Power Play - A MFMMM Reverse Harem Billionaire Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 6)

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Power Play - A MFMMM Reverse Harem Billionaire Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 6) Page 3

by Layla Valentine


  I found Laura by the punch, double-checked with her, and then said my goodbyes. So sorry, must dash, been working late you know, my friends are insisting, etc.

  By the time I reached the docks, the band of frustration that had been squeezing my chest had eased up. I was finally going to relax. I was going to have some fun. I double-checked myself in the mirror. My hair could do with some rumpling. I looked way too formal. Suit was fine, I’d packed my bathing suit and could change on the yacht. Shaved that morning. Yup, all good.

  I grinned to myself. These little parties had started out as a whim. Then Jason had all but begged me to make it a regular thing. So here we were, three years and a dozen parties in, and no end in sight.

  When I climbed out of the car, I saw that Jason had been joined by not only the twins, but the two other guys I’d invited along. Tim was just in town for a couple of weeks handling a merger between his company and another, and when he’d made friends with Jason, we’d decided to make his stay in Santa Barbara special. Michael was a huge real estate investor. He had been to the last party and since I was so busy this time around, he’d handled inviting the girls.

  It was the twins and Jason I was most excited to see, though. Tim and Michael were good guys. I liked them. But the twins, Cody and Cameron, they were the ones I’d flown across the ocean to see last summer. And Jason had been my best friend since we were in diapers. These three were ride and die, and I realized with a kind of sad twinge in my heart that it’d been too long since I’d just relaxed and shot the breeze with them.

  “Look at you!” Jason said. He came up and gave me a hug, holding me tightly for a second before pulling back and frowning. “No offense, man, but you look like you could use a drink.”

  “Or five,” Cody piped up.

  Full disclosure: I still had no idea who was Cody and who was Cameron unless I had help. They were identical twins, blue-eyed with perpetual five o’clock shadows and soft hair that was brown (if you asked Cody) or dark blond (if you asked Cameron). The women at our parties would sometimes claim they could tell the difference. I called bullshit on that. If I couldn’t tell after knowing them for years, then how the hell could anyone else?

  It didn’t help that they liked to do things at the same time just to throw you off. Like right now, when they both had sly grins on their faces.

  Luckily for my sanity, the twins tended to wear different colors so that people could tell them apart; unless they were purposefully pranking someone, Cody wore cool colors and Cameron wore warm ones. That meant the guy with the blue tie who’d said I needed five drinks was Cody, and the one in the red tie was Cameron.

  “I know what he really needs,” Cameron said, winking at me.

  Jason threw an arm around my shoulders and led me to the others. “Gentlemen, it is nine o’clock! Our night can officially begin!”

  I grinned, hoping I looked more enthusiastic than I felt. That restless feeling was still inside of me, even though the frustration over the party and work had faded. “Shall we?”

  We all piled onto the boat. The Avalon was my pride and joy, and I enjoyed spending time on her even when I wasn’t hosting these parties. There were times when I would even take her out just by myself and spend the day out in the water.

  “You all right, Liam?” Jason asked me. He was a couple inches taller than I was, so I had to look up into his face. “Being thirty isn’t weighing on you, is it?”

  I shook my head. Maybe it was being thirty, but I didn’t know for certain. I wasn’t going to admit anything to Jason until I knew for sure what this odd, bored feeling was.

  “Maybe I just need a drink,” I said.

  Jason signaled to the bartender, Owen, the only member of staff who’d been with us since the beginning. He was a good guy and we all trusted him to keep quiet about the parties and make sure none of us got alcohol poisoning.

  Owen passed us both drinks and Jason clinked ours together. “I can tell that you’re in a funk, Liam,” he told me. “If it’s being thirty, warn me so I’m prepared when my turn comes in two years.” He grinned. “Old man.”

  “Hardy har-har,” I said. I turned to look as the first of our lovely guests arrived. “How many invitations did you and Michael send out?”

  “Two dozen.” Jason’s voice was filled with anticipation. His dark eyes surveyed the women as they started to board the ship, all of them dressed in cocktail dresses just shy of utterly scandalous. “All hand-picked.”

  The way the night worked was simple: Jason and I—or in this case, Jason and Michael—would pick twenty-something women from a long list of gorgeous models, singers, dancers and actresses. Sometimes we’d even find someone who wasn’t any of those things, but was beautiful enough to be one, and we’d invite her along as well.

  Each woman was told the terms beforehand. There would be no cameras or recording devices of any kind. All cellphones were to be turned in upon boarding and would be returned the next morning when we pulled into port. The girls were welcome to check the yacht itself to prove we didn’t have any hidden recording devices, and they had to sign an NDA so they couldn’t talk about what had gone on. Everything was consensual, and if at any point a girl decided she no longer wanted to participate, there were private rooms below deck where she could spend the rest of the night by herself, undisturbed.

  We tried not to invite too many of the same people, both to keep people from getting bored and to keep anyone from noticing a particular starlet visiting Santa Barbara every three months and making something of it. Of the women boarding the yacht, I saw about four of them that I recognized from previous parties. But even though I only knew the rest by name or face or not at all, I still felt kind of lackluster.

  Where was my enthusiasm? These parties used to be the highlight of my quarter. Twelve or more hours of marathon sex with the world’s most beautiful women. What guy wasn’t up for that?

  Maybe we needed to get some fresh meat on board. And I didn’t mean new models or actresses—I’d met enough of them to last a lifetime.

  We tended to avoid any women that we might work with in the future, to avoid conflict of interest. That meant the corporate world was out. But why not look elsewhere? Beauty was everywhere. Maybe there were some baristas or something out there, someone other than the usual entertainment professionals, that we could bring on board. Maybe that would help with this strange monotony that I was feeling.

  Jason had turned back to me again, and I could tell that he was still worried. I cleared my throat and downed my drink. Perhaps we did need to shake things up, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t have a good time tonight. We always asked the women frank questions about their experience and preferences beforehand so that we could be prepared to give them a good time. They were practically gift wrapped for me.

  I just had to get a couple of drinks in, and then I’d enjoy myself.

  Chapter 3

  Gabrielle

  Kelsie hadn’t been kidding about the ride being uncomfortable.

  By the time we’d got onto the yacht from the speedboat, my legs had fallen asleep. The moment I tried to stand up, my knees screamed in pain. My arms weren’t much better.

  And I’d thought I’d known what being cramped was. Ugh.

  I slipped out when nobody was looking and Kelsie directed me to a bathroom where I could freshen up.

  To my surprise, I didn’t look too bad. My dress needed to be smoothed out a bit and I had to touch up my hair, but you couldn’t tell I’d just been hiding underneath the table linens.

  I ran my hands over my cocktail dress. It was the only one I had, black with a flouncy skirt. It was made of crushed velvet. It had felt impossibly soft to the touch when I’d first tried it on, and I’d known it was a splurge, but…I’d needed just one nice dress.

  I looked over my shoulder. The dress was short enough that it just barely covered my ass. It was practically backless, and the shoulder straps were wide, baring my front as well. The neckline plunged down in
between my breasts. In short, it was pretty damn daring. But I hadn’t brought a bathing suit or nice lingerie and I had to fit in.

  The part that was making me nervous? My boots.

  They were thigh-highs, black leather that laced up the front. Kelsie had gotten them for me as a birthday present last year. She’d said something about twenty-five being old enough for me to grow some damn confidence. Staring at myself now, I wasn’t so sure. I hadn’t worn these boots until tonight. What if I tripped and fell on my face?

  I tried pacing around the bathroom a few times. The heels were thick and chunky, thank God. I could balance if I remembered to take small steps.

  “You can do this,” I whispered to myself. College wasn’t too long ago. I’d done pretty well at parties. I just had to remember to be Work Gabrielle. Work Gabrielle was charming, vivacious, and determined to get information. If I could set aside my fears and my common sense for just a couple of hours, I could do this.

  A soft knocking started on the door and I jumped. My heart started racing. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me!” Kelsie hissed. Her voice was quiet, but I could still tell it was her. “Can I come in?”

  I unlocked the door and opened it for her. If this was how nervous I got in the bathroom, maybe this wasn’t for me. Then I saw Kelsie’s face.

  She was dressed in a bright green dress that showed off both her shoes and her red hair. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d say she was attending the party herself. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone asked her to stay. But it was her face that made pause. I could tell by the pursing of her lips and the furrow in her brow that she thought I’d cut and run. She thought I was scared.

  I squared my shoulders. I wouldn’t be scared. I could handle a handful of strangers. I could—and I would—blend in.

  “You sure you want to go through with this?” Kelsie asked. “I’m leaving in about an hour. It’s not too late for you to back out. You can just hang with Owen, he’s the bartender, and leave when I do.”

  I shook my head. “I started this and I want to finish. And I just know I’ll beat myself up if I leave.”

  Kelsie bit her lip. “We need to get you to stop being so hard on yourself. If you’re not comfortable, you shouldn’t force yourself to stay.”

  “No way. I’m not that nervous, Kels, Jesus. I just need to remember that people like me.”

  “Of course people like you. You’re going to do fine.”

  I nodded. I still wasn’t entirely convinced. I always freaked out that I’d say the wrong thing, that I would blurt out something ridiculous and there would be these three seconds of awful silence and then I would have to slink off and contemplate never speaking to anyone ever again.

  But if I backed out now, what did that mean for my dream career? How could I possibly be expected to talk to political leaders and other movers and shakers if I couldn’t handle this party?

  No. I would handle this. I would fucking rock this.

  “I really appreciate your concern,” I told Kelsie, “But I got this. I’ll start out at the bar, though, just to ease myself in. Get a feel for things.”

  Kelsie nodded. “You can find me in the kitchen any time, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I gave her a hug and let her go back to do her job. I checked my reflection one last time, then paused, listening. I could hear music coming from up on deck. I followed it, putting an extra sway into my hips to help keep my balance in the boots.

  Time to go to work.

  Chapter 4

  Gabrielle

  Coming up the steps and out onto the deck, I almost froze at the sight in front of me.

  If anyone was unsure as to whether the owner of a yacht could be anything other than filthy rich, their doubts would disappear after seeing this deck. There was a huge Jacuzzi, a pool, and several large couches upholstered in white. Inside, I could see several colored chandeliers throwing light around, and a bar that looked like it’d been plucked straight out of the 1920s. There was even a raised area with some stripper poles.

  Music thrummed through the entire deck. I could feel it in the floor underneath me, a constant vibration. Staff dressed either in lovely cocktail dresses or fancy suits moved between the guests, offering hors d’oeuvres. The other guests were wearing similar dresses to mine, but I could tell their clothes had cost a lot more. The women wore jewelry that sparkled and probably cost more than my year’s rent.

  It was all so lavish. I looked around, trying to commit each detail to memory. I had to remember all of this for later.

  So far, nobody was doing anything too scandalous. I could make out five men and about two dozen women, although it was hard to tell who was who with all of the staff as well. One man had a woman in his lap, while two other women were getting a bit touchy in the Jacuzzi. I saw another man feeding a woman food the server had brought. It wasn’t enough to be called sexual, I’d say. More just sensual, touching when there was no need, lingering looks and close contact.

  They were holding back because of the staff, I remembered. No doubt the real crazy stuff would begin once Kelsie and her crew left.

  The thought made me nervous. I turned and quickly walked to the bar before anyone could grab me. I had to blend in, I remembered. A drink or two would help me do that and settle my nerves as well.

  I saw a smiling man behind the bar. That must have been Owen. A handsome, well-built guy with soft brown eyes. I waved at him and he walked over so I could order.

  “And how much will that be?” I asked.

  Owen blinked at me. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “How much for the drink?”

  Owen shook his head. “Um, you don’t have to pay, miss. It’s an open bar.”

  I stared at him for a moment and then realized my mistake. Of course it was an open bar. How could you enjoy a night of debauchery if you were worried about how much your martini cost? I could have kicked myself.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, smiling at him. “I’ll still take the drink.”

  Owen shrugged and started mixing my drink. While I waited, I turned and looked back over the crowd. The women here were all stunning. I tried not to feel out of place myself. I was no model, that was for certain. One of them came up to order a drink, a tall blonde, and I had to struggle to keep from staring.

  Unfortunately, she noticed. Because that was my life.

  To my surprise, she just smiled at me and leaned in a little. “Like what you see?”

  I gaped at her. “I’m sorry?”

  The woman laughed and put her hand over mine. “If you do, be sure to find me later.” She winked at me and then walked off with her drink.

  I found myself still gaping a little. Was that…? Had she just…? Wow. People really were upfront at this party. Nothing coy about that at all.

  My idiotic face must not have gone unnoticed, because I looked up in time to lock eyes with one of the men. A shiver worked its way up through my entire body. He was the kind tan that only came from spending hours in the sun, and the tailoring of his shirt and pants showed off a toned, tight body. He had sandy blond hair that looked soft enough to run my fingers through and his piercing green eyes…were staring right at me.

  I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. He looked like he wanted to devour me and I could feel myself starting to get wet, just from his stare.

  Then, to my excitement and horror, he got up and started walking over to me.

  Stalking was more like it. I felt like prey, caught in his gaze as he made his way to stand right in front of me. He was almost between my legs, and I had to cross them to try and relieve some of the pressure building inside of me. I hadn’t seen a guy this hot in years, certainly not up close.

  He leaned against the bar and held out his other hand for me to shake. “You must be the new girl that Walter invited.”

  I shook his hand automatically, and then what he said caught up with me. I had no clue who Walter was, but this was my best chance of playing a
long. “Yes, I spoke to Walter.”

  “Normally I personally invite who gets to go on my yacht, but…” the guy shrugged, “I’ve been a little swamped at work lately. I’m glad you could make it.”

  My mouth went dry. This was the owner of the yacht. This was the host. He’d be my main source of information. These parties were his idea, after all.

  “I appreciate you having me, Mr. Myer,” I said, smiling.

  The guy laughed, and I was glad that I’d gotten his name right. “Please, call me Liam. I much prefer when people say my first name in bed.” He winked at me and I swallowed hard. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? To say it was distracting was an understatement.

  “And what’s your name, beautiful?” he asked me. His fingers started lightly trailing up the skin of my arm. My thighs clenched instinctively at the contact and I struggled to concentrate past the light, teasing touch.

  “Gabi,” I said, thinking it best to stick close to the truth. No one ever called me Gabi. I preferred my full name, or ‘Gabs’ if you were Kelsie. I’d have to remember to respond to that when he used my name. Keeping track of my lies would mean the difference between selling this and being caught.

  “Gabi,” Liam repeated, his voice low and rumbling. The name sounded almost sinful when he said it like that. “I like it.”

  I blushed a little, then even more as he withdrew his hand from my arm and placed it on my knee instead. His thumb rubbed slow circles into my skin and I shivered. “So, Gabi,” he said, his voice dipping even lower. “Walter showed me your list of skills.”

  I hummed in response, wondering what might be on such a list. Nothing like juggling, that was for certain. Liam’s fingers played with the hem of my dress.

  “He was right about the gorgeous legs,” Liam noted, then spread his fingers and slid his leg higher up my thigh, his hand spanning it. Oh God, his hand was large. I trembled as the image flashed through my mind of how deep those fingers could get inside of me.

 

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