The Billionaires--A Lover's Triangle Novel

by Calista Fox

  “That’s because Jonathan plans everything. He probably schedules time in his calendar for when he should take a piss or pop the top on a Mountain Dew.”

  She’d laughed softly. “Funny. But having an agenda for first-time sex? Seems too premeditated for such a special occasion. I’m not saying break out the rose petals and violins, but still. Choreographing every move to be made seems … anti-climactic. Definitely unromantic.”

  Vin had scoffed. “It doesn’t always have to be romantic.”

  “Sure it does,” she’d insisted. Then asked, “What should I tell her about the condoms?”

  “You and Rogen have had sex, right?”

  “Of course.” She’d put down her phone and sat up. “He didn’t tell you?”

  Eyes glued to the page he was reading, Vin had absently said, “Not something I’ve ever wanted to discuss with him. And he likes to keep things like that to himself.”

  “True.”

  “So you two don’t use condoms?”

  “Didn’t is the proper tense.” Her heart had wrenched when she’d confessed, “It’s been a long time. I haven’t seen him in eight months, you know?”

  “Fine. You didn’t use protection?”

  “I’ve been on the pill since I was sixteen. And given that neither of us had ever been with anyone else, it didn’t exactly seem necessary to raid the stash at the local convenience store. Besides, I liked … Never mind.”

  “What?” he’d asked, sounding slightly exasperated with the topic of conversation. Had remained somewhat engrossed in his novel.

  “I liked how it felt when he came inside me.”

  Vin had let out a strange grunt. Not exactly a condemnation. More like … she’d finally intrigued him.

  “Anyway. I’m guessing since you can’t answer my question,” she’d goaded, “you still haven’t had sex. I mean, I rarely ever see you with a girl other than me.”

  “I’ve done it plenty of times, Jewel.”

  “With who?” she’d demanded.

  He spared a glance her way and his grin dripped wickedness. “Shayla Harding.”

  “What?!” She’d ripped the book from his hand and glared. “You are such a liar!”

  Shayla Harding was a popular wine-country artist with long brown hair and—reportedly—surgically enhanced breasts.

  Vin had given Jewel a smug look. He’d known from the age of seven that he was a handsome devil, and didn’t hide that he was perfectly aware of the fact.

  “Shayla taught me everything I know. And, trust me, I know a lot.”

  He’d winked.

  She’d gaped.

  With a chuckle, Vin had added, “A very hot divorcée. No need to say more.”

  “Except that she’s, like, twenty-five. Or thirty.”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “Vin! That’s way too old for you!”

  He’d sighed. “Yeah. That’s why she called it off.”

  “Oh, my God.” Jewel had stared again, for endless seconds. Had then snickered. “You’re bullshitting me. Shayla would never—”

  “Ah, but she did.” He’d crooked a brow at Jewel and asked, “How many positions have you and Rogen tried? Two?”

  “None of your business.” She’d scowled. Then: “He really hasn’t told you?”

  “He’s not one for sharing juicy details.”

  “But we all know that you are. So exactly how did you and Mrs. Robinson hook up?”

  “Ha-ha.” He’d sat up and moved in close, pinning Jewel with a burning look. “Isn’t the question you’re really dying to ask me more along the lines of exactly how many different positions are there?”

  Excitement had shot through her, headed straight to her clit. “I don’t need to know that.”

  His gaze had dropped to her slightly parted, glossy lips. Then his emerald eyes had met hers again. They’d blazed. “Sure you do.”

  She’d swatted playfully at him to break the sudden sexual tension. “Perv.”

  “Give me my book.”

  “Tell me what to e-mail Bay and you can have it back.”

  He’d given her his bad-boy smirk. “You don’t get to make ultimatums.”

  “Why not?” she’d challenged.

  “Because I’m bigger than you. Stronger than you. Older than you now, too. And I happen to know that you’re ticklish.” He’d reached for her.

  “Vin!” she’d squealed. “Don’t you dare!”

  They’d wrestled a little, laughing heartily. And then Vin had grabbed her around the waist and hauled her over his body and onto her back on the other side of him, her legs draped across his thighs as he lay on his hip facing her, leaning over her.

  The laughter had instantly died on the vine. To be replaced with an electric current arcing between them as they’d both breathed heavily. Stared into each other’s eyes.

  “Not only have you not seen Rogen in eight months,” Vin had said, “but you two hardly talk anymore. Does that mean you’re broken up?”

  “I don’t know,” she’d admitted, her chest rising and falling quickly as heat had rimmed Vin’s glowing irises. “I kind of think so. Since he’s going off to Yale after he graduates from Trinity. And I’m not smart enough to get in.”

  “You’re plenty smart,” Vin had said. Then he’d kissed her. Not in the soft, sweet way Rogen always had, which started tender and turned into something deeper, soul stirring.

  No, Vin’s kiss had been hot and searing and downright lethal. Passionate. Erotic.

  Precisely how he’d taken her that day.…

  Naturally, having experienced what both men had to offer, Jewel could understand why they were allegedly so good at satisfying a woman when they were both with her. And Jewel couldn’t deny that had Vin stepped in when she’d been with Rogen at his house earlier in the evening it would have made for one scorching encounter. Not that she really comprehended how that would fully work out—or what impact it would have on their relationships.

  Definitely a repercussion to be wary of—they’d suffered enough already, and the bonds were still tenuous in many respects.

  In addition, if word got around the inner circle Jewel would have to face the consequences of being a woman who let two men pleasure her at the same time. How would that affect her reputation? What if the rumor spread to her parents? To the Angelini estate? To her colleagues at work?

  There were plenty of concerns to take into consideration, beyond the mechanics of a sexual threesome.

  Yet … Jewel suspected the combination of Rogen’s intense lovemaking and Vin’s aggressive fucking would be explosive. She could imagine their hands and mouths on her body. Could hear in her mind the men’s sexy groans, her throaty moans—all mingled together. Could envision Vin taking her in the way he preferred, anally, while Rogen’s thick cock pumped steadily deep in her pussy.

  She knew so little about ménages. But suddenly craved one with Rogen and Vin.

  So much so, the fantasy of seducing them into agreeing to share her began to weave in Jewel’s mind, despite all of the reasons it was a dangerous idea that she’d just mentally ticked off.

  She wanted them both. No sense in denying it.

  * * *

  In the morning, Jewel joined her parents on the east patio.

  It wasn’t easy putting her fantasy on the back burner but absolutely necessary. She had important business to tend to now.

  “Mother.” She dropped a kiss on Sophia Catalano’s cheek, then rounded the glass-topped table to where her father sat, reading the paper. “Daddy.” Another peck. “How was your trip?”

  “Successful,” he said. “The Everton Lodge in Aspen is now part of our real estate portfolio.”

  “Congratulations. I have good news as well.” She took her seat across from them and tried to contain her enthusiasm. Her meeting with Gian Angelini and her night with Rogen had her exhilarated—and ravenous. When the buffet attendant, Stella, approached the table, Jewel told her, “Load me up, please.”

&n
bsp; Jewel’s fit and trim mother eyed her curiously. Sophia, a tall, striking brunette with sculpted brows and tight, dewy skin, ate only grapefruit for breakfast and worked out with a personal trainer. Never went a day without time on her elliptical machine.

  “I’ll spend an extra hour on the tennis courts with you today,” Jewel promised her mother. “I skipped dinner last night.”

  “Calories have never been my concern when it comes to you, darling,” her mother said adoringly. “It’s just that you typically don’t favor breakfast.”

  “Yes, well, I’m pretty excited this morning, so eggs Benedict, southwestern potatoes, and sausage sounds fabulous.” She sipped the coffee Stella delivered for her.

  The exchange seemed to pique her father’s interest. He folded over the USA Today and set it aside. Anthony was a handsome man with an athletic build and sandy-brown hair. Eyes a rich midnight-blue color. “Care to tell us what’s got you so worked up? You don’t come to River Cross often. Does your visit have something to do with the Angelinis’ party?”

  “As a matter of fact, it does.” Jewel dug into her food, momentarily leaving her parents in suspense. She washed down a large bite with orange juice and then announced, “I struck a deal with Mr. Angelini for the property you jointly own with him.”

  Sophia’s jaw slacked and her peridot eyes popped.

  Anthony speared Jewel with a sharp look and said, “Surely you’re mistaken.”

  “No.” Perhaps her smile was a bit smug. She said, “Bayli and Scarlet came through once again on their hunting mission. They located something Mr. Angelini had once waxed poetic about when you two were business partners. Something he hasn’t been able to procure. But I can get it for him, with a little help from my friends.”

  Her parents were well versed in her high-end bartering system. While her father would prefer—in his own words—to just write the damn check for his transactions, Jewel held fast to the power of her unicorn theory. It was certainly panning out in this instance.

  Slowly recovering, her mother said, “We’ve made numerous offers to Gian and Rose-Marie. They haven’t entertained a single one, despite it being fruitless to hold on to land they can’t do anything with unless they receive our consent.”

  Jewel told her parents, “Bay researched a decanter of scotch I told her about, and the owner of it lives in Paris. I visited him while I was working on my Avenue des Lamond deal. He wants something other than money—and Scarlet also tracked down those possessions. It’s a little tricky, I’ll admit. But Mr. Angelini gave me his word that if I can get him the scotch he’d accept my cash offer and sell his portion of the property to us. So … surprise!”

  Jewel’s heart thumped a bit fast, because it was a mishmash of wily deals. But she had to believe the incongruent pieces would all fall into place.

  “I’m impressed,” her father said. “Though you realize Gian will never follow through. He’ll find a way to keep the scotch and the land.” Anthony picked up his paper and went back to reading.

  Jewel’s stomach plummeted. She pushed her plate aside. It really wasn’t like her father to give up so quickly.

  Then again, he knew Gian better than Jewel ever would.

  “Now, Jewel,” her mother said, patting Jewel’s hand. “You know how proud your father is of your acquisitions. But this is Gian Angelini you’re talking about. He’ll do anything to twist the knife, even if it means baiting you and walking away with all the cards still in his hand.”

  Frustration tore through her. So, too, did the burning desire to prove her parents wrong. Because she’d executed some amazing transactions in her six years at CE, with men as powerful as Gian Angelini. Sure, she’d learned a few painful lessons along the way. Not every contract had been signed. Not every “original” treasure had been acceptably authenticated by her specialists. Yet she still had a fantastic track record to give her the confidence that she could pull off this deal with Gian.

  She lifted her chin a notch and asked, “If I can make this happen, would you two deed the property to me? Outside of the living trust?”

  The paper crinkled as her father returned it to the table. “What’s your sudden interest in that land?”

  “It’s not so sudden. Just something that seemed too far out of my reach to attempt. Then the girls found the scotch for me, and now I want to pursue this.”

  In an uncharacteristically tight tone, her mother asked, “What would you do with all that acreage, Jewel?”

  “I want to build an inn. A big, beautiful inn, with event lawns for weddings and parties. And an award-winning golf course. I’ve already made inquiries with Jack Nicklaus’s people. In fact, I took all the specs on the land that you collected, Daddy, and gave them to an architectural firm I selected to design the inn.”

  “Jewel,” her mother said on a long, dramatic breath. Much more her custom. “You’re creating a dream around property you’ll never own. Gian won’t—”

  “Perhaps he won’t follow through,” Jewel’s father repeated. Then added, “But if he does … if you can reach terms with him, Jewel, that land is yours. All yours.”

  Now her heart launched into her throat. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She could see from her father’s steely gaze that he wasn’t humoring her. He’d always admired her verve, and Jewel knew she’d impressed him with this latest ambition. Enough so that he’d reward her greatly if she succeeded.

  Well, that—and he likely relished the idea of severing the last tie with the Angelinis.

  Jewel didn’t want that to be the end result. Rather, she hoped her plans would bridge the gap between the Catalanos and the Angelinis. But that was a whole missing piece to the puzzle that she had to work on. After she’d gotten her hands on that land.

  Jumping up from the table, she kissed her mother again, then her father. “Thanks, Daddy. You won’t be disappointed.”

  * * *

  Vin was in a shitty mood as he turned into the bustling parking lot of Bristol’s on the opposite end of the aisle that Jewel’s sparkling, powder-blue convertible BMW entered at the same time. They both spotted the SUV backing out of the spot—the only one available on this side of the building. She switched on her turn signal. Vin ignored it. The SUV blocked her, and Vin pulled into the coveted space.

  Jewel whaled on the horn. He glanced at her over his shoulder, out of the side of his convertible Maserati, and grinned. She flipped him off.

  With a chuckle, he killed the engine and climbed out. She drove off and rounded the facility in search of another spot. He waited for her at the main door.

  When she eventually stalked toward him, looking hotter than hell with blistering irritation and wearing a lavender strapless minidress, she said, “Didn’t you see my blinker?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  She scowled. “And God forbid you’d do the manly thing and let me have the space.”

  “I don’t exactly consider that manly. Gallant, sure. But that’s not really up my alley, is it? That’s more Rogen’s thing.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “You’re getting a kick out of antagonizing me.”

  “Who slapped who?” he countered.

  “And who was spying on who?” she demanded, not backing down. One of the many things he’d always loved about her.

  He said, “I wasn’t spying. I was looking for Rogen, because he’d disappeared and there were some people who wanted to talk business with him. I didn’t actually believe he’d be making love to you within an hour of you crashing the party. By the way”—he leaned in close as an elderly couple exited the restaurant, and whispered in her ear—“you scream my name much louder when I make you come.”

  She glared at him. But Vin didn’t miss the wicked flash in her sapphire eyes.

  She could be pissed to high heaven at him. She still wanted him.

  He knew it, because he’d read the signs on her face and in her gaze a million times before. And felt exactly the same.

  Yes, he’d been upset that their reun
ion had been a volatile one at the gala. He’d been annoyed and frustrated that she’d ended up with Rogen that night. Not just because she hadn’t even given Vin a chance, but because she always, always went back to Rogen.

  Which was why Vin was in such a shitty mood.

  Jewel was too feisty to let him win, though. She said, “I’m sure the redhead screamed plenty loud.”

  His jaw clenched briefly.

  Vin had no idea what possessed him, but he admitted, “It was just a blow job in my office. I took her home after I saw you. Kissed her on the cheek and returned to the mansion.”

  “Yeah, right,” Jewel scoffed as she headed toward the door, which Vin yanked open for her. She preceded him; he enjoyed the view. The sassy sway of her hips, those long, sleek legs. An ass he wanted to fuck. She added, “Is that because Rogen wasn’t there to help you heat things up?”

  Vin’s gut twisted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied.

  She knew?

  How?

  Jewel said, “For the record, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck.”

  “I never really did understand that saying,” he muttered as he followed her into the busy Saltillo-tiled entryway.

  She tossed a sassy look over her shoulder and boldly informed him, “I’ve heard it murmured here and there that you both like to be in on the same action. Not necessarily separately.” Her gaze remained on him a moment more, as though challenging him to deny it.

  Vin merely smirked.

  She kept strutting through the entryway. Vin’s groin tightened as he suddenly thought of Jewel naked and sprawled across his bed. She’d been willing to let him experiment years ago. Not establishing any limitations. Getting off on everything he did to her.

  Sure, she’d had some insecurities, some uncertainty, when he’d gotten particularly daring. But the chemistry between them had sizzled to the point of distracting her from her inhibitions.

  God, how he’d loved making her come.

  So, too, did Rogen.