Filthy and Rich: A Billionaire Menage Romance Box Set

by Opal Carew

  Turning back to Noah, she said, “Yes. I do. So would you please have dinner with us?”

  Noah’s jaw clenched. His gaze slid over her damp cheeks and he said, “I make you cry.”

  “No,” she quietly insisted. “Mine and Chloe’s shitty childhood and our uncertain future make me cry. You’re just a byproduct. You didn’t know about the day spa, Noah. I didn’t know about the hotel. I was too busy flitting about trying to collect all the pieces to my puzzle to have even attended the city council meetings where I would have heard about the McMillian oceanfront property being sold to you. And if I’d networked better with the local merchants, I would have heard the rumors. So . . . maybe we were both too wrapped up in our corporate plans and suddenly they collided. Clashed. Whatever.”

  “Look,” Seth said in a reasonable tone. “We have dinner for three. We have champagne. We have Christmas decorations. Let’s eat, drink, and be merry, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Somehow, I think that entire sentiment was sacrilegious,” Sylvia pointed out.

  Seth grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. He kissed her passionately, then said, “Are you interested in a night off from all the worry in your head and heart . . . or not?”

  “Definitely,” she assured him without hesitation.

  “Then take a seat.” He smacked her on the ass. “I’ll serve. I sent my housekeeper and chef home so we’ve got the place all to ourselves.”

  Seth reached for the remote control sitting on the ottoman and switched on soft classical music. He eyed Noah over his shoulder and reiterated, “I said, take a seat.”

  “Bossy as hell this evening,” Noah jested.

  Sylvia settled in while Noah popped the cork on another bottle of Taittinger and Seth served duck with berry sauce and field of greens with a light vinaigrette.

  The conversation turned lively as Seth and Noah shared tales from prep school days.

  Noah told her, “I’m originally from upstate New York, but my mother remarried when I was fifteen and we moved to San Francisco. The West Coast was a bit of a culture shock. This crazy bastard over here”—he gestured toward Seth with his Baccarat flute—“would surf with sharks in the frigid temps of Mavericks, off Half Moon Bay.”

  “Hey,” Seth contended, “I’ve skied triple black diamond runs around the world with vertical drops that would boggle your mind. What else would you expect from me?”

  “A lobotomy?” Noah causally suggested.

  Sylvia laughed.

  “Come on now,” Seth said, popping a forkful of duck in his mouth and savoring it a few seconds before continuing. “Thrill-seekers are born, not raised. It is a natural instinct.”

  “No, it’s pretty much a moronic instinct,” Noah quipped.

  “Well, to be fair,” Sylvia intervened, playing devil’s advocate, “there is that whole no guts, no glory theory. And of course the what the fuck where you thinking? theory when you heli-skied—in Austria was it?—with a fourteen-hundred-foot vertical drop and a seventy-five degree pitch.”

  Seth’s handsome face lit up. “You followed my career?”

  “Not exactly. I read that in Sports Illustrated at the dentist’s office because it was the only magazine left on the waiting room coffee table.”

  He glowered at her.

  Sylvia laughed again.

  Noah refreshed her cocktail and they clinked rims. She said to him, “Tell me something absolutely over-the-top that you’ve done.”

  “That’s easy,” Noah said with his roguish look. And a teasing tone that made her clit tingle and her nipples tighten. “It happens to include Seth.”

  She slid another glance Seth’s way. “This should be interesting.”

  “You might want to polish off that glass before you hear this.”

  “You know what he’s going to say?” she asked.

  “It was our most daring feat,” Noah offered. “It involved a lot of fifty-year-old scotch, Brianne Fontaine in a flirty little black skirt, and an elevator in one of my hotels.”

  Sylvia blanched. “The movie star?”

  “Yes,” Noah said. “The movie star.”

  “And it wasn’t just any elevator,” Seth added. “It was a glass one in the atrium so we had to be very . . . discreet.”

  Sylvia nearly spewed her drink. Her hand clamped over her mouth to hold it in.

  She stared at Noah, wide-eyed. Then Seth.

  Both men shrugged nonchalantly.

  Slowly pulling her hand away, she said, “Oh, my God. You are totally messing with me.”

  “No,” Noah said. “Not in the least. Completely her idea. And it was damn hot.”

  “Wait . . .” Sylvia needed her logical mind to catch up with her suddenly overactive one. “Are you saying the two of you . . . with Brianne Fontaine . . . at the same time?”

  “Granted, it was about two in the morning and it was an express ride up to the penthouse. Albeit a long one. Anyone could have seen us.” Noah’s brow quirked mischievously.

  Sylvia took another sip and sat back in her chair. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s sort of a knack,” Seth told her. Then stood and collected the plates.

  Noah went for another bottle of champagne.

  Curiosity clawed at Sylvia—when she knew it shouldn’t—and she chased after Seth.

  In the kitchen, he rinsed the dishes while she stacked them in the automatic washer.

  She said, “You really are just kidding, right?”

  “Why?” he pinned her with a look that was an odd and titillating mixture of concern and exhilaration. “Does it disgust you to think of it . . . or excite you?”

  “I—um—I—”

  “Either-or, Sylvia,” he challenged with his smoldering gaze. “Does the thought of me and Noah being with the same woman at the same time revolt you? Or does it make you wonder what it might be like to be that woman?”

  She stared at him. Yet again at a loss for words.

  “Sylvia.” He tossed aside the towel he’d used to dry his hands after washing them and slid his arms around her waist. “I am unbelievably turned on by you. From the first moment I saw you at the lodge, I wanted you. I made that perfectly clear and I didn’t hesitate to make my move. Our night together was very sexy. Did I want you to stay over? Yes. But that’s something you apparently struggle with. When Noah showed up in town, I had thoughts of the three of us getting together. But I didn’t say anything about it to you directly. Didn’t try to intentionally set anything up. Neither did he, because he’s skating on thin ice with you.”

  “And yet . . .” She continued to gaze up at Seth, myriad emotions and taunting sensations swirling in her belly. “Here we all are . . .”

  Chapter Seven

  Sylvia wasn’t exactly sure what here we all are meant.

  Aside from the fact that Seth and Noah enjoyed threesomes. And Sylvia was wildly into both men, regardless of her intimacy issues with Seth and her annoyance with Noah.

  She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t excited by both of them despite her emotional inhibitions . . . and Sylvia didn’t have any sexual inhibitions.

  But she wasn’t well versed in the mechanics and nuances of a ménage a trois.

  Nor was she at all sure that getting in deeper with either man was a sane and reasonable path to follow. She might want them, but she still had her hang-ups.

  Seth seemed to sense her intrigue—and her uncertainty. His lips brushed over hers and he murmured, “You don’t have to tax your brain over anything, sweetheart. Just relax and have some champagne. Change into your bikini and enjoy the Jacuzzi.”

  “What makes you so convinced I brought a bikini?”

  His emerald eyes glowed. “Because I’ve seen this body and it fully warrants it. Preferably of the string variety.”

  “Hmm. We’ll see.”

  He gave her a sizzling kiss. Then said, “Go change. Use my bathroom and help yourself to whatever you need. Don’t worry about towels. I’ve got some warming o
n the racks. I’ll finish up here.”

  Sylvia didn’t have much of an excuse for bowing out. She was hot for Seth. And for Noah. And she had, in fact, brought along a skimpy suit. So she pushed through the kitchen door, catching Noah filling the chiller with ice at the wet bar as she passed through the living room, snagged her tote, and then crossed to the hall that led to Seth’s master suite.

  Tiny pinpricks of anticipation made every one of her erogenous zones blaze. Though Sylvia hadn’t committed to anything other than a dip in the hot tub. Another glass of champagne. The company of two men who did more than stimulate her libido. They kept her on her toes and it occurred to her that that was something Sylvia needed.

  There was a huge amount of seeking a safety net or anchor that consumed Sylvia’s life. For both her and Chloe’s sake. She wasn’t the free-fall type. But Seth and Noah indisputably were. And contradicting everything she knew and clung to, she found something enticing and refreshing about their devil-may-care ways, their risk-taking mentalities.

  Not that Sylvia could afford to be a risk-taker. She didn’t have billions in the bank to back up her mistakes. Nor did she yet have the wherewithal for the emotional fuck-ups. Which was why she did her best to keep them to a minimum.

  But Seth and Noah were a different breed than what she was used to. She could sense it deep in her bones. They weren’t Bobby Tyson from Huntington Beach or Rad Carlton from Cabo San Lucas. Or the endless line of foster care “brothers” who’d tried to sneak peeks of her in the shower or corner her when no one was around.

  These men were on a level Sylvia had never encountered until now. And in a lot of respects, that made it okay in her mind that her attraction to them ran so deep. She didn’t expect her heart to catch up to her libido—Sylvia had never been in love and she didn’t have the desire to fall for anyone.

  But for the evening, she could do exactly as both men encouraged. Leave the heavy decision-making to percolate and take a night off from all that plagued her mind.

  She was feeling a bit perkier as she slipped into her triangle top with black cups and shirred turquoise trim. She tied the strands of the matching bottoms at her hips. She pulled her long hair back and knotted it loosely at the nape of her neck. She wore a slim, square-shaped bangle on her left wrist and tear-drop earrings. But she used her makeup remover to clean her face so nothing smudged.

  Then she left the bathroom. She tried to steel herself for both men in their trunks. Had a feeling she’d go into absolute sensory overload as soon as she laid eyes on them.

  But, no. That didn’t happen.

  Because when she strolled into the living room, they were nowhere in sight . . . And because what Sylvia’s gaze landed on sucked the air from her lungs and brought a new wave of tears to her eyes.

  The living room was only lit by the roaring fire. Directly diagonal to her, across the vast room, was an enormous glass-enclosed Jacuzzi suite that jutted out from the main walls of the condo toward the mountainside. It was filled with candles, the reflection of the flames flickering in the pristine panes, seductively lighting the inner sanctum.

  “Whoa,” she whispered as her hand pressed to her heart.

  From behind her, Seth quietly said, “Come on.” He pried her hand from her chest and guided her to those dozens and dozens of cream-colored candles. He opened one sliding glass door and they stepped inside.

  The lovely scent of vanilla and spice filled her nose. Sultry jazz music flowed softly from hidden speakers. There was a fireplace set at an angle to her left, the hearth blazing. To her right were glass shelves mounted in the corner from the floor to the ceiling, all dotted with votives.

  Pillars were placed in clusters along the edges of the huge redwood deck, which as Seth led her up the three steps of the platform, she realized was heated. Sterling silver and white rose petals were scattered along the way and felt heavenly under her bare feet. The large, square Jacuzzi already bubbled and a hint of steam rose from the water.

  Her gaze swept to the opposite end of the room. A double chaise lounge was nestled in each corner, with an accompanying glass-topped side table that held more candles.

  It was all extraordinary. So incredibly romantic. The most romantic thing she’d ever seen.

  At least . . . for the moment.

  Because Seth reached for a remote on one of the tables and hit a button. Suddenly, the entire forest beyond the condo, stretching up the mountainside, was aglow.

  “Oh, my God.” Her hand pressed to her mouth this time. Gold and silver lighting illuminated the tall trees covered in white. For as far as the eye could see. “Jesus, Seth.”

  “The grand finale . . .” He depressed another button and directly in front of Sylvia, the tallest and fullest of the trees lit up, complete with shimmery, colorful Christmas ornaments and a glittering star on top.

  More tears filled her eyes. “Seth . . . It’s gorgeous. All of it.”

  She had never seen anything so spectacular.

  Nor had anyone ever done something so thoughtful . . . just for her.

  “I can’t believe it,” she murmured as the drops crested the rims of her eyes and tumbled down her cheeks.

  “I’d hoped you’d like it,” Seth said simply.

  “I love it.” Her gaze caught his in the windows. “It’s stunning.”

  He leaned in close and whispered, “You’re stunning.”

  Then he took a few steps away. Let her absorb the entire landscape.

  A girlish giggle bubbled in her throat. Her very own winter wonderland. Compliments of Seth Lofton.

  Sylvia wasn’t quite sure what she’d done to deserve such a rare and beautiful treat. But she was eternally grateful for it.

  “Sylvia,” he said, his voice still low. “Look up.”

  She glanced toward the glass ceiling and her teeth caught her lip. A full, golden moon hung overhead and stars sparkled in a thinly veiled sky. Seth pushed one more button. The panels of the ceiling opened to forty-five degrees . . . and the fat snowflakes began to fall.

  “It’s snowing in your house, Seth,” she said in awe.

  “Pretty cool?”

  “Pretty fantastic.” Though most of the white flecks evaporated because of the heat from the Jacuzzi and the defrosters on the windows that eliminated the fog, several of the glistening snowflakes landed on Sylvia. “This is absolutely breathtaking.”

  A wave of emotion rolled through her. Tears continued to pool in her eyes. Seth gave her several more quiet moments to stare up at the sky and the falling snow. It was all so perfect.

  Seth Lofton was perfect.

  And when Noah joined them, having given them privacy—and the chance to enjoy what he and Seth had both perceptively gleaned would mean the world to her—she realized that Noah Donovan was perfect, too. In his own way.

  She couldn’t help but think of the offers he’d extended to her and Chloe.

  Not to placate either of them; he’d debated all of his options and had also spent much of his time really figuring out who Sylvia was. What her talents and skills were. And had even told her he’d be missing out on a stellar opportunity by not seeking her expertise.

  And she greatly appreciated that.

  Because he could have been an ass about the whole thing. He could have easily swept her under the rug.

  He hadn’t.

  Nor had he disregarded the fact that Chloe was a huge part of her heart and soul, and that Sylvia wanted a future for her friend as much as she wanted it for herself.

  Swiping at some of her tears, she said to Seth, “You are an extraordinary man.” She kissed him. Not holding back in the least. Nor did he.

  Sylvia was breathless and her nipples were impossibly hard when she eventually pulled away. She smiled softly, then moved around him and crossed the heated deck to where Noah was setting up the free-standing chiller.

  “Ready for a glass?” he offered.

  “I’m ready for a kiss.” She boldly stared up at him. “Because you’re extr
aordinary, too. And I honestly do not hate you. In fact, I’m growing fonder of you by the second.”

  “Finally,” he quipped. “Was it my quick wit or my keen ability to pop the cork on a champagne bottle without spilling a drop that won you over?”

  “Noah.” She scowled.

  “It was all these muscles.” He chuckled. “I know the truth.”

  He was incredibly ripped. Like Seth. Sylvia honestly couldn’t say who had the hotter body. And for her to be next to naked with both of them . . . That was when the sensory overload hit.

  She gripped Noah’s strong shoulders and said, “Kiss me. Now.”

  His gaze narrowed on her. “You’re sure?”

  “Don’t make me kick you, Noah.”

  Seth gave a half-snort from behind her. “Seems to be his forte. Pissing off women.”

  “Kiss m—”

  Noah’s mouth crashed over hers. Their lips parted and his tongue tangled with hers.

  Whereas Seth’s kisses were sensuous and engaging, tugging at her heartstrings, Noah’s was hot and erotic. Igniting her nerve endings.

  Noah’s arms around her were like a steel cage. Her body was pressed to his and she felt all those rigid muscles he’d mentioned and she’d admired.

  His tongue delved deep, turning their kiss into something downright electrifying. Excitement tore through her, and her pussy instantly pulsated with a dark craving for both men.

  She’d suspected Noah would be aggressive and his kisses would be real scorchers. But on the heels of Seth’s passionate lip-lock and with him watching, Sylvia easily got lost in the fiery moment.

  Until she was desperate for a full breath. She was lightheaded as she dragged her mouth away from Noah’s.

  And it had nothing to do with the champagne.

  Noah grinned in his cocky way, knowing exactly the effect he had on her. While she still reeled, he helped her into the hot tub. Sylvia settled in a jetted seat facing the mountain. Noah set out glasses of Taittinger and then he and Seth joined her, one on either side.

  Sylvia sipped while taking in the gorgeous scenery, including the two men.

  Noah and Seth chatted amiably about the ski resort and the impending opening of the mountain. It was officially slated for Christmas day, though they’d had a soft launch this week. Seth was clearly excited about the renovation of the resort. But there was something else in his emerald irises that caught her attention and held it. A peculiar glint that was contemplative . . . explorative?