Page 58 of Sincerely, Butterfly

I fight the urge to react, to turn my head and say something, or even better, bash her pretty face into a tombstone.

I know my guys haven’t slept with any of these women before, you need to be a virgin to participate. But I’m sure they’ve tried in the past with no success.

Why do they have to be some of the biggest manwhores I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing?

I need to not dwell on that right now because soon they will realize that these other women will never be good enough for them.

But I can. I will be.

These women won’t take the time or put in the hard work to show them, to prove that they are the right woman to handle anything the guys throw at them without breaking.

But I will.

Ignoring the women around me, I keep my full attention on the guys. Every move they make is captivating. They carry themselves like the kings that they are.

As they stop just a few feet away from us, a feeling of exhilaration flushes through me.

The fact that we’ve hardly spoken since we were kids doesn't change the feelings they invoke in me.

There’s something about them that calls to me, like some sort of divine intervention in my life.

For a good long minute, they just stand there, staring, watching, observing.

I try not to let my nerves get the better of me, but the longer the seconds tick by, the more I fear that this isn’t going to go the way I want. And the idea of one of these girls being chosen has me simmering with a rage that I only seem to have when it comes to these three.

Finally, they move, making their way down to the other end of the line. Ever so slowly, they walk past each and every girl, their gazes never wavering.

My eyes flick between the three of them, wondering who is who under each of those masks.

The ground seems to be uneven, so it’s hard to tell, but Wesley is slightly taller than the other two by about an inch. Still, they all stand over six feet, towering over us all like gods.

In a sense, I guess that's what they are. At least in our world.

When they come to a stop in front of me, I hold my breath, trying not to do anything that could give away my identity.

I resist the urge to fidget under their stare. Now is not the time to let my brain turn to mush. The whole point is for them not to know it’s me. If I start blubbing like an idiot, tripping over my own words, I’ll give myself away so damn fast.

Taking a step forward, they all crowd around me, cocking their heads to the side as they observe me closer, like they don’t seem to know what to make of me.

It’s looking like my choice in clothing was a good idea. Even with the bunny mask, I give off more of a pure, virginal vibe than the rest of the girls.

They take a step back from me, and a flicker of panic arises.

No. Fuck. They can’t pick one of them. I won’t allow it. It has to be me. They need to pick me. I need to show them, to show myself, that I can be who they need me to be. I can be the dark queen who tames their tainted souls. I just need a chance.

I cast my eyes to the ground, not wanting to admit defeat, but unless I cause a scene, I might have to accept that tonight isn’t my night.

I was so fucking close. Of course, they would look over me. I’m not the kind of girl they normally go for. I don’t have massive breasts and killer legs. I’m short, petite, nothing special.

When a hand grips my chin, I suck in a soft, shaky breath. My eyes widen in shock as they force me to look at them, snapping me out of my momentary pity party.

The middle one, who’s grasping my chin, tilts his head to theother side. I swear I can feel him smile, and a low whisky-smooth voice chuckles softly.

My nipples pebble against my bra as heat licks my core. To be touched by one of them, even a touch as simple as this, feels like heaven.

The one on the left reaches out, grasping my arm and pulling me forward.

I let out a small sound as I nearly stumble over my own feet. He catches me just before I crash into his chest. His large arm wraps around me, holding me to his body.