Ménage in Manhattan: The Complete 5-Book Ménage Romance Collection

by Tara Crescent

  Wyatt doesn’t seem to think my question is out of line. “I’m sorry about that,” he says regretfully. “I was just about to call you. Are you at Piper’s right now?”

  “No, Josef’s working today. I’m taking the afternoon off.”

  “Good.” He sounds relieved. “Owen and I need to talk to you. If you don’t have to be at work, can you come over?”

  “Now? I’m having a drink with Wendy.”

  Wendy rolls her eyes and snatches my phone from my hand. “No, she’s not,” she tells Wyatt. “She’s finished here. She’s heading over right now.”

  I glare at Wendy, but my outrage lacks conviction.

  45

  Piper

  Love is friendship that has caught fire.

  Ann Landers

  Both Owen and Wyatt are at the curb waiting for my cab. The instant I pull up and open the door, they jump forward. Wyatt encloses me in a hug, while Owen pays my driver. “Hey, I can do that,” I protest, to no avail. “What’s going on? You guys are being weird.”

  “Come upstairs,” Wyatt replies. “We’ll explain.”

  Something is wrong. An old lady rides the elevator up with us, preventing me from questioning them. I wait impatiently until we get to the top floor.

  Owen pushes the door open to his place and gestures me in. The instant the door shuts behind us, Wyatt’s tension seems to drain away. “Hello, Piper,” he says, his voice low and intent. “I’ve missed you.”

  The way I see it, I have two choices. I can either demand that they tell me what is happening, or I can fall into bed with them and have some mouth-watering sex first. Falling into bed wins by a landslide.

  “I’ve missed you too.” I’m wearing a short sleeved button-down shirt, and I reach for the first button, and undo it. My lips quirk into a smile at their reaction. Wyatt sits down on the couch and leans back with sharp interest, his eyes fixed on the slivers of skin slowly coming into view.

  Owen is more proactive. He takes a step toward me. “Do you like your shirt?” he growls.

  “I hate it.” I sound like I’ve been running a race. My voice is breathless, layered with need.

  “Good.” His fingers grip the fabric, and he rips. Buttons fly everywhere, and I gasp as he yanks the shirt free. The bra follows. I stand in my pencil skirt and my pumps, lust raging through my blood.

  “Two nights,” Owen says, his voice controlled, his breath tickling my ear, “we slept without you. Tell me you want to make it up to us.”

  The violence of my need almost causes my knees to buckle. “I want to make it up to you,” I whisper.

  “Get on your knees.”

  I sink to the floor, my eyes on Wyatt, loving the way he’s watching me. I’m prey and these men are the predators, but though my heart hammers in my chest, I have no desire to be anywhere but here.

  “Crawl toward him.” Owen’s instruction almost makes me combust. My insides tighten. On my hands and knees, I move to Wyatt.

  When I reach him, I sit up on my haunches and my fingers find his belt. “I want you,” I say boldly.

  His eyes darken. “I’m all yours, Piper,” he replies as I undo his belt and unzip his trousers, almost tearing his clothes away so I can touch him. His cock jumps out, hard and ready, and I close my hand around him, sliding up and down on his thick length before taking him in my mouth.

  “Fuck, Piper,” Wyatt groans, his head thrown back on the couch, his eyes closed.

  I love this reaction. I can feel my pussy drip; I’m so turned on.

  Owen comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I missed these breasts,” he growls into my ear as his hands slide up my chest to cup my globes. “I missed these nipples.” He rolls my erect nubs between his thumb and forefinger, then he pinches them hard. I gasp onto Wyatt’s cock as a slice of raw heat cuts through me.

  He grabs the hem of my pencil skirt and tugs up, smoothing the fabric over the curve of my hips until it’s bunched up at my waist. He yanks my panties down to my knees. “Part your legs for me, baby,” he urges.

  His fingers slide deep into me. “So wet,” he marvels. “I’ve been starved for this pussy, Piper. You offered us a feast and you took it away.” His other palm smooths over my ass, then he spanks me.

  Oh, that was nice. We have to do that again.

  I pull my mouth from Wyatt’s cock. I lick the underside of his shaft, and cup his balls gently. “So fucking good,” he moans, staring down at me. “So fucking beautiful.”

  Owen’s fingers find my clitoris, and he pets me in little teasing strokes. “More,” I gasp out, trying to push back into him so there’s more contact, more friction. I need this; I need them. Before I met them, I went without sex for five years. Now, I can’t seem to last five hours. My desire, so long on the back-burner, is now ablaze. I quiver and tremble for their touch.

  “You’re in full sight of the window,” Wyatt says, staring at me with hungry eyes. “It’s daytime. Anyone can look in and see you on your knees, with your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock.”

  “I don’t care,” I say defiantly. “Let them look.” Right now, it wouldn’t even matter if people were standing in a circle around us, staring down at the tangle of bodies. All I want is for Owen to stroke me, just a little harder. My thighs tremble as my climax dances, just out of reach.

  “You don’t care?” Owen asks. “Really?” His tone is deliberately casual. He’s plotting something.

  Wyatt’s lips curve into a smile. “Get up, Piper.”

  Owen helps me to my feet. I strip off my panties while Owen’s fingers work at my skirt, undoing the button and sliding the zipper down. “Step out of it,” he orders.

  If this is a test, then I’m going to ace it, because I will do anything to for my orgasm. If they ask me to spread my legs and touch myself in front of them, I will. If they order me to fuck myself with a dildo, I’ll comply with pleasure. I ache with throbbing need; I’m trapped in a net of powerful lust.

  Wyatt strips efficiently, unembarrassed by his nakedness. I shamelessly check him out. Owen disappears for a minute and returns with condoms and lube. He removes his clothes as well, and wraps his hands around my wrist. “We’re going to push you against the window and take you in full sight of the city, Piper.”

  I bite my lower lip, but my pussy floods at the thought. “Okay,” I whisper.

  Their eyes blaze with heat. “What a naughty girl,” Wyatt says, his hands gripping my wrists as he inches me back toward the glass.

  “She is,” Owen agrees. “I should pull you over my lap, Piper, and spank you hard.”

  There’s no doubt; my body likes the sound of that. I watch with greedy eyes as they roll condoms on their cocks. Owen slicks a generous amount of lube on his shaft, and fists himself, pumping up and down to coat every hard inch.

  Wyatt reaches for me. I lift my right leg off the floor and wrap it around his hip, standing on tiptoe as his thick length penetrates me. “Fuck yes, he says through clenched teeth. “You are so tight, Piper.”

  Owen’s dick nudges at my bottom. I gasp as he penetrates me, filling me completely. My body tingles as they thrust into me. At first, they hold on to their control, but it doesn’t take long before they unravel. Their strokes get harder, faster. “Touch yourself,” Owen rasps. “I want to feel you come, Piper.”

  My fingers strum at my clitoris. I’m not gentle. My body is shaking with raw desire. I rub myself, pleasure radiating from my core. I’m so close. Just a little more, just a little harder…

  And I’m there. My climax washes over me in a thunderous wave. I see stars; I touch the skies. When my quivering tremors have barely begun to subside, Wyatt and Owen groan out within seconds of each other as they explode, their fingers digging into my flesh.

  “So tell me something,” I ask them, as we collapse on the carpet, the fibers tickling my skin, “did the whole of New York just watch us?”

  Wyatt chuckles. “You liked the idea of that, didn’t you?” he teases.
“No, the glass is coated. You can’t see in.”

  “I thought as much,” I lie, but neither of them falls for it. Their gazes are knowing, and my cheeks flush. I’m turning out to be some kind of sex-crazy fiend.

  But I like it.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  The sun is lower in the sky. The bright lights of the city are flickering on as the daylight recedes. It’s as quiet as it gets in Manhattan, as people start the Sunday night routine of getting ready for the week ahead.

  Wyatt takes a deep breath. “Where should we start?” he asks Owen.

  Owen looks nervous, which startles me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Owen Lamb at a loss for words. “Can I ask you something?” he says to me.

  “You’re freaking me out.”

  He doesn’t crack a smile, though he takes my hand in his. “Where do you see this relationship going?”

  “Are you breaking up with me?” I ask bluntly.

  Wyatt snorts. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Owen,” he says with fond exasperation. “Piper, Owen’s trying to tell you he’s in love with you.” He rolls his eyes in Owen’s direction. “He’s doing an excruciatingly bad job of it.”

  Owen glares at Wyatt. “I don’t see you saying anything,” he points out. “It’s harder than it looks.”

  I look from Owen to Wyatt, disbelief and the beginnings of joy warring in my heart. “Wait, you’re in love with me?” I ask Owen. “Is that true, or is that something Wyatt made up?”

  “It’s true.” His clear blue gaze never leaves mine. “I love you, Piper Jackson. And I know we haven’t talked about the future, and I know a threesome is unorthodox, but I also know that the last eight weeks have been the happiest of my life.” He turns toward Wyatt. “Your turn.”

  Wyatt actually blushes. The look on his face tugs at my heartstrings. “You probably know where this is going,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I love you too Piper. I think I’ve loved you from almost the first moment I met you.” He reaches for my other hand, the one Owen isn’t holding, and he continues, his voice soft with memory. “You put your hands on your hips, and you demanded to know why we’d eaten at your restaurant for the last two weeks. You were so feisty and so spunky that I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.” He swallows. “I was hurt by your words on Friday,” he admits, “but when you left, I realized that it didn’t matter. If we fought, we’d make up, because I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

  I grin widely. “I love you too,” I reply, sitting up straight and throwing my arms around them. “I love both of you so much. And I know a threesome can be complicated, but two of my best friends are in them. If they can make it work, so can I.”

  My mother’s face dances before me, her eyes blazing with anger and disapproval. I shake my head and push it away. I don’t care what my parents think, I tell myself defiantly. I’ll find a way to make it work.

  But there’s a small voice inside me that’s calling me a liar, and I think that voice might be right.

  “Hang on,” I say, after another extended round of cuddling that predictably, leads to sex, “That’s not the reason you guys were acting so strange when I pulled up.”

  Owen sits up with a sigh. “It’s a long story,” he says. “And you might be furious with us once you hear it. You remember the day we first met? You asked us why we picked Aladdin’s Lamp.”

  I nod. “Because Sebastian told you to, right?”

  “Wrong.” Wyatt shakes his head. “Sebastian just suggested we try your food. And we did, for two weeks. But I was pretty convinced Aladdin’s Lamp wasn’t a good fit for us.”

  “There’s a cop called Eduardo Mendez,” Owen continues. “Mendez and his wife were my foster parents when I first moved to America. I’ve helped him out with his cases from time to time.”

  Wyatt lifts a single eyebrow, but doesn’t interrupt. “Anyway, Mendez is investigating a gang that’s operating in Hell’s Kitchen, using local restaurants as a front. Drugs, mostly. Aladdin’s Lamp was on his list of suspects. I promised him I’d look into it.”

  “Wait a minute.” My mouth falls open. “That’s why you invested in my restaurant? Because you thought I was dealing drugs?”

  Owen squeezes his eyes shut. “Only at the start.”

  “Your innocence was obvious to both of us in less than a week,” Wyatt adds, giving Owen an exasperated look.

  “So hang on,” I say slowly, “when you helped me paint, did you think I was guilty?”

  “No, of course not.” Owen’s gaze is tender as he looks at me. “You remember the night we sealed our friendship over the better part of a bottle of vodka?”

  How can I forget that night? It was the first time I’d wanted them. I’d gone to bed, my body aching with longing, desperate to feel the press of their bodies against mine. “Yes.”

  “I knew you were clean that night,” Owen says.

  “So everything that came after, the painting, the sign, all the help you gave me, that was real? Not because of your investigation?”

  “No, Piper. We didn’t lie when we said we were there for you.”

  “Okay.” I lift my shoulder in a shrug. “We’re cool. Continue the story.”

  “What?” Wyatt props himself up on his elbow to stare at me. “You’re okay? You’re not furious?”

  I shake my head. “I thought you were assholes when we met the first time,” I tell him. “I wanted to punch both of you. First impressions aren’t always right. Besides, you didn’t know me, and Aladdin’s Lamp had lost money for a very long time. I’m not surprised the cops suspected me of illegal activity.”

  Wyatt gives me an astonished look. Owen kisses my cheek. “Thank you,” he mutters into my ear. “Back to the story. I’ve been checking out the restaurants on Mendez’s list. One of them is participating in Can You Take The Heat?.”

  They fill me in on their conversation with Greg Tennant. “So you see,” Wyatt finishes, his voice serious, “why we were worried for you this afternoon.”

  I hug my knees to my chest, feeling chilled to my core. Restaurants aren’t above sabotaging each other, of course. It’s a brutal and competitive world.

  But Wyatt and Owen aren’t describing a simple act of sabotage. They’re talking about someone deliberately targeting Greg Tennant’s wife. Hurting her, sending her to the hospital with broken bones.

  “Surveillance cameras will be installed tomorrow,” Wyatt says. “Both outside the building and inside the restaurant.”

  I’ve almost forgotten the original reason Wyatt wanted cameras in the kitchen. The incident of the salted gravy seems trivial now. “Can we afford it?” I ask automatically.

  “Yes,” Owen replies. “You’re getting a new landlord soon. They’ll be covering the cost.”

  “Are you buying my building?” I demand. They’re very rich, I know and I wouldn’t put it past them. “I don’t want any special favors.”

  Wyatt shakes his head regretfully. “As much as I’d have liked to do that,” he says, “I’m sure that’ll violate one of the million terms and conditions of your aunt’s will. No, a couple of our friends invest in real estate. We just connected them with Michael O’Connor.”

  “Of course.” My voice is dry. I’m slowly beginning to understand how their world works.

  “Also,” Wyatt says, “we’ve arranged for you to have a bodyguard at all times, at least until this contest is over. His name is Tomas.”

  “Really? You don’t think that’s overkill?”

  “No.” Owen’s voice is hard. “I’ve lost people I love once. I won’t let it happen again.”

  My gaze softens as I look at him. I can’t even imagine how hard this must be for Owen. “Okay,” I agree, not wanting to cause him any more pain, “Bodyguards it shall be. I know I sound like a stuck record, but can we afford it?”

  Wyatt growls. “If you think keeping you safe is a business expense, Piper,” he says, his eyes blazing with fire, “you’re very wron
g. You’re the woman we love. Protecting you is personal.”

  I didn’t think I was the type that got turned on by growling possessiveness, but color me corrected, because at that tone, heat snakes down below. I wriggle against them and bat my eyelashes. “Say that again.”

  Owen smirks and Wyatt chuckles, and they proceed to make me forget Max Emerson, my parents, the contest, and everything else.

  46

  Wyatt

  A part of kindness consists in loving people more than they deserve.

  Joseph Joubert

  The next few days are idyllic.

  At Piper’s, Josef has turned over a new leaf. He shows up to work early; he leaves late. “If this keeps up,” Piper says thoughtfully, “Maybe he can manage the pass on Tuesdays. I could even take some time off in a couple of months.”

  “That’s a great idea,” I tell her and Owen is quick to agree. We both know that the risk of burnout is real. Piper needs to drastically cut down the hours she works if she wants to run her restaurant for more than just a year or two.

  Not yet though. Maisie’s article has brought a fresh rush of diners to Piper’s. On Tuesday, we get lucky and are able to hire three new much-needed employees, a hostess with a warm smile called Sasha, a waitress called Gina, brisk and competent, and a line cook called Salim, who proves his worth in the kitchen right from the start. The extra help comes in handy as we grapple with the sudden crowds. For a couple of dinner services, Owen even rolls up his sleeves and pitches in to cook. I’m an utter liability in the kitchen, but I work my magic in the front.

  To my relief, I don’t hear from my father. Owen’s threat has worked and gives me a much needed breather.

  Our relationship flourishes. We spend as much time as possible together. It doesn’t take long before Jasper, Piper’s cat, is brought over in a cat carrier. He promptly scratches my furniture and pees on my rug as a protest for being uprooted from his home. Piper stammers out an apology but I just smile and throw away the rug. Nothing can tarnish my happiness, not even the insanely strong odor of cat pee that lingers for three days.