The rest of the board members agreed, sharing warm smiles and sipping their water.
“Now then, is there anything else that needs my attention before my fiancé and I leave?”
The members looked at each other and shook their heads.
“I’m afraid not, boss,” Ms. Benning said.
“Then have a good night. I will see many of you tomorrow.”
I took Lindsey by the hand and we left the room.
“Wow, that was intense,” Lindsey whispered. “Your father is the one who made you marry to keep the company?”
“Yes. He knew I didn’t have much of a social life. And he wanted to make sure I had a family vibe going on somehow.”
Richard came running out the doors behind us. “Gordon! Wait!”
“What’s wrong?”
Richard caught his breath and smiled. “I just wanted to say congratulations to you two. And Lindsey?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for taking the time to listen to me,” he said, shaking her hand. “Gordon couldn’t have picked anyone better.”
“I should be thanking you. You gave me that kick I needed.”
I butted in. “Wait, am I missing something here?” What were they talking about?
Lindsey explained, “Richard found me at the club. He told me what happened and to go talk to Eliza to get confirmation of the truth. So, I did.”
“Thank you, Richard. You’ve been nothing but an excellent friend.”
“Aw, come on. You know I got your back.” The elevator bell rung, and the doors swept open. “Well, I’ll let you two love birds go. I have a wife to tend to myself.”
Richard walked off and we got into the elevator. Lindsey sat down on the cushions that bordered the wall for our descent back down.
“I can’t wait to tell Stacy and Willow. They’re gonna flip.”
Lindsey took out her phone, but groaned when she saw she had no service in the elevator. “Oh, come on, how come there’s no service.”
“I have a phone built into the elevator for casual use…” I pointed out.
“I’m good. I’ll wait. Because I need to get my thoughts for the wedding straight. And I’m already thinking of several places to hold it at.”
The elevator reached the bottom and we walked over to the Ferrari.
“Is it out of the country?” I asked.
“No way. Right here. Jet lag will make the after-party suck,” she chuckled.
I helped her with the door and Lindsey slipped inside elegantly. Red hair, red car. This car was practically destined for her.
The car looked good with her in it.
After getting all buckled in, I turned to Lindsey and held her hand that had the huge ass rock I bought for her.
“Wanna turn it on?”
“I thought you were already turned on,” she purred.
“Not me, the car.”
“Oh, come on, it was a joke. I know, I’m bad at them.”
I placed her hand on the button. “Go ahead. It won’t bite.”
She pressed it and held down onto it for the motor to growl to life.
“Wow, that sound. It’s music to my ears.”
“Yes, it is. So is your voice.”
“Get me to the bedroom, you haven’t heard anything yet.”
Chapter Eleven – Lindsey
“Hey, this isn’t my place?” I said, looking up at the huge house we were riding up to from the street. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was pretty damn close.
“Oh? I thought it was,” Gordon said, rubbing my thigh.
“It isn’t.”
“It is now.” It hit me. I was to be his wife. We would share everything now. And that small one-bedroom apartment was going to be a thing of the past. Now I was being whisked off to this…castle. Gordon parked, and I finally got the hang of getting out of this car without feeling and looking like an idiot.
“Wow. This is beautiful. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, you never took me to your home before.”
“You’re the one who wanted to be mysterious and keep this a fling when we first met,” Gordon reminded me with a sly grin.
He took out the keys for his home and unlocked the doors. Warm lights turned on and revealed a fantastic main floor. The chandelier was the icing on the cake.
“This is like a dream. Wow. Now I finally know what it’s like to be in Willow or Stacy’s shoes.”
I was almost afraid of taking another step. This place was fantastic. Every wall had a painting, and it was carved with decorations.
“Make yourself at home,” Gordon said, putting his jacket up on a rack by the door. It was funny to see that no matter how fancy his place was, he still had something simple like a coat rack by the door.
“I don’t even know about how to adjust to this.” I took a few steps forward and held myself. This was very surreal. I was soon to be Mrs. Glen. This house was going to be a new part of my life, and the lifestyle that went along with it.
“You will. Trust me,” Gordon promised, cupping my waist with his hand. The warmth of his touch and the assurance in his voice put me at ease and I rested my head on his chest. There was one way, and one way only to break in a new home.
“Show me to the bedroom, I’ll figure the rest of this house out later.”
I loosened Gordon’s tie. He wasted no time hiking me over his shoulder and marching up to the bedroom. I bounced up and down with each step he took and chuckled all the way upstairs. He made me feel lighter than I thought I was. But with his muscles, that wasn’t going to be hard to do.
Hell, he could probably lift up his car with one hand if he wanted to.
When we got upstairs, he took me down a hall. It was comfy, and done up nicely, but his bedroom? That was a different world. It was the most comfortable place I’d ever seen. The carpet was especially plush, and his scent dominated the air.
“Gonna get naked for me?” he asked, throwing me down onto his bed. God, it felt like a fucking cloud cut from the clouds of Heaven itself.
“Hell yeah. Unless you had other ideas?” I began to peel at my straps to get this dress off of me.
“No, no, go ahead,” he urged, undoing his slacks. His cock was already pressed against his boxers. That had to be painful. Deliciously painful. And it was all my fault. Heh, I liked that.
I threw my dress to the side and Gordon helped rip off my bra and thong.
“You’re so perfect. Skin smooth as silk, and your pussy, it has a death grip that can keep a man cumming.” He ran his hands up and down my sides, bringing them back up to my nipples. He grazed his fingers across them and their hardness was activated, pulling the tender skin around the areola. I arched my back for more.
“Then what’re you waiting for. This isn’t the time for foreplay,” I said, reaching the back of his neck.
“Wait, I want to taste you first,” Gordon said, going down my body and kissing all along the way.
He trailed his lips all the way down until he got to my tender hot core.
His tongue flicked over my pussy and a shiver rocked my spine. Gordon took his time eating me out, making me suffer and begging to cum.
“Ahh! Ah, Gordon, right there,” I begged, my breathing ragged and deep. I squirmed around his bed, grabbing at random parts of his sheets and wrapping my legs around his neck.
“You’re so sweet down here. Your taste can’t be matched,” he muffled against my pussy, sending me over the top.
“Damn it, Gordon, fuck me,” I demanded. His eyes flickered up to mine and he met my demands. “Fuck, I’m gonna—ahh!” The hardness of his cock pierced my pussy’s hot dripping flesh, tunneling its way down until it couldn’t go any further.
Gordon hissed as I gave him that wonderful pussy grip of death as he thrusted hard into me.
“Give me your baby, I want to have your baby,” I moaned as he fucked me hard and fast. My tits bounced up and down to the rhythm and I pinched my nipples to add to the pleasure. Gordon noticed
and helped me out with the other breast, pinching the other nipple as he drilled me.
“Good, I want my seed to grow inside of you,” he grunted.
Soon he filled me up with his juices and left me limp as a noodle, soaked in sweat on his bed.
He fell down next to me and chuckled dryly. “You’re going to be pregnant.”
“I bet so. Maybe even with triplets,” I breathed out, catching my breath.
***
The morning came, and I snuck off into the shower before Gordon got up. I kept thinking about where to host the wedding. Today we had to make things official, meaning I owed it to Stacy and Willow to let them know.
“Lindsey?” Gordon came into the bathroom naked and looking for me.
“Hey, I’m in this huge ass shower of yours.”
“Ah, let me join you.” Gordon yawned and slapped his feet as he walked over to me in his huge shower room. That was what I called it. A huge shower room. This thing had enough room to hold about ten people.
“Sure, jump in, husband.” I slid the black glass door to the side to let him in.
“Not gonna call me ‘rich guy’, anymore?” he asked, soaping up a loofah.
“I think hubs is much better.”
Epilogue
Lindsey
This was it.
I couldn’t fucking believe it.
I was a housewife now. An ex-stripper.
I stood at the entrance of Bar Seven, in my wedding dress, looking at my husband, surrounded by new and old friends. The whole place was done up in flowers and still had that bar vibe going for it. All the workers were invited, including my other fellow strippers that worked alongside me. Even Eliza came to see the wedding. Me and Gordon were going to go down as one of her most successful relationship stories.
Remember that traditional wedding music? Yeah, no. Not at this wedding.
I nodded my head and the music began. I danced down the aisle in my dress that was a cute asymmetrical cut. Long as hell in the back, but raised in the front. Even my fishnet stockings were showing.
“Wow, all the weddings, huh?” Stacy said to me as I approached.
“I know, right?”
Willow was our officiant, and she stood proudly on stage with her bible.
Willow cleared her throat.
“Gordon, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Gordon smiled, “Yes.”
“And Lindsey, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Hell yeah.”
Willow turned to Gordon. “Well, hurry up, you may kiss the bride!”
We kissed, and everyone cheered.
That was when I learned, love doesn’t need permission to come into your life. It will walk up into your shit whether you invite it in or not. In the end, you are going to thank your lucky stars that it did.
Thank you for reading.
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Two Billionaires for Christmas: An MFM Menage Romance
Copyright © 2017 by Sierra Sparks and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Published by Juliana Conners’ Sizzling Hot Reads
Chapter 1 – Mandy
What the hell was that noise?
Not the birds. But the banging that sounded like it was coming from the garage?
I think it was about 7:30 a.m. when I awoke to the sweet sound of the birds outside, and the awful clanging noise of whatever was going on inside our house. Technically it was my boyfriend Jared’s house—or, more technically, it was his rich grandma Sue Ellen’s house she let him live in rent-free—but I had been living with him for over a year.
There was a lovely pair of song birds that had nested near our bedroom window at the beginning of spring. They didn’t seem to just mindlessly chirp. There was a real song in their voices. It was a song that normally made me happy. But today, there was a knot in the pit of my stomach, just as there had been for the past few weeks, preventing any kind of happiness, even though it was my first day of my new job, and it was supposed to be a good day, a brand new start for me.
Looking over to the wall, I followed the design of birds I had painstakingly painted as part of the room’s decoration—my own attempt to make the house feel more like “mine” instead of just “Jared’s.” Had the song birds inspired my painting, or had the design summoned the birds? I couldn’t remember. There had been a time when decorating the house and making it my own had been a joy for me, but that time had long past. These days, I was beginning to ask myself how much longer I could live in its suffocating entrapment.
Taking a breath of the morning air that was billowing in the open window, and trying to shield my ears from the clanging, banging sound, I rolled over and reached out for Jared, but he was gone. Again.
Now the whole vibe of the morning turned even more to worry. Jared has been so out of it recently and always gone. He never told me what it was all about it. He always said it was work related, but I knew it wasn’t. I knew it was something bad. Maybe I didn’t want to see it. But that didn’t stop me from feeling it in my gut.
On this particular morning, I couldn’t just go running to him again, or waste time trying to figure out what was up with him. I had to get ready for my first day on the job. It had taken me weeks to get this position at Dunthrup Industries. With so many of my other friends struggling and out of work, it seemed like a miracle that I could land something so potentially lucrative. A decent salary, benefits after 90 days, vacation and potential bonuses— If only Jared were more supportive.
It was clear to me now that Jared had something to do with the banging sound. He was probably working on his old, beat up car in the garage, even at this ungodly early hour. Or maybe that was just what I told myself so I didn’t have to face an uglier truth.
In the shower, I pumped myself up mentally. “You can do this, you can do this, you can do this,” I told myself, to the same rhythm as the water running over my body.
I was in pretty decent shape, but I had really wanted to drop a little weight before starting this job. I liked my curves, but five pounds would go a long way toward keeping my belly from muffin-topping. Being 5’ 6” and always having struggled with my weight in the past, I knew if I just worked at it, I could tighten up. But Jared had me so stressed out and I had eaten so much ice cream in front of the TV.
I got out of the shower and looked at myself in the mirror. I squinted at myself, deciding I still looked pretty damn sexy, extra weight or not.
“You can do this,” I said. “You have what it takes. You can do this.”
By this point, I was no longer sure I was talking about my first day of work. I had a gnawing feeling I was talking about dealing with the glaring problem that was my relationship.
Our bathroom was an outdated pink and green. It was a horrific color combination conjured up by Sue Ellen’s 60’s or 70’s nostalgia. When I moved in with Jared, we undertook so much work to make it feel less like his grandmother’s and more like our own. We had to tear up carpeting, repaint walls and take down the ugly Safari wallpaper in the basement.
Back then, the house was a project for both Jared and me together. That’s what had made it special. But over time, our enthusiasm for house renovation projects had faded, along with the zeal of our relationship, and we had never made it so far as to update this bathroom.
I dried off, put on makeup and got dressed. I was starting to perk up. I felt I looked a little like Rebel Wilson, but with auburn hair and a prettier face. I sometimes wished I was her. She never seemed self-conscious at all. But with her a
s my spirit animal, I prepped my coffee mug.
“Yeah, you can do this,” I said, starting to convince myself. “A new job is going to change everything.”
Then, as I heard Jared clanging around in the garage again, it dawned on me that I really had to face this. I needed to confront him before my big day. Who knows? Maybe he’d have it together and see me off. Maybe he’d be the old Jared; full of life, hope and ambition.
The moment I walked in the garage, I instantly regretted my decision. Jared looked like a cornered rat. He was on the floor of the garage, scrubbing away at the cement, and the acrid smell of chemicals was in the air.
“Jared,” I said, trying to be in control. “What the hell is this?”
“Nothing, go back to bed.”
Jared had a gaunt Jesus body and face that I had initially been very attracted to, because it hadn’t been that skinny. But he had somehow gotten very thin. The muscle tone was gone from his face, as if he was wasting away. His hair, once his best feature, was stringy and greasy. He was wearing his old denim jacket from middle school. The thing was full of holes, but he kept insisting I mend it for him.
“Jared, I can’t go back to bed. I’m starting my new job today,” I said, incredulous.
“So, what? You think you’re better than me?”
“I’m starting the job for us! Working for us!”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re doing! What are you doing?!”
“Don’t worry about it. Just go back to bed.”
“I’m going to work! Are you even listening?!”
The smell of the chemicals was overwhelming. On a workbench, he had poured some translucent substance in one of my baking sheets. It had turned to crystal and was already cracking. That’s when I remembered something I saw on television. Breaking Bad.
“Oh, my God! Is that meth? Are you making meth?”
Two Bad Groomsmen_An MFM Menage Romance Page 68
