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Newmar, Lola - A Bride for Two Billionaires [Male Order, Texas] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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by The Male Order, Texas Collection ]- A Bride for Two Billionaires (l


  By the time she woke up in her bed this morning, she’d received a text from Alvin assuring she will be on the list of guests for the Bartlett’s pre-cotillion party. Not bad for a mere forty seconds of work.

  It didn’t take her long to find Brody’s house. It trumped any mansion she or her friends had ever been in, much less lived in.

  A flame of jealousy shot through her at the thought of Taylor being lucky to bag Brody Bartlett, the Texas Prince William. The bitch was always so damn lucky. Anything Amber wanted, Taylor got. Amber wanted to be the beauty queen of Dallas, Taylor got it. Amber wanted to be a local icon, Taylor got it. Amber wanted a rock star boyfriend, Taylor got it. Amber wanted a beautiful billionaire prince, and guess what? Taylor got it. But it was all about to come to an epic end.

  Security gave her no trouble when they confirmed she was a guest on the list.

  As Amber made her way up the winding driveway, she was happy to see how easy it was to go unnoticed. There were hundreds of cars scattered everywhere. There were people everywhere, as well. One large group, consisting of several high-fashion assistants to God-knows-who, was pulling out formal wear, sewing machines, and yards of material. A group of caterers and bartenders pulled out trays of food and catering equipment.

  According to Amber’s father, family members, friends, and business partners of the Bartletts would fly in from around the world to lodge at the Bartlett estate every year for the town’s annual cotillion. It would be held tonight, and it looked like the pre-party was already in full swing.

  The most elite of the south walked around the property, chatting joyously as the held their jeweled masks in front of their eyes. Amber felt a rare pang of insecurity course through her as she watched a crowd of gorgeous young women dressed in royal, custom-designed ball gowns giggle past an even bigger group of even more gorgeous men. The men bowed their heads in polite admiration while the women waved and blew kisses.

  Amber parked her car next to the others and stuffed the micro camcorder in her bra. She hurried out of the car and walked through the quickly growing crowd of help and guests, careful to keep her mask in front of her eyes in case she prematurely ran into Miss Shit Don’t Stink.

  Walking down the halls of the gorgeous mansion, she looked in each room as she passed the open doors. Each held different women being fitted into extravagant designer gowns. More fury burned in Amber’s face.

  Bingo! Right there, in a room at least five times larger than the others she passed, was Taylor Ewing, surrounded by a glam team of makeup artists, hair stylists, and several seamstresses as she stood on a platform in front of a three-way mirror. Behind Taylor stood the hunky Brody, along with another gorgeous beefcake, as they stared at Taylor like she was Playmate of the fucking Century.

  Wait! Is that Jeremiah Giordano!

  Just as the famous designer began to help Taylor out of her dress, revealing that damn body that stole Amber’s crowns so many times, a black-clad female assistant with blood red lips, white skin, and a bob haircut came over and closed the double doors with a big thud that echoed through the high walls.

  “Damn it!” Amber cursed under her breath as she leaned on the wall by the doors. But just a minute later, the doors opened, and the herd of help scattered out. Amber turned her head to get a peek of why everyone was leaving, but that same black-clad assistant once again closed the doors before she could look.

  “What the fuck, bitch?” Amber didn’t give a shit if she was supposed to be blending into the uptight crowd of idiots. This was getting annoying and frustrating.

  The petite assistant cocked a brow and peered over her artsy black-rimmed glasses. “Look, beetch,” she began in a heavy French accent, “Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Stephens need some time to talk to their new girlfriend. Now if you had any sort of brain underneath that horse hair—”

  “Wait!” Amber interrupted, uncharacteristically ignoring the insult. “Girlfriend? Did you say their girlfriend? Taylor Ewing is fucking two men!”

  The assistant gave her a puzzling look. “But you are in Male Order, mademoiselle.” Then she walked off, shaking her head and mumbling in French.

  A smile spread wide on Amber’s face when she almost immediately began to hear a soft, feminine panting coming through the doors. Amber looked around to make sure no one was looking, then she dropped to her knees and peered through the keyhole.

  Holy shit! This was a better surprise than when she babysat for her father’s pro-golf buddy. Instead of walking in to find his two children playing in the house, the golfer had been sprawled out on the couch, naked with nothing but a huge red bow covering his cock. That night she left with two grand. It was still one of her finest accomplishments. Until now…

  Brody already had Taylor’s tits in his mouth, and the other man had his head buried between her thighs. Amber quickly fumbled with her padded bra to reach for the micro camera. Then she gingerly placed the lens in the keyhole.

  Amber grabbed her cell phone from her pocket and scrolled down her contact list to the E’s.

  “Hola? Amber?” Emilio sounded eager on the other line.

  “Get ready to thank me, Emilio. You’re about to become a real star.”

  “You got them on tape?”

  “Oh, I got something better than that. Try Brody and his buddy making themselves a little Taylor sandwich! And get this, she’s committed to both of them!”

  Emilio gasped. “Aye, mira que wow! Double the trouble! Good job, mija. Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll be on my way.”

  Amber flipped her phone closed and waited patiently for her plan to come to fruition.

  Chapter 14

  Jeremiah wasn’t too happy with his “muse”, as he’d called Taylor since they met the day before. When the staff’s half-hour break expired, Jeremiah walked through the doors and screeched in terror at the disheveled pile of hay that had once been Taylor’s updo, and then he covered his mouth in horror at the tiny, black mascara trails that ran down her cheeks from crying out in tortuous pleasure.

  Jeremiah pushed Taylor back down in the salon chair a little too roughly.

  “Hey!” she scolded her new friend. “Keep the butch love taps to a minimum, ok?”

  Jeremiah stood next to her reflection as the glam squad quickly went back to work to repair Taylor’s sex aftermath. He sure looked pissed, standing there with his fists on his narrow little hips, his glossed lips in a thin line of scorn. “Muse, I have a Y-chromosome and an unarguable plethora of male models begging for my sweet little mouth, and I still don’t understand your insatiable need for a good fuck every damn hour.”

  Taylor’s head was being jerked in all directions, hands brushing and curling and spraying in a deep panic, but she remained calm and kept her eyes on Jeremiah’s animated mannerisms. “Look at them, Jeremiah,” Taylor stated flatly. “How insatiable would you be?”

  Jeremiah sucked his teeth and raised his chin in the mirror reflection, crossing his arms as he let out a defeated sigh. “Touché, my muse.”

  Taylor stared back at Jeremiah with a smile, satisfied she had made her point. .

  Jeremiah’s glam squad had worked their magic in less than fifteen minutes. Looking perfectly polished, no one would ever guess Taylor had just been taken by two men at the same time not even a half hour ago.

  After giving her sincere thanks to the staff that helped create her fairy tale ending, she looped her arms through each of the men’s biceps as they stood on either side of her. They looked so dashing in their Tom Ford formal wear. Jay had chosen black on black, and Brody opted for a white shirt under his black vest with a skinny black tie hanging fashionably messy.

  As they strolled happily out of Brody’s mansion, they were met by a round, two-horse drawn carriage. “Is this our ride?” Taylor’s life with Brody and Jay was already getting better and better. “Now I really feel like a princess.” It was gorgeous. Made of white iron, vines of lilies and roses snaked through the metal work.

  “It’s yours,” Brody
said softly in her ear.

  Did she just hear him right? “Mine? You bought me a carriage?”

  “We didn’t buy it. We had it made for you,” Brody corrected. “Well, I had it made for you. Jay was still being a little bitch about you at the time.” That gained Brody a growl of warning from Jay, but Brody just continued as his deep, chocolate eyes seared into hers. “After that first time we met you in Veronica’s yard, I immediately knew you would be our date to the cotillion. So I had this carriage made.”

  “I don’t understand. What made you feel the need to buy me this when you had only planned on asking me on a date?”

  “First of all,” Jay lifted her chin so she diverted her attention away from the pair of puppy dog eyes to Jay’s shimmering jade irises, “no woman of ours will ever be denied feeling anything less than the princess she is. And now that you’re ours, this will be your ride every time we have a ball to attend. We want the whole world to know our Sleeping Beauty is now awake.”

  Taylor couldn’t help but swoon at Jay’s declaration. It had been the sweetest thing Jay had ever said to her, and it melted her heart.

  The cotillion made any pretentious gala in Dallas look like a hoedown. They passed through the giant solid-gold doors and into a paradise of Male Order royalty, the divine music of a live orchestra, and, most importantly, an abundance of the finest food.

  The wealthy guests wore the finest furs, the rarest diamonds, and the latest designs. They danced to the music of the large orchestra, which Taylor found out had flown from across the world to come to perform at this cotillion. She recognized several famous politicians and celebrities, all of whom looked at home within the Male Order crowd.

  Taylor spent most of her time with Brody’s and Jay’s mothers who insisted she meet every single person they knew. She had been most excited to finally meet Brody’s fathers. They’d just arrived from London the night before, and they seemed beyond thrilled to find out their son was in love.

  She was having a conversation with Greta about starting private yoga lessons next week when she felt a large hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Brody and Jay grinning wide at her.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. McCall. We’re going to take a little walk with our Taylor,” said Brody as he grabbed her hand.

  “Right now? But we might miss the bachelor auction.” Both men cocked up an eyebrow at her. “I mean, not that it concerns me or anything.” She attempted her best good-girl smile and allowed them to escort her out.

  “What is this all about?” asked Taylor once they’d stepped outside. They were leading her to the side of the building.

  “Remember when we told you about the day in economics when Brody and I decided to build our own empire? Well, after class that day, we had come by here to make that wish official.” They stopped in front of an old-fashioned water well that stood alone in the open grass. Jay held out a quarter for her to take. “It’s never let us down, and it’ll do the same for you.”

  Taylor smiled at them. They never stopped putting effort into being romantic, and she felt special they felt they could share so much with her.

  “Kiss for good luck?” She held the coin out for each man to kiss before she kissed them both. She closed her eyes and held the coin tightly in her grip as she concentrated on her wish, then she threw it in the well. She turned back to them. “Now we’ll see if it comes true. Come on, let’s go back inside. My champagne glass is almost empty.”

  She began to pull them along, but they both stood still. “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard the coin drop in the bucket,” replied Jay with a slight grin. “It has to drop in the water to count.”

  “I heard it, too,” Brody agreed as he nodded.

  “You’re being silly. I’ve never heard of that. We’ll do it again later. I really want to go back and dance more.”

  Jay shrugged. “It won’t work if you wait. Guess you’ll have to do it again.”

  “Fine,” Taylor complied as she pulled on the rope hanging through the well. When the bucket came in sight, she reached in and felt around for the coin. She gasped when she felt a small velvet box and yanked it out as quickly as she could.

  “Omigod, omigod, omigod!” she rambled in excitement. She ripped the bow off and opened the box, revealing the hugest blue diamond ring she had ever seen. On either side lay two pear-cut white diamonds. She about fainted when she quickly estimated it to be at least ten carats.

  “Taylor Marie Ewing, will you be our bride?” She looked up from the ring when she heard their voices. They both knelt on one knee. She could barely make out their hopeful looks as she struggled to keep her tears from falling too rapidly.

  She looked from Brody to Jay. “Say you’ll marry us, princess,” Jay said when she didn’t speak. Between the cotillion, the two gorgeous billionaires on their knees before her, and the twenty-million dollar engagement ring just seconds from being hers, her mind struggled to make sense of the overwhelming situation. She kept running Brody’s and Jay’s words through her mind several times before they registered.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Both men looked at each other with excitement in their eyes.

  “Yes! Yes, of course I’ll marry you both.”

  The three embraced as they stood in the Texas night. Jay pulled the extravagant ring from the box and placed it on Taylor’s left ring finger. The more she looked at it, the more it took her breath away.

  Brody grabbed her face back and brushed her lips with the pad of his thumb as he stared at them with hunger in his eyes. “You had sealed your fate as our bride-to-be the moment I laid eyes on this angel face. Just about the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

  Taylor felt Jay’s hands tighten around her waist as he moved behind her, his long erection prodding the back of her dress, and then she parted her mouth for Brody’s kiss, needing to feel their warm, hard bodies against her just one more time before they went to the ball.

  But the kiss was interrupted by the slow, loud, mocking clapping of a single pair of hands. “Bravo! Bravo! Y’all are a regular Romeo and Juliet, only Juliet’s fucking Mercutio, too!”

  Horror flooded through Taylor’s body when her eyes came upon Amber standing right in front of them on the lawn. Taylor could feel her hands start to shake against Brody’s chest. The men looked confused, but they came in closer in protection.

  Amber contorted her face into a faux look of surprise. “I’m sorry, B.F.F. Did I get the story wrong? Hmm.” Amber held a finger to her mouth as she looked back and forth between Jay and Brody, emphasizing her mock pondering. “Now which one is the werewolf and which is the vampire? No, no, y’all are much, much too finely built to be a couple of pussy-whipped little boys. Ooh! I know!” Amber clapped once again, the loud sound causing the terrified Taylor to flinch. “Mr. Big and Aidan! The American iconic balance of an alpha dick and a beta pussy. Yes, that’s much more suitable.” Amber’s eyes were now stone-cold and glaring straight at Taylor.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, but this is private property.”

  “I suggest you see yourself off the premises before we put you out,” Jay remarked after Brody.

  “Ooh, all this manly hostility is giving me a wettie.”

  “What are you doing here, Amber?” Taylor felt like she was going to be sick. She’d known Amber long enough to know that glare was the kiss of death. Taylor didn’t know what Amber was up to, but she did know the pampered brat was never up to any good when she wore that expression. Taylor was afraid, and anyone who knew Amber personally would testify that she had every reason to be.

  “Amber?” Brody’s blazed with rage as realization must have dawned on him. Taylor had told them about that fateful night at Dillon’s apartment. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “Oh, of course. Please, do allow me, good gentleman.” Amber curtsied and bowed her head as a menacing giggle escaped her lips. “But, there is one thing I forgot to mention.”

  Taylor closed her eyes as she waited for the black widow to i
nject her poison into Taylor’s fairy tale.

  “I just so happen to now be the proud owner of a sex tape showing the two of you aboard the Ewing Express. Choo-choo!” Amber made a motion like she was pulling on an invisible horn string.

  “Oh God, no.” Taylor struggled to swallow the hot tears that pricked at her eyes.

  “You see, this here,” Amber pulled out a small, white device from her triple-padded bra, “is a state-of-the-art micro camcorder. Very good picture, I’d say.” Amber’s eyes danced with joy as if she relished the pain that radiated from Taylor’s heart. “Maybe if you weren’t such a horny slut, it would have been a little harder for my plan to work out. But lucky me, you didn’t waste a moment of time once you were alone with these two.” Amber gave both men a slow onceover before perversely licking her injected lips with her tongue. “Not that I could blame you, B.F.F.”

  “Brody, get security over to get this psycho out of my sight.” Jay’s voice was full of anger and annoyance.

  “Don’t move a step until I’m done,” Amber ordered ferociously.

  “Why are you doing this, Amber?” Taylor cursed the shaking in her voice, but it was taking everything she had to not have a full-on anxiety attack.

  “Why?” Amber laughed as if the answer was so obvious. “What do you mean why? Because you’re a snotty little bitch who thinks she’s too good for anyone that doesn’t live up to your pathetic Mother Teresa image.”

  No matter what, Taylor had once cared deeply for Amber, and the words hurt. She chocked back a small sob. “You know me, Amber. And you know that’s not true. Maybe you were only out for the title and crown, but you know my heart belonged to my charity work.”

  “Then join the fucking Peace Corps! Become a nun, become a nurse, become a dick-sucker working pro bono for all I give a shit!” Amber’s face was a tomato-red, deepening in color as her voice raised in volume. “Everything was perfect until you and your white-trash mama decided to trample into Dallas high-society like a couple of fucking hippos!”

 

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