As I predict, both Oliver and Finn emerge when the aroma of coffee fills the apartment. They shuffle like zombies toward the caffeine, and I watch them with an indulgent smile.
Finn catches a glimpse of my expression. “Don’t look so smug,” he says. “I can’t remember the last time you woke up before us.”
Oliver adds milk and sugar to his coffee and sits down at the table. He doesn’t speak until he drains his first cup. “What time are we due at Piper’s restaurant?”
“Three. I told her we'd come early to help.”
Finn raises his eyebrow. “Piper and Sebastian are Michelin-starred chefs. Won’t we just get in their way?”
As if Piper’s going to let me cook. My skills in the kitchen are somewhat lacking. And that’s putting it kindly. “We’re in charge of setting the tables. There’s going to be more than twenty people for dinner.”
Over the years, our little circle has grown by leaps and bounds. Last Thanksgiving was loud and boisterous. This year promises to be ever more so.
“Hudson’s going to be there, right?” Oliver asks, getting up for his second cup of coffee. He refills my mug as well, and I smile my thanks at him. “I want to talk to him about a new office for Imperium.” His lips curl into a grin. “Assuming you’re okay with it, of course.”
I heave a sigh of exasperation. “Stop it,” I tell him. “I don’t own Imperium. Those stupid pieces of paper weren’t legally binding, and in any case, I tore them up.”
Finn’s eyes dance with amusement. “How do you know we didn’t just write another copy?” he inquires silkily.
I glare at him. “Stop joking. It’s bad enough that the two of you hired me to be the CFO last month. Everyone thinks the only reason I got the job is because I’m sleeping with both of you.”
Oliver shakes his head. “I beg to disagree,” he says. “You got the job because you’ve got the financial background and the hacking chops.”
Finn clears his throat. “We’re talking about work,” he points out. “Aren’t you always telling me that I’m a workaholic? Pot, meet kettle.”
I laugh. “Fair enough. What do you want to talk about?”
He winks at me. “A nice, hot shower,” he says. “A beautiful woman washing my back. And maybe some lazing around in bed afterward?”
Hey, it’s Thanksgiving. It’s a holiday dedicated to food and gratitude, and I’m pretty grateful that Oliver and Finn are a part of my life. “I’m on board with all those things.”
Four months ago, the apartment directly underneath Oliver’s penthouse had gone on the market, and Oliver had instantly snapped it up. Technically, I still live in Wendy’s old apartment, but the three of us are moving in together in January.
“I don’t know why you want to wait,” Oliver had grumbled.
“This year, I was miserable in January,” I’d replied. “I want a clean slate. New year, new apartment.Besides,” I’d added, “If I have to live here during the renovations, I’m going to go crazy.”
Which all sounds good in theory. In practice, I haven’t been back to Wendy’s apartment in over a week, and I have more clothes in the closet here than I do back home.
The renovation was supposed to take two months. Even with all the money Oliver and Finn threw at it, it took three. The new apartment is worth the wait though. An open-concept living space with exposed brick walls, three large bedrooms, and a master bathroom so beautiful that I want to cry in happiness every single time I shower.
It’s the shower we make our way to right now. Finn leads the way, and I follow. Oliver doesn’t join us right away. I’ve removed my pajamas and am about to wriggle out of my panties when he shows up, a bottle of champagne in one hand and three flutes in the other. “I don’t know if you remember,” he says, “but exactly a year ago today, we met for the first time.”
“I remember.” How could I forget? I thought I’d won the plane lottery when the two tall, good-looking men had sat on either side of me.
He sets the glasses on the counter, pops the cork and fills the flutes. We each take one and lift it in the air. “This has been the best year of my life,” Finn says seriously, clinking his glass against mine. “Here’s to many more.”
I take a sip of the cold liquid. Oliver’s eyes gleam with heat. His hand curls around the neck of the bottle, and he rolls the glass over my nipples. “Hey,” I say indignantly. “That’s cold.”
“Want me to stop?” A small smile plays about his lips. Oliver knows me. He knows exactly what I’m going to say.
“No.”
“Then drink your champagne, honey.” Finn’s voice is smooth and firm. “And let us drink ours.” He holds the glass over my chest and drips the ice-cold liquid over my breasts.
My nipples pebble instantly. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I shiver, my pussy slick with heat. “Are you cold, sweetie?” Oliver asks sympathetically. His thumb smears the champagne into my skin, and his tongue follows, lapping at the liquid. His mouth closes over my nipple, its warm heat a delicious contrast to the sharp cold of the champagne.
My breathing catches. “More,” I beg. “Please.”
Finn moves me until the back of my knees hit the edge of the large tub. “Sit,” he instructs. I perch on the ledge, and fresh goosebumps rise on my skin as my ass meets cold porcelain. “Don’t worry, baby,” he says, his lips quirking at my expression. “I’ll warm you up.”
He puts his broad palms on my bare thighs, spreading them apart. Oliver trickles more champagne over me, and the liquid trails down over my breasts, pooling in my belly button, and trickling between the folds of my pussy.
“It seems a pity to waste this,” Finn murmurs. He gets on his knees and pushes his head between my legs. He parts me with his thumbs, and his eyes feast on me.
A year later, their open admiration still sends a thrill of shock through me. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says. His tongue teases me, toying with the opening of my slit, before sucking my clitoris into his mouth.
I whimper, biting my lower lip as desire shudders through me. I grip Finn’s dark hair between my fingers and throw my head back, losing myself in pleasure as he licks, nibbles, and sucks. My breathing comes in short bursts.
Oliver isn’t idle. His thumbs smear the champagne all over my nipples, and his mouth follows, heating me up. My body threatens to erupt into flames, and my mind is foggy and clouded with lust.
“Sip.” Oliver holds his flute to my lips, and I take a gulp of the cool liquid. “We don’t want you to get overheated, do we?”
I close my fingers around his wrist. Pulling his hand near, I suck his fingers, and his eyes fill with dark amusement. “You want a cock in your mouth, baby?”
Absolutely.
Oliver removes his clothes as well. His thick cock springs out, hard and ready, and I lick my lips, holding his gaze in mine. “No hands,” he orders. “I want to see your pretty lips wrapped around my dick, honey.”
“Bossy,” I murmur with a grin. Who am I kidding? I love it. I take his length in my mouth, my tongue swirling around his head.
Oliver throws his head back. “Miki,” he groans. “You are killing me here.” His hand presses against the back of my neck, not pushing, just touching me, letting me set the pace.
Finn slides two fingers deep into my pussy and twists them to find my g-spot. I whimper into Oliver’s cock. “You taste so fucking good, Miki,” Finn rasps out. “Champagne has nothing on you.”
His tongue circles my clitoris while he pumps his fingers in and out of me. I moan around Oliver’s cock.
Blood pounds in my ears as my orgasm nears, and I pick up the pace, bobbing my head faster on Oliver’s shaft. It’s all too much. Finn’s head between my legs, Oliver’s length in my mouth—I can’t hold on. My climax races toward me like a freight train. My body quivers, my insides tighten, and I can’t hold back, not even if I want to. I shatter, feeling Oliver erupt in my mouth at the same time.
“Happy anniversary to us,” I breathe when I ca
n think again. I reach for Finn’s hard cock. “Can I take care of you?”
He chuckles and lifts me to my feet, helping me into the shower and turning the steaming jets on. “What makes you think we’re only doing one round of this?”
At three on the dot, we show up at Piper’s. The kitchen is a scene of frantic activity. To an outsider, it looks chaotic as Piper and Sebastian weave in and out, boiling potatoes, chopping celery and carrots and brining turkey. “Miki,” Piper calls out, a relieved expression on her face. “Thank heavens you’re here. We’re running behind.”
“Not to worry, we brought cheese and crackers.”
Last year, Piper’s tables almost broke under the weight of all the food she made. Judging by the state of the kitchen, it’s exactly the same this year. “I talked to Leah twenty minutes ago,” I tell my friend. “She’s on her way, with pies.”
Leah and Ben kept seeing their counselor and it saved their marriage. They both were unhappy with the way things were, but neither of them wanted to admit it. They’ve made drastic changes to their lives in the last six months. They sold their Upper East Side apartment and bought a bakery in the Hamptons, just as Leah wanted. They’ve been open since September. Leah’s still getting used to her early mornings and is likely to fall asleep at seven in the evening, but she tells me she’s happier than she’s been in a long time.
As for my parents? Nothing’s changed. My dad still cheats on my mom; she still turns a blind eye. They’re in Tuscany right now on vacation, probably because my dad feels guilty about his latest bout of adultery. Whatever. I don’t approve, but it’s not like they’re ecstatic about my unconventional relationship either. We’ve agreed not to discuss it.
“Just as well,” Sebastian pipes up. “I’m shit at dessert.”
Sebastian and Daniel are Bailey’s partners. “Where are the other two?” I ask him.
He grins. “Working, of course. Bailey and Daniel will give you a run for your money, Finn. Crazy workaholics, all of you.”
Finn shakes his head. “Not me, buddy. I haven’t cracked open my laptop or looked at my phone all day. Piper, how many people are you expecting?”
She stops stirring what appears to be pumpkin soup and starts to count. “Bailey, Sebastian, and Daniel,” she says. “Daniel’s mom and sister are coming too. Then there’s Gabby, Carter, Dominic, and Noah. Katie, Adam, and the twins. Wendy, Hudson, Asher, and Natalie.”
“You can’t count Natalie,” I interject. “She’s six months old.”
My friend glares at me. “Miki, if you interrupt, I’ll lose count.”
Oliver grins. “Seventeen so far,” he says. “Four kids, thirteen adults. Keep counting.”
I squeeze Oliver’s arm. “My hero,” I say, fluttering my eyelashes in his direction, drawing a chuckle out of him. Piper rolls her eyes at me. “There’s the three of you,” she says. “Finn’s grandmother, Finn’s grandmother’s neighbors. Wyatt, Owen, and me. Ben and Leah. I think that’s everyone.”
“Twenty-eight people.” Finn whistles through his teeth. “How big is your turkey?”
“Four turkeys,” Piper replies. “We can’t run out of food on Thanksgiving.”
I couldn’t agree more with her sentiment.
The meal is amazing. I eat myself into a food coma. I’m idly contemplating yet another slice of pie when Leah slips into the seat next to me. “Great pies,” I tell her. “I can’t decide which one was my favorite. Probably the apple, but I think I’m going to have another slice to make sure.”
She smiles indulgently. “Just as well mom’s not here,” she replies. “Though once you told her about your threesome, she’s at least stopped lecturing you about getting remarried.”
I grin. “I told her I'd get graphic about what goes in what slot if she didn’t knock off the lectures.”
“You didn’t?” Leah’s eyes go round with shock, then she starts laughing helplessly. “Oh Miki, I wish I’d been there. The look on her face must have been priceless.”
“It was.” Finn, Oliver, and Hudson are standing near the window, all three men in animated conversation. I’m guessing they’re talking about Imperium’s new headquarters. “How’s the bakery?”
Her smile transforms her face. “It couldn’t be better. I sold almost a thousand pies last week. I’m thinking about hiring another assistant.”
I’m so happy for my sister. “That’s great, Leah.”
“Isn’t it?” Her eyes are on Ben as he chats with Daniel. “I thought Ben would miss his life in Manhattan, but he loves it in the Hamptons.” She sighs. “I can’t believe I thought he was cheating.”
“Well, there’s the Cooper Curse.”
“A curse we both broke.”
Oliver’s laughing at something. Finn’s lips are quirked up, his expression one of amusement. I ogle the two men shamelessly. I can’t believe we’re together. “You’re right,” I reply, getting up so that I can tell Finn and Oliver how much I love them. “We didn’t break the curse. We shattered it.”
Lovely readers, this is a bittersweet moment; The Hack is the last book of the Menage in Manhattan series. I’ve very much enjoyed hanging out with Bailey, Gabriella, Piper, Wendy, and Miki, and I hope you have too.
If you enjoyed this menage boxed set, might I suggest your next read? Dirty - the Complete Collection features 4 steamy, small-town menage romances. Flip the page for a preview of Dirty Therapy, the first book in the Dirty Series!
The small town of New Summit is about to get dirty...
We’ve never been interested in rules.
Never been interested in what other people think.
When we see something we want, we get it.
We want the good girl.
She’s lush. Curvy. Beautiful.
She’s looks demure, but she has a wild side.
We can tell.
We’re going to make her moan.
Make her beg for more.
Make her forget everything but our names.
It’s time for the good girl to be a just little bit bad.
The Dirty Boxed set:
Four snarky heroines. Eight smoking hot men waiting to become your new book boyfriends. Four small town MFM menage romances. No cheating. No cliffhangers. HEA guaranteed!
Includes:
Dirty Therapy
Dirty Talk
Dirty Games
Dirty Words
Do you enjoy fun, light, contemporary romances with lots of heat and humor? Want to read Boyfriend by the Hour (A Romantic Comedy) for free? Want to stay up-to-date on new releases, freebies, sales, and more? (There will be an occasional cat picture.) Sign up to my newsletter! You’ll get the book right away, and unless I have a very important announcement—like a new release—I only email once a week.
A Preview of Dirty Therapy by Tara Crescent
My O is missing. Two therapists are going to help me find it.
Two hours after Dennis proposes, I find my fiancé with his d*ck buried in Tiffany Slater’s hoohah, and he has the nerve to suggest it’s my fault.
Because I’m frigid.
Sure, I’ve never had an orgasm with him, or with anyone for that matter, but relationships are about more than good nookie. (Not that it was ever good. Adequate is more like it. Okay, who am I kidding? Dennis couldn’t find his way down there with a flashlight and a map.)
Now I’m determined to find my missing O with the help of two of the hottest men I’ve ever set eyes on. Therapists Benjamin Long and Landon West. If these two men can’t make me come, then no one can.
I shouldn’t sleep with them. I shouldn’t succumb to their sexy smiles. I shouldn’t listen when their firm voices promise me all the pleasure I can handle.
I can’t get enough. But when a bitter rival finds out about our forbidden relationship, everything will come crashing down.
CHAPTER 1
Mia:
I’m going to sum up the suckitude of my life with a three-point list.
Though I haven�
��t had sex with my boyfriend for over a month, he proposed last night in an extremely crowded restaurant, and I said yes. Because everyone was looking at me and I didn’t want to be the girl that broke his heart in a public setting. Even though I wasn’t really sure I wanted to marry Dennis.
Once I got back home, I started thinking about whether we were doing the right thing. So, I went over to his place to talk to him, and I found him plowing his dick in Tiffany Slater’s willing pussy. That wasn’t good.
I started yelling. Instead of groveling, he yelled back. “You’re frigid,” he accused me. “I’ve never been able to make you come.” Right. As if it’s my fault that I have to draw him a map to my clitoris.
(Okay, I lied. This is a four-point list.) Worst of all, when I threw his stupid engagement ring at his pasty-white butt, I missed. Big dramatic moment—ruined.
“So there you have it,” I finish reciting last night’s humiliating events to my best friend, Cassie, while unpacking a new shipment of cocktail dresses. “Can my life get any worse?”
It’s eleven in the morning, or as I like to think of it, ‘Treat Time.’ Usually, this is my favorite part of the day. The store is quiet, and I can arrange the clothing neatly on hangers, organizing them by color and function. I can fiddle with the display cases of costume jewelry and make sure that everything is perfect.
Cassie, who runs the coffee shop next door, is my supplier of treats. She’s watching me now, her eyes wide. “Dennis never made you come?” she asks, honing in unerringly to the most embarrassing part – the lack of orgasms. “Mia, the two of you dated for a year.”
Ménage in Manhattan: The Complete 5-Book Ménage Romance Collection Page 104
