Billionaire Brothers 01-04 The Complete Serial Box Set

by Meg Watson

  “Sure you can.”

  “No, really, I can’t… You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Not an issue,” he said with an arrogant purse of his lips.

  “Well, it is an issue, to me,” I insisted.

  Who the hell does he think he is?

  “I’m sure any reservations you have, I can work with.”

  “Listen, I’m not like a shipping business or dry cleaner or anything, Declan. You can’t just buy me.”

  He shrugged. Again. I was getting a little sick of that.

  “So tell me why not.”

  I shook my head and sighed through my nose, angling back toward my easel as though I wanted to get back to work.

  “Tell me,” he insisted in a growl.

  “I just… I need to get a few things finished in a hurry.”

  “Not a problem. We won’t be in town more than a couple weeks anyway. It’s not a long-term commitment.”

  I cough-laughed at how quickly he batted aside my objection.

  “Well I need to work now. As in right now, today.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll be out of your hair in a jif.”

  “No it is a problem, Declan,” I pushed back. “You know, I’m really not feeling like you’re hearing me. Are we having a translation problem or something?”

  “No, I hear you loud and clear. You have reservations, and I am telling you there is nothing we can’t work around.”

  Frustration coiled up in my chest. His stubbornness was really starting to get on my nerves and I wanted to fire back something he couldn’t argue with.

  “Not everything has a work around, you know? Some things are just problems. Regular people problems. Not problems on your level. I doubt you would understand.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I have a job! An actual job I am supposed to be doing at this moment!”

  “Fine. Agree and I will leave.”

  I snorted. “Wow, you really are accustomed to getting your own way, aren’t you?”

  He nodded infuriatingly with a confident grin.

  “Well not everybody’s life is like that, you know? Not everybody just has everything handed to them.”

  “Oh you don’t seem to be doing so bad,” he shot back, looking around. “You were handed all this, weren’t you? And Bridget handed you two major collectors who handed you a third.”

  “Ha!” I blurted out, unable to control myself any longer. “You know what that got me, Declan? NOTHING. Reserving paintings is not selling paintings. It killed the opening night and when I went to Edna, she didn’t even fucking want them.”

  I stood there panting, filled with venom. He nodded solemnly.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he admitted. “I didn’t know that part.”

  “Oh yeah? Well there’s a lot you don’t know. All of this,” I waved my arms around my head like a crazy person, “will be in my possession for exactly two more days. That’s it. After that, you can find me in my fucking car with everything I own.”

  His expression became completely serious.

  “What are you talking about,” he said, coming closer to me.

  I started to tremble, barely covering up the pressure building up inside me. I was going to scream or cry soon, and I prayed desperately for screaming.

  “Fucking taxes,” I yelled out, then wilted as the words echoed back to me. “Stupid fucking taxes on the stupid fucking handed-to-me house.”

  “Oh,” he said flatly, waving his hand in the air. “That’s not a problem.”

  I wanted to pick up the easel and hit him with it like it was a bat. I saw the entire scene so vividly in my mind, I was almost sure I had started doing it.

  “THIS IS A HUGE FUCKING PROBLEM!”

  He shook his head.

  “It’s not a problem.”

  My mouth opened and closed pointlessly. There was no way to make him understand.

  “How much is it?”

  I snorted and shook my head. “Too much. If I had sold every painting… Well frankly it would have still been too much. It’s over. I just need to deal with that now.”

  “How much?”

  I shook my head again.

  “Thirty thousand?”

  I looked down at my bare feet on the low-pile carpet.

  “Fifty?”

  I shrugged. “Something like that,” I muttered.

  He walked closer to me, close enough I could hear the hum of his easy, even breaths.

  “See? Was that so hard? You just have to ask for what you want, Margot.”

  “Wait, no… I didn’t ask you for anything, Declan,” I objected. Had I asked? I was sure I hadn’t.

  He shrugged again. “You presented your reservations, and I met them with a counteroffer. It’s standard procedure. I’ll have my guy get certified funds for you tomorrow morning.”

  I shook my head emphatically.

  “No, that’s fucked up. No.”

  “It’s done,” he said simply. “Any further objections?”

  I stared at him in shock. How could he just do that? Just…. poof… fifty thousand dollars like it was no big deal?

  Take the money, stupid, my Invisible Bridget commanded me.

  “I don’t… This doesn’t feel right,” I muttered.

  He took another step closer until we were only inches apart.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I think it feels completely right. I can’t imagine what else you could possibly say at this point except yes.”

  But it was wrong, and I knew it. It was my problem to solve, and I had legitimately failed. Being bailed out - bought? Was completely wrong.

  “Say yes,” he growled.

  “No I really can’t,” I whispered, averting my eyes, afraid of what would happen if I looked at him.

  I can’t take money for… nothing. For sex. There’s no way.

  His fingers found my chin and tugged at it. I had no choice but to stare up into his eyes. He was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring slightly with every exhale. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. They held me locked in.

  “The foundation of any deal is trust. You can trust me. Your condition has been satisfied. Now, say it,” he commanded me.

  A chorus of internal voices threw up a wave of denials, but I could feel the sand they stood on shifting beneath their feet. All was swept aside by his eyes roving over my simple cotton wrap dress, lingering on the bow like he wanted to open it with his teeth.

  I nodded suddenly, even as I begged myself not to. Yes. My body went all electrified with shivers as that thought cascaded through me. Yes.

  “Excellent. We have a deal,” he breathed. “Can I kiss you now? I’ve been dying to kiss you.”

  I said nothing, just bit my lip and stared at him. He pushed his hands through the back of my hair and firmly tugged my head back. I had expected something gentler and it took my breath away, but he covered my mouth before I had time to breathe. Suddenly I was dizzy, out of breath, and ravenous for his taste.

  He was salty and strong, like smoke. Like bacon. Each kiss came with a small groan that got louder every time. Soon his hands were tugging my hair, hard. I clawed at his muscular shoulders and mashed my body onto his.

  With a snap, he flicked at the bow at my waist and the dress fell open. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He pulled back for just a second to look at me and his eyes widened at my nakedness.

  “Oh god,” he muttered and pinched my nipple, hard, biting his lip when it instantly puckered and stood erect under his fingers.

  “Yes, yes,” he said. “God I wanna fuck you, Margot.”

  I intended to nod but his grip held my head still. His other hand slipped behind me and cupped my ass all at once, lifting me right off the ground. I threw my legs around his waist and locked my ankles. His hard cock poked at my exposed opening through the fabric of his linen trousers.

  Walking me swiftly toward the glass doors, Declan pinned me immobile against his body. My hips automatically wanted to grind agai
nst the intrusion of my hole but I couldn’t move in his strong grip. I was as helpless as a doll.

  When we banged against the door, a part of me panicked until I remembered the tint was opaque from outside. He pushed me hard against the glass and held me there. His cock was just millimeters away from being inside me, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

  “Look at me,” he demanded. I hadn’t even realized my eyes were closed. I opened them and met his intense gaze. He yanked my dress off my shoulders and it fell silently to the floor.

  “Don’t look away,” he said, and I shook my head obediently, not breaking his gaze. I held onto his hips with my thighs while he tugged his linen trousers down.

  “I’ve got you,” he said sternly. I nodded. “You understand? You don’t have to hang on. I’ll hold you up.”

  As if to make his point, he took my hands from his shoulders. Circling each wrist in his huge, strong hands, he pulled them up over my head and pinned them to the glass.

  “You feel that?” he asked. I nodded. My breath was starting to catch in my throat. I could feel his cock bouncing against my ass when he spoke.

  “No, look at me!” he said again. I gasped and found his eyes obediently. He wanted control. I was going to have to give it to him if I wanted to feel his cock inside me, and I really, really wanted that.

  His eyes were the color of a blast of lightning, light and hot. Wolfish. He stared into me as he moved his hips and I gasped when I felt the tip of his dick nosing at my entrance. How did he do that?

  I nodded yet again as if he needed my permission, and tried not to look away. I was sore, more than I thought, and my pussy burned brightly as I began to stretch around him.

  I wanted to moan, to throw my head back and close my eyes, but I didn’t dare even blink. I didn’t want to do anything that would make him stop. Consciously I relaxed the burning muscles, trying to let him in. But he held back, advancing only a fraction at a time.

  As he stared at me, I watched tiny puddles of sweat bead on his upper lip. His cock throbbed and thickened and each time it swelled I bit back another moan of pleasure. His chest pinned mine to the glass, preventing my hips from grinding my pussy onto his dick. The wait was torture. Every part of me cried out for that plunging, ramming cock I had felt the night before. I wanted to scream or beg.

  “Declan, fuck me,” I finally whispered. “Please! Fuck me!”

  A snarl ripped from his throat as he gave in and suddenly rammed himself into me the rest of the way. My belly and clit exploded in white fireworks with each thrust. Finally free, my hips ground in frantic circles. It was a torrent of relief but I didn’t look away. I wanted to see his eyes. I wanted to feel his pleasure when he came, and watch his face change, and see his expression.

  Angling my hips back, I repositioned him so that every thrust also beat against my swollen and desperate clit. I could feel my orgasm spiralling up, filling like an overripe fruit.

  He kissed me with his eyes open, sucking hard on my lower lip and tongue. His breath started to come in hoarse gasps.

  “Fuck me!” I said again, and he pounded me even faster. Suddenly I felt his cock seem to thicken and grow and then the fruit burst open. Chevrons and ziggurats of color raced across my vision, obscuring him, blotting out the room. I let go with my thighs and let him hold me up completely by my wrists and pussy as he fucked me right into blindness.

  Vaguely I heard him howling into my hair and an explosion of slippery warmth in my womb. But I was jelly. The fruit had split red, and all I could see was its meat.

  Gingerly, he took my arms and set them one by one behind his neck. Wrapping his arms behind me, he turned my body sideways and folded into a seated position on the floor with me curled neatly in his lap.

  “Oh, oh ho ho,” he chuckled shyly, rocking me gently. I was sweating and quaking and so happy to be encircled in his arms. “That was… I don’t even know what that was.”

  “That was amazing,” I replied dreamily, watching the tiny curlicues of light continuing to dance at the corners of my vision.

  “Yes,” he agreed and kissed my forehead a hundred times. “That was amazing.”

  As bliss sank into my bones, I tried to banish the thought of the money that crept around the periphery of my brain. Was there a sense of relief? Maybe. I had to say yes to him. I had no choice. And I wanted him anyway, I knew.

  But the thought wouldn’t go away. Declan wasn’t the sensitive, earnest person that Jackson was, I realized. And I had made a deal… A deal I was sure he intended to make me keep. I was certain I’d saved my house and maybe my career too, but I had to wonder, what did I just do?

  ###

  BROKEN

  Billionaire Brothers - Book 3

  Meg Watson

  CHAPTER 1

  “INVITE ME TO DINNER,” Bridget demanded as soon as I answered her call. The bathroom three-way mirror showed my hand from infinite angles, holding the phone to my ear.

  “Oh hi to you too, stranger,” said my million reflections, all haughty and self-satisfied because of the fact that she had called me first. I had not called her. Nope.

  “Hi. Whatever. What time is dinner?”

  “Geez… Um… Eight OK by you?”

  “It’s fantastic.”

  “What are we having?”

  “Oh,” she sighed breezily, “I’m easy. Whatever you wanna make is great by me.”

  I cough-laughed and racked my brains for recipes I could whip together in nine hours for… My fingers wiggled in the mirror. Four? I was cooking for four people? Doable, no problem.

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “I’m just checking in with my top talent, Margot von Trask of the LA von Trasks. You’ve heard of her?”

  Oh, so now I’m talent?

  “It’s not ringing a bell,” I muttered wryly.

  “Well, it’s no wonder… She totally disappeared from the scene weeks ago and no one even knows if she’s still alive.”

  “Whatever, Bridge. You didn’t sound so in love with my talent after the show, is how I remember it.”

  She blew out a long breath.

  “Yeah, well, about that…”

  I said nothing. Let her suffer.

  “I may have been harsh.”

  Silence.

  “But you still love me,” she insisted. “That’s the beauty of you.”

  “I do?” I asked. “Because I also remember asking you for some help saving my fucking house, and you told me I was too risky a bet.”

  “Did I do that?”

  “Oh yeah, you did.”

  “I don’t think I meant it like that.”

  More silence.

  “OK, I’m sorry,” she finally whined. “I’m sorry! I was 200% cooze and I apologize. You’re the tops. You’re the coliseum. I am dogmeat.”

  “That’s better.”

  “And you didn’t lose your house anyway.”

  “No thanks to you.”

  I listened to her smoking like it was a commercial break.

  “How, uh, did you manage to swing that anyhow?”

  I shrugged. A million Margots shrugged back at me.

  “I pulled some things together. I’m resourceful.”

  “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the Burke situation would it?”

  “Nope,” I lied, easily.

  She wouldn’t understand, I counselled myself.

  “Well, then this is a congratulatory dinner. Let’s celebrate you not being homeless.”

  I chuckled and shook my head, watching my reflection.

  “Yeah. OK. Well, I guess I’m going to the store. You wanna come?”

  “No fucking way. So! What do I need to wear to get some of your sloppy seconds?”

  “Um, what?”

  “The man-meat you’re hiding up there in shangri-la.”

  “Oh… about that…”

  I heard her suck her teeth and I swear I heard her roll her eyes.

  “Bridge, I’m just going to tell y
ou straight out.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “The Burkes are… staying.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I blew my breath through puffed out cheeks. “We are, like, together.”

  “OK,” she said definitively, but then there was a pause. “OK,” she said again. While she mulled this over I turned around, trying to see myself from every direction. The paint I had managed to splatter on myself was distracting, but I looked to be love-bite free. Declan’s enthusiasm had me a little worried.

  “Since when?”

  “Since… uh…” I searched my memory. The weeks had flown by in a flurry of work and Burkes, rolling together into one long day of food, sex, painting, more sex, and then some sex. “I don’t know. We were just… at some point it was easier for them just to stay here.”

  “They’re not living with you,” she said briskly.

  I didn’t answer.

  “Wait, are they living with you?”

  “Not exactly? I mean, I guess they don’t really ‘live’ anywhere. They’re, uh… staying with me.”

  “Where are they right at this moment?”

  “Um,” I whispered, “asleep. In bed.”

  “In your bed? Like… together?”

  I stifled a giggle. Though Declan had bought a new larger bed weeks ago to replace my old queen-size, the novelty of all sleeping in one bed still hadn’t worn off. I loved being pressed between their bodies all night long.

  “I’m getting a lot of work done,” I offered.

  “Don’t change the subject,” she snipped.

  “Well, that’s all you really need to know. Like, a lot of work. Really good stuff I think.”

  “Do they pay you for sex?”

  “Fuck you,” I hissed, harsher than I meant too.

  “It’s just that sometimes girls who are into the freaky shit get paid for it, you know. As your business manager I think it’s my duty--”

  “Seriously, shut up.”

  “Fine, whatever you say. Margot...” she said, her voice softening. “You know, I think I need to come over. Nowish.”

  “No, you can’t. I have to go and shop for my foodie friend and like fourteen more people or something.”

  Another long pause. I really wanted to get away from this conversation. Everything was going fine and I didn’t need her monkeywrench. “Bridge, what. Spit it out.”