The Proposal

by Kitty Thomas

  Soren reaches her and drags her kicking and screaming back to the pool's edge, back to the spot in the best view of the cameras.

  “I'm going in. Guard the door,” I say to Dayne.

  “You know what Soren said.”

  “I don't care. I want to be in there.”

  “I want to be in there,” he says. It's clear the only reason he agreed to play bodyguard is that this was Soren's thing. He's not going to go along with me joining in while he's left out in the cold.

  “I'll go in for a bit then I'll trade places with you,” I offer.

  Dayne seems to consider this. “Soren won't like it.”

  “Fuck Soren. I know he thinks he's the big bad alpha male but we've got to stand up for ourselves or he'll run right over us. Is that really the way you want to spend the rest of your life? Playing his butt monkey and needing to be allowed to fuck your own girl? We have contracts with her, too. We're just as in this as his royal highness in there.”

  We all agreed we'd share her equally, but I know Soren has been establishing the pecking order, and if he thinks I'm going to just quietly go along with that, he's wrong.

  Dayne lets out a sigh because he knows I'm right. “Go. I'll cover you.”

  I slip my key card into the slot and go inside.

  “I thought I told you to guard the door,” Soren says, his voice far colder than I expected this early in the game. But he doesn't like being told no. And our Livia is turning out not to be as obedient as Soren might have preferred. But I'm good with it. I like a little fire. I like the struggle.

  “And I thought I told you I wasn't taking orders from you,” I say.

  We stare each other down. If he thinks I'm looking away just because he's got a good solid thirty pounds of pure muscle on me, he doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does. I'll take this motherfucker to the mat for the next five decades if need be.

  Livia practically flings herself on my mercy. I wrap my arms around her, feeling her warm soft skin pressed desperately against me. I place a gentle kiss to her forehead and stroke her hair. I'm not about to save her, but I'll let her believe it—for a moment at least. I enjoy this role as the hero, her savior from the evil villain, Soren.

  He can play the big bad wolf all he wants to, as long as she runs to me for protection. I was the one who held him back the night of the proposal after all. In that moment when I'd put my hand on his shoulder to stop him, the gratitude in her eyes was so intoxicating that it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself when I drove her home. But I was a good boy. I didn't want to destroy the role she'd given me in her life. A part of me still doesn't.

  For months I've fed on this hero worship from that single moment.

  She thinks something similar is about to happen now, and a part of me hates that I'm not about to receive that same gratitude, that I may erase everything I've built. But the problem is, I'm just too greedy. I've had a taste of her. She's in my system. There are no brakes on this train anymore.

  She begins to understand the true state of things as my hand slips underneath her coverup to slide inside her bikini bottoms, stroking her ass. She tries to struggle, but within a few moments she's grinding her tight little body against me, whimpering.

  “Please, Sir,” she says to me, and I groan at that. I hadn't expected her to remember these rules, not when she's scared and it's all so new. From the way she's grinding on me it's impossible to tell if she's begging me to keep touching her or if she still wants me to rescue her from this situation.

  I know I can't take Soren in a fair fight, but if I wanted to save her, Dayne would burst in here and back me up. I look back to the door to find his shrewd gaze observing this entire scene. Oh yeah, he's up for playing hero if need be. That's the beauty of this little power triangle. Soren may be the strongest, but Dayne and I tend to form alliances when he goes too far.

  I bend to whisper in Livia's ear, “I'll make sure the footage gets deleted.” I hope this small protective gesture keeps her looking at me the way she's been looking at me since that night. I thought I'd lost her after my lewd outburst at the attorneys' offices the day the contracts were signed. But lust had too quickly overpowered her distress, and by the next day it was forgotten and I went back to pretending I wasn't the type of man who'd say something like that in front of strangers just to humiliate her—that I wasn't the type of man who deliberately did things like that because I got off on it.

  She looks up at me, unshed tears in her eyes. “How will you make sure?”

  I arch a brow as if to ask how do you think? But I answer the question anyway. “Money, of course. People will do anything for the right price.”

  I immediately regret these words because I know she thinks I'm putting her in that category as someone we bought, but I've known for months now that she wasn't quite what we first assumed. Even so, it was threats, not promises, that sealed her to us. With the way this was handled, she shouldn't care what we think of her at all. But I know she does.

  I continue to stroke her hair as she leans against me.

  “Please,” she whispers. And I know she does want a rescue. I can't pretend I don't know what she's asking for. She doesn't want to perform for the cameras.

  I want to lie to her and say there's nobody in the security room—no one will see this at all—but the one thing I won't do is lie to her. I tilt her chin up to mine and capture her mouth in a kiss that steals her breath.

  “That's it,” I growl into her mouth. “Be a good girl for us.”

  She gives up the fight and melts into me. She doesn't resist when I pull her cover up off. Then Soren is behind her, unhooking her bikini top.

  She pulls away and looks in my eyes again, a silent plea.

  “You're safe. I promise,” I say. I don't know what she needs to feel safe from. Is it safety from exposure to other leering gazes? Does she worry that we'll judge her? For something we set up?

  I'm not fully sure what I'm promising her, and I'm not sure she does either, but she lets Soren take her top off. Then he pushes the bikini bottoms down over her hips.

  She jumps when he smacks her ass.

  “Get in the pool,” he says.

  She's still clinging to me. She only lets go so I can pull the T-shirt over my head.

  “You're loving this shit, aren't you?” Soren asks, giving me a derisive glare.

  “What shit?”

  “The way she clings to you like you're the good guy.”

  “Maybe I am the good guy.”

  He laughs at this. “Sure, Griff. You're on the short list for new saints.”

  I ignore his barb. He's jealous that Livia responds to a bit of softness, something he isn't as equipped to give. He knows it puts him at a disadvantage, and so he plays raw power instead.

  I take her hand and guide her into the pool with me. Soren raises a brow at this.

  “Okay, fine. You can help.” He doesn't have to tell me what to do. I've been jerking off thinking about this for weeks. Except in the original plan he'd simply order her to do it. Somehow it's hotter if I hold her in place.

  I move her to the wall near Soren, positioning her right in front of the jets. You can't tell me pool manufacturers don't know what they're doing when they place these jets where they do. They're at the perfect height for the average woman to press her pussy against it, letting the water pulsate and massage her to orgasm.

  Livia grips the edge of the pool and lets out a gasp as the powerful jets force water against her clit. I hold her hips in place so she can't pull away from the relentless pulses.

  I grab her breast roughly with my free hand and bite at the side of her throat like some out of control animal. She's moving, but not pulling away. She's moving with the water, rotating her hips to enhance the experience, moaning as she gives herself over to the water, to us.

  I look up to find Soren moving closer. He's discarded his swim trunks. He sits on the edge of the pool, fully erect, his legs on either side of Livia. Without being told,
she bends closer and takes him into her mouth, but he pushes her off him.

  “I didn't say you could touch my cock,” he says, clearly displeased by her show of initiative.

  “I-I'm sorry, Master.”

  This just makes my dick harder. I know she isn't ready, I know she can't take it yet, but I desperately want to fuck her ass right now while the jets continue to ravage her cunt. I tease her back entrance with the tip, and she whimpers.

  “Please, Sir,” she whispers, panicked, trying to turn to look at me, trying to protect her vulnerable ass from my probing dick.

  “Don't you dare. I will fucking drown you if you take her ass,” Soren says. And a part of me isn't sure if he's saying this for effect to try to steal the hero title from me or if he's serious. “You know I get to take her ass first.”

  Another whimper from her.

  Last night when we drew straws for who gets to do what when, Dayne got first fuck, Soren got second, which meant he got her ass first. I got the leftover first—first punishment, something I know Soren wants, so maybe I can negotiate a trade on the honeymoon.

  But for now I just say, “Oh be serious, Soren. You know she'll never be able to take you first. You're too fucking big and you know it. It needs to be me or Dayne first.”

  “Never,” Soren says. He looks from Livia to me, back to Livia again, and then finally to me.

  “Jerk me off, Griffin.”

  I swear there's some kind of psychic link between the two of us or maybe we've just been sharing women too long because I know exactly what he wants. I can read his unspoken demand as if it came engraved on his pretentious-as-fuck formal stationery. And all at once, he and I are back on the same team.

  I grip his cock and jerk him off as requested. He leans back, bracing himself with his hands pressed against the concrete behind him. I can't help admiring the way his abs flex when he moves. We all work out, and we're all fit, but he has that natural extra bulk that helps him command every room he enters.

  “Harder, don't be a little girl about it,” he says.

  I squeeze harder, trying to actually cause him pain now for that remark, but he doesn't give in. instead he bucks his hips with my movements, and I relax my strangle hold on him just enough to give him actual pleasure.

  I can see when he's close. Just before he comes, I lean down to Livia's ear. “Open your mouth.”

  She does, and I grip the back of her neck with my free hand, and then aim his cock into her mouth. He releases into her as I'm careful not to let her lips close fully over his flesh. I move a hand to her throat, urging her to swallow.

  “Such a good girl,” I growl in her ear. She's moving again, bucking hard against the jets as they finally take her over the edge. Soren finishes and slips from her mouth as she screams out her release.

  I press her harder against the pulsing water not letting her go until she's fighting and struggling to escape the overstimulation.

  “Kiss it and thank me,” Soren says.

  I finally let her move away from the flow of water. She obediently kisses the tip of his cock and says, “Thank you, Master.”

  In this moment she is so soft, so demure. So inviting.

  I spin her around so her back is to the pool's wall and hike one of her legs up over my hip. She lets out a whimper of surprise as I surge into her. A moment later I'm fucking her and she's gripping onto my shoulders trying to hang on for the ride.

  Soren has recovered by this point and sits up and moves closer to us, he strokes and squeezes her breasts from behind, then drags one hand up her throat until he's pressing his thumb into her mouth. She sucks on it and moans while I fuck her even harder.

  I roar out my release as she comes again, her cunt quivering and gripping and milking my cock as if her life depended on my pleasure.

  And I am very pleased.

  I pull out, get out of the pool, and put my T-shirt back on. I leave Livia with Soren and go into the hallway to tag out with Dayne.

  “Use one of the metal chairs inside to block the door,” I say when I get outside.

  “What? Why?” Dayne asks.

  “Because I'm going to the security room to make sure those fuckers don't think they're going to make their own private porn backup before I get down there.”

  “Why didn't we just do that to begin with?” he asks.

  “In case she ran, I guess. You know Soren. She's too far gone to run now so a chair will do.”

  Dayne is beyond annoyed, and it takes a lot to annoy him. Usually he's pretty laid back, the least likely to fight about anything because half the time he just doesn't care. But with Livia it seems all bets are off.

  I wait and guard the door while Dayne shoves the metal chair up under the metal handle, glaring at me as he does it. We're lucky the door pushes inward instead of opening out, so we even have this option. Fate apparently smiles down on us.

  When everything is secured, I take the elevator to the basement level. I go down a long depressing slate gray hallway, past the laundry and maid's areas filled with giant metal racks of cleaning supplies. Finally I get to a small room at the end right next to the emergency exit.

  I open the door without knocking, mostly because I want to see how badly these guys spook. And it's a sight to behold. You'd think being the security team, they'd lock this door—at least when they've got their dicks out, jerking off to X-rated security footage.

  They both jump nearly a foot out of their chairs when I let the door bang against the wall and step inside.

  “Mr. Macdonald,” they say in unison like I'm a visiting dignitary and they've spent hours practicing this greeting. It doesn't have quite the right tone with their dicks hanging out, though. Realizing the problem, they both zip up quickly.

  “What are you doing down here?” one of them asks. His name tag says Drake, and I'm pretty sure that's not his real name.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “I came to make sure that when this is done one copy and only one copy gets made, that it is given to me, and that the main files are deleted. I've got extensive computer security knowledge so don't think you'll slip something past me. I'll be checking to make sure everything's properly wiped, and there isn't a hidden backup somewhere.”

  I can tell from their faces my suspicions were right. They did think they were each getting a video to take home with them.

  “Oh, come on!” the other one says. “Help a guy out.”

  “That's my wife on that screen,” I say. It's the first time I've said this word out loud or even thought this word. And while I know my name isn't on the marriage license, My contract with her is just as binding as any marriage, covering all the same things and more.

  “I thought she was married to that other dude.”

  I'm saved from having to entertain this asinine comment as I watch Livia, Soren, and Dayne on the screen leaving the pool area.

  “Just make me a copy of the footage,” I say. I'm impatient with this and want to go back to the room.

  23

  Soren

  The Mile-high Club

  The Present.

  We slept in and had a very late lunch, so we didn't get on the jet until three pm. We should arrive in Costa Rica by eight or eight-thirty at the latest. Because the flight is short, no one will be sleeping, but that doesn't mean the bed won't get used. It's the pilot, co-pilot, Dayne, Griffin, Livia, and me today.

  Dayne and Griffin are on their laptops trying to catch up on some work before they get side-tracked and distracted by the honeymoon. Livia is reading a book. Or she's attempting to. She hasn't turned the page in over five minutes, so either she's pretending to read or she's reread the same paragraph twenty times. If ink could show wear on a book from being looked at too much, Livia's intense gaze would have melted several lines right off the page, leaving only blank space and a mystery behind.

  She glances up, and I capture and hold her gaze in mine.

  “Nervous?” I ask.

  “A-about what?”

 
For months she's been distracted by the wedding planning and the wedding, too distracted to properly internalize the fact that three men are taking her on a jet out of the country to a honeymoon and a location she doesn't know any details about. Beyond the country, she has no idea where we're going or why we're going there. Dayne was responsible for those details since it's his resort we're going to. He's got someone else managing it for him and doing all the work, but he owns it and gets monthly reports on operations.

  “Come with me,” I say.

  “Where?”

  Dayne and Griffin look up from their laptops. They watch her like I am watching her. I don't know how long this nervous uncertainty will last, but I want to drink up every last drop of it for as long as it does.

  I glance to the back of the plane where the bedroom is, then to her. “You know where.” My cock pushes tight against my pants. She bites her lower lip when she notices my erection. She knows we're about to finish what I tried to start almost a year ago—that I will finally win this battle. Only this time it's better than the first because it won't just be the pilot and co-pilot who hear her come; it'll be Dayne and Griffin as well.

  She turns to the guys as if hoping one of them will save her, but neither of them steps in to answer her silent pleas. They go back to their laptops, but they aren't working anymore. They're listening and waiting to see what will happen next.

  I stand and move into her space just like I did almost a year ago. I tower over her, and her gaze drifts back to the guys on the other side of the plane.

  “No,” I say. “Look at me. They won't help you.”

  Her gaze drifts back to mine. I stroke her cheek. “I could just take it,” I say.

  The look in her eyes is equal parts fear and arousal. She wants me to just take it. She wants me to throw her down on the bed and just take it. She's not brave enough yet to be that honest, but I got a taste of her last night. I know where she lives. I know she's not the vanilla suburban hell trying to trap me that I feared. She is my equal, my perfect match, my opposite polarity. She is the fire to my ice, the surrender to my conquest. She is perfect.