by Jenika Snow
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2013 Jenika Snow
ISBN: 978-1-77130-420-7
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: JC Chute
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
UNDER TWO BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS
The Billionaires, 2
Jenika Snow
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Lola rolled her eyes and spritzed more window cleaner on the glass. She could hear them having sex right through the damn walls. If she had to hear them fucking one more time, she would quit. Well, no she wouldn’t, because she really needed this job and they paid her a shitload, but she would seriously scream and rip her hair out. The loud thumping of what she assumed was a headboard banging against the wall was so distracting, she couldn’t even focus on cleaning the damn windows. Her concentration was shot, and if she was being completely honest, she was so turned on she couldn’t think straight.
Being the weekend housecleaner for two of the wealthiest men in Pleasure, Colorado, (yeah, the irony wasn’t lost on her) should have been simple enough, but of course it wasn’t. She had been working for the McKnight brothers for a little over six months and every Saturday and Sunday morning, like damn clockwork, she could hear them tearing up some poor woman -- or two. Tearing might have been an understatement, because if the sound coming through the walls were anything to go by, it usually sounded like the woman was dying.
She grabbed her ear buds out of her pocket and slipped them in her ears. If she was forced to work in these ridiculous conditions, then she was going to tune it out. She ran her finger over her iPod and chose a song that best depicted her current situation. I Can’t Get No Satisfaction by The Stones blasted into her ears and blissfully blocked out all sounds of the debauchery in the next room.
An hour later she took a step back and looked at the study. Everything smelled of lemon disinfectant and shined like brand fucking new. Lola took her ear buds out and slipped them back in her pocket. The time showed a little after ten in the morning, and already her back ached and her stomach growled. She still had three other rooms to clean, too. At least the ‘fuck brothers’ were done with their weekend girlfriends. She left the study and made her way into the kitchen, figuring Ian and Max McKnight would probably be sleeping off their sex marathon until at least mid-afternoon. When she rounded the corner and saw both of them standing at the breakfast bar, she stopped in her tracks. Their backs faced her as they leaned over the counter, their attention on the newspaper. Of course they were shirtless, because there was no rest for the wicked. Her poor, neglected libido raised its head and growled in desire. She wanted to slap the bitch.
So what, if she hadn’t had sex since her last boyfriend -- which was one year, three months and sixteen days ago, but who was counting? Maybe she could sneak out and work on one of the other rooms until they decided to go find something productive to do? Like, for instance, not walking around the house shirtless and tormenting her. She planned on being all stealthy in her retreat, but of course the bottle of window cleaner chose that moment to jump out of her bucket and land by her feet. The plastic bottle hitting the tiled floor was so loud she winced. Ian and Max straightened and looked over their shoulder at her. They weren’t twins, but damn if they didn’t look like they could be. Both were at least a foot taller than her meager five-foot-three frame, with no shortage of muscles or testosterone. They were all man, and damn well knew it.
Max, with his brooding dark eyes and equally dark hair, turned fully around and crossed his arms over his chest, his brow raised at her. He was only a year older than Ian, whose eyes and hair color were a shade lighter. Both oozed Tall, Dark and Handsome -- and she wasn’t immune to it. Hell, they were thirty-five and thirty-six years old, at least ten years older than she, but damned if they didn’t pull off that hot older man look. How many times had she pictured them doing to her what they did to those faceless women every weekend? It was damn near torture knowing that they double-teamed women. Like they were some kind of dual machine that could make every single woman they had behind a closed door scream so many times, Lola wanted to cut her own ears off.
They both stood there and watched her, no one saying anything and the awkwardness increasing with every second. “Um,” she looked around, momentarily forgetting what she was doing. She took a step back and accidentally kicked the bottle of window cleaner across the floor. Wouldn’t you know it, that bastard rolled right over to the McKnight brothers. It stopped between their feet, the blue liquid inside sloshing around, as if to say yes, it was an asshole for putting her in this situation.
A moment passed and then Ian bent down, picking up the bottle. Her mouth went dry as she watched the play of muscles bunching and flexing as he moved. Holy hell. She didn’t even know men could be built like that. When Ian stood back up he made no move to give her the bottle. The brothers stood side-by-side, their chests carbon copies of chiseled perfection. Their pecs were hard outlines atop their chests. Their abdomens were rolling hills, putting the term six-pack to shame, leading down to a defined V-cut of muscle that disappeared beneath the sweats they wore. Mouth gone dry, she lifted her eyes to their faces and looked between them. They wore equally amused expressions and she knew damn well they had seen her eye-fucking them.
Her face heated to an uncomfortable level and, like any other time she was mortified, she started to sweat. She knew she was the color of a ripened tomato. It was a curse, a damn-it-all-to-hell curse. Without saying anything, Lola walked over and grabbed the bottle, mumbling her apologies under her breath. Ian let her have the bottle without any resistance and she was thankful that neither of them pointed out the obvious, that she had been checking them out. It wasn’t her fault though, because men who clearly worked out like they did and had bodies to show for it had to know the effect they were going to have on the female population.
Lola didn’t wait around for them to finally open up those perfectly delectable mouths and call her out. Gripping the bottle like she could strangle the life out of it, she practically sprinted out the patio doors. The weather was nice, and she needed to get out of that house and away from those men. She may have wanted them in the worst sort of way since first sight, but she wasn’t a fool. Men like them didn’t want a woman like her. She was their maid, for heaven’s sake, and she knew the kind of women they took to bed -- women that came from high-class, wealthy families. They were women with mile-long legs, big fake tits, and unnaturally blond hair.
Once in the pool house with the door shut behind her, she set her bucket of cleaning supplies down and exhaled roughly. She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror in front of her: Her dark hair wasn’t smooth and straight. The curls were unruly because of the humidity and it looked like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical outlet. She was short, by normal standards --hell, standing next to Ian and Max, she only came up to their delicious chests. Her breasts were probably the best assets on her body -- not fake and of a pretty good size, with a natural slope to them. But it was clear the McKnight brothers preferred the silicone look.
She cupped her breasts through the thin white T-shirt and tilted her head. Not bad, and to hell with them if they thought any less. Forgetting abo
ut them for about five minutes, Lola went about the task of cleaning the pool house. Bras and panties littered the floor and couch, and she wasn’t even going to get started on what she found in the bedroom. Who in the hell, especially at their age, fucked so much? They were nearly forty, for fuck’s sake. Of course it wasn’t like they were ancient, but she was younger than them and she wasn’t even getting any. All that money, plus their good looks, probably attracted women like bees to honey. What she needed to do was quit thinking about their fine asses and get the job done, so she could go home and not have to worry about seeing them for another week. Of course, that was easier said than done.
Chapter Two
When Lola was finally finished with the disgusting pool house, she headed outside and immediately heard the sound of feminine laughter and splashing water. Great, maybe she’d walk in on a nice orgy. Cue the freaking sarcasm and eye rolling. She opened the door and lo and behold, found two scantily clad women in the pool, atop Ian and Max’s shoulders, playing a game of chicken. Their monstrous breasts jiggled as they tried to knock the other one down. Why in the hell they even bothered wearing those miniscule triangles was beyond her. The material only covered their nipples, and that was stretching it.
Water splashed in every direction. Did these men have lives, outside of fucking women? For as much as they screwed during weekends, she doubted they could even get it up during the week. For all she knew the two women squealing like schoolgirls were the same from the previous night. It sure would explain the marathon session, and the overly loud screams coming through the wall. There she went again, thinking about their butts, naked, as well as other parts of their anatomy.
Lola tried to be inconspicuous because she was still embarrassed about her encounter with them in the kitchen, but of course she couldn’t go unnoticed.
“Hey, Lola,” Max’s deep voice called out to her and she stopped and looked at him. “Wanna come in for a little dip? It’s kind of hot out today, and I know you must be stifling in all those layers.” He did a really slow once-over of her body and she felt her face heat.
Looking down at her clothes, she had no idea what he was talking about when he said “layers.” She was wearing a thin-ass T-shirt and cutoff jean shorts – probably the least amount of clothing that would be considered acceptable in the company of one’s bosses. But she was cleaning their house, and they had never specified her wearing a uniform. If they didn’t like what she wore to clean up their whorehouse, then they could come out and tell her.
“Um--”
Before Lola could get another word out, one of the buxom blonds decided to answer for her.
“She’s the help, isn’t she?” The way she looked at Lola, like she was a piece of dog shit on the bottom of her shoe, had Lola’s hackles rising. Of all the fucking nerve…
The other woman on Ian’s shoulders started giggling and said, “Just let her go back to cleaning up after you stallions. That’s what she’s good for anyway.” If Lola’s face could get any hotter she was going to blow a gasket, but to her utter surprise Ian and Max looked at each other and tossed both women backward into the pool. There were a couple high-pitched screams as they realized what was happening and then silence as they were submerged in water. Lola knew her eyes had to be the size of saucers, and she didn’t stop a laugh from spilling forth.
Serves those skanks right.
The ‘Barbie twins’ surfaced a second later, sputtering as their mascara ran down their cheeks. “It’s time for you guys to leave.” Ian looked at Lola as he dismissed the blonds. Their mouths hung open, and they looked to Max for help.
“Sandra, Mechelle.” They swarm over to him, expecting him to fawn all over them and their pitiful state, but what he said next had their perfectly made up faces going as red as the lipstick they once wore.
“Get the fuck out of our house.”
They were too stunned to speak for a solid minute. Then one of them sputtered out, “Max, baby, what’s wrong? We were having so much fun.” Lola didn’t know which woman was which, and it really didn’t matter, because the show she was getting was as good as gold.
“You don’t talk to Lola like that, understand?” Max’s voice was calm, but deadly so. Lola was shocked to hear him call her anything besides Miss Shyne. In the six-plus months she had worked for them, neither brother had ever called her by her first name. Take that little surprise, and the fact he was pissed at his fuck buddy for speaking down to her, and it opened something up in Lola that she wasn’t sure she wanted to explore.
“You two aren’t welcome here anymore. Get your shit and leave.” Ian swam away from the three of them and climbed out of the pool. He was so close to her that she could see the individual beads of water slide down his body. She wanted to follow those drops with her tongue and see where they disappeared.
Never had someone stuck up for her like they did. It was refreshing and made her look at them in a different light. Here she thought them egotistical, sex-starved assholes, but in reality they didn’t look down at her. It had her smiling.
“Excuse me,” Ian’s deep and gruff voice startled her out of her thoughts and before she could move he was pressed against her.
“W-What?” She sounded like a stuttering fool, but the fact that his big, wet body was pressed against her chest had her heart pounding, and all rational thoughts deserted her. He turned toward her, standing so close Lola felt his warm, sweet-smelling breath slide across her lips. He gave her a wide smile, showcasing his perfect white teeth, and took a step away from her. He held two towels in his hand, and she realized her face was hotter than hell. Damn her genetics.
She watched the women huff and puff their way out of the pool. They murmured to each other as they grabbed their shit and left the house, their noses in the air. Max climbed out of the pool and Lola once again zeroed in on the water that disappeared underneath his swim trunks. Damn them both for looking so fine. It was hard to get any work done when they were around. What she needed to do was to get laid this week, like good and hard. That would surely help her get her mind off the two men that tempted her more than chocolate and strawberries. Hell, they were better than chocolate-covered chocolate dipped in chocolate. Yes, she would go out and get laid. She could always call up Jake, an old ex-boyfriend. They’d broken up on pretty good terms, and had even screwed a few times after that before she’d met her last boyfriend, that douche bag.
“So, Lola, my offer still stands.” Max took the towel his brother gave him and started drying off his short hair. The strands stood up in all directions, which only made him look that much more delicious. Both of them standing together, their hair a mess, their bodies half-nude made her picture them in bed, her body sandwiched between them as they did naughty, naughty things to her.
Chapter Three
“I’m sorry … offer?” Lola had to clear her mind and focus on what Max had said.
Max grinned and said, “Yes, my offer for you to come in for a swim. It’s getting kind of hot out and you have been working pretty hard.”
“Why not take a little break and enjoy the water?” Ian smiled wickedly. “We promise to be good.”
“He promises, but I can’t make any guarantees.” Max tossed his towel aside and the two of them stared at her, waiting for her answer.
“I’m kind of on the clock.”
“It’s not like your bosses will care.” Ian grinned again. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Damn him and his husky-voiced endearments.
“What my brother is trying to say is that we would like your company in the pool. It’ll be fun.” The corner of Max’s mouth curved up and made him appear devilish.
“I, uh--”
What in the hell was she supposed to say? Her two bosses, the men she had been thinking wicked things about, wanted her to get in a pool with them? “I don’t have a suit.” Was she actually contemplating doing this? She could say no, as it wasn’t like they could fire her if she refused. Why was she even thinking about not
getting in there with them?
“There are some extra suits in the pool house.”
Ian’s words were like a splash of cold water to her raging libido. Ah, yes, the pool house she had just cleaned. Lola remembered all the bras, panties, and even condoms that hadn’t quite made it in the trashcan. These men were playboys in the wealthy, high-class community. Why on earth would they want to spend any kind of time with the help?
Did they think her some kind of conquest? Liked the idea of sleeping with the help, because their supply of rich pussy had run dry? It was a pretty farfetched thought, even for her, but why else would they want anything to do with her? She was a Plain Jane compared to the women they went after.
“I think I’ll pass.” It was too dangerous and far too tempting. She didn’t want to end up doing something that would screw up this job. She may only work on the weekends, but the McKnight brothers were generous with their pay, which resulted in her not having to work during the week. If she fucked that up because she couldn’t keep her legs closed, because she let them have their way with her like all those other women, then she would be no better than the females she bitched about every Saturday and Sunday morning.
“Come on, Lola. What’s the worst that could happen?” Max’s words held a lascivious tone and she felt herself grow wet from her desire to be under both of them.
“It’s just a little swim.” Ian winked and tilted his head toward the pool house. “It’s not like you have to spend all day in there with us. Although--"
Max cleared his throat and Ian continued. "Just go change, and we’ll order some lunch and enjoy this gorgeous day.”
Ian made it sound so tempting, but she didn’t forget that they had just screwed two women last night and probably would be doing that again tonight. All she could picture was the three of them rolling around in the sheets, their sweaty, naked bodies moving together, touching, caressing…
