Billionaires for Charity: Part Two (Menage Romance Serial) Page 4

  Miranda stood up on shaky legs and obeyed, bending over and clasping the back of the couch. Foil tore and a second later he grabbed her by the hips, holding her steady as he reached forward and unclasped her bra. It fell off her and her breasts swayed as he lined his cock up just right.

  With a grunt and dig of his fingers, he thrust, slicing through her channel in a single stroke. Her body enveloped him, gripping tight as he sunk deep. Oh, god. He bottomed out, hips grinding against her swollen ass, and she groaned.

  “Do it, Winston. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

  He pulled back and thrust again, faster, harder, deeper. Over and over he pumped, filling her up, making her moan. Her nails dug into the couch cushions, her legs shook beneath her, and if he hadn’t been holding her hips, she’d have collapsed. But she couldn’t get enough.

  She rocked her hips back to slam against him as he sunk balls-deep. Their bodies slapped against each other with every stroke—a wanton, reckless applause for their passion. James connected with her emotions—tapping into the sensual, needy side of her. But Winston brought out the animal.

  She let out a keening moan and he slipped his hand around her hip and between her folds, seeking out her hidden clit. As he found it, she cried out and arched into him, bucking and thrashing beneath him like a wild colt. But Winston held on. Pounding her from behind, rubbing her clit from the front, ripping the breath right out of her body.

  His cock hardened inside her and he thrust a final time, letting go of her hips to reach up and pinch her breasts. She came instantly, flooding his cock with her own juices, gripping and squeezing his shaft until he came with her.

  The whole world was engulfed in pleasure. Miranda radiated it, her orgasm spreading into every hidden corner of her body. Spilling out of her fingers and toes, seeping down her leg in sticky satisfaction. As Winston groaned and wrapped his body around her, she gave in. The delirium took over and she sagged against his arms.

  “God, you’re amazing, Miranda.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Whatever you say…” She trailed off and in moments she was weightless and in his arms. “Put me down! You shouldn’t carry me!”

  “Why not?” He walked down the hall and pushed open her bedroom door. “Lucky me, I guessed right.” He set her on the bed and stood back up, taking in the sight of her naked body. She blushed and he climbed over her, slipping the sheets up over them both.

  He stroked her body, hand running up and down as she relaxed into semi-consciousness. A few minutes later and he spoke up. “I should go.”

  Miranda pouted. “When can I see you again?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been neglecting the firm and I need to get back to it. How about Friday? We do a happy hour. You can come, I can show you off.”

  Miranda groaned. “James already invited me. Said the same thing.”

  Winston smiled back. “Then we’ll both show you off. What do you say?”

  “You don’t think that’s a bad idea?”

  “Why? It’s our company. We can do whatever the hell we like.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.” He slipped off the bed and kissed her on the forehead. “You stay here, rest. You’ve had a long day.” He grinned and she swatted him on the arm.

  “You’re terrible.”

  “And you’re magnificent. See you Friday?”

  Butterflies batted around inside Miranda’s belly, but she nodded. Going to their work was a huge step. And she didn’t think it would be as carefree as either man made it out to be. But she wasn’t turning them down. Not now. “I’ll be there.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “IT’S BEEN WHAT, three days?”

  “Four, if you count today.” Miranda looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. “Does this say office happy hour?”

  “You look great. Stop worrying.”

  “I can’t help it. I’ve spent the entire week talking myself out of, and back into, this whole thing. I can’t believe I’m even considering it.”

  “Considering what? Dating two men?”

  Miranda glanced over at her best friend. She was sprawled out on Miranda’s bed in a sea of discarded clothes. They were about the same size, but Dawn never seemed to let it bother her. Or give her doubts. “Don’t you think they’ll get over me soon? Find a supermodel?”

  “Oh, come on. You know men like a little meat to squeeze. And you’ve slept with them. Twice! From what you said, they aren’t faking it.”

  Miranda blushed. “You have a point. But their happy hour? With their employees? It’ll be awkward.”

  “No. It’ll be awesome. Two men parading you around like a trophy. I’m totally jealous.”

  “You’ve dated way more guys than me.”

  “I know. But never two at once!”

  She was shocked Dawn was jealous. The woman never had trouble finding a date. “You should have put yourself in the auction, then. And it’d be you wondering if this dress makes you look dumpy instead of me.” Miranda tugged on the tie and frowned. “Should I even be wearing another wrap dress? I already wore the green one for the interview.”

  “You mean the ambush? Pfft. Who cares. Besides, plenty of women wear them every day. This one brings out the red in your hair. It’s perfect.”

  “If you say so.” Miranda looked in the mirror again. Hair curled, makeup done, heels on. Ready on the outside and a total mess on the inside. “Maybe I should cancel. Say I have the flu.”

  Dawn grabbed a sock and threw it at her. “You’ll do no such thing. Go. Enjoy yourself. Drink expensive wine, check out their office, meet new people. It’ll be fun.”

  “It’ll be nerve-wracking. But wine will help. Wine always helps.” She turned away from the mirror and bit her lip. “Thanks for putting me in the auction. If it weren’t for you, I’d be stressing over which Lean Cuisine to heat up tonight, not which dress to wear to a hedge fund happy hour.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You don’t think that’s all it’s about, do you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Winning me. I wonder if inviting me to happy hour isn’t just what you said—a chance to parade around their prize in front of everyone.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s their office, not an award ceremony.”

  Miranda smiled at Dawn in the mirror, but the nagging doubts remained. “I guess you’re right.”

  “Damn straight I am. Now get out of here before they think you’ve stood them up.”

  “Stop fucking about, Winston, and get your head in the game.” James dropped the sheaf of papers on the desk and glared. Their second investor in a week had called, demanding redemption of all their capital without an explanation. That never happened.

  If a prior employee or competitor were out spreading misinformation, they needed to nip it in the bud before more clients followed suit. Unfortunately, maintaining the clientele was Winston’s area, not his. But James’s partner didn’t seem interested.

  “So two clients have pitched a fit. So what? Neither Mercado nor Burlington has significant assets with us, anyway. We’d never bring them on today.”

  “But they’ve been with us for years. They’re loyal. Steadfast. If they’re leaving, it’s a sign. Something’s up.”

  Winston rolled his eyes. “The only thing up around here is your feathers. The business is fine.” He leaned back in his chair and grabbed a stress ball off the desk, throwing it up in the air and catching it as James fumed.

  Damn him for not taking it seriously. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’re too busy screwing someone to pay attention to work.”

  Winston caught the ball and shrugged. “Well, you know exactly who I’m screwing, James, and how often. I haven’t seen her since Monday. Neither have you.”

  “Then there’s no reason for you to be blowing this off. There’s got to be someone out there bad mouthing us.”

  “If you’re so concerned about it, call up Mercado and ask him.”

  “Tha
t’s unprofessional and you know it.”

  “No. What I know, is that you’re pissy Miranda didn’t choose you. And you’re using these petty withdrawals as an excuse to lash out.”

  “If you weren’t thinking with your dick, you’d see the problem.”

  “If you conceded defeat and let me have her, you wouldn’t be blowing this out of proportion.”

  “That’s not what this is about.”

  “Oh, really? You can honestly sit there and tell me you’re not mad I haven’t given up and let you win?”

  “It isn’t about winning. She’s not a prize.” James closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. How could he tell his partner that it went beyond Miranda? That he couldn’t get over the night they all shared? She was incredible in and out of bed. But the three of them together—it was something he couldn’t put into words.

  “Fine.” Winston sighed and James opened his eyes. “If you’re that concerned, I’ll poke around. See what I can find out.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

  Winston sat up and set the ball on the desk. “I didn’t realize you were so stressed out. Are you sleeping? You look tired.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It shows, huh? Between Miranda and these withdrawals, I’m on edge. Sorry I snapped at you.”

  “For what it’s worth, I can tell she’s hung up on you.”

  James shrugged. “You too, I think.”

  Winston stood. “Then we shouldn’t keep her waiting. I’m stopping by my office and heading over.”

  “Sounds good.” James pushed back from the desk and followed his partner down the hall. He needed to shove his worries about the business to the side and focus on their date. And a stiff drink.

  Oh my god, this is so awkward. Miranda stood just inside the door, watching a bunch of men in suits clap each other on the back and drink beer. Engineering was a male-dominated field and she could walk into a sea of them at a conference and never waiver. But the men she dealt with weren’t wolves of Wall Street. They were awkward and nerdy and no more intimidating than a house cat. Shit, she’d even made Milton sniffle.

  The men in front of her would never sniffle. With a brave smile, she walked toward the pack and eased up to the bar. “White wine, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  In moments, the bartender slid a glass of wine over and Miranda snatched it. She took a sip and closed her eyes. I can do this.

  “Hey beautiful.”

  Miranda popped her eyes open to see a man smiling at her. Short blonde hair, blue eyes, flashy watch and an overpriced suit. Great. “Hi.”

  “So are you Raymond’s new hire? The man can’t help but go for a skirt.”

  She stifled the urge to roll her eyes. “No, sorry. Not me.”

  “Mmm.” The man angled his body toward her as he leaned on the bar. “Another beer, please, Dave.” He looked her up and down and pointed. “Don’t tell me you’re Dillon’s new secretary. He said you were hot, but I didn’t think he actually meant it. He’s got taste for shit.”

  Miranda inhaled and wrinkled her nose. She swore she could smell his arrogance. If this were what bankers and hedge fund analysts were like, she wouldn’t be showing up at any more happy hours. “I don’t work here.”

  As the jerk opened his mouth to respond, another suit slid up to the bar and punched him in the arm. “Jackson, you idiot. That’s the chick from the auction. Don’t you watch TV?”

  “No. I work. More than I can say for you. Your numbers are in the fuckin’ toilet this quarter.”

  The other man held out his hand. “Dillon Martin. Pleased to meet you. Miranda, right?”

  She smiled and shook his hand. “Yes.”

  “This idiot is Jackson Tunstall. He’s good with money, but sucks with women. It’s why you’re still single, right man?”

  “I’ll have you know I’m doing just fine in that department.” Jackson turned toward Miranda and motioned with his beer. “So, how am I supposed to know you?”

  “Because she’s our guest.” James stepped up and planted a kiss on her temple and the men in front of her straightened up.

  “Mr. Waters, hello, sir.” Jackson gave him a suck-up smile and Miranda bit her cheek to keep from laughing. Even James cracked a grin.

  “I see you’ve met one of our more…spirited analysts. We don’t usually let Jackson out to socialize with clients. You can understand why.”

  Jackson’s eyes bulged. “If you’ll excuse me.” He grabbed his fresh beer and backed away, easing into another conversation as James turned to Dillon.

  “Good to see you, Dillon.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Waters.”

  “You have any success finessing your model, yet? It should have been ready yesterday.”

  “Still working on it, sir.”

  James raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”

  Dillon blanched and nodded. “My apologies. I’ll get back on it right now. Miranda, nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” She gave him a wave as he turned and rushed out the door. “Wow. You don’t hold back, do you?”

  “I didn’t get where I am by being nice. It’s a privilege to work here. I’ve made those two millionaires. I expect excellence in return.”

  Miranda blinked. Those two were millionaires? I work in the wrong field. “Point taken. So where’s Winston? I thought he was coming?”

  James stiffened but gave her a small smile. “He should be here any minute. Come, I have people I’d like you to meet.”

  He steered her toward a group of suits and before she knew it, she was shaking hands and nodding and trying to stay alert. Over the next hour, James propelled her through the whole room with his hand on the small of her back and an introduction on his lips. His employees’ names and faces blended into pinstripes and paisley and she found herself smiling and bobbing like a puppet on strings.

  If this was what Dawn meant about being a trophy, Miranda wasn’t interested. She’d rather curl up on the couch with a bottle of wine and a bad movie. Did billionaires even do that? James seemed perfectly at home. Chatting with his employees, circling the room. For all that he claimed to be behind the scenes, he sure knew how to work a room.

  She needed a break. After finishing her second glass of wine, Miranda leaned toward James and whispered in his ear. “Any chance there’s a restroom around here?”

  James chuckled. “Of course. Just out the room and to the left.”

  “Great. I’ll be right back.”

  She excused herself from the group and hustled to the bathroom. Swank and posh, with marble everywhere, the restroom had individual stalls with floor-to-ceiling doors. Thank god, I can be alone. She stepped into a stall and locked it. This isn’t that bad. It’s just like a convention mixer. Smile, drink wine. In a few hours it would be over, and she’d be back home. Hopefully not alone.

  A deep breath or two and she was ready. As she turned the lock to leave, multiple sets of heels clacked into the bathroom.

  “—know what he sees in her.”

  “Tell me about it. Jackson said he’s in there showing her off like she’s a prize he won.”

  “God. He could have the pick of any woman in Manhattan and he picks one the size of Montana? It’s embarrassing.”

  “Not to mention insulting to the rest of us. I swear I hit on him for a year and all I got was a nod and the cold shoulder.”

  “I thought he went for secretaries?”

  “I heard that too. That’s why I tried so hard. I guess I should have put on twenty pounds.”

  “And gotten terrible hair!”

  The two women cackled and Miranda closed her eyes. They can’t be talking about me. They can’t.

  “You know what’s worse? I heard it’s a competition. They’re just trying to one up each other.”

  “Like at the auction? I mean come on. Two hundred and fifty k? I sure hope they got their money worth.”

  The women laughed and the faucet turned
on. No doubt about it, they were talking about her. And airing all the fears and doubts she’d been keeping bottled inside. Was that all she was? A competition? An overpriced pissing contest between two billionaires?

  She thought about James taking her up on the mountain and showing her all of New York. Winston bringing her a cupcake just because. That couldn’t be fake, could it? You can’t make up that sort of thoughtfulness. Damn it. She should go. Make an excuse and leave before she embarrassed herself anymore than she already had.

  The women walked out of the bathroom and after a minute, Miranda slinked out of the stall, washed her hands, and snuck out the bathroom door. Navigating through hallways with empty offices, she made her way back to the elevators and pushed the button.

  “Hey, gorgeous, what are you doing out here?”

  Shit. She put on a smile and turned around. “Winston, hello.”

  “Whoa, hey, is something wrong? You look upset.”

  “No, nothing’s wrong. I just—I don’t think I belong here. I’m going home.” She turned back toward the elevator and hit the button. Come on.

  Winston stepped up to her and she stared straight ahead. If I don’t look at him, I won’t lose my resolve.

  He reached out and stroked her arm. “Don’t leave. I was just about to join the party. It won’t be any fun without you.”

  She shivered and pulled her arm away. “You won’t be missing anything if I leave. Trust me.”

  “I can think of a million things I’ll miss. Those sexy green eyes for one. And your luscious, pink lips. Mmm. And all that sinful, creamy skin. There are three things right there. Should I go on?”

  Miranda bit her lip to keep from grinning. Part of her still doubted any of it was real. But the other part never wanted him to stop. “Maybe a little.”

  He inched closer and she could smell his cologne. Citrus and spice and a hint of musk. She breathed it in and swayed.

  “How about how I can’t wait to dip my tongue inside your pink folds and lap up all your sweet juices?” Winston reached out and pushed her hair off her neck. “How I want to take you to my office and bend you over my desk and fuck you ’til you can’t stand?”