Billionaires for Charity: Part Two (Menage Romance Serial)
BILLIONAIRES FOR CHARITY: PART TWO
Marie Carnay
Copyright
Copyright © 2015 by Marie Carnay. Cover and internal design © by Marie Carnay. Cover image copyright © Period Images, 2015.
All rights reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The use of stock photo images in this e-book in no way imply that the models depicted personally endorse, condone, or engage in the fictional conduct described herein, expressly or by implication. The person(s) depicted are models and are used for illustrative purposes only.
This book is for sale to mature, adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit situations and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store this e-book where it cannot be accessed by minors.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title and Copyright
Billionaires for Charity: Part Two
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
About Marie
BILLIONAIRES FOR CHARITY
Part Two of a three-part BBW ménage serial
by Marie Carnay
Two billionaires, one curvy woman, and a charity date auction. There’s no upper limit when you’re bidding on love.
Winston and I run one of the top hedge funds in the world. I can have anything money can buy. And tonight, it’s a date with the sexy brunette showing off her curves on stage. Miranda’s everything I want in a woman—sexy, confident, natural. The only problem? Winston wants her too. Thank god I’ve learned how to share.
James and Winston. Billionaires, winning bidders, sex gods. Two men I never expected to meet, let alone fall for. But when they sweep me off my feet, I can’t help it. I’m smitten. Can I give two men my heart? Or will I end up ripped in two and all alone?
Part Two of a three-part ménage serial full of steamy scenes featuring two sinful billionaires and one curvy woman. Intended for adult audiences only. Cliffhanger ending. You’ve been warned!
Part Three is available now!
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CHAPTER ONE
“I NEED A drink. Don’t morning shows know guests need a drink? I swear there’s always a segment with alcohol on The Today Show.”
Dawn gave Miranda’s arm a squeeze. “I should have smuggled in some vodka in a water bottle. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Miranda blew out a puff of air and flicked her high heel back and forth. After Dawn had called and begged her to come on the show, she’s spent the rest of Sunday working herself up into a tizzy. She couldn’t decide whether to go through with it or not. It would help Manhattan Paws, but after the money James and Winston plunked down at the auction, did her best friend really need it?
At the same time, it gave her a chance to see them again. She knew they weren’t interested—they’d made that clear enough—but her belly flipped and her cheeks flushed remembering Saturday night. How both men played off each other, pleasuring her over and over. They’d given her everything she never knew she wanted and then some.
She took a sip of water and glanced up at Dawn. Agreeing to come was the best thing for everyone. She could help her best friend, say goodbye, and put the best sex of her life behind her. “You think they’ll ask anything personal?”
“Probably. But you don’t have anything to hide.” Dawn raised an eyebrow. “You don’t do you?”
“Um…”
“Oh!” Dawn clapped her hands together and grinned. “You mean are they going to ask if you slept with them!”
“Shhh!”
“What? Who cares? You’ve never been one to keep that stuff in the closet.”
“That’s because up until now, everything I’ve done has been boring.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “A threesome with two billionaires isn’t boring!”
“I know! It’s great!”
“You aren’t helping.”
Dawn smiled. “Sorry. It’s just—you need to relax. So what if they ask some salacious questions? Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. Being herself is what made her sneak out of Winston’s apartment and wash down a pint of ice cream with a bottle of wine. It didn’t give her poise or confidence in front of a TV camera. She needed magic for that.
As she reached for a water, the green room door opened. A cute young woman with pixie hair and penciled-on eyebrows stuck her head inside. “Ms. Holmes? Hi…I’m Mandy. I’m here for hair and makeup?”
Miranda glanced at Dawn, but her best friend just shrugged. “Um…okay. Is that…standard? I mean, I thought this was an interview. I’m surprised the show would spring for that.”
“Oh, I’m not with the show. Mr. Stone sent me over.”
Miranda frowned. “Winston hired hair and makeup for me?”
“Not exactly. I’m his stylist. Whenever he has an event, I do his hair, fix his suit, that sort of thing. Since I was here, he told me to come check on you.”
Wow. Considering she’d run out on them, Winston was being…nice. But the thought of accepting anything else from him—and on the morning of their interview. Did he think he could buy her answers? “Thanks, but I’m sure you have your hands full with him, you don’t need to worry about me too.”
Mandy bit her lip. “To be honest, I don’t really do anything for him. I mean, what do you do with straight brown hair other than comb it and slap in some gel? It’d be fun to help out a woman for a change. I love eyeliner.”
“I do too. But I don’t think—”
Dawn elbowed her in the ribs. “Oh, go ahead. What will it hurt?”
Miranda hesitated. “I’ve already done my makeup. Do you really think I need more? ”
“Oh, I’ll just touch it up. Bring out the green in your eyes. Make them pop like your dress.”
Miranda looked down at the green fabric and back up at the stylist. “You can do that?”
“Of course! You’re gorgeous, it won’t take much. But TV lights wash you out. Everyone wears a ton more makeup than you’d ever guess watching from home.”
She looked so eager, standing there with her makeup case and a hopeful little grin. Miranda didn’t want to disappoint her. “Oh, okay. Come on in. But I want to look natural. Just…better. Can you do that?”
Mandy lit up and hopped into the room. “Definitely. I love that look.”
“This is a terrible idea.” James paced back and forth, wearing a divot into the green room carpet.
“You’re the one that agreed to it.”
“It was a moment of weakness. You should have talked me out of it.”
Winston stretched like a cat and shrugged. “Loosen up. It’ll be fun. We’ll plug WaterStone, talk about how generous and charitable we are. Watch the new money roll in.”
James frowned. Leave it to Winston to turn an interview about a fundraiser into an opportunity to flaunt his success. He might be his closest friend, his business partner, and the man he’d shared an incredible woman with, but sometimes he thoroughly pissed him off. “So that’s all this is to you? Miranda’s what? A fling?”
Winston glanced up and James blinked. No amount of showboating could hide the reg
ret in his partner’s eyes. “It has to be.”
“Why? Saturday night was…”
“Incredible.”
James nodded. “She fits us, Winston. Both of us. I say we give it a chance.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think. We’re at the top of our game, James. We control more money than most people even dream of.”
“Your point?”
“Jeopardizing that based on a single night is foolish. And beneath you.”
With a huff, James turned around. He’d never fit the billionaire mold. Not like Winston. He could wield the power, earn the respect. But the cold indifference? He didn’t have it.
When he’d woken up Saturday night to find Miranda gone and Winston snoring, he’d been stunned. He knew they’d pushed her—making her come in the back of the limo, on the bed, all over both of them. Fuck. Sinking balls-deep into her slick heat.
But something about all three of them together—it made him forget who he was and what he had to lose. All he wanted was another hit of that bliss. A single caress of her skin, a thrust of his hips. Winston’s cock down her throat. Piss. He needed to rein it in.
When Dawn had called, begging for them to do the interview, he’d seized the opportunity. A chance to see Miranda face-to-face. Her green eyes lighting up when she smiled, that sexy hourglass figure, lips he hadn’t kissed nearly enough.
But standing there watching Winston lounge on the couch…It soured everything. “Don’t put her down to fluff your feathers. If they ask about the date, stick to the golf course. Not your apartment.”
“What? You don’t want me talking about hot, kinky sex in front of the whole city? Why James, I’m shocked.”
“I mean it, Win. I don’t think Miranda’s interested in being famous. Don’t make her uncomfortable.”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, James. She’s the one who left in the middle of the night, remember? She’s not interested. Play it cool, follow my lead, and we’ll own it.”
Fucking hell. “I’m my own man, Winston. I don’t follow anyone.”
“Could have fooled me Saturday night.”
His partner smirked and James wanted to punch the smug grin right off his face. “And what about you? Swooping in, betting against me when you had no intention of dating her again. All I see is an asshole in an overpriced suit.”
“Don’t go there, partner. You know I’m only looking out for the firm.”
“No. You’re looking out for your ego.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?”
James ground his teeth together and clenched his fist. He hadn’t argued with Winston like this in years. Not since before the partnership. If one night with Miranda did this, they’d never survive dating her.
As he glowered at Winston, a knock sounded on the green room door. It swung open and a middle aged man in khakis and a polo stepped in. “Gentlemen? Are you ready? You’re on in ten.”
“I was born ready.” Winston stood up and held out his hand. “Winston Stone.”
“Michael Andrews. I’m the producer this morning. Pleased to meet you.” He turned to James and they shook hands.
“James Waters.”
“Excellent. If you follow me, we’ll get you miked up and ready.”
A few minutes later, and James sat down on the couch, microphone on his lapel and anxiety in his gut. Winston sat next to him, draping his arm over the back and resting his ankle on his knee. Relaxed and arrogant. Just like always.
As James closed his eyes and inhaled, Winston elbowed him in the ribs. “Look alive. The reporter’s coming. If we play this right, we’ll have more clients than we know what to do with.”
James sat up and managed a smile as a woman in a gray gabardine suit and black pumps stepped onto the raised set. She stuck out her hand and James took it. “Rebecca Gilroy, I’ll be conducting the interview this morning.”
“James Waters.” He let her hand go and she turned to Winston.
“Winston Stone, it’s a pleasure.”
She sat in the empty chair and smoothed her skirt before glancing up at the two men. “Showtime.”
“And we’re on in five, four, three…”
A camera-ready smile popped on the woman’s face and a wave of anxiety churned in James’s gut. They’d be lucky if the interview weren’t a disaster.
“Good morning, New York. I’m here with two of the most eligible bachelors in the city, James Waters and Winston Stone of WaterStone Investments. If you’re not one of the wealthiest people in the world, you may not know these two gentlemen. But combined, their hedge fund manages the wealth of the top of the top.” She turned to Winston and smiled. “Just how much money do you handle, Mr. Stone?”
“All of our funds combined? Let’s just say it’s more money than most people dream of.”
“Billions?”
“Of course.”
The reporter smiled and turned to James. “Mr. Waters, the pair of you have been the talk of New York social circles this weekend with your appearance at a charity benefit Friday night. Care to tell us about it?”
James nodded and gave the camera a smile. “We’ve always had a soft spot for animals. And when we heard about the date auction to benefit a local shelter here in Manhattan, we decided to attend.”
“You didn’t just show up, though, did you? You ended up in a bidding war with your partner over a certain date.”
Winston glanced at James and sat a little taller. “What can I say? Neither one of us can stand to lose.”
“That’s an understatement, isn’t it? Your winning bid—two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, in case those watching don’t know—is the highest price ever paid at one of these events here in the city.”
“I had no idea.”
“Well, in a few moments, we’ll bring out the lucky lady, but first I have to ask, what’s so special about her? Why not just bid on two women?”
Winston shrugged. “She’s stunning for one. And we happened to spot her at the same time. I’m not the surrendering type. Neither is James.”
“So it was just a competition?”
Both men answered. “No.”
“Then why the high bid? Why not just agree to say, five thousand? I’m sure the shelter would have welcomed that sort of donation.”
James raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting we should have donated less? Everyone knows we have more than enough money to give what we did. And we’re happy to support such a worthy cause.”
“Gentlemen, come now. You could have done that without the auction. But you chose to make a scene and bid on a single woman. My sources say the entire auction ground to a halt, all eyes on you. Is that why you did it? For the notoriety?”
He bristled and glanced at Winston. If the reporter kept going down the rabbit hole, he’d have to end it. No way were they dragging Miranda into some tawdry mud on live TV. As he tried to come up with a way to shut her down, Winston spoke up.
“Ms. Gilroy, you know as well as I do that any press we’ve gotten from the auction is irrelevant. We don’t need a local television show to inflate our egos. We’re already billionaires. I think that’s sufficient.”
James bit on his cheek to keep from laughing. He had to give it Winston, the reporter looked like she swallowed a grape. But they still had to finish the spot.
She recovered and gave him a smile. “Point taken. But I’m sure our viewers are dying to know, just what did you expect to get out of your winning bid?”
It was Winston’s turn to look shocked. “A date. That’s all.”
She leaned back and feigned surprise. “You’re telling me you paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and all you expected was a date? That’s hard to believe.”
James bristled. “You can believe whatever you want. It’s the truth.”
“Well, how about we bring out your date and see what she has to say about the whole thing. Shall we?”
As James and Winston looked up, Miranda stepped onto the set. Christ
. She was stunning. Hair pulled back off her face, glossy pink lips, eyes rimmed in gray. Sophisticated green dress that matched her eyes. James swallowed and scooted over on the couch.
They didn’t deserve her.
“Ms. Holmes, welcome. Please, have a seat.”
Miranda smiled at the woman and glanced at the couch. Leave it to a reporter to make her sit in the middle. James in a navy suit, blue dress shirt open at the collar. Handsome and rugged and scooting over to give her room. And Winston—the quintessential city man with a grin on his face as big as his head. It’s only a few minutes. Then it’ll be over.
With a deep breath, she stepped up, turned around, and planted her ass smack in between them. Not awkward. Not at all.
“So, we’ve been discussing the outrageous sum these two gentlemen plunked down at the auction for a date with you. Tell us, what did you think?”
Miranda swallowed. I can do this. “You mean during the bidding?”
“Yes.”
“Well, honestly? Shock. Surprise. Doubt. I thought maybe it was all a big joke.”
“But it wasn’t?”
“No. They really wired the money. Dawn—I mean Ms. Mackenzie—got the funds this morning.”
The reporter smiled and Miranda’s stomach flipped. Shit. “So you’ve gone out on the date, then? Tell me, how was it?”
“Oh, um…great. We went mini-golfing.”
“All three of you? Did you have a good time?”
“Yes. I did. I mean, they’re competitive, so there was a bit of tension when either one was losing, but I had a great time.”
She shifted on the seat and glanced up at James. He met her gaze and all the passion and pleasure he’d given her glinted in his blue eyes. Damn. Focus, Miranda.
“So, was that it? You went mini-golfing and they dropped you at home? No fancy dinner? No drinks?”
Miranda bit her lip. “Um…I…” As she scrambled for something to say, color rose up her cheeks. Damn it. Why aren’t I a better liar?
“I don’t think what we did on our date is any of your business, frankly.” James leveled his gaze on the reporter and Miranda thanked him silently. She’d never been good on the spot.