BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS: A MFM MENAGE ROMANCE

by Samantha Twinn

  Michael's offer for her private schooling floats back into my mind, teasing at me. Part of me knows I’m being prideful to turn down an offer like that, especially since this is my daughter I'm talking about and not me. It would be one thing to refuse education for myself, but I would do anything to get Olivia where she should be in life, as blessed as I am to have her to begin with. It’s also because I'm worried the offer comes with strings attached and those are strings I can’t risk getting tangled up in.

  A few minutes pass, Olivia keeping quiet as I consider what to do.

  "Is Joseph going to be okay?" Her small voice rises above the silence and is overflowing with concern.

  I pull her to me until her head is laying on my chest, and run my hands through her long shiny dark hair. "Of course he will, baby." But I sigh. It's just another sign. Olivia cares so deeply about people which is a good thing, yes, but there's still that underlying feeling I’m getting that she's becoming too attached. "Olivia, you do understand that Michael and Joseph are my employers, right?"

  She sits up abruptly, her eyes narrowing at me. "Yes, of course I do. I know that Michael and Joseph aren’t my new dads or anything, Mom." Her voice is level, but I can tell she's frustrated that I even brought it up to begin with. "Have you heard from my dad?"

  My chest tightens as I try to keep calm. "No, I haven't," I smoothly lie. In all honesty, I had blocked the number right after he tried to call me and threaten me the first time around.

  I hate the way Olivia's face crumbles slowly, and as she asks me if she can watch something on her tablet, I fight the urge to pull her back into a hug. "Yes, go ahead."

  My stomach clenches with all the worry I have. Children need a male influence in their life, ideally from their fathers but Olivia’s dad, well he’s the kind of man you want to run away from, not cuddle up to at bedtime for cocoa and stories. Maybe her attachment to Joseph and Michael is developing so fast because of what she’s missing with Javier?

  I know I’m doing the right thing keeping him away but I hope the effect on Olivia won’t be too lasting.

  --

  The elevator dings loudly, and I hold the door open as Michael accompanies the medical staff from the hospital as they push Joseph in into the penthouse, quietly closing it behind us. It's clear that Joseph is still out of it, his eyes closed and face peaceful.

  "How did everything go?" I ask Michael.

  He nods, not quite meeting my eyes. "Everything went smoothly, at least according to the surgeon."

  "There you are," Joseph suddenly exclaims, his eyes unfocused as he stares up at me, a goofy grin on his face. "I was asking where you went."

  I suppress a smile on my face, nodding at Michael and gesturing for him to lead the way into Joseph's bedroom in the back.

  It takes a few minutes to lift Joseph up onto his bed, then the medical transport team leave and Michael accompanies them to the door. I’m left alone with Joseph and with all the crazy nonsense spouting from his mouth, I'm glad Olivia is in her room, probably still reading that book.

  "And some... TV. Some porn. I need something to drink. And my mouth is dry... Lana, I need some water. Or some beer. Probably some beer. Michael's got a good pale ale 'round here," Joseph mumbles incoherently, brushing away at something on his face. He groans as he pulls something, clearly uncomfortable.

  Michael comes back and he’s clearly more amused than concerned.

  Even with all the awkward tension between us, I can't help but look over Joseph's head at him, fighting the laugh that's building up inside.

  "You, angel you," Joseph says, louder than before. "You're like that famous nurse, you know her? She's like a bird, all right? Got me fighting that itch, Lana." He shakes his head almost resignedly.

  This time I do laugh, the giggle sputtering out of me before I can hold it in. An amused smile crosses Michael's face but something twitches in his eye, and a moment later he's mumbling something about having to go catch up on some work, quickly exiting stage right and leaving me and his brother alone.

  I know it's just Joseph being drugged out of his mind and rightfully so, but when I start to leave after his brother and Joseph reaches out to catch my wrist in his hand, it sends chills up my spine. "Can you just stay in here with me?" he asks, sounding sincere. His voice is rough, the anesthesia still wearing off, but it still manages to pull at me deep down.

  Eyeing the chair next to him, I shrug and smile, pulling it up beside his bed. "Sure."

  It takes a few minutes for him to stop babbling so much, and I let him hold my hand the whole time, Joseph slipping in and out of consciousness as the drugs finally pull him under, his breathing heavy. Just as I think he's fully asleep, his eyes flutter open, the dark lashes pulling me in. "You're so amazing," he whispers loudly. His throat is raw with how coarse he sounds, but he goes on. "If I wasn't in this bed… I'd show you a thing…believe me."

  I play it off, rolling my eyes at him. "Oh, I'm sure." I haven't seen this extremely flirty side of him very much, probably because of the circumstances. I can’t say that I’m complaining either, the way his sleepy smile is directed only at me.

  "Thank you for staying," he adds. "It's kind of like my mom. She used to hang around when I would be scared to go to bed at night when I was really little. Even smaller than Olivia. She would really like you, you know? That would've been nice if you could've met her."

  I'm taken aback by the vulnerability in Joseph's voice, and it softens everything inside of me, making me wish it were true, too. I know it's just the drugs talking in him, but it's nice to see that he's not always so rough around the edges and that he’s able to expose his vulnerability.

  "I wish I could've met her. I bet she was a lovely woman. She raised two good men."

  The heavy breathing picks back up as his eyes flutter close again, this time asleep for real. I wait until the light filtering in through the blinds of his windows darkens, before finally letting go of his hand and straightening myself back up. I stand for a while and watch him sleep, taking in the boyishness about the way he looks in sleep. My fingers itch to brush over his forehead, to caress his cheek. I feel a tenderness in my heart that is more than just long term care attachment. It doesn’t matter that I’ve tried so hard to keep things professional, my heart doesn’t seem to care.

  He's home and he’s okay and the relief is overwhelming. Now I’ve just got to hope that his recovery is swift and then I can finally tear myself away from Joseph and Michael for good before my heart is lost for good.

  12

  MICHAEL

  If I thought it was hard trying to avoid Lana beforehand, I had no idea. After our kiss, it was that much more difficult. She made it so clear that she wanted me to stay out of her way, and since that's what made her comfortable, I’m willing to give in, but we live in the same place so it's not as if I can avoid her all the time.

  Every time we run into each other a blush flashes across her face, and she fights to look away, as though she doesn’t want to look me in the eyes. It hurts, I'll admit it, but I respect Lana, and I want her to feel welcome here, even if that means she doesn't speak to me anymore outside of necessity and pleasantries.

  But on the nights that she's up, having trouble sleeping, or when I come home early to go over the business matters with Joseph and she’s here, it's like there's this tension getting wound tighter and tighter by several degrees. I'm waiting for the day that it finally pulls too tight, breaking at both ends. I can only hope that the longer she spends here, the more likely she is to feel as I do.

  The end of Lana's job here with us closer and closer in sight. Joseph's already started physical therapy again, happy to be moving around finally, and I'm glad to see him back on his feet quite literally, even as slow-moving as he is for now. When he comes back up each day from his PT down in the spa room, there seems to be a sense of accomplishment in his eyes, like a little piece of him finally settling back into place. It's good, but it also means Lana and Olivia will be gone be
fore too long.

  I don’t want to think about that.

  I push open the front door, after fishing around for my keys in my pocket, glad to be out of that ridiculous meeting with the board members. With everything going on with our deal with Paolo, the last thing I need is to have to fight for everything in our company, and wrestle it away from the remaining board members.

  I'm surprised to see Olivia perched on the end of the sectional in the open living room area, reminding me of a little bird sitting there, flipping through pictures on her tablet. "Good morning," I say, not wanting to startle her, but as always, she's completely unruffled, looking up at me with her big brown eyes and smiling back. "Good morning, Michael."

  I lean in to get a better look at the picture she's looking at, seeing a group of kids around. All wearing iconic mouse ears. "What's that you got there?"

  "I'm just looking at these pictures of my friend Hallie, and her family. They just got back from Disneyland." She slides her finger across the tablet a couple more times, before pointing to a little blonde-haired girl with her two front teeth missing, holding up bunny ears behind a smaller little girl and little boy, presumably her brother and sister.

  I smile. "I remember when my mom took me and Joseph to Disneyland for the first time. We were a couple years younger than you, of course, but it was still amazing. I remember how Joseph hated riding the flying the Dumbo ride. He was kind of a big baby back then," I say, winking at her.

  "I've always wanted to go to Disneyland. I know a ton of people who have, but my dad did say he would take me one day. Then again…he says a lot of things." She trails off, flicking her fingers faster across the tablet, clearly agitated. Immediately I feel terrible for saying anything.

  "Well, if you want, I can take you and your mom to Disneyland."

  I love the way her eyes light up, her small jaw hanging wide open. "Really? You would do that?"

  From down the hall, a door shuts, and in comes, Lana decked out in her scrubs, surprised to see me standing here talking to her daughter. She gives me a small but polite smile and I can almost hear the question in her eyes. What's up?

  "Mom!" Olivia spins around to face her. "Michael just said that we can all go to Disneyland together! Isn't that awesome?"

  I can't help but smile at Olivia's absolute enthusiasm, but when Lana doesn't say anything, I catch a glance at her and the smile is immediately wiped from my face. She's not pleased. At all. Even her smile is stiff as she looks back down to her daughter.

  "Olivia, why don’t you go ahead and finish up your homework?" She gestures to where the bedroom is, and even Olivia can tell something has shifted in the way her mom has spoken.

  When Olivia turns and gives me a sympathetic look, that's when I know it's serious. "Good luck," she whispers to me before hopping off the edge of the couch and heading out of the room.

  I barely have a moment to register what's happening before Lana storms up to me, her face positively livid. "What the hell do you think you're doing, making promises to my daughter like that?"

  I hold up my hands, not wanting to fight. "I assure you, I can afford the tickets no problem. Hell, I can shut down the whole damn park for you too if you want."

  Lana just lets out a groan of the exasperation, her eyes narrowing even more. "That is so not the point here, Michael. What are you doing making promises to Olivia like that? Are you trying to buy her affection to get to me?"

  It's not like that at all, and I find myself meeting her anger with some of my own, completely forgetting to keep my cool. "That’s not what this is about. Lana. I care about you, you know? And about Olivia, too. I thought that would've been obvious by now. I probably don't have to tell you that my brother has feelings for you as well, do I?"

  She's flustered, but clearly not about to cave just yet. "It's nothing like that at all," she says, dismissing me. "It's just familiarity. Your brother? He's just crushing on his nurse, it's something that happens all the time actually."

  I take a step closer to her, unable to help myself. "And me? You're not my nurse. How do you explain that?"

  The fierceness in her eyes falters for just a moment. "No, but…you're just lonely, maybe."

  Another step. "Even if that were the case…I mean, isn't everyone just lonely until they aren't anymore? What about you, Lana? Are you lonely?"

  The steel is back in her eyes as she juts her thumb behind her. "That little girl in there has already had the most important man in her life come and go on a whim, without a single care. I am not about to let you or your brother convince her that you care enough about her just to disappear when she's not needed anymore. And what happens when you decide it's time to march some new supermodels or showgirls or whatever around your famous bachelor pad again? What happens then, Michael? How am I supposed to explain that to her?"

  Her words to get me because that’s not what I’m about. Joseph maybe, but not me. "What makes you think that's what I want?"

  She waves her hands around, gesturing to the penthouse. "Please. What else do men like you and your brother want?"

  I don't bother making the case that maybe my brother and I aren't so bad after all. I’m not here to plead our case. I fix my eyes on hers and instead tell her something that’s been eating away at me for too long. "I want you, Lana."

  She takes a few steps backward, licking her lips. Clearly, she was not expecting me an answer like that. "Well, I don't want you,” she says, but her voice is soft, faltering.

  "And I don't believe that for one damn second. You're just lying to yourself."

  Lana grits her teeth. "It doesn't matter if it's a lie or not, I'm the employee here remember? I work for you and as a nurse and that means something. There are lines that I'm not willing to cross, not for you or for your brother."

  “But you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?” My voice is husky. I’ve spent too many nights imagining doing things to Lana that will make her cheeks blush but she’s got walls up that I can’t seem to break through.

  Lana stares at me, and it’s as though she has a million words on the tip of her tongue but she can’t seem to find the words to say. She blinks and then looks toward the window.

  I shrug my shoulders, unsure of what else I can say if she won’t even go so far as to admit that. “How long can you push me away, Lana? How long can you fight the way you feel?”

  “Long enough,” she says softly, then she walks away and I’m left standing alone.

  13

  JOSEPH

  With each step that I have to take, each point of pressure, each bit of resistance I have to push against, my body grows stronger. I know pushing the boundaries probably isn't the smartest idea in the world, but I can't help myself — all I want to do is get the hell out of this bed. To be done with it, and back on my own two feet.

  The first week of physical therapy is the easiest oddly enough, mainly because I've been here before, beginning a physical therapy regimen and I'm ready to get on with it. Being in the water helps. It's less painful, less frustrating for me. So when the second week of physical therapy rolls around, I feel like someone's shoving hot darts in my lower back, the pain is so bad. I don't want to admit it to Lana, especially with how she keeps regarding me with pity in her eyes. Or maybe that's just my imagination. Lana has become more distant, and while I don't know why exactly, I try to reinforce this in my own damn brain that it's a good idea. She’s my nurse, for fuck sake, and she needs to focus on getting me better. I’m in no state to offer her anything and I keep telling myself that I can't afford to get distracted now. I should be focusing on getting better, not on how soothing her voice is or how much I notice the way her body moves.

  By the fourth week, I've been at it for over a month, my muscles strengthening, my resolve firming up. I know I can do this. I will do this.

  Staring down at the call button on my bed, I waver back and forth between needing help from Lana and getting up by myself. It's quiet in the house, I don't even think my brother�
�s here, and Olivia's probably in school. So it's just me and Lana.

  The thought stirs something inside of me, but I push it back down forcibly. Why involve her, when I can just handle this myself? Being an invalid is the most emasculating experience of my life and I hate Lana seeing me this way.

  Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and pull myself to the edge of the bed, my lower back muscles straining hard, fighting my will. Lana just gave me my pain meds about an hour ago, so I know I should be good to go, it's just a matter of actually moving.

  I slowly lower my legs to the floor, wincing as my feet bear some of the light weight of my thighs. It's amazing just how much you don't realize that you rely on your legs and feet to hold the rest of your frame up. I stretch my toes out, wondering if it's a good idea to maybe try one of those therapy moves before I get up, but the truth is that I have to fucking pee, so might as well get it over with. Chances are I might not even make it all away before I end up pissing myself, and the very last thing I want is Lana being here to witness something like that.

  "Fuck," I groan softly to myself as I slowly put more weight on to my feet, slipping to the very edge of the bed until most of my ass is off of it. I'm hunched over, and I know that the moment I straighten up is one of the problems.

  Grabbing hold of the rail on the bed, I slowly slide my feet forward. Part of me wishes I would've pulled the socks off so I’m not slipping and sliding everywhere, a thought that makes my back muscles clench up even tighter.

  Everything in my body is already exhausted, sore from just this little bit of movement, but I don't care. I make my way across the room to where the bathroom is, breathing in deeply through my nose and letting it out through my mouth. I keep it steady somehow, managing to hold myself up enough to pull out my cock and handle my business, albeit leaning up against the wall.