Billionaires for Charity: Part Two (Menage Romance Serial)

by Marie Carnay

  She’d been amazing the other night. But alone, out in the forest, she reached a whole new level. It was more than sex. More than a hot night tangled up in bed. He gripped her hair and she took him deep, sliding as far as she could go before coming back up. He wanted to know what she ate for breakfast. How she liked her coffee. Her hopes, dreams, nightmares. Hell. He wanted her.

  Down and up she worked him, taking him farther and farther into her mouth, licking and teasing with every stroke. “Mmm. Fuuuck—just like that.” He thrust into her mouth, sliding farther down her throat with every stroke until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He groaned his release, spasming and pumping his hot, sticky seed deep into her throat.

  As the last of his orgasm faded, she pulled off him and collapsed onto the grass. He followed suit, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her tight. He kissed her shoulder and shook his head. “I didn’t mean for you to do that. I wanted this to be all about you. To show you how much I want you in my life.”

  Miranda turned her head and smiled. “I wasn’t about to leave you rock hard and unsatisfied. The bulge in your pants was pretty obvious, you know.”

  James grinned. “What can I say? Every time I see you I want to pin you to the wall and steal your breath.”

  “Too bad we’re out in the forest, then.”

  “I think I managed just fine. Don’t you?”

  “I do. But it’s late. We should be getting back, don’t you think?”

  James groaned. “I suppose. Tell me where you want to go. I’ll take you anywhere.”

  Miranda shifted and sighed. “Home. I should go home.”

  “Will do.” He sat up and reached for her clothes. “Here, let me help you dress.”

  The SUV pulled up to her apartment building and regret gnawed inside her. She needed to regroup. Take a break from James and think. But all she wanted was to wrap herself up in him and forget about the real world. Her job, her life. The television.

  She swallowed and turned towards him. “Thank you for taking me away from the city. It was exactly what I needed.”

  He reached out and took her hand, squeezing as he smiled. “You’re welcome. So, when can I see you again?”

  “I—I don’t know. I’m sure you have to work…and so do I.”

  “So tomorrow’s a no, then?”

  “Easy, tiger. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He smiled and cocked his head. “Then how about Friday? Our firm does a happy hour. It’s low key, casual. You can check out our office.”

  The thought of seeing James and Winston in action filled her with excitement and dread. “You’re sure I won’t be in the way?”

  “Of course not. Say you’ll come.”

  “Okay. I’ll come.”

  “Great. I’ll send a car.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. “Until then.”

  She nodded and reached for the handle, climbing out before the last of her resolve disappeared and she begged to stay. “Goodbye, James.” She shut the door and watched him pull off the curb and out into the sea of cars before turning toward the building.

  With a deep breath, she walked inside.

  “It’s about time he brought you home. I was beginning to think you’d fled to Europe.”

  Miranda glanced up and her mouth fell open. “Winston…Hello.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  CLEAN SHAVEN, SLICKED back hair, black suit cut close. Smirk only success could produce. Miranda’s heart sped up, thumpity-thump-thump, as she stared. “What are you…”

  “Doing here?” He pulled himself off the column in the lobby and stepped toward her. “I’m here to make your dreams come true.”

  Miranda blushed and bit her lip. Out of any other man’s mouth, it would be a corny pick up line. A flash of cocky arrogance with nothing behind it. But Winston could actually deliver. If it could be bought, he could buy it. No matter the cost. “I don’t want your money.”

  “Would you settle for my charm?”

  She smiled despite herself. “It’ll do.”

  “Thank god, because I didn’t bring anything else. Well, except this.” He picked up a pink cake box from the console table next to him and held it out. “Custom made. Just for you.”

  Miranda glanced at the box and back at Winston. “You didn’t need to bring me anything.”

  “I wanted to. Open it.”

  She took the box and lifted the lid. A cupcake. An enormous white cupcake with chocolate and vanilla frosting swirled around the top. “You brought me dessert?”

  “Not just any dessert. The best cupcake in all of New York City.”

  “It looks delicious. But it’ll take me days to eat it. It’s huge!”

  He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Then how about you invite me up and I can lend a helping hand?”

  She glanced down at the box and thought of James. Head between her knees, making her come in the bright afternoon sun. Would he want her to say no? Did she want to?

  “Don’t say no.”

  She glanced up and smiled. “Okay, I won’t. Come on, it’s this way.” She led him to the elevators and hit the button. “I’ll warn you, it’s not the Pierre.”

  “As long as you’re there, I don’t care if it’s a fleabag motel.”

  “I do!” The elevator opened and they stepped inside. “I might not be loaded, but I have standards.”

  “I hope I measure up.”

  Miranda hit the button for the tenth floor and rolled her lips over her teeth to keep from laughing. “You’re doing just fine.”

  “Good.”

  They arrived and she let him into her apartment. “It’s not much, but make yourself at home. I’ll get a plate and some forks. Coffee?”

  “I’d love some. Thanks.”

  While Miranda busied herself in the kitchen, Winston walked into her living room and made himself comfortable. Oh my god. I have a billionaire in my apartment. A billionaire I’ve fucked. She ran her fingers over her lips and wondered. Could she date both of them? She could still taste James on her tongue, feel how his cock nudged against her throat in the forest, how he thrust into her and filled her up.

  She wanted it again. Wanted him again. But Winston…Her sex throbbed and she grabbed two mugs. He had fucked her like a stallion. Pumping fast and deep. Dragging orgasm after orgasm from her neglected body. And he was there, in her apartment, bringing her dessert. She couldn’t turn him away.

  Maybe there’d be a way to make it work. All three of them together. She poured the coffee and set it on a tray with cream and sugar and the exquisite cupcake. Here goes nothing. She walked into the living room and set the tray on the coffee table.

  “Mmm. Smells delicious.”

  “It’s just coffee.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the coffee.”

  “Oh.” Miranda blushed and sat down. I’ll never get used to that. She picked up the plate and held it out. “Want to share?”

  “Of course.”

  She dipped her fork into the lush frosting and cut off a bite. As Winston did the same, she opened wide and tasted heaven. Oh my god. Mmmm. Rich and buttery and decadent. The chocolate melted on her tongue and the vanilla perked her taste buds, both flavors mixing together and making magic.

  “Good isn’t it?”

  Miranda nodded. “So…good. Wow.” She took another bite and Winston grinned.

  “That’s how it could be with me and James, you know. Both of us blending together, turning you on, satisfying all your urges.” He lifted a bite to his mouth and Miranda watched as it slipped past his lips.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I want more than a one-night stand.”

  “That’s not what you said Saturday night.”

  He furrowed his brow. “What?”

  Miranda set the cake down and bit her lip. “I heard you. You told James I was a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fuck.”

  “I didn’t use those words.”

  “That’s what you meant. Why the sudde
n change of heart? Is it that James still wants me? You can’t stand to see him win?”

  “That has nothing to do with it.” He set his coffee down and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t usually do relationships, Miranda. I—I’m not good at them.”

  “Have you ever tried?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Winston stood up and walked over to her wall of photos, peering at each one and not saying a word. She was about to give up trying learn anything about him, when he pointed to a picture. It was her as a little girl, swinging in her parents’ arms. “Is this you?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Those your parents?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are they still alive?”

  “They’re retired in Florida. Can’t stand the cold anymore, you know? How about you? Are your parents in New York?”

  Winston snorted. “I’ve never really had one. My mother had me young—she was a prima ballerina and when I came along, I ruined her career. So she opened a studio, started teaching. I was raised by whoever came in the door. She never had time for me.”

  Wow. “I’m sorry. What about your father?”

  “My real dad? I never met him. She said he was with a company and wasn’t interested in raising a kid.”

  Miranda shook her head. “I thought…”

  “That I came from money? No. That’s all my stepfather. Dominic Stone. Oil magnate, shipping baron, billionaire. He met my mother when I was eight. Swept her off her feet and I got dragged along.”

  “You don’t sound happy about that.”

  Winston looked down at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. “You don’t need to hear about my troubled childhood.”

  Miranda set her coffee down and stood up. “I want to.” She stepped over and took his hand, turning him to face her. It didn’t take a psychic to see the sadness in his brown eyes. “I want to get to know you. Not just in the bedroom. But up here—” she tapped on his head before resting her hand on his heart, “—and in here. You can open up to me.”

  He closed his eyes and in that moment, his swagger disappeared. He was just a man standing in front of her. Vulnerable and unsure. “Talk to me, Winston.” She reached out and tugged him back to the couch.

  As he sat, he let out a sigh. “James was right. You’re not like most women I’ve dated.”

  “Then you’ve been dating the wrong ones.”

  “Obviously. So, what do you want to know?”

  “Tell me something about you as a kid. Something no one else knows.”

  Winston frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll go first. When I was a kid, I hated lima beans. So one summer I decided that every time my mom bought them, I’d go into the pantry, take them out, and scatter them in the backyard. I had to do it four or five times. My mom thought she was losing her mind.”

  “Did you ever get caught?”

  Miranda smiled. “Sort of. It was the beginning of spring and before long, guess what? We had an entire patch of lima beans sprouting along our back fence. My mom strung them up and I had to take care of them all summer long. We had more limas than we knew what to do with.”

  “That didn’t turn out like you’d hoped.”

  “Nope. But I learned a lesson. Your turn.”

  Winston looked up at the ceiling and smiled. “When my mom ran the studio, there was a young dancer who came in for lessons a few times a week. She didn’t have a ton of money, so she traded babysitting me on Friday nights for part of her tuition.”

  Miranda nodded.

  “One night when my mom had left—out on a date with Dominic, probably—we dug through all my mom’s old costumes and dressed up like star dancers. Put on a show in front of the mirrors and pretended it was a sold out theater. It was…fun.”

  Winston smiled again and Miranda wanted to wrap him up in a hug. She did stuff like that all the time growing up. “It doesn’t sound like you had much of a chance to be a kid.”

  “Oh…I mean, I did. Just mostly by myself. I didn’t really have anyone to share it with.”

  “Is that why you don’t do relationships now?”

  “Maybe. I guess when you’re raised by anyone other than your parents, you have trouble making a connection.” He angled his body toward her and reached out to stroke her knee. “I’m sorry you heard me say those things to James. I never meant to hurt you. If anything…I was hurting myself.”

  Miranda glanced at the floor. “I thought you weren’t interested in me. So I left. Why stay and get any more attached, you know?”

  “So…you’re attached?” He smirked and the old Winston was back. Full force.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Good. Because for you, I want to try this whole relationship thing. See if I can do it.”

  “Why? I’m just an ordinary woman. There are a million others just like me.”

  “None who stand up on live television and throw themselves under the bus to protect me. You didn’t need to do that, you know. Even if you’d told the truth—looked that reporter in the eye and said you’d fucked us—we would survive. Be okay.”

  “I would never hurt your business like that. I—” She looked up into his brown eyes and tried to smile. “I care about you both.”

  “And I care about you. I want you, Miranda. Any way you’re willing to have me. I’m not walking away. I’ll fight for you if I have to.”

  “What if I can’t choose?”

  “Then don’t. Have us both.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “I’m okay with anything that gets you naked and my cock buried deep inside you.”

  Oh, god. His eyes gleamed and he licked his lips and all the need and lust he inspired filled her. She shouldn’t want two men—shouldn’t be turned on by the thought of both James and Winston. But she couldn’t help it. They brought out different desires. Different wants. James with his gentle words and rough hands. Winston with his wit and insecurities. Damn. She wanted to wrap them up in her arms and never let them go.

  Winston looked her up and down and his gaze hit her like heat from a flame. “Tell me I can have you. Right here. Right now.”

  A throb of desire echoed through her and she couldn’t fight it anymore. She wanted him too. Every bit as much as James. “You can have me.”

  He slid forward, reaching for her dress and tugging it open. “I have to ask.” He inched the green silk off her shoulders and the cold air hardened her nipples. “Did James get to taste that exquisite pussy of yours today? Or will I be the first?”

  Miranda blushed and Winston licked his lips. “The bastard. He’s always beating me to the punch. First kiss—” Winston kissed her thigh and slid to the floor. “First taste of this sweet nectar—” He leaned forward and nuzzled her lace-clad mound. “And now he’s gotten another turn today. I’m beginning to think you want him more than me.”

  Miranda raised an eyebrow and spread her legs. “Show me why I shouldn’t.”

  Winston growled and kneeled between her open thighs. “Oh, don’t worry, babe. By the time we’re done, you’ll remember. For days.” He reached up and took her bra by the straps, yanking it down her arms in a sudden jerk and popping her breasts free.

  With her bra trapped beneath her breasts, he palmed and bounced them in his hands and stroked her nipples with his thumbs. Oh, god. She arched her back in response, moaning as he tweaked and pinched, letting out a whimper as he bent his head to take one in his mouth.

  “Mmm. Please…I need you inside me. Don’t tease me anymore.” She squirmed beneath him and he chuckled around her nipple.

  “Patience. I’m enjoying this.”

  She pouted and he switched breasts, licking and sucking and teasing until her nipples and clit throbbed in rhythm. Jesus. She’d wanted James to take her, but that was nothing compared to now. She needed Winston’s cock. Just as she opened her mouth to beg, he slid his hand lower and cupped her mound.

  “Damn. You�
�re so ready for me. You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?” He tugged her panties to the side and thrust two fingers inside her, filling her up and making her moan.

  “Yes. Please, yes.”

  He pulled back and thrust again, pumping his fingers in and out of her pussy, faster and faster as she groaned and bucked into his hand. With his free hand, he grabbed her thong, twisting it in his fingers before yanking. Hard. The lace tore from her body and he threw the scrap on the floor.

  “That’s better.”

  With a grin, he lifted one leg, propping it up as he worked his other hand, sliding his fingers through her slick juices, amping up her need and desire as he stared at her. Leaning forward, he nudged her swollen outer lips with his nose. “I can smell James’s cologne all over you. He must have taken his time. Got you ready for me. I should thank him.”

  She quivered as he teased her, fucking her with his hand, his lips hovering an inch above her clit. Finally, as Miranda thought she’d die of anticipation, he ducked his head, angling his body to lick a path from his dripping wet fingers to her clit.

  His tongue flicked across her little nub and she cried out, overwhelmed and shocked at the intensity of the pleasure. It burst from her clit, spreading up her body to her breasts and arms and face.

  Over and over he licked, flicking first across and then up and down. Swirling her fleshy hood over her clit again and again. Between the friction of his fingers and the magic of his tongue, Miranda could only shake and pant, her breath coming faster and harder as an orgasm built deep inside.

  Winston curled his fingers inside her and groaned into her pussy and she exploded. White hot light. Deafening silence and bliss. Pure fucking bliss. Oh my god. He pulled away from her and stood up as she fell back onto the couch.

  “Don’t tell me I’ve worn you out.”

  Miranda blinked her eyes open to see Winston shedding his suit. Jacket. Shoes. Shirt. Pants. He slipped his boxers down and she inhaled. Damn she loved his cock. Long and ramrod straight and perfect for sucking. She sat up and reached out, ready to lick him until he came, but he shook his head.

  “I love your mouth. The way you suck me off. Mmm. But right now I want that dripping wet pussy of yours. Stand up, bend over.”