A Bride for Two Billionaires

by Lola Newmar

  “Your exes?” Brody gave the women a disgusted look. “We took you to a dance in the eighth grade, and the only thing exchanged that night was a couple of sloppy, awkward kisses at your front doors. That was well before you two began giving the boys tag-team blowjobs behind the bleachers in exchange for their mothers’ prescription pills.”

  Summer laughed. “Oh, please. You really think she’s better than us just because she wears pearls and donates Daddy’s money to a school for retards?”

  “Everything that woman has given to her community was the result of hard work and dedication,” Brody protested, “not from stealing or lying on her back.”

  “Ha! Don’t fool yourselves, boys,” Summer retorted. “Wearing pastels doesn’t mean she’s any less adventurous than we are. I saw the way she looked at you two. I know all about women like her.”

  “You know nothing about being a woman,” Jay snapped through a clenched jaw. Gasps were heard throughout the tables closest to them. Summer’s mouth dropped open in shock, then she narrowed her dark-encircled eyes right at him. Brody looked surprised, too, but it was probably because he never expected Jay to stand up to Summer and Candace in front of the entire town. He just nodded and gave Jay a wide, proud grin.

  “Ugh, Sandra Dee was even snobbier than I expected,” said Candace, not bothering to be discreet as she appeared to examine her nostrils for traces of cocaine with the compact she retrieved from her purse. “I swear, some people can be so tacky.”

  Jay struggled to keep his voice low when he stepped up to the women. “If you want to talk about tact, maybe the two of you should salvage what little dignity you have and find some other guys to nauseate. I understand it’s a little out of your comfort zone, but mind your own business, get a job, find a decent dress, and try to act like ladies. This is Male Order, for crying out loud. Have a little respect.”

  He felt Brody’s hand on his shoulder as they strolled out of the diner, leaving behind a laughing bartender.

  Chapter 4

  “Double Southern Comfort sour, please,” Taylor called out over Heart’s “Magic Man” playing on the jukebox. The blonde behind the bar returned shortly and handed Taylor her drink. By the time she walked back to the corner table where Veronica and her Luscious posse sat, she had already sucked down half of her cocktail.

  “Ooh wee! Look at that ass,” Veronica exclaimed, indicating the raven-haired stud bending over one of the pool tables while he took his turn in the game.

  “He’s okay,” Taylor said quietly, not bothering to get a real good look at him.

  “It’s Male Order, baby girl.” Greta swayed in her seat to the upbeat melody. “No such thing as a man that’s just ‘okay.’”

  “Now there’s a cowboy I’d love to saddle up and ride all night,” said Beverley as she blatantly gawked at the masculine denim-clad ass laid out before them. “And when I’m done with him, I’ll just bite that cute little head off. Argh!” Beverley jokingly took a big bite of the air as she growled, and Taylor almost spewed her liquor all over the table as she joined the gang in a loud bout of laughter.

  Taylor watched the four dancing women at the table and wondered how she had ever doubted a Friday night at the Boom Boom Room could ever be this fun. Since the humiliating encounter at Hester’s the day before, she had refused to leave Veronica’s house in fear of running into Jay and Brody. They had called four times since then, but she had nothing to say to them. Instead, she chose to send them a tray of homemade cookies and a fruit basket along with the thank you note she promised.

  She was beyond grateful for their donation to her HCM foundation. Her development chairman broke down in tears of joy when she called to break the great news. That money was going to make all the hopes and dreams Taylor had for her foundation come true.

  Yet there could never be anything between her and the two beautiful earth ghosts that haunted her thoughts. She had realized that at the diner. The old brats, Summer and Candy, had made sure of that. Although they had been cruel, they were right. Taylor could never be enough for Brody and Jay. These were men who built an empire based on their “so many women, so little time” worldview.

  A hot pink shot lit in a blue flame was placed before her. Taylor looked up to see Aurora’s kind baby blues. “It’s a Heartbreaker, my own little concoction of bubblegum vodka, raspberry liqueur, cranberry juice, a splash of pineapple, and a little 151 for the fire. It’s actually pretty disgusting, but it looks precious and gets the job done.” She raised her shot glass, and Taylor followed.

  “Here’s to the men that we love,” Aurora began, and Taylor grinned, immediately recognizing the words. All five women at the table continued in unison, “And here’s to the men who love us. But the men that we love never love us, so fuck all the men, and here’s to us!” They threw back their heads, drained the liquid, then slammed their empty shot glasses on the table before they all let out a loud woo-hoo.

  “Thank you all so much for dragging me out. I’m really glad I came.”

  “I just don’t get it, baby girl,” said Veronica. “You said for yourself Brody and Jay had been nothing but gentlemen to you. Why on earth would you turn that away?”

  “Auntie, it’s more complicated than that. Jay and Brody, they’re living every man’s fantasy right now. They have bottomless bank accounts, extraordinary beauty, and the entire female population hunting them down. What men would be willing to give that all up for just one woman?”

  “Mine,” replied Aurora.

  “And mine,” said Greta.

  “And mine!” They all looked over to the beautiful, full-figured woman surrounded by five smiling men at the next table. A dozen or so lavender Stephanie boxes and a half-eaten birthday cake sat in front of her. The men continued to take turns feeding the cake to busty blonde.

  Taylor sighed in defeat.

  “You’re punishing them for what Dillon did to you,” Veronica pointed out.

  “I’m protecting myself, Aunt Veronica.”

  “Oh, child, please!” exclaimed Beverley with a roll of her eyes. “What the hell are you protecting yourself from? Carpel tunnel from their unlimited credit cards? Carpet burn on your knees? An achy back after hours in their bed?”

  They all laughed, but Taylor saw their points. She was waving the white flag before she even stepped on the battlefield.

  * * * *

  “You may want to reconsider a Cuban, so exotic, so forbidden, so rich and sweet.” Jay teasingly waved the eight hundred dollar cigar in front of Brody’s face.

  They had stopped by the men’s club for a smoke and drink after their victorious polo match against the Caldwell brothers. Despite the win, the blank, lost look on Brody’s face remained as he stared off into the bar mirror on the back wall. “It’s helped me, and it’ll help you, too.” Jay moved the cigar closer.

  Brody snatched the cigar from Jay’s grip, broke it in half, and threw the remains behind the bar. “For the millionth time, you can’t lie to me,” he said softly before finishing his bourbon then motioned the bartender for another.

  Jay didn’t know what else to do but turn his barstool back to face the mirrored wall. He sure as hell couldn’t deny it. Over the last couple of days, Jay had forced himself to muster the strength to at least appear unscathed from that afternoon in the diner. He always had a talent for masking his true emotions, but Brody had always been able to see right through it.

  They had tried numerous times to reach Taylor, even sending her a half-dozen pairs of Jimmy Choos. Each shoebox also had a sealed, handwritten letter of apology in a different language attached to the outside. They’d figured, what woman—a pageant queen, at that—would be able to resist high-heels and poetry? Apparently, Taylor Ewing. She had kept all the letters, but she sent back the shoeboxes completely unopened. As caring and sweet as she was, she was just as stubborn.

  “It hurts, doesn’t it?” Brody asked. He turned toward Jay and looked him in the eye. “Say it, Jay. Tell me I’m not the only one.�
��

  Jay finished his whiskey in one swallow then rubbed his hand over his face as he braced himself for confession. “Yeah, buddy. It hurts. I see her face every time I close my eyes.”

  Jay allowed his lids to drift shut, and he could see her clear as day. He remembered how she seemed to glow when she talked about her charity work. The passion she had for helping others oozed through her very being. Her brown eyes sparkled, her beautiful smile lit up her face, and how could he ever forget the way her high, round breasts would rise and fall when she bounced excitedly as she talked about the foundation’s future plans.

  Jay opened his eyes, but Taylor’s sparkling brown eyes continued to stare back. He quickly realized he was staring at their reflection. Taylor made her way through the club and headed toward them. His heart leaped with hope and joy when she smiled.

  She was wearing a strapless floral-print dress and black cowboy boots. The crowd parted as she moved closer to the bar. From all the dropped jaws and silenced conversations, Jay would bet every man in the bar was imagining her in nothing but those boots. The image of Taylor lying beneath him played itself in his mind, her cowboy boots resting on his shoulders as he plunged his cock deep inside her pussy while she moaned around Brody’s cock.

  “She came back to us,” he heard Brody whisper beside him. They both turned in their bar stools and stood to face her. There weren’t many things that made Jay nervous, but right now, his guts felt like they had fallen to his feet. He felt like jumping up, singing, dancing, and pounding every guy in the bar for the way they looked at her. He fought to abstain from doing all four.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Her smile was warm and sincere, but Jay noticed her bottom lip was slightly trembling. She was nervous, a good sign. She wouldn’t be nervous if she didn’t care, just a little.

  “Good afternoon, Taylor. Ravishing as always.” Brody sounded as cool as a cucumber. Just seconds ago, Brody had been slumped over the bar like any other hopeless fool in love. Now he radiated his usual cool confidence. “You got a trim, I see. It’s lovely.”

  Taylor looked a little shocked at his observation. “Yes, Aurora thought it would be good for me.” Jay saw no difference¸ but charming the girls was always Brody’s role while Jay’s was always to persuade the girls to, well, do just about whatever he wanted.

  “Every man in this bar is practically on their knees in worship, but I have a feeling it has nothing to do with a two-inch trim.” Just as he’d expected, he watched her face turn pink, and she modestly lowered her eyes while her grin spread wider. He’d never guess such a knockout could ever be so humble, but it made his chest tighten in admiration.

  “You always insist on making me blush, Jay.” Finally hearing his name escape her pink, full lips caused a rush of blood to fall straight to his cock. And my, how beautiful those lips would look wrapped around his thick length.

  “Seeing that Jay is too busy imagining inappropriate images of you in those boots, I’ll be the gentleman and offer you my seat.”

  Taylor giggled and briefly dropped her gaze to the growing tent in his khakis as she settled in the stool. “So he is.” She bit her bottom lip when her eyes came up to his mouth. Satisfaction ran through him, and he returned her smile.

  “I came to apologize. It was rude of me to walk out on lunch like that. You two gave a great gift, and I showed my appreciation by acting like a jealous, ungrateful brat.” She took both their hands in hers. “I am so sorry. You gave so much, and I just pouted over wanting more.” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “It was selfish, and neither of you deserved that.”

  Jay turned to Brody and saw he had the same confused look he must’ve been wearing as well. Her composure and maturity astonished him. Did she just admit to “wanting more”? Where in Heaven had this woman come from? After thirty years of traveling to foreign lands, meeting the most powerful people in the world, and experiencing things most people would only dream of, nothing fascinated him like the woman before him. In contrast to the women of their past, she only got more amazing with each layer they pulled back.

  “Do you think you can handle taking a little walk through the woods in those boots,” Brody indicated to the high-heels. If only real cowgirls actually worked in those.

  “I think I can handle anything in these boots.”

  Every man in the room, as well as a couple of waitresses, turned and watched as Taylor swayed her perfect ass out the door.

  * * * *

  Last night with the girls had proved to be epic. Taylor had walked slash stumbled out of the Boom Boom Room at 2:30 a.m., feeling like a new woman. A drunk woman, but a new one, nonetheless.

  They had danced for hours and, much to the horror of the other patrons, sang along to Al Green and Tom Petty until their voices went hoarse. It was the best time she’d had in Male Order thus far.

  But somewhere between teaching Aurora the latest D-town boogie and getting her ass handed to her by Greta during a game of darts, the women shared intimate tales of love and loss.

  She’d listened intently as Aurora and Greta told stories and gave advice on being involved in a ménage. Beverley kept her advice general, avoiding the details of her marriage with her late husbands. Taylor got the hint not to push for any.

  “When you have two of the most gorgeous, wealthiest men you’ve ever met willing to share your bed, the most important thing to remember is you are your own worst enemy,” Greta had advised. “Trust me, baby girl. With men like ours, you’ll never have to be reminded how lucky you are to have them. They tend to not let you forget. In my case, they remind me about three times a day.

  “But what you do need to keep in mind is how lucky they are. Sure, they can spend all day and night telling you how much they love each and every part of your body and soul, which they will, but you have to convince yourself you deserve the best before you believe any man.

  “Women nowadays are so used to being independent our first reaction to a man taking care of us, of cherishing us, is either guilt or defiance,” Greta had said. “Being the controlling bitch I am, you can imagine it took a lot of adjusting on my part. My independence was a big part of who I was. I think back on my life as a young woman, before the devoted men or the paid bills, and I am so proud of just how much I survived, how far I’ve come. And that’s when I realized, you know what? If anyone in that damn household deserved to be pampered and worshiped, it was me. You’ve paid your dues, Taylor. Now it’s time to reward yourself.”

  She’d never thought she would ever receive such support for such a bizarre arrangement.

  We both know they’ll only leave you. Taylor quickly attempted to distract herself from the pessimistic little devil resting on her shoulder.

  “Those things look like a pair of stilts.” Jay looked concerned, eyeing her Jessica Simpson cowboy boots.

  “I’m a Dallas girl. These are practically house shoes compared to what I’m used to.”

  She followed them down an intricately paved path that wound through the town woods. She realized it was the first time she’d seen Jay and Brody looking less than immaculate. Their clothes and hair had always been in perfect place. But seeing their hair ruffled, their polo uniforms wrinkled and thoroughly worn in, the enticing scent of male and fresh-cut grass softly radiating from their bodies, she ached to feel herself trapped between them more than ever before.

  Taylor’s panties grew damp as she inhaled their addicting scent. She’d likely drive herself insane with need if she didn’t try to distract her moist pussy.

  “Is it true you developed the idea for the Velvet Rope when you started losing track of all the women you were seeing?”

  “Well,” started Jay, catching up to her side, “not exactly. We decided in economics class when we were sixteen that we would create an empire that would earn us our own names. Together.”

  Taylor noticed Jay’s failed attempt to discreetly rake her body with his eyes as he said the last word. He seemed to suddenly be too deep in thoug
ht to realize how obvious he was being. Taylor pretended not to notice, and she continued to follow Brody’s lead. Jay stayed by her side, occasionally offering a hand when she had to step over a large log or rock.

  This must be the chivalry thing I’ve heard about once or twice. In her experiences, it was rare to meet a courteous young man who made it a habit to open a lady’s car door or allow a woman to enter a room before them or even give their date the chance to order first at a restaurant, for Christ’s sake.

  * * * *

  Brody slightly turned his face over his shoulder as he hiked down the path. “Whether we were dominating on the field or in the boardroom, Jay and I have always been a natural team.”

  Brody still remembered the day they met. They were five years old and were on the same peewee football team. They’d quickly learned to play off each other’s strengths to win the game.