t know how tough it can be for an outsider to live here in Impulse.”
“As far as I can tell, it means I get to live with you two guys for the rest of my days.” She ran the tip of her tongue across her glossy lips. “I figure I can be a freelance journalist here just as well as anyplace else.”
“The
Impulse Weekly
could do with a makeover,” Philo said, ignored the warning glare that Mikael threw his way. “The editor’s a leopard, but he’s getting on a bit and no longer has his paw on the pulse.”
“Sounds ideal. And Amy could go to school right here in Impulse.” She paused. “I assume you don’t mind taking on my daughter as well as me?”
“Not in the least,” Philo said.
Mikael remained stoically silent.
“As for my mom, she can marry her gentleman friend at last, free from all responsibility for Amy and me.” She shrugged. “Seems like a pretty good deal to me.”
“You make it sound picture-book perfect,” Mikael said, “but the reality of living with shifters would be better compared to a horror movie.”
“Will you please stop telling me that I’m incapable of knowing my own mind!” Layla cried passionately. “The moment I arrived in Impulse and met you guys I
knew
at once there was a connection between us, even when you were being shitty toward me, Mikael. I felt it, and I’m pretty sure the two of you did as well.”
Philo chuckled. “She’s got you there, buddy.”
They both ignored him.
“Well, Dr. Cool Who Always Knows Best,” she demanded. “Are you gonna try and deny that you didn’t feel it, too?”
“A connection isn’t enough.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Layla swirled around and threw her hands in the air, unintentionally giving them an even better view of the basque and stockings. She noticed both guys’ gazes glued to the show and didn’t try to cover up. “I love you both, and I want to commit myself to living with you for the rest of my days. It has absolutely nothing to do with what you did for Amy, and everything to do with what I feel in here.” She thumped the left side of her chest with her clenched fist. “There, I’ve said it, but if it’s not enough for you, if you think I’m playacting, then I’ll walk out right now and we need never mention the subject again.”
Mikael felt his heart, and his resistance, melting away. “Baby, I know you think that now, but—”