Naughty Vs. Nice: A Holiday MMF Bisexual Romance

by Victoria Cabot

  With a subtle ding, the elevator stops and the doors open. I step out into the hallway and take two steps toward the entrance to her apartment. Putting on my best grin, I take a deep breath and rap my knuckles against her door - knock, knock, knock.

  Nothing.

  I look at my watch - it’s early in the morning, so unless she has spent the night out, she’s still inside. Perhaps she’s still asleep? I knock on the door once more, tapping my foot on the floor as I wait.

  Somewhere inside, I hear someone moving, but the door remains closed.

  “It’s Liam, love,” I say loudly, leaning against the door as I wait for her to open it. Did I wake her up? Probably, and now she’s rushing to put makeup on or some shit like that. It baffles me how many women still worry that much about trivial stuff such as makeup - in my royal opinion, a beautiful woman will always be a beautiful woman (and Nadia Moore sure is a beautiful woman). An au naturel look is not a sin, ladies. “C’mon, love, don’t leave me waiting. I can’t wait to put my hands on --”

  The words die in my throat as the door swings open. There’s someone right in front of me, but it’s not Nadia. It’s the fucking devil himself - Gabriel. He’s naked from the waist up, no belt in his pants.

  “What are you doing here?” He asks curtly, his voice filled with hostility. His eyes go from me to the flowers I have in my arms, a deep frown wrinkling his forehead. “And what is that?”

  “I should be the one asking the fucking questions, mate. What the fuck are you doing here?” We lock eyes, the rage between us almost palpable. I wouldn’t be surprised if the air around us started to combust.

  “I can explain,” Nadia suddenly says, stepping out of a room wearing only a short nightgown. There’s a hesitancy in the way she speaks, a tinge of fear in her eyes - she wasn’t expecting me to show at her doorstep.

  “No need to explain anything to this asshole,” Gabriel says. “Neither me and Nadia have any business with you, Liam. And if you think flowers are going to win her over to your cause, you’re even more pathetic than I thought.” With that, he tries to slam the door in my face, but I put my feet forward and block it. With one hand on the door, I push it open and step inside. Gabriel tries to stop me but I sidestep him easily.

  “Actually, mate,” I start, already fuming, “me and Nadia have business matters to conduct. I’ll be attending her gala, whether you like it or not, you twat.”

  “What?” Gabriel turns on his heels, facing Nadia with an expression that’s half-anger, half-surprise. “I thought we had agreed on this. You told me you wouldn’t deal with Liam.”

  “What the fuck?” I turn to Nadia as well, still trying to grasp the meaning behind all this. “What’s this asshole saying? And why the fuck is he in your apartment?”

  “I spent the night here, Liam,” Gabriel says, intoning my name mockingly. I ball one fist, clutching the roses in my other hand harshly. “You always get what you want, but that won’t happen with Nadia.”

  “Well, Prince Twat,” I spit back at him. “You’re wrong on that. Late and wrong. As fucking usual.”

  Really, if the situation wasn’t so fucked up, I’d laugh at the expression on his face. It’s comical, really, how his eyes widen as he realizes what happened between me and Nadia. He turns to her, almost as if looking for an excuse to believe that I’m lying, but her silence seals his doom.

  I walk past him and, with my lips pursed, push the roses against Nadia’s chest.

  “Here. This was for you. But it doesn’t fucking matter, anyway. I guess you have other things to think about now,” I say, unable to hide how fucking pissed I am that Gabriel actually spent the night with her.

  After what happened between me and Nadia, I thought she wouldn’t go straight into Gabriel’s arms. That’s fucking karma, I guess. After years of not giving a fuck about crushing women’s hearts, I found someone that doesn’t give a fuck either. And it fucking sucks.

  “Liam, wait --”

  “Sorry, love. I don’t have the time to stay around here and chat with you two, lovebirds. I would just be a fucking nuisance.” I turn on my heels, ready to leave, but first something flashes through my mind. “Oh, and the gala… Since I’m such a fucking problem for you two, consider me out. New Parthenia will survive without your help.”

  “Liam,” Gabriel says, putting one hand in my shoulder. The moment I feel his hand on me, I have to grit my teeth and take a deep breath so that I don’t plunge my fist into his face. It’s fucking hard to control myself. “Don’t pin your nation’s problems on me. It’s your goddamn fault New Parthenia is in such a deplorable state.”

  “Oh, I’m fucking sorry if I didn’t hand over my citizens to faceless corporations. Unlike you, I’m not a fucking shill for big money,” I shoot back, fully knowing that things are quickly escalating - both me and him are getting out of control. We keep heading down this road, soon enough we’ll be trading blows.

  Luckily, Nadia steps between us. Rage is coursing through my veins but, somehow, just feeling her close to me is enough to calm me. I take a deep breath, my cock twitching as my eyes wander down her petite frame. I start to undress her mentally, imagining how amazing it would feel to peel her tight nightgown off… I almost act on it, not caring about Gabriel’s presence. Hell, Nadia drives me so fucking crazy I could just take her now, right in front of him. And, hell, she wants him too? Fuck it - we could both fuck her.

  Christ, what the fuck am I thinking? Am I going insane?

  “This whole thing was a mistake,” Gabriel says, his tone much calmer now. He sighs, almost resigned, and turns his gaze to Nadia. “I trusted you. I thought you were different. But you went behind my back and made a deal with… With this poser. Forget about the gala, I’m done with this. You two can do whatever the hell you want.”

  “You’re right about that, mate. I can do whatever the fuck I want. And what I want is to get away from the two of you. I don’t give a fuck about the gala - you can keep it all to yourselves.” Without allowing them to respond, I turn on my heels and head out the door. I stop in front of the elevator, repeatedly pressing the button. As soon as the doors open with that annoying ding, I step inside; I hear Gabriel storming out of the apartment, but I don’t hold the elevator. Fuck him, he can wait - besides, I don’t think it’d be such a good idea for us to be in such a closed space right now.

  I get out of Nadia’s apartment building with fury coursing through me. But why am I this fucking furious? Because of the gala? In a way, yes… But what irks me the most is the fact that she spent the night with Gabriel. Yes, I’m fucking jealous. I know she doesn’t owe me anything, but jumping into bed with that guy after being with me… Fuck, that hurts.

  I might have done this to countless women in the past, but it’s still fucking horrible to be on the receiving end. As I step out of the building, I close my eyes and take a deep breath; in a heartbeat, images of Nadia’s naked body flash through my mind, Gabriel’s eager hands all over her. My cock becomes as hard as a rock, tenting my jeans as my mind succumbs to an avalanche of lewd thoughts.

  Fucking hell, I can’t believe I’m hard thinking of Nadia and Gabriel going at it. I open my eyes and shake my head, trying to brush off all those thoughts. Hopping on my bike, I rev the engine up and, in an instant, my bike is roaring loud. I drive it into NY’s traffic, swerving from lane to lane as I dodge all cars. Nothing better than a hit of adrenaline to clear my head.

  Fuck, why is my heart feeling so fucking tight inside my chest? Nadia Moore, that’s the why.

  8

  Nadia

  The skies have already darkened over the city as I realize that I should probably start heading home. I live in Midtown East and right now I'm walking through Central Park.

  You hear a lot of people in New York who end up living in the Upper East Side, or Upper West Side, or maybe even Lower East Side. I live in Midtown - among the corporate glass towers. A lot of people don't like living there - on 53rd and Lexington. They say it's too
corporate, there's no grocery stores, it doesn't feel like a neighborhood.

  Those are all the reasons that I prefer it.

  Or at least I thought I did.

  As I walk through the foliage towards the Plaza Hotel on the other side of the Park, I see the trees draped in Christmas tree lights. There's another Santa Claus with his Salvation Army bell. The horse drawn carriages are lined up along Central Park South and couples in love are getting on them - having their pictures taken, opening a bottle of champagne, and being generally happy.

  A week ago, I would have walked by without a glance. I wouldn't even have paid any attention at all to them. They would have been extraneous considerations - unworthy of my time. I would have been too busy rehabilitating my image - dealing with world leaders and foreign dignitaries. I would have been too important to ever care about love again.

  But now, all I can do when I see a man give a woman his hand and help her onto the carriage is think about Gabriel and how his hands held me.

  All I can do when I see the Santa Clause outside of the Plaza is glance towards Begdorf's and think about how satisfied I felt with Liam.

  I’ve called Gabriel. No response to my messages.

  This is crazy. My life was on the right track before I met these two Princes. Now, it doesn't even matter if I'm not in the same room with them - I just can't think straight. I want them. I want to be with them. I want them inside of me.

  That's the problem, I realize to myself. I want them but it's not like I prefer one over the other. I want them both.

  I cross the street onto 5th Avenue and watch as a mother and daughter stand in line at a hot dog cart. Their bundled up - and with good reason with the darkening skies - and the daughter is grasping for the roasted chestnuts but the mother is giving her the hot dog. The poor girl wants both, but she can only choose one.

  And that's when I realize that that little poor girl has been me. All along.

  I wanted the bad boy but I also wanted to settle down. I wanted the crazy sex but I also wanted the morning after.

  I'd been looking for that. And each time I found it, I either approached it as the bad girl, or the sweet innocent. But these men that I had been chasing - I hadn't given them the full me.

  Something lands on my nose and I look up.

  It's started to snow. It's snowing on 5th Avenue.

  The city looks so beautiful when it snows.

  And I think back to my life. How beautiful it could have been had I been honest with the men I loved. I understand that now. That on a deeper and more primal level, neither Silas D'Avington nor the Anders Blaine were swayed by my charms because they knew I was holding back. They may not have been able to put it into words, but they knew somehow that at the end of the day, it was just about sex. And I was only going to the point of sex and no further because I needed naughty as well as nice in a man. I needed a strong and stable person as well as a bad boy.

  Those are diametrical opposites. They can't exist in one person. Someone can evolve into something else, sure - but they can't be both at the same time.

  But I needed both. That's why being with Gabriel made me want to be with Liam and vice versa.

  But the two of them hated each other. They threatened to go to war with each other in my condo.

  I begin to walk down the street, heading for my condo in the heart of corporate America. All of a sudden, it feels so lonely. It's ironic - because this is the most crowded city I've ever lived in.

  But I couldn't be any more alone if I tried.

  I'm walking down 5th Avenue faster now. I have something forming in my head. I just don't know what that is yet. But I can feel it forming.

  I'm not a mean girl. I can be strong, confident, and comfortably in my sexuality, but that doesn't make me a bitch. Have I been conniving in the past? Yes. Have I lied, and cheated? I have. But I was misguided. It sounds corny, doesn't it?

  Well it sounds even cheesier to me that I think I may have found the reason why.

  I never met the right men. I always thought I could be happy with one.

  But what I really need is two.

  Before you commence the eye-rolling, let me just tell you that I have a plan. It's going to make this all better, hopefully.

  It better, actually, otherwise we're all kind of fucked.

  ***

  By the time I get to my office and make some phone calls most of the staff has already left for the day. Good. For what I'm about to plan, the less people that know the better.

  Don't roll your eyes at me. It's not what you think. This isn't going to end up on some sex tape or anything. I'm smarter than that. I cover my bases.

  I'm staring out my office window ten minutes later when I hear the elevator chime and the doors open outside my office at the end of the hallway. Normally you can't hear it, but the fact that there is no one outside means I'm left alone to my thoughts. And the sounds of footsteps coming towards my office.

  "Well, here I am," a voice says as I turn around. It's Austin Bain, the former President of the United States. "Mind telling me what was so fucking urgent that brought me out here?"

  "Where's your Secret Service, Austin?" I ask.

  "Right where you asked him to wait on the phone, Nadia," Austin says with a sigh. "In the lobby of your office right next to the elevator."

  Good. Like I said, the fewer people that knew, the better.

  "So what the fuck is going on?" Austin asks.

  "I'd like to know the answer to that question as well, love," another voice says. I look past Austin and spot King Silas D'Avington of St. Penares.

  My heart skips a beat. I've slept with both men in the past. I had a week or two of raunchy, dirty, filthy sex with Silas back in the day when he was a hard partying bad boy prince and I was a hardy partying daughter of a noble lady. But it was just that. Sex. I think back to how he ended things with me when he found the love of his life. I was upset and I tried to retaliate against her by driving them apart.

  My cheeks color in embarrassment.

  Austin looks at me. I think he remembers the times when he was a Congressman and we slept together when I was his Chief of Staff. How I felt jealous when he fell in love with this stepsister and fired me when I obstructed the two of them. How I was the leak to the media that caused him to make his famous speech.

  Both men however came to answer my plea when I told them what it was for. That I was trying to help someone I believed I had fallen in love with. Well instead of saying some one, let’s say people I've fallen in love with.

  But they're still here, looking at me, waiting for me to tell them my request.

  There was one more phone call I made. But I don't know if he'll show up. I was nothing but horrible to him. I even tried to deport him when I was District Attorney.

  That's when I hear the elevator chime one more time.

  My heart races. I can't believe it.

  Prince Anders Blaine walks into my office. He sees me and then sees Austin and Silas standing there.

  "Your message said it was urgent," Anders says. "What's up?"

  "Yeah, love," Silas says. "Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?"

  I smile. They came.

  This is how much they believe in me. Maybe this whole rehabilitation thing can be more than just a sham.

  I sit down at my desk and gesture them to come forward.

  Don't worry, I know they're all married. Nothing like that is going to happen here.

  "What's going on gentlemen," I say leaning back and smiling. "is a proposal I think you'll find very interesting."

  "Oh yeah?" Anders says and sits down. He's still got that cocky demeanor that reminded me so much of Silas and Austin that made me want to punish him. I was wrong them. I realize it now. "What sort of proposition?"

  I smile. "How would you like to help me start a war?"

  9

  Liam

  It's been two weeks since the fucking disaster in Nadia's apartment. Two weeks that I'v
e spent trying to forget about what I saw. And what I felt.

  That fucking son of a motherfucking bitch Gabriel fucking a woman as fucking glorious as Nadia Moore still haunts me at night. And I'm seriously at my fucking wits end trying to think of things I can do to get my mind off this situation.

  I mean, give me a break, mate. I came to New York for the UN General Assembly that's going on during the last part of the year - I didn't come to this city to mope over a bird.

  And don't you fucking dare look at me like that. I know we've only been together that one time, in a fucking department store dressing room. But the fact that she didn't bat an eye when I took her into the fitting room, or that she seemed to be more in control of the situation even as I was the one taking the lead, or even the fact that she was could stand up to me and face me as an equal...well, it’s doing the absolute opposite to me when I try to forget her.

  The fact of the matter is that I've been fighting Gabriel my whole fucking life. His country is nothing more than a bastion of wankers in suits. It just so happens that I need a few of those suits to invest in our country - we need to prop up our roads and our fucking schools, and we need that foreign multinational corporate cash to do it. But it doesn't mean I have to fucking like it. But Parthenia? That kingdom has been swimming in corporate cash for decades. So much so that they've become fucking plastic and fake. Gabriel is just a weak man. He’s always had a prosperous kingdom to deal with. Never had to watch his father determine the best allocation of limited resources. Because his family always stayed in the pockets of the corporations. They opened up their borders to anyone with money to invest and said fuck you to their tradition and values. I was never fucking like that. That makes me a better fucking person. Let him wear his fucking silk ties and act like a fucking wanker with those pretty boy effeminate liberal tree-huggers of his. I'm a fucking man. All these years I was fine telling myself that. Let him be wealthy. I was more real.