Torn Between Two Brothers [Billionaires: Too Hot to Handle 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jan Bowles

  “Yes, I know, Shane. It’s just that I’m more patient and measured than you are. I don’t need to make it so fucking obvious that I want to have sex with a woman.”

  “You can’t kid me, Reed. You want Jessica as much as I do. After all, we share the same genes.”

  “Not entirely. We may be twins, but we are not identical.”

  “Even so, you want to bury yourself between her silky thighs as much as I do.”

  Shane was right. Jessica was already having a profound effect on him and for the first time in his life Reed wasn’t absolutely sure that when push came to shove he wanted to share her with his brother. Did Shane feel the same way? Strangely for a twin, this time Reed wasn’t quite sure what his brother was thinking.

  Perhaps they had misread their new personal assistant? Perhaps to her way of thinking, she was simply starting a new career and having sex with her bosses was the last thing on her mind. Reed shook his head. No. He and Shane were never wrong when it came to knowing what a woman wanted. They’d been blessed with a sixth sense for as long as they could remember. He figured they had been born with it.

  Reed poured himself another drink. He worked hard and he played hard, and was proud of the success he and Shane had made of MAT. He put his arm around his brother’s shoulder.

  “Sometimes it’s difficult to take in all that we have achieved, Shane. A purpose-built, state-of-the-art facility in New Jersey employing more than 250 people, and bank accounts so big we know that whatever the future holds, we won’t end up on welfare.”

  “The old man was very big on self-reliance, Reed. He made sure we knew the value of a buck. Even the five thousand dollars to start MAT was a loan and not a gift.”

  “Yeah, I miss the old man. They broke the mold when they made him.”

  “Damn right they did. And who would have thought that those skinny nineteen-year-old kids with big ambitions would go on to form a company that would become second only to Microsoft.”

  Reed clinked his glass against Shane’s for a second time that evening. “Yeah makes you feel proud, doesn’t it?”

  Chapter Four

  Three days later

  Alone now, Jessica studied her new environment. A charming lady called Coral, who appeared to be in her late fifties or early sixties, had briefly shown her around the impressive accommodation before leaving. Coral was Reed and Shane’s live-in housekeeper, and had apparently been employed by the twin entrepreneurs for the last five years.

  Jessica had tentatively asked the immaculately groomed woman what the brothers were like to work for. Choosing her words carefully, Coral replied that Reed and Shane Masters were “lovely but demanding men.”

  Jessica hadn’t been too sure what to make of those four simple words. After all “lovely but demanding men” could mean just about anything. In the following days, weeks, and months she would find out for herself. She had been surprised to learn from Coral that there was also a three-year-old child living in the house. Although she had refrained from asking, Jessica presumed the child to be the daughter of either Reed or Shane.

  Her personal accommodation was opulent by the standards she was used to. It consisted of a large living area and an immaculate kitchen that contained just about every culinary must-have item. The beautifully tiled bathroom was a joy to behold, and came with a stand-alone Victorian bath and separate power shower. The sizeable bedroom looked as though it had just been redecorated, and a king-size bed took pride of place. Best of all were the ornately carved French doors that opened onto a railed balcony outside, giving fabulous views over the surrounding countryside—most of which belonged to the magnificent three-story building.

  Coral had explained that the house, which was appropriately named “Masters’ Retreat,” had sixteen double-bedrooms in total. Eleven of which came with a balcony. The gray-haired housekeeper went on to say that Reed and Shane did a lot of entertaining when not abroad on business with MAT.

  Entertaining? Was that a polite euphemism for something more decadent and debauched?

  As Coral spoke, Jessica had seen visions of scantily clad or even totally naked beauties, running giggling down the seemingly endless hallways with either Reed or Shane, or both of them, in hot pursuit. For some strange reason she’d felt jealous of her own overactive imagination and Jessica couldn’t deny, even to herself, that the thought of Reed and Shane sexually pursuing her turned her on. Anyway, why shouldn’t she have wanton daydreams about them? They were both achingly beautiful, almost excessively so, and she was a normal twenty-six-year-old woman—one with sexual needs and desires of her own.

  She pushed open the French doors, allowing the cooling breeze to softly filter through her hair. Bliss. Sheer unadulterated bliss. This was how life should be for every human being on God’s good earth.

  Her new life here was a million miles away from the ordinary one-room apartment she’d rented for the last three years and perhaps, just perhaps, she was starting to move on with her life. Although fully qualified for the job of personal assistant to these powerful men, Jessica still felt out of her depth when it came to mixing with such high flyers. Although she hid it well, much of the time she lacked confidence in herself. The interview with the charismatic twin brothers being a classic example. Just three days ago, she had attempted to psyche herself up, telling herself she was a worthy human being, one who was capable of achieving anything she put her mind to. Jessica had even thumbed through the pages of her favorite self-help book in an attempt to make her feel good about herself. However, Shane Masters in particular had caused her self-esteem to crumble, and she had wilted under the pressure.

  There you go again, Jessica, running yourself down by thinking negative thoughts about yourself instead of positive ones. Jesus Christ, woman, they gave you the job didn’t they? So you should feel on top of the world. Reed and Shane Masters are hardheaded businessmen. Do you really think they would employ anyone as their personal assistant out of pity?

  No, of course they wouldn’t. They took me on because I am the best woman for the job.

  You are a good person, Jessica. Don’t ever forget that or I’ll kick your fucking ass.

  She knew her lack of self-worth came from her troubled childhood. In many ways, her upbringing had made her think of herself as damaged goods.

  She hadn’t seen either of her parents for years.

  Dysfunctional parents…dysfunctional families…dysfunctional children. Jessica was familiar with all three of these negative labels. However hard she tried to leave her past behind, the emotional baggage that came with it insisted on following her around.

  The past is the past leave it there, Jessica.

  As a small girl of maybe three or four years old, she had been unaware that her parents were so dysfunctional, and as an only child she had no sounding board to tell her what was good, bad, or normal. It was only when she attended school for the first time that she started to understand that her parents were not like those of other children.

  Age five or six, she would often turn up for school in dirty clothes and with unwashed hair. It was only when the bruises she carried became more noticeable that the teachers finally started to put two and two together and decided to take action.

  Even today, some twenty years later, she still vividly remembered the police arriving at her home—a run-down apartment in just about the worst part of town. Two officers had sternly admonished her parents, who apologized profusely, saying that it would never happen again. It did. As soon as the cops left, both her parents beat her black and blue, for, in their words, causing them so much trouble.

  Jessica had felt guilty for weeks after and, needing to be loved, had tried to appease her parents for being such a bad girl. It didn’t work. Not once did they praise her or tell her they loved her. They would either ignore or beat her for no good reason. When she became chronically underweight because her parents were not feeding her properly, the visits from the cops became more frequent, along with the beatings she re
ceived after they left. Eventually, aged just ten years old, she was taken into care. At the time her mindset was so fucked-up she’d believed that none of this would have happened had she been a better daughter. She had been brutally indoctrinated by her sadistic alcoholic parents, and as a child whose only purpose in life was to make her parents love her, she knew no better.

  Feeling slightly tearful at the loss of her childhood, Jessica started unpacking the large suitcase she had used for the move. Why did her past still haunt her so much? Although now a full-grown woman, why did she still on some level blame herself for the sins of her parents? Were they remorseful about how badly they had treated her? There was no evidence to suggest that they had given their parenting skills, or complete lack of them, a second thought. Chronic alcoholics only thought of themselves.

  They didn’t even like each other. Her mother detested her father and vice a versa. Jessica doubted that her parents had ever truly loved one another, and the more she thought about it, the more she reasoned that her conception was no more than a pathetic drunken fumble between two wholly inadequate misfits. Was it really any wonder her self-esteem was so fragile?

  Jessica smiled slightly when she took her favorite blouse from the suitcase. If nothing else, she could console herself with the fact that she had great tits.

  Thinking back, she couldn’t recall her parents ever having a job. They’d lived on welfare. Most of the money coming into the rundown apartment being used to buy cheap liquor. As a kid, Jessica would often daydream about her mother being a warm caring person—a woman who loved her child and spent hours preparing delicious home-cooked food for her family.

  In reality, this comforting 1950s ideal couldn’t have been further from the truth, because there was rarely any food of nutritional value in the filthy cockroach-infested apartment. More often than not, her parents were angry. Angry with her and angry with the world. She’d hated returning home from school, because they would always be drunk, sometimes to the point of unconsciousness. Strangely, she liked it best this way, because it enabled her to slip into a world of fantasy. A world where people didn’t shout at her or beat on her. Her daydreams inhabited an idyllic place, a place where everyone was happy and people were kind to each other. It was her utopia.

  Suddenly from out of nowhere her sanguine introspection turned to rage—a rage that needed to be purged.

  “Bastards. You fucking worthless bastards. I was just a kid—a kid who wanted to be loved by her mom and dad. Is that too much to ask for? I could have forgiven you almost anything, if only you had shown me some kindness just once in my life. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you both. But I will not allow my memories of your brutality and unkindness to spoil the rest of my life.”

  As her rage slowly started to subside, Jessica vowed never to contact her parents again. “I’m done with you people. You have nothing to offer. It’s time I started living.”

  Boy…that felt good. Every so often her emotions needed their release, and it was like a cathartic experience when she pulled the stopper from the bottle and let all her frustrations out. “It’s you pair of fuck-ups who should be sorry. Not me.”

  The gentle breeze filtering through the French windows whispered across her face, almost as though it spoke to her. Your new life starts here and now, Jessica. The past is a foreign country and you don’t live there anymore.

  She closed her eyes, her hands idly caressing the large suitcase that lay on the bed. “Yes…oh yes. I can be happy. I deserve to be happy.”

  With the painful memories banished, at least for now, she relaxed and allowed her mind to absorb wonderful thoughts. From now on, she would make every effort to soak up life-enforcing memories. Memories she could look back at in years to come with tears of joy, rather than tears of sorrow.

  “Oh yes, this is better, so much better.” Her refusal to be drawn into despondency was working because a crystal clear image of both Reed and Shane pushed the last of the bad thoughts away. They were both smiling. Desperate to hold onto them, Jessica shoved the half-unpacked suitcase to one side and then lay on the bed. “Yes, oh yes. Please don’t go, boys.”

  Lying comfortably now, and feeling bonelessly relaxed, she unbuttoned the waistband of her slacks before sliding her fingers inside her panties. “Please don’t go. I need you both so much,” she whispered.

  In unison they replied, “We need you, too, Jessica. You’ll never know just how much we want and adore you.”

  “Yes, oh yes. I need you both to want me.”

  Her pussy was soaking wet and her blood-engorged clit felt wonderful as her index finger circled it.

  In her mind’s eye, her twin bosses were both naked and magnificent now, their huge, veined cocks standing to attention.

  “So beautiful. You are both so very beautiful.”

  Lost in the midst of sublime thoughts, their combined tongues and lips were everywhere—her back, her breasts, her nipples, her ass, even her clit. Oh dear god, their probing tongues are mercilessly torturing my sexual nub, bringing me closer and closer to letting go.

  “Please, please. Oh dear god above, please.”

  The movement of her fingers as they teased her clitoris mirrored Reed and Shane’s tongues, and her breathing became more wanton and exaggerated. Her oh-so-sensitive nipples filled with blood, and using her left hand, she roughly squeezed and pinched her right nipple as she relentlessly finger-fucked herself closer to climax.

  Shane, Reed, Shane, Reed. Oh dear god, I need you deep inside me right now.

  Agonizingly close to release now, Jessica knew she was being greedy by wanting them both. Instead, she decided to concentrate her sexual thoughts on just one of her achingly beautiful new bosses.

  But which one?

  During her interview it had been the enigmatic, dark-haired Reed who had given the final go-ahead as to whether she was hired or not. Should she choose him? Surely she owed him big time for changing her life?

  But then there was Shane. He came with a slightly harder edge to his personality. Shane Masters was a man with a more of a devil-may-care attitude. With her clit now almost at the point of combustion, she imagined fisting her hands into those gorgeous blond locks as he knelt in front of her. His all-knowing tongue bringing her ever closer to sexual release as it repeatedly lashed her tortured clit.

  Her mind was made up. For the purpose of sexual gratification she would use the thousands of mental images of Shane that lay locked in her imagination.

  “Shane, oh dear god, Shane. You are such a bastard, but how you excite me.”

  His huge cock twitched expectantly when in her fantasy he laid his powerful naked body over hers.

  “You excite me, too, honey. I wanted you from the moment I first saw you.”

  “Yes, Shane, oh yes.”

  As the tip of his mighty prick slowly invaded the entrance to her sopping wet pussy, Jessica started to come apart. The most delicious orgasm imaginable grew inexorably stronger, causing her body to arch, so much so that she repeatedly lifted her ass from the bed as her imaginary lover powered relentlessly inside her.

  She squeezed her tortured nipple so hard it hurt. Jessica longed for Shane’s lips to gift her the same indescribable feeling of well-being that flashed through her sensitized brain right now. Such was the euphoria Jessica experienced as she toyed with her sexual nub that however hard she tried to remain quiet, she just couldn’t.

  “Shane, oh dear God, Shane. What are you doing to me?” She almost screamed out his name as she vibrated and shuddered her way through the most wonderful, life-enforcing climax imaginable.

  “Shane, Shane, Shane.”

  “Did you want something, honey?”

  That voice. It was Shane’s all right, but it wasn’t part of her sexual fantasy, and when she opened her eyes, Jessica saw the object of her desire standing at the foot of her bed. Those piercing blue irises were full of mischief, and his face wore an “I know what you’re doing” grin.

  The embarrassment she h
ad suffered at the interview was nothing, absolutely nothing compared with the cringing humiliation she now experienced. This was one hell of a way to start her new career!

  “Oh God no.” The wonderful climax was gone, replaced by a harsh dose of reality. In pure panic she took her fingers from her soaking-wet pussy before hurriedly pulling up her slacks and securing the fastener. She knew her face was the color of beetroot, and that no amount of explanation was going to make Shane believe she was doing something wholly innocent—something completely unrelated to female masturbation.

  The more she flustered, and the more embarrassed she became, the larger the smile on Shane’s face grew.

  “I heard you calling my name, honey, and I believed you to be in trouble. The door to your apartment was unlocked. So after knocking a couple of times and getting nothing but ‘Shane…Shane…Shane,’ I came to see what the problem was.”

  The sexy arrogant bastard was toying with her again, just as he had at her interview, by mischievously mimicking her words when in the throes of orgasm.

  Jessica coughed self-consciously before making a feeble attempt to explain herself. An explanation that deep down she knew Shane would never buy in a thousand years. Desperate to compose herself she then sat on the edge of the bed and did her best to look nonchalant.

  “Okay, so I’m a little embarrassed, I’ll admit to that, but it’s not what you think, Shane.”

  He immediately roared with laughter, making her feel about three inches tall.

  “Not what I think, honey. It’s exactly what I think. Take my advice, Jessica. When you’re jilling off, try and do it a little more quietly in future. It’s not a good idea to shout out a guy’s name at the top of your voice, especially when you haven’t locked the door to your private apartment.”

  Becoming defensive she countered with, “I thought I had locked it. Maybe I had, but you have the master key and let yourself in.”