ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories) (17 page)

The next morning, she woke and was worried that he wouldn’t be beside her. Claire’s chest tightened when she rolled over and expected to see nothing, but she was shocked to find that he was already awake and propped up on one elbow as he stared at her. “Good morning,” he told her in his deep, sultry voice.

“Good morning,” she responded as she tried not to sound like a meek mouse. She’d done it. She’d had a one-night stand and it had been the best sex of her life. It’s not a one-night stand until he leaves and never calls you, she thought to herself. Claire felt a pang of regret that he might do just that.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to go out?” he asked her as he slid closer to her in bed. Claire could feel the heat radiating off him and shook her head as she snuggled back under the covers. James slid his hand up her thigh hesitantly and planted it on her hip. “Do you want something else?” he asked her teasingly as his thumb made little circles on her dark flesh.

“Maybe,” she shot back at him with humor in her voice. James let his hand slide down so that his knuckles were resting against her already warm, waiting pussy and she shivered at the blatant touch. “James,” she whispered as he shifted closer under the covers. She could feel the hard length of him up at her leg and shivered with anticipation.

Claire felt her pussy tightening with the thought of how he had taken her so fully the previous night. He had behaved as if she was his, and she marveled that she’d never felt that with another man before. He had come across as dangerous to her, and now she knew why. What made James dangerous was how much she wanted him. How much she had wanted him the night before when she’d caught sight of him looking her over in the bar mirror, and how he had made her want him in just the span of a few minutes.

He’d had her the moment they’d locked gazes, and she’d been denying it the entire night.

“Wait,” she told him and recalled what that had gotten her the night before. She was primed and ready for him, but he waited nonetheless.

“I know you’re not wearing boob tape this time,” he whispered to her with a grin. Claire felt a smile blooming as she looked down at his chest to avoid his gaze. “What is it?”

She hesitated and he let out a small growl of frustration. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think I really want this to be a one night stand kind of thing, you know?”

James pulled back immediately and she felt a sharp cold where his warmth had been. Ugh, why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut until we were done having morning sex? She grumped mentally as she looked up to peak at his expression. She was a little shocked to see he was bemused.

“Did you really think I would have stayed the night if I wasn’t planning on pursuing you further, Claire?” She didn’t know what to say to that so she kept her mouth shut. “Tonight, I’m going to take you out on a proper date. One that doesn’t involve the two of us chatting at my club while I’m supposed to be mingling with other guests and seeing if everyone is having a good time.”

Her brows furrowed at his words and he chuckled at her confusion. “You own Nostalgia?” She couldn’t believe what he was saying. She’d slept with a nightclub owner?

“Yes and many others. I wasn’t going to tell you last night because I didn’t know if you really wanted me or if you were interested in money. When you were shocked about my car, I knew you didn’t know. Does this change things?” He looked worried by her indecipherable expression. Claire was just staring at him with her amber colored eyes and James wondered if she were listening to anything he’d said.

“You’re not some kind of drug lord, right?” she asked seriously as she looked at him. James looked at her disbelievingly for a heartbeat and then he laughed. It was a deep, from the soul laugh that had her smiling when he looked back down at her.

“No, I’m not a big fan of drugs. In fact, my clubs are like what you saw last night. They’re not your usual type,” he told her as he shifted closer to her. James pulled her to his chest and she listened to his heartbeat.

“Tell me about them, then,” she demanded of him. She’d told him everything about herself the night before, even the part about Eric Slate, but that had only been a few sentences. Claire wanted to know about this mysterious man that had swooped into her life in the course of a few hours and made her feel a little something for him.

James told her about his two clubs in Paris that were themed after important historic times for France, and then he told her about the club in L.A. that was modeled after the ones the mobsters were known for frequenting. Claire listened in rapt silence as he talked about the joys and pitfalls of owning clubs. The way he talked about it convinced her he enjoyed it not for the money, but because he got to create something people could enjoy and marvel over.

When he was done talking, they lay in silence for a few moments as each of them processed the information he’d spewed. “Do you want breakfast?” James whispered as he stroked her hair.

“I’d like that,” Claire told him as she slid on top of him and felt his hard cock against her thigh. He stirred beneath her and pulled her up on top of him, and when they were finished, they ate breakfast in their underwear at her kitchen table.

“Listen, I’ve got a business meeting tonight at five, but maybe you’d like to come by Nostalgia around seven and we could grab a bite to eat?” James asked her over his sunny-side up eggs.

Claire wondered if the night would end like the previous night had and smiled. “Sure, but maybe tonight I get to see your place?” She twirled her eggs on her fork and hoped he’d show her much more than his bachelor pad, again.

THE END

THE NEXT MORNING

Billionaire Romance

“Alright, spill. I know you just want to tell me everything, so let’s get this over with and-oh, hey! Who are these from? Mr. Tall, Pale-” Marie cut off as she stared at the florist’s name on the bouquet that was being settled on Claire’s desk. “Those are expensive,” she whispered so loudly that the man having Claire sign for them could hear her.

There was an infinitesimal grin on his lips as he took the clipboard back. “Thank you,” Claire told him demurely as she clasped her hands together and waited patiently for him to leave. The white roses were a contrast to her dark skin, but she found she liked them. They reminded her of the sender.

“Okay, I’m interested. What happened?” Marie looked over her shoulder to make sure none of the other news staff were listening.

Claire hummed as she positioned her roses and pulled the note away from the glass vase they’d come in. “Well, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome spent the night last night,” she finally whispered as she opened up the note.

“He can’t be dark. He’s about as white as those flowers,” Marie corrected.

“I think people call it an olive tone.” Claire finally got the note opened and smiled as she read it. Before she could hide it in her desk, Marie snatched it from her well-manicured hands and sucked on the inside of her cheek as she read over the line.

“Looking forward to tonight,” she read aloud before she handed it back.

Claire placed it neatly on her desk and rearranged the flowers a little more before she put them off to the side. “So am I,” she said mysteriously as she leaned back and looked up at her friend. Marie’s dark green eyes narrowed and she opened her pouty, red lips to say something, but the makeup artist saved Claire.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. It’s about time we prettied you up a little,” the old woman said as she waved a blush brush and put a fist on her ample hip.

“I’ve been right here all morning,” Claire told her as she stood and kiss Marie on the cheek before she left. “I’ll catch up with you at lunch,” she called over her shoulder, a little thankful that she was making a clean get-away. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spill the beans to her best friend, but it felt taboo to talk about it so soon after the event. Not only two hours prior had she been sitting at her kitchen table eating eggs naked with a man who had been kind enough to cook them. Poached them, no less.

What if she jinxed the whole thing by talking about it out loud? She didn’t have to worry about that, though, as she sat down at the makeup station and closed her eyes so Denise could get started.

“So what’s the weather going to be like for the next week?” It was the same question the woman asked every time Claire sat down, and the familiarity of it put her at ease immediately. While last night had changed a lot of things for her, this was still the same. Not even Eric Slate could mar the peaceful moments she had in her plush, cushy chair.

“It’s going to be sunny most of the week, but a few rain showers on Thursday,” she said as she felt the sweep of the foundation brush over her cheeks and forehead. Denise knew how to make magic with that brush.

“Aw, couldn’t it rain another day?” Denise complained as she stepped back to admire the work she’d done on Claire’s cheeks. She’d added a little bronze to the midnight colored flesh that really brought out Claire’s amber eyes. A dash of dark carmine to her lips and some dark gray eyeshadow and the girl would look like a runway model.

“Sorry, I’m still working on the weather machine,” Claire told Denise as she opened her eyes and allowed her to put on the mascara. “You always know how to make me look my best,” she said warmly as she stood and gave Denise a quick hug. “I know it’s Terrance’s birthday, Thursday, so maybe I’ll try to send up a prayer to the weather gods for you.”

“That’d be much appreciated,” Denise told her before she went back to her desk. Marie had gone on to deal with whatever it was she did in the accounting department. She’d be back at lunch, of that Claire was sure.

Her roses were still sitting on the desk where she had left them, and Claire took a moment to admire them. There wasn’t one that had a touch of brown on the edges or even a sign of wilt. It had been a long time since a man had paid any special attention to her.

“Claire, you’re up!” her director popped his head into her door and she smiled at him to let him know she’d heard. Then she grabbed her notes to make sure that she had everything in order. There really wasn’t a need for notes, but she liked to be prepared when she was reading the prompter.

Her heels clicked through the hall as she strode down it and her heart hammered in her chest just like it did every time before she got in front of the camera. It was a well-kept secret that she was terrified of being in the public eye, and she’d never let that slip to any of her co-workers, including her best friend. Claire took a deep breath before she stepped onto the set and waited for the green screen to turn on.

She could hear the other news anchors talking about the morning’s accidents on Broad Street and took a moment to breathe before she was on. Just before she was about to speak, a familiar crop of dark hair and pale blue eyes caught her attention.

Eric Slate.

Claire delivered her prompter speech flawlessly and smiled when she knew she was expected to. She told everyone to have a good day with a radiant gaze and her shoulders squared. To those who worked with her, she looked flawless as ever in her delivery of the weather report, but in truth, her heart was pounding against her ribcage like a wrecking ball. Each pump was like a painful blow to her chest.

When she was off the set, her smile evaporated and her stance became more standoffish than relaxed. Claire tried to do a bypass of her ex-lover, but he caught up to her halfway down the corridor to her office. “Claire,” he called out to her as he reached forward to grasp her elbow.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” she said so venomously it startled even her. Claire wrenched her elbow from his grasp and swallowed when she saw someone walk past the two of them with a look of mixed fear and grotesque interest.

“Claire, please. I just want to talk about what happened.” She felt her nostrils flaring and her teeth grit together sharp enough to jolt her. Claire took a step back from the man who had humiliated her in front of a few hundred people and felt a sick turn in her stomach. “Claire, please,” he tried again in a pathetic voice.

“You make me sick,” she told him with a little less sharpness. “I don’t know what possessed you to think I would ever want to see your face again, but I assure you, I don’t. So please, leave before I call security.” Claire took the step back to her office and closed the door so quietly the sound was worse than a slam would have been.

What had made her think she was over him, she couldn’t figure out. There seemed to be no end to her self-loathing as she sat down at her desk and put her face into her hands. Heated words from out in the hallway met her ears and brought her out of her wallowing long enough to look up and see Marie stepping through the door.

“Claire,” she said as she closed the door in a stricken Eric’s face. “I knew I should have told security to watch out for him. I’m so sorry he had the nerve to come here.” The woman who had been her savior the night of her public humiliation and her knight in shining armor for the entire week after sank down onto her desk and put a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Claire lied as she sniffed and wiped at the tear in the corner of her eye.

“No, you’re not, but you will be,” Marie told her with a reassuring smile. “If the prick would just give up and go away.” Marie pursed her lips together as if she’d said too much and Claire’s fibber radar started to awaken.

“What do you mean if he would stop? This is the first time I’ve seen him since-” Claire couldn’t bring herself to say it, seeing him seemed to reopen the barely scabbed wound.

Marie clamped her lips together and clasped her hands in her lap as she crossed her legs at her ankles. She looked up and out of the window that oversaw the business district of New York, City. It was a clear day with very little humidity and she could see for miles beyond the tops of the buildings.

“Marie,” Claire started warningly as she recognized her friend’s evasive behavior. She knew Marie was hoping she’d drop the subject and leave it go, but when it came to this topic; she was like a dog with a bone.

“He came by last week after the incident at the party. I intercepted him at the door and told him you weren’t here. He’d been showing up at the front of the building most days in the morning and I kept telling him you were still at home, but he must have figured out I was lying and snuck through security. I’ll have to give them the real run around this time,” Marie said through clenched teeth as her right hand balled into a fist. “I’m sorry I lied, Claire, but that man’s no good for you.”

She’d thought he’d ditched her and never even come to apologize for almost a week, and Marie was just telling her that the man she’d thought she’d love for the rest of her life had been coming by every day in order to see her. “What were you thinking? Lying to me like that?”

Claire’s chest tightened and she felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. She couldn’t put a name to the emotion as it swept over her. Perhaps it was betrayal.

“I was trying to be a good friend. I wanted to protect you from him.” Marie could see that she wasn’t getting through to her friend. “Claire, I was trying to keep this from happening. You were happy!” She punctuated her words with her fist slapping into her left hand and stood to pace in front of Claire’s desk.

“You’re right, I was happy. But it wasn’t because you protected me from Eric Slate. I was happy because I knew I had one person in this world I could trust, who wouldn’t lie to me.” Marie opened her mouth to respond, but Claire wasn’t going to let her make it any worse. “Please, I just need some space, okay? I have a lot of work to do for next week and tomorrow.”

Marie recognized the dismissal for what it was and paused at the door with a hurt look on her face before she left. Claire looked at the white roses still sitting on her desk and wondered if she should even bother. This man wasn’t Eric, but it seemed everyone had something to keep from her.