Backstage Billionaires: The Complete Serial (Menage Romance)

by Marie Carnay

  “Something funny?” He reached out and pulled her hair off her face, holding it back to watch her take him deep.

  As she pulled back, she shrugged. “This. I’ve never done anything this crazy.”

  “Mmm. And we’re just getting started.” Brooks stepped up behind her—stark naked, cock sheathed, and ready for another round.

  Rachel blinked. Oh my god. She knew what a threesome meant—sex with two men. But somehow seeing him standing there, eager and waiting, it made it so much more real. Sexy. Powerful. Screw holding back. She was going to enjoy it. She shook her ass at him and he slinked closer, reaching out his hands to stroke her thighs.

  She closed her eyes and turned back to Alec, taking his cock in her mouth deeper than ever before. Sliding down in quick bursts again and again. Letting his velvet head bump the back of her throat, licking the underside of his shaft on the way up.

  As she slid back down, Brooks massaged her ass—swirling his hands in gentle strokes until she moaned. Her pussy throbbed, desire and need soaked her channel and spread down her thighs, and if he didn’t fuck her soon she’d die from anticipation.

  Alec groaned and leaned over and she opened her eyes to meet his heated stare. “Fuck, Rachel. You’ve got a mouth like a damn whirlpool.”

  Brooks slipped his hand between her legs and she groaned. “And a pussy like Niagara Falls.”

  She groaned even louder and pulled back. Alec’s dick bobbed in the air as she turned around. “Please, Brooks. Fuck me. I want you inside me.”

  He smiled and grabbed her by the hips, angling her body ’til she bent ninety degrees. “Then I’d hold on.” With a single thrust, he buried himself inside her—plunging into her depths and bottoming out, hips slapping ass and drawing out a moan.

  She turned back to Alec and took his cock in her hands, stroking the spit-soaked shaft as Brooks pulled back. She opened wide and as he thrust forward, Alec’s cock filled her mouth. His tip eased down her throat and she shuddered. Oh my god.

  With Brooks fucking her from behind and Alec filling her mouth, she was surrounded and consumed. Her pussy clenched in a rolling wave and she struggled to focus. To give Alec what he craved. Wrapping one hand around his shaft, she flattened her tongue and wrapped her lips around her teeth.

  Alec groaned and pulled her toward him by the hair. “Fuck, yes. Harder, Brooks. Fuck her harder.”

  Brooks obeyed, slamming into her and forcing her further down Alec’s shaft. Again and again he thrust, working into a punishing rhythm that had her moaning and shaking and gagging around Alec’s dick. But instead of freaking her out or turning her off, it made her needy. Desperate. Her clit throbbed, her muscles clenched, and as Brooks slid his hand around her thigh, she almost fell apart.

  His thick fingers forced their way between her folds and as he pumped again, he rubbed her clit. An orgasm ripped through her without warning—turning her pussy into a vice and her mouth into a vessel.

  Brooks grunted behind her and as she clenched, he came, emptying his seed into the condom and sagging over her. Only Alec remained.

  “Looks like I’m the last one. Lucky me.”

  Brooks pulled back and before she could cry out at the loss, he was turning her around. Foil ripped and in moments, Brooks was kneeling in front of her, guiding her trembling legs back into Alec’s waiting body. He slipped inside, the length of him hitting places Brooks couldn’t reach, and she struggled not to fall over.

  “Easy, babe. I’ve got you.”

  She nodded and looked into Brooks’s eyes, staring as Alec rammed into her from behind. Over and over. Harder and harder. Touching her hidden places, her deepest secrets. As another wave of desire washed over her, Brooks inched forward, reaching out to stroke her clit while he captured her mouth in a kiss.

  Their tongues lapped at each other as his fingers circled her little nub and Alec pumped from behind. One. Two. Three. That’s all it took. Alec grunted behind her—slamming against her ass a final time and Brooks flicked her clit. And she saw stars. Bright white, dazzling and overpowering. She slumped against Brooks’s chest and slipped into an exhausted fog.

  * * *

  Mmm. Where am I? Rachel rolled over and landed on chest. Naked man chest. What the…? She bolted upright and looked around. Oh my god. Brooks lay on one side of her—sprawled out in a giant X. And Alec laid on the other—one arm over his face, his naked body on full display. It all came back in a rush. Her. Them. Naked. Bent over. Cocks. Mouths. Pussy. Holy hell.

  It’d been the best sex of her life. With two men she barely knew. And now she was sitting in a billionaire’s bed in the Hollywood Hills and she didn’t even have on a bra.

  Rachel eased off the bed and crawled around in the dark. Where are my clothes? Oh, god. Memories of stripping on Alec’s couch in the living room hit her and she paused. I am not wandering around his house naked looking for my clothes. She grabbed Brooks’s cast off dress shirt and pulled it on. There. That’s better than nothing.

  With a deep breath, she stood and looked around. Minimal furniture, shut doors. No bathroom in sight. Damn it. All she wanted was a chance to freshen up, wipe off the smeared makeup and get back into bed before anyone noticed she was gone. There’s got to be a bathroom around here somewhere.

  She opened the first door. Closet. Damn. She opened the second. Hallway. Well, that’s a start. She wandered down the hall and opened the first door she saw. A wall of windows greeted her with an oversized desk plopped in the middle of the room. Definitely not a bathroom. She turned to shut the door when the pictures on the wall caught her eye.

  Wait. Those aren’t pictures. She stepped inside and flicked on the light. They were records. Some platinum. Some gold. Like those you’d see in some famous singer’s house. Or a record exec. A chill washed over her and she stepped into the room.

  She started in the corner, reading the albums. They were all big time stars. Major talent. All signed to Falcon Records. Wait…what? The label she’d just recorded a demo for…the label who’s representative saw her at the Vortex. Her heart thumped in her chest and she spun around. No. This can’t be happening. She stepped up to the desk and picked up the first piece of paper sitting on top.

  A Falcon Records contract. The following agreement is entered into between Falcon Records and Rachel Anne Madison for the sole purpose of producing and releasing a studio album…

  Oh my god. The pages fell out of her hand, landing on the desktop one by one. They’re billionaires. From an IPO. Not record label executives. This can’t be real.

  “Rachel? Are you alright?”

  She looked up and Brooks stood in the doorway, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

  She blinked back a rush of tears. “Who the hell are you? And why did you lie?”

  6

  The last page of the contract trembled between Rachel’s fingers and Brooks fought back the urge to yank it away. They’d shared one of the best nights of his life. Staring out at the lights of Los Angeles, talking and laughing for hours. Heating up Alec’s bedroom until dawn.

  She was the first woman who actually took the time to get to know the two of them. And she opened herself up, shared her own ideas and hopes and dreams. All the other women—the one-night stands, the quickies in a club, the dates gone wrong—they didn’t care. The thrill of two dicks was enough to turn one wild for a few hours but nothing more. Rachel, though? She cared. Wanted to know them. Seemed to…like them. As much as Brooks liked her.

  Fuck. He could still taste her on his tongue. Still feel her ample hips rock into his. Hear her moans echo through the room. But the way she stared at him—confusion and anger and hurt flashing in her brown eyes—it froze him to the spot. Damn Alec and his insistence on lying. They were going to lose her before they’d even gotten started.

  “I asked you a question, Brooks. Who the hell are you?”

  He ran his hand over his hair and sighed. “I wanted to tell you. From the start. But Alec…”

  “Don’t pass thi
s off on him.” Rachel snorted and shook her head. “I don’t need your excuses. I need the truth.”

  It was going so wrong, so fast. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and Brooks closed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what she must think of them. Clearing his throat, he braced for her reaction. “I know how this is all going to seem. How it’s going to sound. But it’s not like that. I—I like you, Rachel.” He opened his eyes and stepped into Alec’s office. “That has nothing to do with your music. Or the contract.”

  He glanced at the paper and wished he could take it all back. The demo, the contract, the poor decisions. Tell her he owned Falcon from the beginning. Explain he wanted more than just her body or her signature.

  “You’re stalling.”

  “No, I’m explaining. I want you to understand.” He held out his hands and stepped toward her, but she stepped back. Damn it.

  “Tell me why a draft contract between me and Falcon Records was sitting on Alec’s desk. Why Falcon Records awards are all over the walls. Tell me who you really are.”

  “Okay.” No way around it. No way out. Telling her this way sucked, but he couldn’t think of an alternative. He took a deep breath and met her wary gaze. “The contract was sitting on Alec’s desk because…we own Falcon Records. Alec and I. It’s our label.”

  The page slipped out of Rachel’s hand and fluttered to the floor. “What?”

  “He’s the CEO and I’m the President. We founded it together about a year ago.”

  “You own Falcon Records?” Her lower lip quivered and she wrapped her free arms around herself. He wanted so much to take their place. “So all that talk about the IPO and living off a lucky investment? What was that? A lie?”

  “No! It was the truth. That’s how we made our money. Without the IPO, we’d never have been able to open Falcon. I was…a washed up singer. Head talent scout for another record company. Alec ran artists and repertoire. After we hit it big, we took a chance and opened Falcon. Everything I’ve said is true. I just—I left that part out.”

  She blew out her breath in a huff and turned away from him to look at the records lining the wall. “And here I thought you were just into me. You and Alec. God, I am so naïve.”

  “We are into you, Rachel. Didn’t you feel it? The connection last night? God, I’ve never…we’ve never…You’re different from all the others.” As soon as the words left his lips he winced. Damn mouth. “That didn’t come out right…Rachel, please.”

  She barked out a laugh, but it rang cold and hollow. “So is this some sort of sick game? You fuck me and then what? I have to sign with you otherwise I’m ruined?”

  “What? No! Rachel, it’s nothing like that.”

  “Did you say that to all the others?”

  “No.” Brooks stepped forward, holding out his hands again in supplication. “Rachel, we don’t do that. Not anymore. I haven’t come onto an artist since we opened Falcon. That’s not what our label is about.”

  “So I’m the lucky one, huh?”

  “God damn it.” Anger rose inside him and he tried to shove it away. He knew it wasn’t her fault. It was his. But he’d explained. Why couldn’t she see he was telling the truth? That he wanted her for more than a night? He swallowed and tried again. “I don’t know what else I can say, except I’m sorry. I don’t want you to walk away from me. From us.”

  “Maybe you should have thought about that before you lied.”

  “I didn’t—” He was losing her. A woman who fit him and Alec like a damn glove. Molding to their bodies, drawing out their inner desires. She was slipping away because of Alec. He clenched his fists and forced his voice to stay even. “Give us another chance.”

  “I’ve given you way too much already, Brooks.” She turned toward him at last and the look in her eyes said it all. Anger. Hurt. Pain. “I need to go.” She stepped toward the door, trying to ease past him and disappear.

  “Wait.” He reached out and grabbed her arm, holding tight as she struggled to pull it back. “If you want to walk out of here, tell me to fuck off, fine. But the contract is yours if you want it. You never have to talk to me or Alec again. You have talent—more talent than most people dream of. Don’t throw that away because of our mistake.”

  “I don’t need your charity.”

  “It’s not charity. It’s smart business sense.” She tugged her arm again and he loosened his grip. “At least think about the contract. If you don’t want us anymore, don’t turn your back on Falcon or your career.”

  Her features softened for a moment, but then it was gone. “Alright. I’ll think about it. I just—I need to go.”

  Brooks nodded in defeat. “Alright. At least let me drive you home.”

  “No. I’ll be okay. I—I just need to be by myself right now.”

  He hated the idea of her leaving without him. Calling a cab and riding home in the early morning light, upset and alone. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Goodbye, Brooks.”

  “Goodbye, Rachel.” Brooks turned away as she walked down the hall. He’d promised himself to never go down this road with Alec again. To never bring a woman into a bed to share. To never open himself up to wanting what he couldn’t have. And he’d stuck to it for a year. Launched Falcon, cleaned up their image. Stayed professional.

  But one night with Rachel and he’d broken down. Given in to the need and the hope she inspired with a glance of her eyes and a note from her lips. Unlike any other time—when he knew going in it was a one-night regret-filled stand—this was different. She was different. But instead of trusting his gut and her, he’d let Alec take charge. Just like always. And look how well it turned out.

  He slammed his fist on the desk and it shook the whole room—the records rattled on the walls, awards shook on the shelves. He shook his head and cursed himself. The whole fucking place should crash down around him. He deserved it.

  * * *

  Melanie flopped on the couch. “Wow, hon. You sure know how to pick them, don’t you?”

  Rachel groaned. “If I remember right, it was you who saw them first.”

  “Oooh. I think you’re right. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. I’m a big girl. I make my own decisions.”

  “Yeah, but I kind of shoved you in their direction, didn’t I?”

  Rachel shrugged. “Maybe. God, Melanie, what do I do now?”

  Her best friend looked up at the ceiling and let out a breath. “What do you want to do?”

  “Crawl under a rock and die?”

  “Hmm. Not an option. What else?”

  “Get short-term amnesia?”

  “Can’t help you there, either.”

  “Then I don’t know. I mean…is it crazy I’m even thinking about them still?”

  Melanie cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

  Rachel stood up and walked over to the sliding glass door. She peered out at the iron balcony bars and shrugged. “I can’t stop thinking about last night. How it felt to be wrapped up in their arms. It was…awesome.” She wanted to tell her best friend it wasn’t just awesome—that it was the best sex she’d ever had. The way they catered to her wants and needs. The way they knew what turned her on and turned her wild without a single question. She’d never been with a man who could read her so well. Two? It was unbelievable. “But that’s crazy, right?”

  “No, it’s not. But…”

  “But what?” Rachel turned around and waited. Her best friend looked at her with that I-don’t-want-to-burst-your-bubble look and Rachel groaned. “What? Do you know something about them?”

  “I might have done some research, that’s all. Once you said who they were…I couldn’t help it. And Rach, you should know their reputation. It’s not good.”

  Rachel trudged back to the couch and sat down. “Tell me.”

  “Why don’t I show you.” Melanie swiped open her phone, pulled up a web page and scooted closer.

  Oh. Ohhh. Rachel read the page and her stomach lurched.
That throwaway comment from Brooks was dead on. There were others. Lots and lots of them. Groupies who got drunk and had a fling in the back room of a bar. Hot new clubs where they came onto anything and everything in a skirt. Rumors of private parties with tons of girls and liquor. It went on and on. They were notorious.

  “Oooh! I remember her!” Melanie clicked on an article and scanned it quickly. “She made a big splash at some benefit concert here. But then all these stories came out about her sex life. I think her label dropped her.”

  Rachel cringed. It’s exactly what could happen to her if the story of her sexcapades with two billionaires got out…Unless she signed with Falcon.

  Melanie navigated back to the search page. “You know, it looks like the last story’s from over a year ago. Before they opened Falcon.”

  “Really?”

  “Mmm-hmm. After that, it’s all talk about the label, their new artists, recent hires. Nothing dirty.”

  Rachel nodded. “Brooks said they quit the playboy stuff when they opened Falcon. He said they’d never come onto a singer they wanted to sign before.”

  “You believe him?”

  “I don’t know. At first I didn’t. But there isn’t anything online to prove otherwise. So…maybe. But they still should have told me the truth.” She crossed her arms and leaned back on the sofa. She couldn’t shake the feeling that all they’d ever be is two liars in well-cut suits. With great abs. Ugh.

  Melanie interrupted her spiraling thoughts with an elbow to the side.

  “Ow! What was that for?”

  “I think you’re being too harsh.”

  She raised an eyebrow and rubbed her ribs.

  “I mean it. What if they didn’t know how to tell you the truth? I mean…look at what everyone says about them. All these claims that they couldn’t run Falcon because they were too busy fucking all the talent. Would you want to tell a new artist that? And follow it up with an, oh-by-the-way, we want you?”

  She frowned and focused on the carpet. “No.”

  “Well, there you go.” Melanie got up and beelined it straight to the coffee pot. She poured two cups and came back, holding one out to Rachel. She took a sip as Melanie sat back down.