BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS: A MFM MENAGE ROMANCE

by Samantha Twinn

  Abandoning all sense, every bone in my body, every single muscle feels as though it's going to explode if I don't do something, and I lean in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away before my lips meet hers. Her soft full lips are surprised but her mouth opens slightly, encouraging me. I pull her up against me, none too gently, not caring if she can tell just how much I want her. A soft noise escapes Lana's mouth as I kiss the corner of it, drawing in a gasp myself as she pulls her arms around my neck. Her back is bowed against the edge of the island, and all I want to do is lift her up, taste every inch of her, explore every single part of her soft body.

  I can feel how she melts against me, her tongue grazing mine. It lights something within me, and I'm fisting my hand in her hair, hungry for so much more, overwhelmed by the fierceness of my reactions.

  Lana's hands slipped down my shoulders along the length of my arms, squeezing at my biceps as she makes her hands disappear behind me, starting to untuck my shirt from my pants. She’s untucking my shirt, and my heart skitters at the way she’s so damn into this too. I trail my lips down her jaw, another moan escaping her mouth as I do. The sound hits me right in the balls and I press against her, inhaling her scent. She smells so fucking good I can hardly stand it, like sweet spices and clean soap. Like sexy and smart all rolled up in one. The best combination.

  Through the sex fog, it dawns on me that a melodic buzzing is coming from somewhere behind her, and her eyes fly open wide. Lana's quick to pull away from me, seizing for her phone and I’m left drifting towards her, panting and disheveled.

  She’s staring the screen with wide eyes. "It's the school... I better take this,” she says, her voice huskier than usual.

  Reality quickly penetrates the moment, and I find myself apologizing, though I'm not sure I really mean it.

  "It's…just, let's not worry about it right this minute. It was probably just the wine anyway," she says picking up the phone.

  The wine? But we had only had a few sips.

  She turns away for a moment, answering the phone, listening in for a moment before she tells them thank you and hangs up. "Well, that was the school nurse, and apparently Olivia sick. I'm gonna need to go pick her up." Lana is already grabbing for her purse and keys on the edge of the island, and I'm trying to think of what to say next.

  "I can come with you, I can have the driver —"

  "No. I'll take the car, thank you, but this is a parent thing. I'll go pick her up myself." Her words are firm, just like her expression. There'll be no arguing with her here.

  I’m surprised by how much her words sting, but I shrug it off. "Yeah, of course." Something tickles the back my mind about Olivia and school… "Lana? Have you considered my offer to set up Olivia with Wellington-Meade? Joseph was telling me how Olivia is working on high school level math already, and maybe it’s just my opinion, but she should be in a place where she can really thrive. She's a special girl." I can't help but smile thinking about Olivia's matter of fact personality. It reminds me so much of Lana.

  "Right now? Are we really gonna do this right now? My daughter is just a sick little girl who wants her mom. She's not thinking about school, math, or anything else. So, can I go?"

  I'm so surprised by her tone that I don't know would say. Clearly, I had said something wrong, overstepped some kind of invisible line. "Sure, of course. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

  Lana has no time for my apology, though and turns on her heel to leave out the front door.

  It takes me a few minutes to finally pull myself away from the edge of the counter, walking over to the sink to drain our glasses of wine. I can still feel Lana on my lips, her soft gasping, her small breaths. Did I just make a huge mistake?

  10

  JOSEPH

  I don't like the way that the doctors are whispering, pretending as though I'm just some kid who doesn't know any better, I guess. It's bullshit, that's all I know—whatever they're being all hush-hush about over there in the corner. Dr. Brinkley, my surgeon, gives the other doctor a curt nod before turning to face me, the other doctor slipping out the door. In Dr. Brinkley's hands are two files, the dark edge of an x-ray peeking out of one of them. "Okay, so we've got your results here, Joseph."

  Thank God for being rich I guess, because usually, these things take much longer than a matter of a couple of hours. “All right. Lay them on me then, Doc."

  "Well, there's good news…and then there's some not so great news," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose and pushing his glasses back up.

  "Please don't beat around the bush, just tell me what's going on." No need to keep me in suspense or anything, asshole.

  "The good news is that the pins can come out. That was one of our main concerns here today. However, that will be another surgical procedure for you to undergo, and while we’re in there we’re going to be doing a cleanup of some of the scar tissue that's been building up around the last surgical site."

  All I hear is another surgical procedure. "I have to do this all over again?"

  There's a wince before he answers. "There will be another recuperation period, yes. Of course, you’ll need bed rest after the surgery, but not quite as long this time. You should be ready for your next round of physical therapy in about four to five weeks."

  Everything inside of me starts thrumming, like a whole bunch of bees buzzing, getting louder and louder. It's hard to control myself as I try to find my voice. "I only just managed to get back on my feet. Literally a few days ago, in fact, and now you're telling me I’ll have to go through all of that shit again. All of that again? This is unbelievable," I mutter more to myself than the doctor. I know it’s not his fault but I can’t help the anger that seeps in to what I’m saying.

  Dr. Brinkley seems to take it all in his stride and starts going on about the procedure for the next surgery, but I tune him out, lost in my own thoughts. As irritated and frankly pissed off as I am in having to deal with another month and some change stuck in my damn bed, at least I know it means Lana and Olivia will have to stick around longer. It’s my silver lining to this shit cloud.

  I'm given one of the files by Dr. Brinkley, and after the surgery has been scheduled, I carefully slide myself back into the medical transport van, waiting to get back home so I can be pissed off in my own damn home.

  As we pull up to the front of the casino, Lana is already out there waiting for me, her hair pulled up and off her neck. At least I'll have her to talk with. She's no stranger to me ranting and raving, thankfully.

  The door slides open and she greets me with a half a smile, but it doesn't meet her eyes. Right away I can tell something is off about her, but I keep quiet until she helps me down out of the van.

  "Here you go, sir," the van driver says as she pulls a wheelchair around for me to sit in.

  I grind my teeth together just looking at it. "No, none of that. No way am I gonna be pushed around in a damn wheelchair like some invalid anymore."

  Lana steps beside me, thanking the van driver before they take off, and she levels me with her gaze. "No sense in taking it easy, huh?" she teases me lightly, letting me lean on her as we make the long trek back up to the penthouse.

  We make it inside the elevator, where it’s luckily just the two of us, when the silence between us gets to me. "Is something up? Are you okay?" I ask.

  She quickly blinks but shrugs as if she's totally fine. I’m not buying it. "No, everything's good. What did your surgeon have to say?" Changing the subject then? Okay…

  On the way up to the penthouse level, I explain what Dr. Brinkley told me about needing the second surgery including cleaning up the scar tissue. I try to keep my temper level but it's hard to do with the next recovery looming ahead. All I want is to be my old self. I hate the way Lana’s only ever known this broken version of me. If we’d crossed paths a few months ago, I know she’d never have resisted me.

  The elevator doors spring open and she helps me inside the penthouse, unlocking the door for me. We walk past Michae
l whose standing in the hallway for some reason, inspecting something on his phone and clearly not paying one bit of attention to anything else. It's weird because usually, he doesn't let anybody go past him without saying something, but whatever's going on with his phone must be pretty damn important. I remind myself to bring up with him when he comes into my room later, but when Lana opens the door for me and helps me get settled back down in my bed, there’s some kind of tension flittering across her face. Something she's trying to keep down. Oh yeah, something is definitely going on… Something between her and Michael maybe? Did they have some kind of interlude while I was at the hospital?

  Lana's talking about the next procedure without much inflection in her tone, clearly just trying to appease me, and make me feel better about the whole thing, but all I want to know is what happened while I was gone.…or maybe I don't want to know. A snaking feeling of jealousy coils in my gut.

  It's hard to explain the way I feel about Lana because it goes past more than just admiring how absolutely fucking hot she is. And deep down I know that nothing's gonna happen between us, especially with me being a damn cripple anyway. It's not like I ever had a chance. Part of me thinks maybe I should be happy for my brother if something did happen between the two of them. But another part of me? Not so much.

  It's just weird because when Michael's into a woman he usually makes it well-known, he doesn't keep it to himself like this. Am I reading too much into this?

  Unable to keep quiet much longer, I finally bring it up. I’ve got nothing to lose by asking. "All right. What happened?"

  "I'm sorry?" Lana pretends she has no idea what I'm talking about. Fucking figures.

  "Between you and my brother. What happened? You two are suddenly giving each other the silent treatment so what did I miss?"

  Her mouth parts slightly as she struggles to find the right thing to say. "No, nothing happened. Nothing at all…I just…it's nothing."

  I sigh. "It's fine if something did happen, I mean it's not like I care."

  She gives me another cool look. "Well, I wouldn't care if you did care. Why would you think that you have any opinion on the matter anyway?"

  Touchy, touchy! Apparently, I was right all along. "No need to get all bent out of shape about it, Lana. I was just merely making an observation. You’re both acting weird."

  She moves jerkily as she stands back up from the bed, clamping her hand over her mouth. She brings it away for a moment to utter a soft "I'm sorry, Joseph." Without saying much of anything else, she walks over to gather up my meds for the afternoon, pouring me a tall glass of water and handing them to me. "I'll, ah, I'll come back to check on you in a little while."

  I don't know why but I don't want her to leave just yet. "Hey, how's Olivia doing with her trig?" I've been wondering if she's moved on to straight calculus at this point, as smart as she is.

  Obvious confusion clouds Lana's face. "What?" The quiet demeanor and her expression has changed, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth.

  "Her trigonometry. I was helping her with some of it, and I was just wondering if she was having any more trouble with it. She hasn't been back to me about it since."

  Lana shakes her head, looking completely mystified. "Are you telling me my daughter's working on trigonometry? As in high school level math? How do you even know that? And…you’re helping?"

  I don't know what to take offense to first. Finally, I snort, unable to help myself. "Well, yeah. You know I have a Master’s degree in business, right? It's not like I'm an actual idiot or anything."

  She raises an eyebrow at me. "Being educated and not being an idiot are two completely separate things." God, her sass turns me on.

  I grin back at her. "Clearly, they’re not."

  She doesn't know whether to be upset or amused, and I can tell she's trying to lean towards the former, quickly putting my box of medicine away before heading out the door. The grin on my face falters, and I can't help it feel another sting of jealousy over her and Michael because whatever the case may be, something definitely happened between the two of them.

  11

  LANA

  I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking. Every day in this situation is like torture. I’m trying to stay professional but every time I have to tend to Joseph, my heart pounds like a drum. Every inch of him is perfection, except of course the part of him that’s injured. Seeing him wince at my touch breaks my heart. Even though I know he’s improving because of my care, it’s so damn hard to be the one pushing him through pain for his own good. Then there’s Michael. I reach up and touch my lips. We kissed and it was amazing. Spine tingling, hair standing on end amazing, but he’s my boss and it was such a huge mistake I can hardly look at him.

  I’m trying to hold it together and be professional.

  I’m trying to keep my distance from them both but it’s so hard.

  I just have to see them and my mind drifts into day dreams about their arms around me, their lips on my neck. I’m so confused because sometimes my fantasies feature Michael and sometimes Joseph. It’s been so long since I felt this way about a man, and now I feel it about two at the same time. And if that weren’t bad enough, they are brothers. I remember how Joseph sounded when he suspected that something had happened between me and Michael. There was raw jealousy there. I remember how it felt to feel Michael’s passion and I flush hot. I know they’re both attracted to me. For whatever reason, they’ve got it into their heads that I’m available but that is exactly what I’m not.

  I can’t be a nurse to Joseph and give into my feelings.

  I can’t be a good employee to Michael and allow a repeat performance of what happened in the kitchen.

  I can’t be a good mom to Olivia and risk my job here.

  I can’t be kind to myself to allow airtime to all of these mixed up feelings and desires.

  Oh, the desires. I’m so hot between my legs whenever I’m near either of the Wright brothers. Thinking about the size of Joseph’s…I blush just thinking about it. Some men seem to get blessed a whole lot more than others. I’m a mom and I feel awful thinking this way. It’s like when I had Olivia, and things fell apart with Javier, I put away my womanly feelings and I can’t seem to accept that they might be coming back.

  Then I see the way they are with Olivia and my heart breaks that they treat her with more care than her own father. My baby girl deserves so much in this life and I’m willing to make the sacrifices to help her along the way. If that means pushing away all feelings for the Wright brothers and forcing myself to keep my head on straight, then that what I have to do.

  The day of Joseph's surgery is here, and I’m nervous. More nervous than I should be about a patient. I know this means I care too much and I don’t like it.

  "Good luck," I call out to him anyway, my hand rising in a small wave as he and Michael head out to the elevator on the way to his surgery. I know he’s in the best of hands but it won’t stop me fretting.

  It's the first time Olivia and I have been left in the penthouse alone like this, and I easily fall into the sofa in our makeshift apartment, completely drained. All this having to keep up my professional demeanor, pushing away thoughts of Michael and Joseph…it’s wearing me out.

  It'll be nice to have a break from everything today, and I smile over at Olivia as she comes into the living room, carrying a book with her. I peek over and see the cover of 'Edgar Allan Poe's complete Life Collection."

  "Hey, honey," I say to her quietly, instantly comforted by the closeness of her as she sidles up next to me, propping the book open in her lap. The scent of her strawberry shampoo wafts past me, taking me back to years ago when her hair was finally long enough to use real shampoo on it.

  "Hey," she mumbles back, completely lost in her book.

  Catching her with books way out of her grade level isn’t a surprise whatsoever, but it does remind me of something Joseph brought up last week.

  "Livi? Joseph was telling me that you were learning
trigonometry? How come you didn't tell me?"

  My daughter, ever the patient one, places her butterfly bookmark back in the book, closing it before staring straight ahead, her cheeks flushed. Clearly, this was not something she thought I knew about.

  "Don't worry, Mom. I'm still doing all my homework from school."

  "Oh, I know that honey. I'm just… surprised, I guess. I'm glad you're keeping on top of things. But are you finding school boring? Like maybe there isn’t enough going on for you, to keep your interest?"

  I hold my breath as she finally turns to me. "It's not boring. But…"

  "But what?"

  She fidgets with the book in her lap before finally continuing on, "Well, sometimes some of the teachers keep going on and on about stuff I already know. And I know why they do it because none of the other kids know it, so they have to learn too. I know that, but when I brought my notebook to Mrs. Stockton to show her that math problem I found on YouTube…I don't know, I think it made her mad or something. She kept saying I couldn't jump ahead of everybody. That's why I stopped asking her about the harder math problems. It made her mad, and I don't think…" she pauses for a moment, her dark eyes widening. "I don't think Mrs. Stockton is very smart," she finally whispers.

  Something surges in my chest. Part of its anger that her teacher couldn't offer her more resources, or even more of her time to help Olivia, considering how patient she was already being knowing everything she knew. But then again, her teacher wasn't teaching strictly for Olivia. I swallow hard. "I'm sorry they're not challenging you enough, baby. I wish there was something more I could do but…well, at least you're trying to push yourself to learn more.” I watch the way she hangs on my every word, ruffling her hair to lighten the mood.

  As smart as my baby girl is, she’s still just that, my baby. And sometimes even I'm surprised to find that she still wants me to comfort her. I'm not sure I can keep up with her and her school work though, and I can just see it causing problems down the road.