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Two Billionaires Next Door: A Dark Bad Boy MFM Romance

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by Jay S. Wilder




  Two Billionaires Next Door

  A Dark Bad Boy MFM Romance

  Jay S. Wilder

  Contents

  Copyright and Disclaimer © 2016

  1. Zack

  2. Mindy

  3. Ethan

  4. Zack

  5. Mindy

  6. Ethan

  7. Mindy

  8. Zack

  9. Ethan

  10. Zack

  11. Mindy

  12. Ethan

  13. Mindy

  14. Zack

  15. Ethan

  16. Mindy

  17. Zack

  18. Ethan

  19. Mindy

  20. Zack

  Keep in Touch with Jay!

  Copyright and Disclaimer © 2016

  All rights are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  Copyright © 2016

  Two Billionaires Next Door - Jay S. Wilder

  1

  Zack

  My fingers curl, digging into the soft hips beneath my palms. Mindy’s mouth opens wider, forming a delicate ‘o’. Her long, dark lashes flutter and close. I gulp at the sight of her. That tan, velvety skin… the long, silky black hair... the smooth curves and soft lines of her body… I wouldn’t be able to decide which part of her I liked best if a gun were held to my head.

  I drive into her harder and the top of her head hits the pillow above her. Pleasure surges through me, threatening to collect and explode. My balls grow tighter, each motion I make sending them slapping against Mindy’s flesh.

  I take a deep breath, and slow down, making my strokes more deliberate and focused.

  I can hardly help it, though. Any minute and that dam is gonna burst. How could I be blamed, when the woman who haunted my wet dreams for years, is finally in front of me again?

  If only I’d left my dad’s house a minute later I wouldn’t have seen her leaving for work in her scrubs… I would have missed that chance to reconnect, to bring her back where she belonged. To bring her back with me.

  But who knows how long it’ll be before she leaves? One week has passed and I’m already on edge.

  If it weren’t for Ethan and me together she might not even be here.

  Mindy moans louder and reaches a hand out. It lands on Ethan. He shuffles forward, bringing his hips to the edge of the bed. Mindy runs her palm over his cock, tightening her grip on it. It pops into her mouth and she begins sucking. Her already red lips bulge around the member as her cheeks sink further in with each slurp.

  Her lashes flutter again in that way that says she’s about to hit the peak of pleasure. It’s been years since we’ve been naked together and I still remember each detail about her body, still remember the signs she gives off showing what she likes and doesn’t like.

  I hook both my arms under her legs and lift them so I can nail in deeper. A noise of choked surprise leaves her throat. Her walls tighten around me, holding me securely inside her. More groans leave her chest, muffled from the cock still deep in her throat. She convulses against me, her orgasm making me shake.

  The sight is almost more than I can handle.

  I can’t hold back any more. Heat rises all around us in shimmering waves, obscuring my vision. Pleasure doubles and hits me. I groan and contract against Mindy, my hot release shooting deep inside her.

  Ethan groans as well, shoving his hips closer to Mindy’s mouth.

  I gasp and lower my head to get some air. Mindy’s legs are still locked around me, each one brushing one of my shoulders. Sweat trails down my face, kissing my skin with its welcome coolness.

  Everything spins. I wait for the world to right itself and try not to think about what’s going to happen next.

  Mindy squirms underneath me, basically telling me to get off. I slowly pull away and collapse into a sitting position on my bed. She hops up and stands, rummaging around for her clothes. Her wavy hair falls around her face and my fingers itch to brush the strands away. I don’t know if she wants that, though. In fact, she probably doesn’t, so my hands stay where they are.

  Ethan grabs his own pants and hauls them on, then rakes a hand through his blonde hair, making it stand on end. He grins at me, clearly pleased with what’s just happened.

  It was my idea to bring Mindy into the mix. Not only did I know Ethan would like her, I also knew it was my one chance to get Mindy back into my life, even if it was in one of the most superfluous ways possible.

  Mindy pulls a hair tie from a pocket and secures her locks in a low bun.

  “You have to go now?” I ask her.

  She gives me a quick, layered and complicated look. It could mean so many things. “I have to get to the hospital. My shift starts soon and I need to shower.”

  “You can shower here.”

  She finishes pulling her tank top on and bites her bottom lip, considering.

  “Don’t you have scrubs in your bag?” I ask, knowing the answer since I saw the work uniform in mention, sticking out of the top of her bag when she got here earlier.

  She sucks in a sharp breath and wrinkles her nose. “I’d just really like to run back to my place first. It’s more comfortable if I use my own shower.”

  She turns away and grabs her pants, ending the conversation.

  Ethan catches my eye and smirks before going into the bathroom and closing the door. I try to ignore the sting of just getting shot down in front of him.

  Mindy, full dressed, gives me a tight smile. “See you.”

  It’s a bit more than I can handle. We haven’t agreed to meeting up a second time, and though I want to see her again, I have no idea whether she feels the same or not.

  I stand and snatch up my pants, pulling them on as I follow her to my penthouse’s front door.

  “Mindy...”

  She whirls around, her back inches from the closed door. “Don’t.”

  I stare at her.

  She sighs. “Look, Zack, I’m sorry about your dad.”

  I nod, a little lump forming in my throat. “It was time. He was sick for years.”

  Her lips draw tightly together. “It’s still shitty.” She lifts her chin. “But this thing between us, between us and Ethan, it can’t be anything more than what it is.”

  “All right,” I evenly respond. I’m burning to ask if that means she’ll be back, but I’m not going to bare my whole soul. Especially not when it’s likely to be met with a beating.

  When I proposed the idea for her to meet up with Ethan and me, I let her know that we usually make a regular thing out of hooking up with a girl. We don’t usually do a one night stand, I said.

  It was partially true. There were a couple girls Ethan and I only got with once, but only because the vibe hadn’t been right with them.

  With Mindy, the vibe is very, very right. And not just between me and her. I’ve known Ethan long enough to see he enjoyed having her over just as much as I did.

  I definitely don’t want Mindy to be a one-time bang. We have so much more than that. A connection. A history. If I’m lucky, a future.

  She nods. “Good.”

  “Let me call my driver to take you...”

  “No,” she dismissively answers. “I’ll take the train. Thanks though.”

  She turns and leaves, and even though I know we both just had one of the most amazing times ever in my bedroom, I swear she’s out of there as quick as her feet can carry her.

  2
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br />   Mindy

  My shoes beat the pavement harder, carrying me away from the subway station and towards my duplex. Away from mid-town Manhattan. Away from Zack, his friend Ethan, and the too-good-to-be-true situation I’d somehow found myself in with them.

  Seven years. That’s how long it’s been since I saw Zack. I thought of him, sure. But mostly because I read about him a lot.

  Or maybe because, hard though it is to think about, I always couldn’t help but feel I’d missed my chance with him. And all because I assumed there was no way in Hell the boy down the street, the one with chocolate brown eyes, dimples and a crooked smile, could be the one for me. I had dreams, ones that didn’t involve staying home, marrying a childhood friend, and popping out two babies before you could legally drink. Mostly the dreams I harbored involved leaving the Bronx, traveling the world, and finding an exotic man to call my husband.

  Fast forward to one year shy of thirty and I’m still in Castle Hill, living right around the corner from my parents. I’ve traveled some, going to Latin America and Europe. I still have that taste for faraway places and men with names I can’t pronounce.

  But some other things have changed. I’ve realized just how good life is in the Bronx. It means something to come home at the end of the day and have the bodega owner call you by name. It’s good to know your parents, aunts and uncles, and cousins are all within a fifteen minute walk.

  So I’ve come to see the plus and minuses in my life in a whole new light.

  Except for when it comes to men. God help me, but I’ve still been holding out, waiting for that dream guy to knock on my door—or come into the emergency room of Bronx-Lebanon with a burn that requires me to fully undress him in order to apply care. Really, I’m not picky when it comes to how he shows up, just as long as he shows up.

  According to my friend Katie, though, I’m way too picky when it comes to guy’s qualifications for being my boyfriend.

  And maybe I am. All I know is I want something new and exciting. I guess that’s why I haven’t had a steady boyfriend in over a year, why I often prefer casual flings and hook ups to committed relationships. No one ever seems right for me. I don’t need to spend months with a guy to know it. I can tell from the first date if we’re not connecting.

  It’s also why, even when I was a teenager, I never let myself get attached to Zack. I knew that I couldn’t let myself get sucked into a relationship I might end up regretting being involved in. Even back then it was just sex.

  Just sex…

  The thought sends shivers down my back. I can’t tell if they’re the good or the bad kind.

  It doesn’t matter. No matter what I personally think of Zack, any interactions between us need to happen for one purpose and one purpose only. I lost my chance with him. I’m not going to look like a fool and go groveling back to him now, especially since according to what I read online, his company is worth billions. It makes me shudder to think about just how it would look.

  I rush through a shower and pull on my scrubs, then get back on the subway for the hospital.

  The familiar rush of noise greets me, pulling me into the hospital and making the prior hours of the day fade away.

  “Hey Mindy,” Yolanda, one of the nurses I work regularly with, smiles at me.

  “Hey girl.”

  I go to the hand washing station and start my methodical scrub. My co-worker eyes me.

  “What?” I ask.

  Her eyes linger on me. I look down to study my scrubs. No tears. No stains.

  “You look different.”

  My mouth falls open and then I quickly shut it. Damn it. How the heck am I supposed to keep Zack and Ethan off my mind when I’m hearing the suggestion that one afternoon with the two of them has changed me so much that there’s a whole new air about me?

  I should have known it would happen. When Zack called out to me last week my initial instinct kept me walking. I should have done one better. I should have run. The second I heard his familiar voice, elation filled me, elation quickly followed by terror. Things were always too complicated between me and Zack. I didn’t want to go back to that place.

  He’d caught up to me, though, and explained he was in the neighborhood clearing out his dad’s house. I heard that Mr. Frederick died, of course. And I wondered if that meant Zack would be around. I just tried not to wonder too much.

  I wasn’t fair to Zack. Back when we were kids just hooking up, he wanted more out of me. I knew it then. And yet I had my head so far up in the clouds that I couldn’t see the good guy standing right in front of me. I so often thought I probably missed my chance with him, and I knew if that was the case I was also too late.

  And now we’re years older, things are even more complicated. Zack has made something of himself. The guy sits on those billions, all thanks to his PR firm. He’s doing more than well.

  And if he thought I was interested in him for more than just sex it would look bad. I could come across as a golddigger, especially considering I hadn’t wanted anything substantial from him years ago when he’d been broke and an unknown.

  And then there’s Ethan… I don’t really know the guy, but if he were to come as a bonus for being in a relationship with Zack… Well, damn. That’s a two for one deal no woman in their right mind could resist.

  But I’m going to have to.

  I force myself to smile at Yolanda. My lips stretch tightly, threatening to break against my teeth. “I got a lot of sleep last night.”

  She gives a slow nod. “That must be it. Well, good for you. At this point I’m running on caffeine and fumes.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Sorry to hear that. I know the feeling all too well.”

  David at the desk waves me over, a folder in his hand. I give Yolanda one more smile. “I’m summoned. See you later.”

  The shift passes quickly. Working in an ER means a lot of things. I’ve seen a few situations I wouldn’t wish on the eyes of my worst enemies. I’ve also seen the best in humanity, something that can be forced to come out only under situations in which the shit hits the fan.

  Hands down, the best part about being an ER nurse is being able to get completely sucked into work. When other people, and their families, are depending on you there’s no time for self-absorbed indulgent thinking.

  But this shift is different. As hard as I try, forbidden thoughts creep in during the slow moments. Zack’s mouth against my own. Ethan’s hands on my breasts, in my hair. The way each of them has his own touch, Zack’s soft and slow and Ethan’s strong and commanding. They almost matched in some ways, and yet were each so different. Not twins, but still a pair, the dragon tattoos on their right shoulders the best evidence of this.

  Did they get the tattoos at the same time, the ink a testament to their bond? The last time I saw Zack he’d been as bland as white bread, his body completely unadorned. Now a black and gray outline of a dragon curls around his shoulder, the red and black Chinese one on Ethan’s eerily similar but also unique.

  Thinking about the tattoos—and about the muscles rippling beneath them—sends a delicious shiver down my back.

  It was the first time I’d ever been with two men. If I hadn’t caved and given Zack my phone number when we ran into each other it wouldn’t have happened. The text from him a few days later came out of nowhere, an invitation for a session in the sheets with him and his friend, whose picture was attached.

  I knew having a fling with them was playing with fire, but I had to do it anyway. I had to get burned, at least a little bit. Just so I could know what it was like.

  To say they rocked my world is an understatement. And though I played it cool while at Zack’s, I can’t wait to get back in bed with them.

  Really, Yolanda’s comment hit the nail on the head. How could I be expected to not look different?

  I gave the men no promises for another time, though they told me beforehand they would be open to more meet ups, and Ethan didn’t seem to care either way. The memory of Zack looking
at me at his door, his brown eyes begging me to stay, does something to me. My heart flips and I take a minute to slip into the bathroom and focus on even breathing.

  It’s too late, I remind myself as I stare down at the porcelain sink. I missed my chance.

  I refuse to let Zack think I’ve turned into some shallow girl on the prowl for money. For me to actually have become that wouldn’t be such a far stretch of the imagination. I had big dreams when we were younger, and talked a lot about making millions and traveling the globe. For all he knows I’m on the hunt for a sugar daddy.

  This thing happening between me, him, and Ethan… I don’t know quite what to call it. It defies every other experience. But I know that I have to keep it in check.

  It has to stay just sex, no matter what.

  Even if, unfortunately, I start to have very real feelings for the man from my past.

  Or feelings for both of them.

  I shiver and look at myself in the mirror. Two doting men at one time. It would be any girl’s wet dream.

  It just can’t be mine.

  I take a relieved breath as a call to check over a teenager with a possible broken arm comes in. Fractured bones I can handle. Matters of the heart and wounds from the past?

  Not my area of expertise.

  3

  Ethan

  I flex my fingers against the steering wheel and shift in my seat. The last bit of orange light sneaks between the buildings and across the hood of the Maserati. Memories from the afternoon flood my vision, Mindy’s taste still on my tongue.

  I bite back a groan and suck in a sharp breath. “Shit,” I hiss. The flashes of that sharing session come back to me like bolts of lightning. I’m about to become a cliché and bite down on my knuckles to stop myself from groaning in frustration.

  Bumper to bumper traffic on Broadway is bad enough, but to be stuck in it with a raging boner really takes the cake. Maybe once I get to my penthouse on 95th I’ll text one of my regular girls who can be counted on for a last minute hookup. The problem with all those girls is they always come with, well, problems. They drag their luggage into my bedroom like a Louis Vuitton rolling suitcase, all shined and begging to be paid attention to.

 

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