BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS: A MFM MENAGE ROMANCE

by Samantha Twinn

  I find myself trying my best to sit up, suddenly aware of the fact that I'm completely naked in bed. "Come on in, Ms. Romero," I say to her as Rita excuses herself.

  When Ms. Romero walks over, it's with a confidence that I find stunning. "Please, call me Lana. I'll be here all the time anyway, so we might as well be on first-name terms, don't you think?"

  Can't argue with that. "Of course. Lana, it is then. And you can call me Joseph, obviously."

  There's a small smile on her face. "Okay, Joseph. I'd like to start out by getting an assessment of your comfort level."

  Well. Right into it then, I guess. I nod as she takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. "Sure."

  "Where would you say your pain level is on a scale of one to ten, with one being no pain at all, and ten being the worst pain you can imagine?"

  I take stock of every weird, disjointed numbness, every prickle of itchy tingling, and shrug. "I guess a three, maybe." But when I pull myself up even further I can't help but wince as a pain shoots from the numb region of my ass all the way up to my mid-back.

  And of course, she notices, raising a brow as she writes something down on her clipboard. "All right. Can you describe the issues you're currently dealing with to me? What's your personal concern at the moment?"

  My personal concern is that I can't get the hell out of this bed and fuck Brigid from Norway in the hot tub at the ski resort. But I don't say that. "Just the usual back pain. My legs are kinda sore, but nothing I can't handle," I say, shrugging again. Call me crazy, but I'm no complainer. The last thing I want to do is whine about my injury to a smoking hot nurse like Lana.

  "Mm-hmm. Usual back pain. In the region around the surgical site?" More note-taking, her dark eyebrow still raised.

  I nod. "Um, yeah, I think so. Like the lower part of my back where they had it all numbed. The numbness comes and goes still, but it can be kind of painful when it goes." I play it off, turning to the side as if to show her there's not much of a problem.

  She studies me for a moment, but not in a way I would call impressed. More clinical, than anything. Setting her clipboard down, Lana uncrosses her legs and leans in some. "I'll be honest with you here, Joseph. I don't entirely believe you. You're fresh off a major surgery, and while I know you must be experiencing some numbness, I would imagine there's more pain there than you're letting on."

  It's like a shock to my bones hearing her say this, and as I go to open my mouth and argue, she holds up her hand patiently.

  "I don't say this to upset you, I say this to help you. Bravado isn't going to serve you well, you know. In fact, it'll keep you in that bed longer, and from what I can tell by the way you keep fidgeting, you're not fond of sitting still. I can't imagine how aggravating bed rest must be for you."

  I snap my mouth shut, this time studying her. Her assessment of me is right on the money, especially for someone who's only just met me. "Fine then. This shit hurts. I'm miserable and I'd like it to stop. Better?"

  Narrowing her eyes at me, she nods. "Much. Now. I'm going to try a few adjustments here, to see if they'll help you at least while you're in bed…" She gets to work, taking two of the extra pillows kept nearby and pulling back the sheet from my legs. "Let's put this one under your thighs, and this one under your feet here."

  Without so much as a twitch of her eyebrow, Lana pushes back the sheet to the tops of my thighs, not blinking an eye at my well-endowed lower half. She helps me move my thighs up enough for her to stick the one pillow up underneath, before fixing the sheet back over me, and fluffing the second one, sticking it under my feet. She doesn't care one bit about my complete nakedness, and while I know she's a nurse, it stings a little. I know what I'm working with, and I've put in enough hours at the gym and heard all the compliments from many a woman. Yet it doesn't even faze her.

  But what's more surprising is that after a minute, the blood in my legs circulates a little less and the insane itching in my left leg fades. "Whoa. That uh, that actually helps some," I admit.

  "I'm glad to hear it," she says, turning back toward me as she grabs her clipboard. It takes a little while longer, but once she's finished with me, I notice how she refuses to look anywhere else but at my face. Maybe she's a sucker for blue eyes?

  "I've got your medicine schedule down, and I'll even be bringing in a board so you can see for yourself when you'll need everything. We can keep it across the room there if you'd like, and then, of course, I'll be assisting with your physical therapy in a few weeks, once you're ready for it."

  The idea of having to wait three weeks before I can even begin PT is enough to drive me crazy on its own. Her eyes flicker again, and I begin to think that maybe I'm right. She might just be smitten on her patient, after all. I can't blame her, though it does make for an interesting time.

  "I'll check on you hourly, but you can call me anytime. Here's my number, in case I don't hear you," she adds, slipping a piece of paper onto my tray table.

  I bet you will.

  "I'm also going to be adjusting your diet a bit and helping you keep clean at least until you can move around easier. It'll be uh, difficult, for you to attempt bathing on your own at the moment."

  It might be every guys fantasy to have a gorgeous nurse rubbing him down, but the idea of Lana having to give me an actual sponge bath is absolutely humiliating. I look away, embarrassed to be in this state of total helplessness.

  But as soon as I do, I get a good look at the bulging tent of sheet directly over my hard dick, and my jaw hangs open. Fuck! "Oh, god, I uh, well… shit, I'm sorry," I say as I try to cover it up with more sheets, already realizing that Lana was trying not to look at my raging boner, but she waves me off, obviously not as affected as me.

  "No, it's totally fine. Just a normal reaction. Your spinal nerves can sometimes overstimulate other nerve receptors, and that can cause involuntary muscle spasms. And since you probably don't have a ton of sensation… It's no big deal."

  Ouch. No big deal?

  "I'm just… going to check on you in a bit. Let me know if you need anything. Really." And with that, Lana briskly walks out the door, shutting it behind her, and leaving me shaking my head at myself.

  I groan loudly. "Now you work just fine? Traitor," I mumble to my dick which is already softening, starting to lie flat again.

  Not even a full ten seconds go by before the door opens again, and I quickly grab another pillow, covering myself up just in case.

  In walks Michael, an amused look on his face as he sees the peculiar pillow placement. "Seems like you two are getting along fine."

  I groan again. "Oh, yeah. Fucking swell. I've already managed to humiliate myself and it's been all of what, twenty minutes? I think that might be some new personal record."

  But my brother's already over it, moving on to more pressing matters as he does. "I met with Banks. He says the paperwork from Paolo looks good. Your thoughts?"

  "Paolo Moreno? And do we trust Paolo Moreno with something like this?" I know I sure as hell don't.

  Michael shrugs as he takes a seat. "It could be a risk; I won't lie to you. What is your gut telling you?" It's good to know he has the respect to listen to some of my instincts like I do, anyway.

  "I get the sense that he's earnest, at least. And if he is being honest, well, it's an opportunity to do something worthwhile. I guess I'm in if you are," I finally admit.

  He nods. "Then it's settled. I'll have Thelma bring you the paperwork for your signature." He pauses, something else entirely crossing his mind. "Lana's really something, isn't she?"

  I think about the way she blatantly couldn't care less about my dick being out as she fluffed my pillows. "Yeah. She's something."

  "At least you're in no position to try and screw this one. It'll be interesting to see how you deal with being in the presence of a woman you can't actually fuck." Sure, there's a chuckle, but it doesn't make me want to smack the shit out of his smug-ass face any less.

  I roll my eyes at his stupid smirk. "
Don't be so sure, big bro. Apparently, my junk works just fine. Even if not for me. She didn't seem to be complaining."

  Now Michael's the one rolling his eyes while I'm left smirking. "Maybe so, but I suspect that there's something about dealing with a man's bed pan that makes him somewhat, well, less attractive to a woman. I could be wrong, though."

  Leave it to Michael to take his leave on that note. Asshole.

  I sigh, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling, debating on whether or not I want to try the TV again and wondering why I make such shitty decisions.

  5

  LANA

  “Rita, I’m just going to be stepping out for a moment. I need to go pick up my daughter,” I call out to the sweet housekeeper, throwing my purse over my shoulder.

  Rita’s wiping her hands clean with a paper towel as she peeks around the corner from the kitchen. “I’ll call the car for you, honey.”

  The car? “That won’t be necessary, I’ll just catch the bus.”

  She gives me a knowing look, taking another step forward. “I understand, but Michael insists. He’s already hired a second driver just for your use.”

  My shoulders sag and the purse slips down to my forearm, yanking at me with its weight. “I, um, I really don’t need all of that. I’ll be fine taking the bus, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  But Rita laughs, folding her arms. “Believe me, I get it, Lana, but the boys treat the people who work for them very well, so it’s best if you just go ahead and accept it now. Michael, especially can very persistent if he doesn’t get his way.”

  It’s a strange statement, to be sure. Especially given the fact that I’m pretty sure both Michael and Joseph are somewhat attracted to me. I’m good at reading people, so maybe a little more than pretty sure. The thought brought to the forefront of my mind feels sharp and dangerous, since I’m definitely attracted to them. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

  But I know how to handle myself like the professional that I am, after all, so I can push my attraction to them to the very back of my mind. “Okay, I guess I’ll take the car then,” I finally give in.

  When I get down to the lobby of the immaculately decorated casino, my temporary home of all places, I can already see the black SUV waiting out in front for me, a driver in an honest-to-god uniform and hat standing outside it.

  I can’t help but feel self-conscious as I make my way to the SUV, people all around looking, watching, and when I make a beeline to the passenger rear door, I nearly collide into the driver as he rushes to open it for me, seeing me coming. God, I already feel like an idiot.

  “Where to, ma’am?” the driver asks once he’s settled into the driver’s seat.

  Pushing the frizzy mess of hair back from my face, I lean forward. “5809 Bleaker Street. But, actually, you don’t have to drive me all the way there. In fact, you can just let me off at the corner of Howard Road and Jacobs Street.”

  The driver, who looks like he could easily be my grandfather, waves me off, meeting my gaze in the rearview, “It’s no trouble.”

  Maybe not for him.

  When we do finally pull up after an awkwardly silent ride that I might have well have spent on the city bus, I grab my purse, hesitating. “Um. I’m sorry, I’m kind of new to all this. Am I supposed to tip you now, or…?”

  “That’s not necessary, ma’am.” Putting the car into park, he quickly gets out and comes around to open my door.

  “I guess you can come back in about an hour. I won’t be any longer than that,” I tell him.

  Staring ahead, he nods. “I’m on the clock, ma’am so I’ll just wait here. It’s no trouble.”

  No trouble, no trouble. I wish life were that easy. “Are you sure? I can just—”

  “Really,” he cuts me off. “Take your time.”

  Unsure of what to say next, I turn and just accept the weirdness, heading up the sidewalk to Nomie’s house, in hopes that she won’t ask questions about the big black SUV in her driveway.

  Of course, it doesn’t work out that way, and as soon as Nomie answers the door, her eyes go all wide as she glances at the vehicle. “Holy shit, Lana. Who’s your new patient, the freaking president?”

  Laughing, I push past her. “No. Besides… you know I can’t talk about my clients like that.”

  “Still though, whoever it is must be loaded. I mean, a personal escort? Where do I sign up for this job?”

  “Ha. Ha. It is weird, I’ll give you that. According to him, he’s just going to hang out there and wait, I guess,” I say, jutting my thumb out toward the window as I take a seat on her couch. “Where are the girls?”

  Nomie grabs her cup of coffee from the table and sits down, too. “Upstairs playing Barbies.” She crosses her legs and wiggles her eyebrows at me suggestively. “So. How was the first day, Miss Daisy?”

  I ignore the jab. “It was…something.”

  Probably the wrong thing to say given Nomie’s nosy nature. And sure enough…

  “Oh, I’m already intrigued. What happened? I mean, you don’t have to tell me who it is but like, is it someone famous? You can tell me that part, at least, right?”

  I smile at her and her still raised eyebrows. Nomie never could resist digging for the dirt. “No. I don’t think so, anyway.”

  Tapping her long nail against her chin, she studies me none too seriously. “Hmm. Not famous. Okay, are they like…hot?”

  In the tiniest moment of me hesitating, Nomie learns all she needs to know. “Oh my, rich and hot? But, married, right?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so, no.”

  “But definitely gay, right?”

  I can’t help but blush. “Gay? Ha… apparently not.” Oh shit. I said that out loud, didn’t I?

  Nomie is like a dog on a bone. “And what exactly does that mean? They didn’t hit on you, did they? Look at your face—they totally did! Lana, you bad girl,” she laughs, her mouth open wide.

  Flustered, I try to think of how to word it without giving too much away, but the sound of the girls coming down the stairs saves me from having to utter a single thing.

  Nomie, however, isn’t too pleased as she frowns at me, knowing me too well.

  “Hey sweetheart, we gotta get going, okay?” I say to Olivia, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. I can see the way she looks between the two of us that she knows something’s up, but she smiles sweetly up at me anyway. “Bye, Katie. See you tomorrow,” she calls out from the front door, looking back over her shoulder.

  For a moment, I wonder just how I got so lucky to have been blessed with such an amazing child, but then we open the door and Olivia, never dramatic, softly gasps.

  “Is that for us?” She points at the car, her eyes wide as saucers.

  “Uh, yes. It sure is. Just for me to make sure you get to the casino, um, our apartment I mean,” I hesitate.

  But she’s already running toward the driver, her hand extended to give him a firm shake, smiling up at him with both her bottom front teeth missing. “Hi! I’m Olivia, it’s nice to meet you!”

  The driver grins back at her. “Hello Miss Olivia, I’m Gus. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  It hits me square in my chest with a flood of embarrassment that while my seven-year-old properly introduced herself to Gus, I had not. I clear my throat and reach out my hand to shake his as well. “And I’m Olivia’s mother, Lana. I apologize for not introducing myself before…”

  But Gus waves me off graciously. “No worries, ma’am. You were just in a rush. I completely understand.”

  Hopping in after Olivia, I see that she’s already fiddling with the various controls to the small TV screens that are now dropping down from the ceiling. Huh. I hadn’t even realized they were there.

  Watching Olivia’s face light up as we enter the front of the casino, I have to admit, it’s nice to see her being so open to such a change. The ride up the elevator, I launch into my whole prepared conversation points with her.

  “Michael and Joseph are very wealt
hy, so there are a lot of valuable, expensive things in their penthouse. You’ll have to be careful to not break anything. We’ll have our own part of the penthouse which is actually bigger than our last apartment funny enough, but we still need to be respectful of their place.”

  As always, Olivia regards me patiently, listening and nodding along as if she didn’t already know how to behave herself. “Mom, I understand. I’m almost eight now, so I’m not a little kid anymore. I’ll be careful…and I’ll make extra sure not to draw on the walls with my crayons,” she adds slyly. I tickle her sides as the elevator door opens. “Seriously though. It’s going to be okay. You should probably chill out and relax a little bit. We’ll be fine.”

  I’d laugh at how grown up she sounds but I hate that she can see the tension in my shoulders as we go into the penthouse.

  Right away I catch sight of Michael and Rita in the kitchen, Michael looking over a newspaper while Rita wipes down the counters. It takes me a moment to realize I’m staring at the way his shirt pulls taut across his back muscles, and I immediately look away, flustered and more than a little irritated with myself. It’s one thing to notice your employer (and your patient, for that matter) is incredibly handsome. It’s quite another to let yourself enjoy it. It’s been such a long time since I found any man attractive in this way. It’s been too long since my heart skipped a beat and my face went warm in response to seeing someone. I’ve missed those feelings but pushed all of that aside while I focus on Olivia. I’ve kept myself cool and professional. I’ve held myself apart from anything outside of motherhood and work but those things only fulfill a part of me. No matter how busy my life is, there is always a little bit of me that feels hollow. Now here I am in a position where I’m all these forgotten sensations are bubbling but I can’t allow myself to feel these feelings or think these thoughts. I want to enjoy feeling like a woman again but I can’t. I sigh softly because this is such a difficult position to be in.