by Opal Carew
With that done, they raised a small cup and toasted to Mac with a quiet but lusty, “Kanpai!”
Landon’s gaze remained glued to Jay’s handsome face—yes, he could admit the man was good looking—keenly aware of the emotions that washed through the other man. If he was reading him correctly, Landon needed to get this deal done for Jay’s peace of mind. If his shell-shocked-but-happy-yet-anxious expression was any indication, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Thankfully, there was no shoe.
“Now,” Landon said as he stood. “Let’s go get our woman.” He extended his hand to their new ‘third’, shook it firmly and watched Jay smile, truly smile, for the first time tonight.
* * *
At the appointed time, Mac sat in the Bamboo Room alone. She literally twiddled her thumbs while tapping the toe of a high-heeled boot with an annoyed cadence. Funny thing was…she wasn’t annoyed. She was nervous.
It was a giddy kind of feeling rather than one of concern. She knew that Jay would accept their offer. Knew it down to her toes. But it didn’t change the fact that this was something new, fantastic and wonderful.
It was like a kid waiting to open presents at Christmas. A kid who kept checking the clock to see if it was time to get up yet so she could rush downstairs and start ripping open the various goodies awaiting her.
And this room contained zilch to keep her mind occupied as she waited for her two pieces of yum to arrive. There was absolutely nothing in here but a huge beanbag-like chair literally big enough for five people. The floor and walls were finely pressed bamboo, and the door was made of hundreds of super-thin bamboo reeds lashed together. Hence the name, the Bamboo Room.
Eyes closed, she imagined Landon and Jay standing before her, both tall, dark and handsome. Both with green eyes that seemed to peer right through her, body and soul. Where Landon’s upper body was wide and muscular, Jay’s was sleek with a runner’s build. Both had hair, black as sin and both had eyes of jade and emerald. And both loved her to no end.
And Mac was a trembling mess by the time her men joined her.
She looked up and saw both of them had hands extended to help her up off the oversized oval beanbag sac that could serve as a couch or a bed.
She stood and accepted a small cup of sake as Landon explained.
“We’ve had a thorough conversation about how we think this will work. And in celebration of Jay joining our little posse, we brought you a bit o’ sake to toast with.
Mac just stood there, looking back and forth between them.
When she didn’t take the little ceramic cup, Landon looked down at the sake in his hand and back at his wife’s face.
“Mac, you okay with this?”
“I…” She reached out and retrieved the little porcelain cup with the potent clear brew from his hands. “Yes. I’m okay with it. I’m just…overwhelmed.”
Jay’s face tightened.
“It’s a good thing, both of you. I’m not overwhelmed like I want to run away from home or something. I’m just…I never thought this would play out this way. And I’m happy as shit.”
One of her men smiled as if he expected nothing less. The other sighed with relief, then burst out laughing as if he were the happiest man on Earth. Which made her even giddier.
“Toast?” Landon asked.
“Absolutely,” Mac replied and raised her glass and waited for Landon to pour a bit for himself and Jay.
All three cheered, “Kanpai!” and downed their sake in one swift shot.
“And now, to truly celebrate, I think a bit of naughty is in order. No holds barred, Mac. No limits on affection.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Sure the two of them had discussed the “all in” solution he felt would serve them all best. But again, she’d never hoped for such a thing. Letting Jay go had been a difficult, but necessary, choice. He’d been nothing but good to her, understanding, caring. Oh, the man was just as alpha as Landon, but his needs were different, more subtle. He could be a real handful, but it had always been a challenge that she’d savored and cherished. She’d been satisfied with their previous arrangement because it was best at the time.
But now that Jay was here and back in her life, their lives, losing him wasn’t something she wanted to experience again.
However, there was more to this than what she wanted. She wasn’t a one-some. She was part of a couple-turning-triad. So, it was her turn to ask Landon if he was sure just one more time.
Her husband’s answer was to step to her without hesitation and pull her into his arms. “Woman, I am in this for the win. And to be honest, you could do worse than having two men who love you more than all the world.”
With that, he lowered his head and kissed her silly. Not giving her a chance to do anything but feel, Landon began and held the power of that kiss even as he began to set up what would follow.
It began with a simple order to Jay to remove her boots as Landon continued to hold her tight, plunder her mouth and taste her deeply. He kissed her until she was almost out of breath. When he released her, she had no time to pant as he took her mouth again, and again.
Feet bare, she giggled as Jay massaged her toes. Her chuckle became a moan as he moved his fingers into her arch and pressed gently before applying the same delicious pressure from calves to thighs to the under-curve of her backside.
Jay’s touch was familiar and comfortable, like her favorite pair of slippers or the silk robe she always wore around the house—soft and comfortable.
But not enough.
Between the kisses and touches, and the realization that these two men were both hers, Mac was soon flying towards a need so great it made her scalp tingle.
She threw her head back and cried out when Landon’s teeth nipped the tendon that connected neck to shoulder.
“More! Please!”
“Well, Jay,” Landon growled with that little touch of evil that always raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “You heard the lady. More.”
Clothes went flying until they painted the room in a myriad of fabrics and colors. Shoes thudded as they were kicked off, and even a few rips were heard here and there.
Yes!
She was wet and ready and so eager she was almost angry with it. Her world was on fire and these were the two men who could see to putting that damn thing out!
And they were ready to oblige her. Who said quickies were only for morning time? Nobody, that’s who!
Jay lay on the big cushiony oval and Mac assumed her favorite position—on her knees, ass up, head down…right over his face.
Jay lapped at her tender folds, while Landon wasted no time feeding his generous cock deep into her ready channel. In not time, she needed to come badly, yet her men pushed her up, up and up only to let her hang there to contemplate life or some shit.
Just as she was about to threaten castration, Jay suckled her clit with a fierce rhythm. Landon pistoned into her sex and slipped just the tip of a single digit into her rear passage.
“Oh my god!” Mac fell from the precipice, tumbled head over heels with an orgasm so powerful, she didn’t think she would ever touch bottom.
Breathing like a winded racehorse, Mac stilled to let her heart and lungs catch up to her endorphin-laced brain.
God bless sex hormones, husbands and mates, she thought happily.
“Don’t leave him in agony, Mac. Help Jay come.” Landon’s words reached her from far, far away. When they finally registered, she instantly obeyed as Jay got to his knees in front of her. Still in a haze of completion, she heard herself moan as the tang of his unique flavor registered in her brain seconds after it touched her tongue.
The scent of their skin, sweat, and the remnants of expensive cologne, filled her nostrils and settled deep inside.
She swirled her tongue around the tip, then let Landon’s rhythm move her back and forth to take Jay deeper down her throat. The man’s head was thrown back, teeth bared like some wild thing racing for re
lease.
The next time she looked up, her lovers’ gazes were locked on one another, as if some secret understanding passed between then.
And as one, they flew apart at the seams, called her name as one released down her throat, and the other deep in her womb.
Spent and satisfied then fell over together. Mac leaned down, grabbed the light cotton throw laid across the bottom of the bed and settled it over them all. With a satisfied sigh, they lay in a sweaty cuddle puddle on the huge oval cushion.
Mac yawned and snuggled in, so relaxed and happy, even a new pair of kick ass suede stilettos with the red soles couldn’t compare. Landon’s hard muscular thighs, slick with sweat, pressed against hers. Perfectly formed pecs were heavenly against her upper spine. Strong arms encompassed her body, held her close. Safe. Secure.
She reached out, pulled a languid Jay into her body and curled herself around him.
Was there anything more decadent than laying spoon fashion with a strong man at her back, while another equally strong male trusted her enough to expose himself completely and let her cover his back as his dominant?
Not likely.
After several moments of companionable silence, questions began to tumble through Mac’s mind.
“Jay, when will we see you again? Have you considered moving back here?” Mac asked on a sleepy yawn as she snuggled in.
“Actually, I have. I never sold my house here. Always held out hope that one day I’d make it back to Seattle. But now I can’t think of a better reason to move back to town than the woman laying right here in my arms.
Mac ducked her head and blinked back tears, grateful to her men who’d made all of this possible.
Then she bolted upright, dragging the throw with her to cover her bare breasts.
“But what about your client in Montana? What about your work? I don’t expect you to…”
Jay sat up, smoothed an errant loc behind her ear and rocked her world. Again.
“I can work anywhere, Mac. As for Montana, I’ll see that project through, wrap it up and then skip town. So, yes, I’m moving back here.”
Landon laughed as Mac squealed, then threw her arms, legs and everything in between against Jay as she took him back down to the sheets.
After round two, she lay there between two luscious men. MacKenzie Ivers considered all that she’d been through over the last two years, even the rough cut of the last few days, and wondered at how things had worked out in the end.
She decided on a simple truth—she was, indeed, one hell of a lucky woman.
# # #
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About the T.J. Michaels
TJ is an award-winning author of several romance genres, including paranormal, fantasy, sci-fi and urban fantasy romance. Writing like a madman, TJ hasn’t lost steam. Her mind? Yep, that’s gone, but steam there is a-plenty. A true Taurus, TJ isn’t slowing down and she’s definitely too stubborn to stop when she sees the fence! No matter the genre TJ is penning, her favorite thing to do is build worlds. To take you somewhere extraordinary. To transport you to a place where you can close your eyes and slip into your fantasy…
Other Books by Author TJ Michaels
Carinian’s Seeker, Vampire Council of Ethics Book One
Serati’s Flame, Vampire Council of Ethics Book Two
Hatsept Heat, Vampire Council of Ethics Book Three
Seeker's Solace, Vampire Council of Ethics Book Four
Silk Road, Seals of Destiny
Spirit of the Pryde, Pryde Ranch Shifters
Niah's Pride, Pryde Ranch Shifters
Pursuit of Pride and Pleasure, Pryde Ranch Shifters
Jaguar’s Rule
Forever December
Egyptian Voyage
On the Prowl
Entwined Hearts
Shards of Ecstasy
Caramel Kisses
Hide No More
Juicy, Twilight Teahouse Book One
Luscious, Twilight Teahouse Book Two
Succulent, Twilight Teahouse Book Three
One Night With My Billionaire Master
Cynthia Sax
One night. No one must know.
This is the text I sent Logan Ross this morning. The billionaire financier is my father’s number one nemesis and has been pursuing me for months. He wants to own me, completely, promising exquisite pleasure balanced by equally intense pain, vowing to dominate me, to show me wicked things a virgin like myself shouldn’t be interested in.
But I am extremely interested, and I’ll risk everything—my job, my family, my future—to experience one night of total submission with this powerful Dom.
Will one night be enough for both of us?
Copyright 2015 Cynthia Sax
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
About The Author
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Chapter One
One night. No one must know.
This is the text I sent Logan Ross, billionaire investor and my father’s most hated adversary, eleven hours ago. Fucking Logan is inevitable, I tell myself, as I stand in the crowded ballroom. He won’t stop pursuing me until he has me, and I’m tired, so damn tired, of resisting him, delaying what we both want, what we both need.
I half-heartedly listen to Benoit, my flamboyant French second-in-command, grumble about broken champagne flutes and incompetent waitstaff. Normally I’d care about these details, taking my job seriously, but I’m too wired to work tonight. All I can think about is sex and Logan, his rough hands, stern voice, intense no-bullshit gaze.
He’s been as subtle as a sledgehammer over the past seven months, standing guard over me at every event, every dinner, glaring at any man who dares to approach me, making his claim on the St. James slut, thrillingly obvious.
Logan must be aware of my reputation, everyone in our business circles knows of my mom, how I’m expected to follow in her notorious footsteps, yet he treats me with respect. Sure, he whispers scorching hot sexual fantasies into my ear, brushes his calloused fingers against my neck, shoulders, and arms, every chance he gets, but he’s never crossed the line, never made me feel like anything other than his woman.
And, sweet mother, I love it. I shiver. It’s a miracle I’ve withstood his single-minded seduction this long.
No one believes I have resisted him. Everyone thinks we’re already fucking.
I can tolerate the speculation as long as there’s doubt. My father won’t disown me without concrete proof, my half-siblings reminded of this during their last attempt to usurp my minor role in our dysfunctional family. I trust Logan to be discreet, to handle the details, to protect me.
Tonight.
Tomorrow, he’ll turn his attention to another woman. I smooth the full skirt of my black sleeveless gown, the garment chosen for its ease of access, bra and panties not required.
The thought of my billionaire standing by someone else’s side shouldn’t sadden me. I know who I am, whom everyone believes I resemble. I have my absentee mom’s blonde hair, big breasts, and long legs, and my appeal will be as fleeting, as empty. He’ll get me out of his system and move on.
At least my night with Logan shouldn’t have any deadly and long-lasting consequences, unlike my media tycoon father’s fateful night with my opportunistic mom.
My father had been so lust-struck with my free-with-her-favors mom, that he cheated on his critically ill wife. I was
conceived. My birth and the subsequent highly-contested paternity test revealed my father’s secret to the world, forcing him to give me his last name and a place in the family. That humiliation killed his wife, the woman he claims to have adored, leaving their three children without a mother.
My aggressive billionaire, in contrast, isn’t married, doesn’t have any children who would make a possible ‘oops’ baby feel unwelcome, unworthy, hated. I’m on birth control, and I suspect, with my inherited slutty reputation, he’ll use condoms.
My gaze drifts once more over the buzzing ballroom. Ladies wear long gowns in a variety of rich colors, offsetting the stark black of the men’s tuxedos. Precious gemstones glitter around the women’s necks, in their ears and hair.
My fingers close around my plain gold pendant, my sole adornment, and I’m filled with satisfaction over an event well-organized. The crème de la crème of Toronto society is attending my family’s charity gala. I recognize politicians, movie stars, the business elite. Everyone I expect to see is here.
Except Logan. I don’t spot his tall, muscular physique and distinctive ink-black hair in the crowd.
“He hasn’t yet arrived, Ari,” Benoit observes. A small smile curls his lips, illuminating his handsome face. “Believe me, I’ve been looking. That delicious man of yours fills out a tuxedo jacket nicely, and his ass?” My friend flicks his gaze toward the heavens. “Like a gift from God.”
My face heats. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I lie, knowing exactly whom he’s referring to. Logan does have a great ass and beautifully wide shoulders. “Esteban won’t appreciate you scooping other men out,” I warn. Benoit is in a committed relationship with the venue’s top-ranked chef.
“Esteban doesn’t care where I get my appetite as long as I eat at home,” he jauntily replies, as though having someone to love who returns that love is a casual accomplishment.
I don’t say anything, suppressing my envy, hiding my loneliness, my need for company.
“Are you finally banging your billionaire tonight?” Benoit returns to this embarrassing topic. “Is that why you’ve put me in charge of this fiasco?”