Four under the Mistletoe: A MFMM Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 2)

by Tia Siren

  “You hit me last night. My face is sore. I don't want to make love to you. I'm getting up.”

  Sated by his aggression toward her the previous evening, he rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. “Okay. Tonight then,” he said.

  Jessie almost fainted when she saw her face in the mirror. The morning sun was flooding through the bathroom window, highlighting every bruise and mark he'd made.

  How the hell am I going to hide this? she asked herself. After she'd showered, she took her makeup bag and tried her best to cover up the damage. She was reasonably satisfied with the result.

  The casino hadn't opened when Jessie arrived at eleven. It opened at one, but Jessie usually had a couple of hours’ preparation work to do beforehand. She used the electronic keypad to enter via the employees entrance and went to the locker room. She took off her coat and hung it in her locker.

  “Jessie,” Milan said when she was walking over the empty casino floor on her way to office the hostesses used.

  “Hi, sir,” she replied.

  “Milan, not sir,” he said. “Wow, what happened to you?” he asked. She was devastated to see that her efforts to cover up her injuries had been in vain. She'd been mistaken in thinking that she'd hidden them sufficiently well. It was obvious to anyone that something had happened to her. “It's okay,” he said when he saw a tear roll down her cheek. “Come with me. Tell me what happened.” He escorted her into his office and sat her down on the sofa.

  “He attacked me,” she said.

  “Who?”

  “My boyfriend. He pulled me to the ground and thumped me, two or three times. I can't remember. It hurt a lot.”

  “What an asshole. Why don't you finish with him?”

  She looked at Milan and tilted her head to one side. “It's not that simple. He won't take no for an answer. He's strong, and I'm afraid of what he'll do to me.”

  “Jessie, you're an employee in our casino. We look after our own here. We also happen to be Russian, and we don't take this kind of shit from anybody. Tell me where he lives and I will see to him for you.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but I don't want him hurt. I'm not like that. Perhaps there is another way. Would you pretend to be my new boyfriend for a while? Maybe he'll leave me alone when he sees who you are.”

  “Okay. I can do that. But he doesn't know me.”

  “Oh, he does. He's a regular here. In fact, he spends all his ill-gotten money here.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Dritan Polyakov.”

  Milan burst out laughing. She raised her eyebrows and looked at him quizzically. “I threw him out of here last night. We put him in the flower bed opposite.”

  “That explains the stains on his suit,” she said. In Milan's presence, she felt safe. He was a big man and as hard as nails—just the kind of guy she needed on her side to help her cleanse her life of Dritan.

  “I don't think you should be working today. Come with me. Let's go and relax a bit.”

  The Ferrari Milan was driving had just been delivered. “Nice motor,” Jessie said as they sped through the streets of Las Vegas.

  “It goes well. I've always loved Italian cars. They're so stylish,” he said as he glanced down at her equally stylish legs. He began to get thoughts he really didn't want to have given her vulnerable frame of mind. But she was so hot, he couldn't help it. What if she was really your girlfriend, not just a pretend? he asked himself.

  When they pulled up outside the Linden Health and Fitness Spa, he got out and opened her door. He scolded himself for looking at her legs when her skirt rode up slightly as she got out of the low-slung vehicle. He knew his grandmother, the woman he respected more than any other, would have clipped his ear for being so lurid. He remembered what she always used to say: “When in private you can look where she will allow you, but in public you should never look at any part of a woman's anatomy other than her face.”

  “Thanks. This is just what I needed,” Jessie said when they went inside the luxury spa.

  “I want you to take full advantage of the facilities. It's all on me. Relax and pamper yourself. Swim, sun yourself, get a massage, whatever. Meet me in the bar afterward.”

  Two hours later Jessie walked into the bar an altogether different person. Gone was the glum look she'd had in the morning, replaced by a glow.

  “Feeling better?” Milan asked.

  “Much. The masseur here has the best hands,” she said. “What have you been doing?”

  “I went for a swim and did some weights. Then I got lazy and read the newspaper here.”

  He ordered two large orange juices and took her to a table in the corner that overlooked the swimming pool.

  “What made you go out with him?” Milan asked, referring to Dritan.

  “He bowled me over. He didn't stop showering me with gifts. I saw how rich he was and how much he wanted me and gave in to him.”

  “Ah, rich always works, doesn't it?” he observed.

  She laughed. “Women like men with money. And why not? Life is hard enough without being poor.”

  “Sure. So I guess you eventually found out what an asshole he was?”

  She took a sip of her orange juice and looked at an old man as he dived into the pool. “The first time he hit me, I thought I deserved it. I was bitchy to him. But then it became more regular. I tried to break up with him, but he wouldn't listen.”

  “Well, he'll have to now, won't he?” Milan said confidently.

  “Yes. Thanks. Without your help, I don't know who I'd turn to.”

  “Don't you have any family?”

  “No. My parents are dead, and I'm an only child. I was brought up in LA and came to Las Vegas after college because I love the casino world.”

  “You and me both. It's amazing. It's not real. It's like a world parallel to the one most people live in. Look at all the characters that frequent casinos. You wouldn't find so many different types in any other establishment.”

  “Do you gamble?” she asked.

  “No. Don't gamble, don't drink. I was a boxer in college, so I had to be fit.”

  “Of course,” she said. “You don't mind helping me, do you?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “No. It's an honor to be able to help such a beautiful woman,” he said. “Sorry that was indiscreet,” he added.

  “No. I liked it. I like being called beautiful, especially by you.”

  “Sure you do. After all, you're my girlfriend aren't you?” he joked. “Seriously though, you should stay at my house, out of his way for a while. It's big enough.”

  *****

  When Milan's car pulled up outside his house, Jessie realized that it was indeed big enough. It was surrounded by a high wall, the gate guarded by security. Inside the wall, the driveway wound its way around a huge tree on a well-manicured piece of grass, stopping outside the front door. It was a stone house with six bedrooms, three bathrooms, a pool, a tennis court, and a kitchen the likes of which Jessie had never seen.

  “You were right. It's enormous,” she said when they stopped.

  “I'm only twenty-two, and I've already got a house most sixty-year-olds can’t afford. It's all down to my father. Most of his money comes from crime, but I want to take the family on the straight and narrow when he's gone. I don't sleep too well when I think about how my bed was bought with the money of some junkie college kid.”

  “That's very moral of you,” she said.

  He took her bag and opened the front door. “It's a big house for one person. It's nice you're here to keep me company,” he said. “The only other people who ever come here are the cook, Betty, and the cleaner, Flossie.”

  “An army of women to look after you. You're a lucky man.”

  “Wait until you've tasted Betty's beef.”

  A few days passed and Jessie began to settle into Milan's home. He noticed a few feminine touches around the place, flowers in the dining room and a bowl of potpourri in the downstairs toilet.

&
nbsp; Each day he'd drive them to the casino and wait until Jessie's work was finished before driving her home again. Not a moment passed when she wasn't close to him. The more time they spent together, the closer they became. Jessie began to appear in Milan's dreams, and he found himself spending hour after hour thinking about her. He felt extremely protective of her and relished his job as her bodyguard.

  Most of all, Jessie's more frequent use of the swimming pool played on Milan's mind. She'd appear from her bedroom, wrapped in a pink robe she would seductively discard at the edge of the pool. Then she'd proceed to do stretching exercises, which included touching her toes, invariably and quite innocently, with her back to the window Milan observed her from. The view of the thin material stretching over her behind and the sight of her gorgeous legs made him so hard he was hardly able to bear it. He knew he shouldn't be spying on her. Voyeurism wasn't a particularly charming attribute, he thought. But how was he supposed to stop himself? He was addicted to watching her, but he knew it had to stop.

  One evening she arrived home from work and began her usual routine. He watched her from the normal place, and as she stretched he waited until he was fully hard before he opened the patio door and walked with purpose toward her. The sound of his footsteps on the tiles surrounding the pool drew her attention, and she turned to him. The purpose with which he was walking toward her led her to conclude he only wanted one thing. When she saw his erection pushing inside his pants, her thoughts were confirmed.

  “Why has it taken you so long?” she asked as he pulled her to him.

  “Shut up,” he said.

  When their lips locked, a fire began to burn in each of them. It was soon apparent that neither of them wanted to bother with the niceties of the sexual act. There was to be no gentle foreplay, no petting, stroking, or caressing, just raw sex.

  Jessie gasped as his strong arms ripped her bikini bottoms off her and tore open her top. His lips clasped onto her nipple and sucked hard. She held his head and pulled him tighter. Her hands slid his zipper down and searched out his penis. He was her protector, the man she wanted and needed, and she was going to make him take her with all he had.

  She led him seductively, his penis still hanging out of his pants, to the diving board. She lay down on top of it and opened her legs in an indolent gesture that left him with no doubt that she wanted it, and wanted it now. Standing in front of her, he took off his shirt and discarded his pants and shorts. When she looked at him, she felt a wet wave engulf her center. His upper body looked so strong. There was not a gram of fat, just muscle and beautifully bronzed skin. It looked so smooth; she couldn't wait to run her hands over it.

  “Fuck,” she gasped when he pulled her toward him and threw her legs over his shoulders. When he thrust into her, she cried out and dug her nails into his arms. He didn't stop to look at her or kiss her, he stood and thrust into her raised body until she began to pant. With each thrust, he hit that spot inside her, the place no other man had ever found.

  “Harder,” she groaned. He did his best to accommodate her wishes, but he was already taking her as hard as he could. “Harder,” she moaned again. Then he saw her whole body tighten and her eyes roll as her pleasure swept over her.

  Far from relaxing, she wanted more of the same. Insatiable for him, she put her hands on his hips and rocked him in and out of her. She came again, this time bellowing his name across the yard. He was young, fit, and very strong, and she wanted him to prove it to her.

  When he flipped her on her belly, she gasped. Her legs dangled on either side of the board as he thrust into her. She reached behind herself and grasped his thigh. She loved the feel of the soft hairs that tickled her palm. She loved being filled by him. He wasn't stopping now. She could feel he wanted the finish line. She came once more as his penis raked over her G-spot time and again.

  “Fuck,” he said as he got closer.

  “Come on, give it to me,” she squealed.

  When he came, she felt it inside her. Out of breath, they clung to each other. Jessie had an overwhelming feeling of triumph, and Milan felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

  “You're mine now, Jessie. No more fucking about pretending to be your boyfriend. From now on, I am your real boyfriend.”

  She felt him growing softer inside her and reached up to kiss him. It was their first tender moment, the passion spent.

  ****

  The next morning they woke in the same bed for the first time. Milan stretched and looked at Jessie. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

  “Very, but I'm a bit sore, you know, down there.”

  Milan laughed. “Well you were the one who insisted on me doing you twice more. It's your own fault.”

  “Don't you have any sympathy for me?” she asked in a playful way.

  “Of course. Come here.” He pulled her to him, and they cuddled for a few minutes.

  “Gotta get going,” Milan said eventually.

  His Ferrari roared to life, and he drove down the drive to the man on security. The man nodded and opened the gate. When they'd gone just a few yards up the road, a boy of around eleven flagged them down. He was small and wore a pair of blue jeans with a yellow Batman T-shirt. He looked slightly apologetic for having to stop them.

  “What's up?” Milan said. The boy didn't say anything. He just handed him an envelope. “What is it?” Milan asked. The boy shrugged his shoulders. “Why are you giving it to me?”

  “A man gave it to me. I live down there on the corner. He gave me fifty bucks and told me to give it to the man in the red Ferrari.”

  Milan opened the envelope and pulled out a white sheet of paper. It read, “I know where you are, bitch. I'm coming to get you.”

  “What did he look like?” Milan asked the boy.

  “Shaven head. Funny eyes.”

  “Dritan,” Jessie said.

  “Okay, kid, thanks. If you see him again come and tell me. I'll give you a thousand bucks.” The boy’s eyes lit up at the prospect, and he began the walk back to his house.

  Milan looked at Jessie. “I think you should go away. He clearly knows you're here. I'll make arrangements for you to go abroad for a few weeks until we've settled the issue.”

  “No. I don't want to leave you. I feel much safer here, by your side.”

  “He's an Albanian. They are crazy. People call us Russians crazy, but we fight fair. Those guys don't.” It was going to be much easier to root him out and deal with him if he didn't have to continually look out for Jessie. The best thing for her to do was to disappear to another country for a while.

  “I don't care. I'd rather die than leave you,” she said.

  “Why are women so darn stubborn?” he said as he sped off again. “You'd be far safer abroad. I could concentrate on sorting him out. But if you insist on hanging around here, then don't leave my side. Okay?”

  “I don't want to leave your side.”

  Weeks went past and nothing more happened. They waved to the kid who had given them the note from Dritan whenever they saw him. They found out he was the son of the local doctor. He was twelve and loved astronomy.

  Milan settled into his role as head of the casino business and made sure Jessie traveled with him wherever he went.

  “What's with you and this Jessie girl?” Limonov asked. “Are you gonna marry her or not?”

  “Maybe. I love her, so I suppose I should.”

  “Well, get on with it. Your mother wants to know why it's taking so long.”

  Milan laughed. “Women, eh, Pops?”

  “They love a good wedding. She's a nice girl. Get a ring on her finger. You shouldn't let a good woman like her slip through your fingers.”

  Milan gave it a lot of thought and always came to the same conclusion. He wanted to marry her, but was it all a bit too fast. They'd only been dating three months. He thought for a moment about how she would react when he asked her to marry him. Would she even say yes? Maybe she'd been too damaged by the Albanian to want to marry anyone.


  “Are you finished yet? I want you when we get home,” Milan asked Jessie.

  “I'll only be a minute. Then you can take me home and fuck me senseless,” she whispered. Milan felt something in his pants move at the prospect. “I'll just go to the ladies’ room, and then I'll be right with you,” she said.

  “Hurry up then. You just turned me on so much that I don't think I can wait very long,” he said.

  The ladies’ restroom was down the corridor at the end of the building. Jessie made her way there, opened the door, and went into a stall. She locked the door, hitched her skirt up, and squatted over the toilet. Before she had time to doing anything, she felt something cold around her neck. She put her hands to her neck and tried to free herself of what felt like wire. But it got tighter, and she began to choke.

  Milan sat chatting to some staff members for ten minutes. She's a long time, he thought. He gave her another ten minutes and then began to worry.

  “Jan can you go to the ladies’ and see what Jessie is doing? She went ages ago.” Jan, one of the best croupiers in the casino, nodded and went to find Jessie.

  When he heard a scream, Milan ran down the corridor and thrust the door to the ladies’ room open. Jan was standing at the open cubicle door, looking at a pool of blood on the floor. The window at the rear of the stall had been smashed, and there was no sign of Jessie. He looked out the window and down both sides of the street but saw nothing at all.

  “Fuck,” Milan said. He alerted security and ran to the room that housed the video surveillance equipment. He wound the tape back and watched. Around the time Jessie had gone there, he saw a man standing outside the restroom window. He then saw him smash the window and reach inside. The tape rolled a little more, and Milan saw Jessie being dragged out through the window by whatever was around her neck.

  “How the hell did he mange to do that?” Limonov asked after Milan had explained what had happened.

  “I don't know.”

  “How did he know she was in the toilet?”

  “I haven't got a clue.”

  “Fucking Albanians. You know, when we came to the US, they were still in that cesspit they call a country. Now they're all over, like some kind of venereal rash,” Limonov said. “We're gonna have to take him out, aren't we?”