CHAPTER 21
Amelia
This evening is going smashingly well. It’s far better than all the dates I've had, combined. Except, I’m not sure I can call this a date. Can you actually date two men without calling on God’s damnation? I laugh as I reach the marble counter where I had left my small evening handbag. But to my defense, how is it possible to resist sexy Brandon and hunky Holden. I mean, what girl would?
Charlie is going to die when she hears about this. Heck, she doesn't even know I met up with them yet. The saga of Jason Belvedere and Bibi is turning out to be a royal train-wreck and she’s still posted in Athens. Without her advice and encouragement, I forged ahead. Me, Amelia Jade Cavendish, jumped in with both feet without overanalyzing a situation. I went with my gut—or is it my pussy? Regardless, I’m so glad I did. I should be ashamed for loving the attention and innuendos these two are showering me with, but I’m not. I'm really not sure I can explain it to myself, but right now I don't care. I'm having such a wonderful time, that's all that matters.
I rummage through my bag until I find my phone. I turn on my heel and walk as quickly as I possibly can, given how high these Louboutin are.
“This is me,” I announce proudly before handing Holden my iPhone.
He squints confused. "I don't get it, angel." I absolutely adore the nickname he has for me.
“I’m an industrial designer. After university, I didn't really quite know what to do with myself. Unlike my brothers, I never saw myself at the helm of one of my father's companies. A series of fortuitous events led to this." I point to the phone he’s still holding. "My company, Just in Case, produces iPhone cases. Well, I guess I should say that’s how I started. Now, we have cases for everything Apple—from laptops to iPads. We even have cool and stylish straps for the Apple Watch,” I explain.
“Wow. That’s so smart,” Brandon says.
“How did you come up with the idea?" Holden inquires.
"I absolutely dread sameness. Many years ago, I was in the market for a cool case. I couldn't find any. I even went to the high-end shops. Still nothing. Everything came in multiple shades of black. Sometimes you might be lucky and find a case with the Union Jack, but that's as far as creativity went back then. I love our flag and I'm as patriotic as the next Brit, but I just don't need to have it strapped to the back of my iPhone so that I can stare at it all the time."
"That's funny," Brandon laughs.
"With that in mind, I went to work. I came up with a few very girly and chic designs. At the time, I was having everything manufactured right outside of Dublin—an old contact from my university days. Since Charlie and I are both coffee junkies, I designed cases with very chic female characters and cool sayings about coffee. I received the finished product right before I was due to tagalong with her to New York—she was attending a public relations conference. Fast-forward to our second night there, Charlie and I were sitting in this upscale restaurant in Manhattan chitchatting until Charlie's phone interrupts us. Suddenly one of the women sitting at a table of eight right next to ours, started hyperventilating when Charlie picked up her phone to check her messages. The astonished woman came rushing to our table demanding we tell her where Charlie bought her case. My best friend immediately flipped into PR mode—of course she didn't reveal who I was. By the time Charlie was done pimping me out, the New Yorker was campaigning for me to start producing these commercially. In fact, the seven other women sitting at her table joined in. I was taken aback.”
"So, just like us, the idea for your empire sprouted in the Big Apple."
Holden’s comment elicits a series of laughs from me. "I’m quite proud of Just in Case, but I would never dare to compare it to what you’ve built. Don't forget, I Googled you,” I smile.
"Oh yeah, I totally forgot about your cyber-stalking ways," Brandon jokes.
We all laugh.
"You're selling yourself short, angel," Holden scolds.
"He's right," Brandon concludes, pointing at his best friend. "Please continue. I'm sorry I interrupted," he apologizes.
"Are you kidding me? Two billionaires are interested in hearing about my business? That’s pretty surreal."
"We might not have Googled you, but I think it’s safe to say that your family has quite the impressive fortune—far greater than ours," Holden says.
"Yeah, but it's been passed on from so many generations now. Not that I’m discounting anything my father and my brothers have achieved, but it's much easier to shine when you start at the top. You two are self-made. You built your venture from the ground up. In my world, that's very rare and very impressive.”
“Thank you for saying that, angel. We’re pretty proud of where we landed.”
"Yeah, the many hours of sacrifice were definitely worth it," Brandon adds.
"So, what happened after you came back from New York?" Holden veers the conversation back to my story.
"Honestly, I was a little awestruck by the reaction of those women. I really didn't do much with the idea for a while. I was still unconvinced it could fly. A month after that trip, I ran into Claire Liggett—an old classmate from my Switzerland boarding school. While we were having coffee and dessert, my phone rang. When I fished it out of my handbag to silence it, Claire gasped. She had the same reaction as those New Yorkers. She nearly lost her mind when I actually handed her my phone so she could check out my case."
"So they were a huge hit from the beginning," Holden says.
"To my astonishment, they were. I was just having fun at first, I never really considered it as a possible business idea. After that lunch with Claire, I spoke to my three brothers and my father—they’re the ones with the business and corporate law degrees. They connected me with a savvy consultant here in London who helped me with a business plan. I launched the company ten months after that dinner in Manhattan. Within six months, the company was striving."
“Wow. What an amazing story," Holden says, clapping his hands together.
“I doubt I would’ve had the courage to pursue this, but my mother’s death changed me. I’m far more audacious now,” I confess in a little pained voice.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Holden offers.
“I’m sorry you lost your mom.” It's Brandon's turn to offer his sympathies.
“Thank you for saying that. She passed away four months before my eighteenth birthday. Six years later, it still hurts." There's an awkward pause. "You know what you said a few minutes ago about this being our first time together?"
"Yeah," Holden says.
"Why don't we exchange sad stories another time?" I suggest.
Holden offers me a sympathetic smile. "Fair enough." I appreciate that he doesn't push further.
"Aren’t you going to ask the obvious question?” I change subjects.
"Which is?" Brandon furrows his eyebrows.
"Come on, don't pull my leg," I press.
"No seriously, angel, I don't get it." Holden has this blank expression on his face.
“Most people wonder why I bother working so hard considering my father's immense wealth. The silent suggestion is always for me to wait for a man whose fortune equals my father's. It's too bad I hate being predictable. Some people think I do this because I'm a bored little rich princess. I don’t. I'm really good at this and I bloody love it. I'd rather shoot myself in the head than sit back and wait for my Prince Charming to come riding on his big beautiful white horse and sweep me off my feet. That's so two centuries ago." I let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Fuck, I can't tell you how much I love your sense of humor," Brandon laughs.
"You have an unexpected way of putting things,” Holden says, “That said, I do understand where most people come from. You could sit on your laurels and live off of Daddy's money. It's your birthright."
“I left that life behind—along with all of Daddy’s credit cards. I refused to touch my trust fund. I wanted to stand on my own two feet or not at all,” I state firmly.
“Th
at’s commendable," Holden says.
"It says a lot about you. I guess you had some leverage since you’re the Prime Minister's daughter?" Brandon asks.
"Actually, no one knew who was behind the brand until two years ago. I kept that part hidden. It’s easy when your storefront is online."
“You’re full of surprises, Amelia Jade Cavendish,” Holden shakes his head.
"Look at you, flying on your own," Brandon grins.
"Knock on wood. Four years later, I’m still going strong. Social media marketing has been very good to us.”
"I'm surprised your father's security team allows you on social media."
"They don't, Brandon. That’s a big no-no. I had to find a way around that."
"I can't wait to hear that story," Holden says in anticipation.
"My assistant takes care of anything company related. My personal accounts are under an assumed name—Diana Prince. Think Wonder Woman,” I reveal.
Brandon and Holden roar. I mean they bloody lose it.
CHAPTER 22
Holden
“You’re such a breath of fresh air,” Brandon says between laughing fits.
"Who knew you were this funny?” I say.
"Are you laughing at my expense?" she asks with feigned indignation.
"Not at all, angel.”
“Well, it sounds like it.” She lifts her chin up defiantly.
Amelia is the kind of girl who was collecting dressage trophies and attending elitist private schools at an age when Brandon and I were peddling odd jobs that were paid under the table so that we could help our grandparents with grocery money. Honestly, I doubt we could come from more different worlds, yet, our little princess is sitting on our deck. I’ve been with women with far less money and privilege than Amelia who were so stuck-up that even after I’d fucked them up the ass with my huge cock, they still couldn't loosen up.
I love how Amelia doesn't deny her wealth, but she doesn't allow it to define her. I respect that. A lot.
“You’re the whole package—you have a wicked sense of humor, you’re smart, well-educated, sexy as hell and drop-dead gorgeous."
"Oh,” she pauses. "I don’t know how to respond to that," she says.
"You don’t have to. I just wanted to let you know how I feel about you," I confess.
"Holden took the words right out of my mouth." And just like that the conversation goes from being lighthearted to it being as serious as the hard on I've been sporting all night.
“We should finish up with our appetizers and move on to the mains,” Brandon suggests. Good idea. Amelia and I offer him an animated nod. All three of us dig in with earnest. I guess getting to know each other really opened up our appetites. Brandon and I wolf down our tarts and follow with the shrimp cocktails. Obviously, Amelia being the dainty creature that she is, savors each bite. When we’re done, Brandon gets up. "I'll be right back," he says. "More wine?"
“Yes, please.”
"You take care of that. I'll focus on the food."
"No problem." With that I'm up on my feet and topping up our glasses.
A few trips later, and my best friend has a tasty spread laid out on the table.
Amelia’s eyes light up as she takes in the selections. "I know you've already given me a rundown of the menu, but seeing it displayed makes my mouth water."
"Wait until you dig in," Brandon waggles his eyebrows.
For two guys who never entertain women, I think we've knocked it out of the park. Amelia seems to be genuinely enjoying herself. There’s a definite energy between the three of us. She seems very at ease with us and surprisingly I quite like having her here. I don't think we could’ve asked for much more.
As much as I try to focus on the food, the series of satisfied moans Amelia lets out with each bite goes straight to my cock. I’m completely mesmerized. There's nothing quite like a woman who enjoys her food.
Doing my best to get a grip, I take a gulp of my wine. “What about you? Do you cook, Amelia?" I ask between sips.
"My cooking skills are atrocious," she grimaces. We chuckle. “Without my chef who comes in twice a week to stock up my refrigerator, I'd have a subscription to every takeaway in the city."
"It’s the same for us," Brandon interjects. "Holden and I have huge appetites."
"That's normal, you two are very big boys." She has no idea. As they say, thoughts travel because in that moment she blushes furiously, averting her gaze. "Oh gosh, that came out the wrong way."
"I'm going to let that one slide, sweetie." Brandon is brave enough to tackle her uneasiness.
She takes a few deep breaths before continuing. "I'm fairly useless in the kitchen. Of course, like any self-respecting Brit, I can make a mean cup of tea. Other than that, there are only two things I master, pancakes—my French crêpes aren’t too bad—and I’m untouchable when it comes to creating a kickass charcuterie board that will tantalize your senses all at once."
"A what?" I ask.
"Never heard of it before," Brandon comments.
"It's easier for me to show you than to explain." She reaches for her phone, but I clasp my hand on top of hers. She stares at it for a few short seconds before lifting her gaze up to mine. I didn’t count on how perfect her small delicate hand would feel with my mine over it like this. Even without having to caress it, her skin feels like silk. I have no doubt the rest of her body feels as velvety. In that moment, I realize that this is the first time I’ve touched her. Brandon kissed her when she got here, but when I picked her up, there were two officers standing guard at her door—not the most inviting scenario.
I don't rush this. I take my sweet time, allowing this lustful moment to take over. My eyes drop to her lips when her breath hitches. Fuck. Even under the low light of these lanterns, I can tell that her pupils are dilated. It only serves to make me harder. "Why don't you come back tomorrow night and show us in person instead?"
My words come out deeper than I’d meant them to. I’m doing a poor job at suppressing the host of implausible thoughts that have crowded my mind since she stepped into this penthouse. Amelia is a woman you need to take your time with. As much as my cock mightily disagrees, my head is leveled enough to know better. "I'm sure Brandon feels the same way I do." I don't have to look at my best friend for an answer. His ragged breath is good enough.
"Hell yeah." Brandon's voice is so low, I barely recognize it.
"Tomorrow is Saturday," she offers as a response.
"I know. Is that a problem?" I ask. Trust me, if it is, I’ll turn the situation around before she’s even able to blink again.
“No. It's just that I'm a little surprised," she says.
"Why’s that?" I retort.
"According to Google,” she smiles. "You’re hard-core bad-boy bachelors." I'm not going to lie or deny that. “There are quite a few photos of you—both of you—at several events with very gorgeous women hanging from your arms."
"None more gorgeous than the one sitting across from me right now," I quip.
She takes in a shuddering breath. "Oh." I love the shape of her mouth when she does that. “Well, to continue my point." She forges ahead seemingly unbothered, but the way she bats her eyelashes tells me otherwise. "I would have assumed that the pair of you would each already have a hot date lined up for tomorrow night," she explains, her eyes locked onto mine.
"We do.” I pause deliberately. “She hasn't agreed to come back yet.” I close my hand a little tighter around hers, causing her eyes to dart down.
She swallows hard and looks back up. “Really?” She worries at her lower lip. She shifts a bit in her seat. I shift a bit too. Brandon does the same. It’s like this ripple effect that runs through each one of us. My fitted jeans were already uncomfortably snug. Now, I fear that my growing erection will cause the zipper to come undone.
"Really.” Another pause. "Allow me to speak on Brandon's behalf..." In the decades since I've known my best friend, I'd have to be crazy to pin him as the quiet typ
e. He hasn't spoken more than two words since I grabbed her hand. That says a lot. "Along with wanting to see you again, I'm dying to know what those damned charcuterie boards are all about."
That earns me a burst of laughter.
CHAPTER 23
Brandon
I didn't expect Holden to turn up the heat with his lascivious invitation. Although we’re outside and there's a comfortable breeze, it feels like a freaking inferno. I swear, sitting back and watching those two interact was so sexy, I had to will my cock to behave itself. Once she was able to compose herself, Amelia accepted enthusiastically. One more minute of that lustful exchange and I was going to lose my shit inside my custom-tailored pants.
Although Holden didn't come right out and say that Amelia was accepting to come back to our place for a date with two guys, everything implied it. The best part, she's not shying away from the obvious.
After that sizzling hot episode, we finish our dinner. During the rest of the meal, the conversation is light, casual and fun. You'd never be able to tell that three people just made a commitment to explore things further. As I leisurely sip on the rest of my wine, my eyes are riveted on her. I just can't look away. Holden doesn't fare much better. Everything about her turns me on. Don't even get me started on how everything sounds so much sexier with her British accent or the way her beautiful green eyes sparkle under these lights. I don't think I've ever felt this taken by a woman.
As my eyes glide across her shoulders, I notice that she shivers.
"Are you cold?" I ask, dropping my wine glass on the table and sitting up straighter in my chair.
"It's stupid of me to have left my home without a sweater. I'm always cold. Although today was a glorious day, it's still not summer yet. Not that I'm complaining, but I didn't expect we’d spend the evening on your deck," she explains.
"Why don't we go inside?" I say. "Especially if that means you'll be more comfortable."
Bad Boy SEALs Page 16