Four under the Mistletoe: A MFMM Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 2)

by Tia Siren

  So was the second test, and the third. I cried. I had been sexual in the last month with only the brothers. We had never had another threesome, though Brad did eventually admit it had been him the one time. He had always wanted me. He and his brother had done something similar before. Tyler had talked him into it.

  The father could have been either one of them. I found myself hoping it was Brad, but I was technically with Tyler. He didn’t know I was having sex with his brother still, so I went to him first. I told him at his apartment.

  “You’re on the pill,” Tyler said.

  “I know,” I said. “I don’t know what happened.”

  “Well, it’s fine. We can take care of it,” Tyler said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll pay—for the procedure.”

  My mouth fell open. Not having the baby had never even crossed my mind. “I’m not going to get rid of it,” I said.

  “I’m not going to be a dad,” Tyler said.

  “You are,” I argued. I felt my face growing red and my anger rising.

  “How do I know it’s mine?” Tyler said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I won’t pay for anything until we take a DNA test. I don’t know who you fuck.”

  “Do you fuck other people?”

  Tyler laughed. It hurt my feelings. “Of course I do.”

  I didn’t know why I was so hurt. I was cheating on Tyler with his own brother. But I was hurt, badly. I turned and rushed from Tyler’s apartment.

  Brad lived just outside of Chicago, in a massive home in the suburbs. He answered the door quickly.

  “I’m pregnant,” I said before he could say anything.

  “Is it mine?” he asked. He knew I was with Tyler.

  “I don’t know,” I said, and I began to cry. I went inside and sat on the couch and told Brad what his brother had said. Everything overtook me. I rushed from Brad’s place the same way I had rushed from Tyler’s. I needed to be alone.

  I called off work the next day, and then it was the weekend. Tyler called me on Saturday. Brad had talked to him. He left me a message. He yelled at me, berated me. Brad came to my home on Sunday. I almost didn’t let him in, but I did. He held me. I cried. He kissed me. I cried. We made love and then lay together.

  “I love you, Josie,” Brad said. “I do.”

  I nodded. I knew he did, and I knew I loved him too.

  “It might be Tyler’s,” I said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Brad said, shaking his head as we lay naked together in the bed. He kissed me. I kissed him. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew that with Brad by my side, I could be happy.

  And I was happy. Brad and I ended up moving from Chicago. His dad wanted to expand the business. We moved to California. A new building opened up in San Francisco. I headed up an ad team. Brad ran everything else. We married. I had my baby. Neither one of us spoke much to Tyler. I was related once more to Brad—not by blood, but by love.

  *****

  THE END

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  Three under the Mistletoe Exclusive Sneak Peak

  Three under the Mistletoe and Four under the Mistletoe are both part of the Billionaire Christmas Menage Series. Although they are related, both can be read as stand-alones. You’ll love reading about the main characters in both stories!

  Three under the Mistletoe:

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M2A5SDM

  Four under the Mistletoe:

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MSMLOFP

  Three under the Mistletoe: A Christmas Menage Romance

  First Chapter

  CHAPTER 1: McKenzie Wallace

  “Holy shit.” I said the words to no one in particular as I stood in the bright California sunshine, peering over my sunglasses at the enormous glass and steel monstrosity that was the Silicon Valley headquarters of my new employer, Kinsey-Palmer Solutions, or KPS for short.

  “I assume you mean holy shit in a good way?” I heard a man’s voice close behind me. My nerves were already on end and his sudden presence made me jump.

  I turned to find a gorgeous guy with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen standing just a foot away. I guess I was blocking his path since we were scotched between my aging Honda and someone else’s new Beamer that was parked over the line. He gave me a sexy grin that made my already shaky knees shake even more.

  I looked him up and down. He didn’t look like someone on his way into work at one the world’s top cybersecurity software companies. I know, we millennials have a rather relaxed dress code, but this guy literally looked like he’d just fallen off of a surfboard.

  Even though it was the first of December and the rest of the country was snowbound, here in San Jose the temperature was expected to hit the mid-sixties for most of the week.

  In fact, if it wasn’t for the red and blue decorations in the store windows, and the never-ending ads on the radio, and the guy wearing shorts that I saw selling Christmas trees on the way into my first day of work, I would’ve had no idea that Christmas was less than a month away.

  Sixty degrees or not, the ocean water had to be freezing, but I knew that didn’t stop the diehard surfer dudes from catching waves, which apparently this guy was.

  If you look up the word “buff” in the dictionary, this guy’s picture would be there. Muscled up, only without that gross body builder look, he was wearing flip flops and flowery surf shorts and a baggy blue tank top with the words “Surf Life” emblazoned on it. His blond hair was long and damp and tucked behind his ears.

  He held a deep tan and had a jawline that would have made John-John Kennedy jealous. His bright blue eyes beamed at me from over the top a pair of expensive Ray-Ban sunglasses.

  I didn’t know what to say. I clutched the computer bag that was draped over my shoulder and pulled it in front of me like a shield. I wasn’t afraid that he was going to accost me or anything. I mean, we were standing in broad daylight with dozens of people around, for Pete sake. I just felt really self-conscious all of a sudden, as if I had forgotten to get dressed for my first day at work and was standing naked in front of this gorgeous stranger.

  I blinked at him again and muttered. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  His smile turned into a broad grin. His teeth were perfect and white. He nodded at the massive building behind me. “You said holy shit. I said, I assume you mean that in a good way. You know, like, holy shit I’m so impressed by the architecture rather than, holy shit what an ugly ass building.”

  “Oh, I see.” I gave him a smile that hopefully hid how nervous I was. I don’t know if it just first-day jitters that was making my heart pound in my chest or the fact that I was talking to a Paul Walker look-alike in such close proximity. I’m not really good around guys, unless we’re trying to hack computer code, of course. Then, I’m a bitch on wheels!

  I swallowed hard and said, “I really didn’t mean it either way. I was just talking out loud.”

  “Ah, I do that sometimes,” he said with a thoughtful nod. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Christopher. I work here. Is this your first day?”

  “Is it that obvious?” I asked. Of course it was. I was standing in the employee parking lot with my computer bag clutched to my chest and a dumb look on my face. I reached out to shake his hand and hoped he wouldn’t feel how clammy my palm was. I sweat when I’m nervous, especially my hands.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, giving my hand a firm shake, but not squeezing too hard. He held on to my hand even after I relaxed my grip. He leaned in until our noses were just a few inches apart. I heard myself gulp.

  He gave me a serious look with one eyebrow raised. He lowered his voice, as if he were about to share a secret.

  He said
, “Between you and me, I think it’s an ugly ass building, too, but it’s a great place to work. And if they hired you, you must be as smart as you are pretty. What’s your name?”

  “Mac,” I stuttered. “I mean, McKenzie… McKenzie Wallace.”

  “And what do you do, McKenzie-McKenzie Wallace?”

  I blurted out a laugh. Jesus, I was finding it really hard to concentrate, looking into his eyes, seeing myself staring back with my mouth hanging open. I stammered like a fool. “I’m a…. uh… I mean… I’m a computer scientist… I’m a coder.”

  “Awesome! We need more coders!” His mood turned bright as the smile returned to his face. He gave my hand one more little shake before letting it go.

  My hand hung in the air for a moment, as if hoping his hand might return. I let my arm drop when he gave me a pat on the shoulder and said, “Well, I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park.”

  “Thanks, I mean, I hope so.” I felt the heat on my cheeks and knew it wasn’t from the warm sunshine. I pressed my backside against my car so he could slide by.

  Our eyes met as he scooted past with his hands playfully in the air to show that he meant no harm. Our faces were so close I could smell coffee and mint on his lips. I took a deep breath. He smelled of sea air and salt water and sweat and freedom. It was a fragrance that should be bottled and sold in every store on the planet. I would buy it a case at a time.

  “Just check in at the front desk and they’ll take care of you,” he said, jarring me from my daydream. By the time I looked up, he was walking backward toward the front entrance.

  “Okay,” I said. I gave him a thumbs-up and immediately felt like an idiot. Like I said, I’m not very good around guys; especially guys that looked like him.

  He laughed and held up two thumbs in return. He wiggled his hands, giving me the surfer wave and said, “Maybe I’ll see you inside, McKenzie-McKenzie Wallace.”

  With that, he turned to join the stream of employees flooding into the humongous, butt-ass-ugly building.

  “McKenzie, you’re a total moron,” I said, shaking my head at my own behavior. I turned to lock my car door – yes, it’s an old piece-of-crap car and I have to use the key -- then it suddenly dawned on me who surfer dude really was.

  I felt myself getting nauseous. I had to brace myself against the car. For a minute I thought I was going to puke right there in the parking lot on my first day at work.

  The surfer dude who was just flirting with me – wait, was he flirting with me or am I just being stupid – was Christopher Kinsey, partner of Patrick Palmer. They founded Kinsey-Palmer out of their dorm room during their senior year at MIT ten years ago.

  Now KPS was one of the top cybersecurity software companies on the planet and my very first employer since graduating from Georgia Tech with a master’s degree in computer science three months ago.

  Kinsey and Palmer were both just thirty years old, but they were co-CEOs of a billion dollar, multinational company, both were billionaires, both single, and both probably had women lined up to grant their every wish.

  And I’d just said “holy shit” in front of one of them.

  I forced the vomit back down my throat, then took a deep breath and headed for the door, hoping that this wasn’t an indicator of how my day – and my time at KPS – was going to go.

  Would you like to find out how this continues?

  Then Click Here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M2A5SDM

  More Steamy Romance by Tia Siren

  About The Author

  Other than my insatiable desire for chocolate, reading and writing steamy romances is my most guilty pleasure.

  I write about tough and sexy Bad Boys who, underneath that armor of muscles and tattoos (and sometimes suits), are more sensitive and wounded than they'd like to admit.

  I'm happily married to a really good guy, but, every now and again, I crave the forbidden excitement of falling for one of the bad boys in my stories.

  There really is a bad girl in me too!

  Want to Read More?

  Check out my other books. For a limited time, they are just 99c and always free on Kindle Unlimited. Please click on the link.

  Billionaire Flawed: A Bad Boy Billionaire Baby Romance

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LYQ9YC4

  Big Bad Cowboy: A Billionaire and a Virgin Romance

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N8V9C8B

  Three under the Mistletoe: A MFMM Menage Romance

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M2A5SDM

  Ace: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LXL3E2T

  First Chapter Sample: ACE: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

  Chapter One

  “Two eggs, scrambled, side of bacon and toast. As always, I threw in an extra piece of bacon for ya,” I said with a wink.

  “Ah, thank you, Scarlet. You certainly know how to take care of this old man. Why don’t you come down here for a kiss?”

  I smiled through my annoyance. This wasn’t the first time Mr. Johnson had tried to get me to kiss him, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. “I hope you’ll settle for another hug,” I said as I leaned in and gave him a quick embrace.

  As soon as his hand touched my back, it wandered down toward my behind. I threw a hand up to stop him and shook my head, a smile still plastered on my lips. The move was a reflex I had developed over the years to protect myself from the handsy, older crowd.

  “You got me again, Scarlet,” he said.

  “You’ll just have to try harder,” I replied. Obviously, I didn’t want him to ever grab my behind. However, the more playful I was, the better he tipped, and since the man tipped like we were still living in the fifties, I needed all the help I could get. It was a frustrating cycle I found myself in, but it paid the bills, if only barely.

  I weaved through the diner and pushed my way into the kitchen. Greg, my manager, was working the grill since the cook had called in sick. He was about as old as Mr. Johnson and twice as round. Whenever he worked the grill, navigating the narrow aisles of the kitchen was a real struggle.

  “Mr. Johnson tried again today,” I informed him, beyond frustrated as I set some dirty dishes in the sink. “Is there any way you could put a sign up asking them not to harass the wait staff?”

  “C’mon, Scarlet, it’s hard enough keeping myself from doing it,” Greg teased with a smile that filled his entire face. “You are gorgeous, and you should hear men say it more often.”

  The smile on his face and the genuine compliments he sent my way always made it impossible for me to stay mad—or even annoyed—at him. I laughed it off while he flipped sausages.

  “Well, you’re no help.” I sighed, shaking my head. “And you’re just as bad as Mr. Johnson.”

  Greg’s chuckles echoed throughout the kitchen as I gathered a few plates that were ready for delivery and made my way out to the floor. I was barely out the door when I felt a familiar vibration. A line formed between my brows as I delivered the food with a forced smile.

  Worry that it might be the babysitter calling about Kimmy made the few minutes it took me to return to the back room feel like an eternity. As soon as the door closed behind me, I ducked into a corner and slipped my phone from my server apron.

  My heart settled when I saw Lisa’s name in the text message. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked to her. It was probably before I’d had Kimmy, but I didn’t really care either way. Still, my curiosity got the better of me, and I tapped on the message.

  Hey, Scarlet. I know it’s been years, but I’m getting married this weekend, and I really want you at my wedding. We were best friends for so long, and it wouldn’t be the same without you. Call me. It’s been too long, and we must catch up. Bye!”

  Lisa was getting married? I didn’t know what was more surprising, that she was actually getting married or that she had found a man capable of putting up with her for more than ten minutes. I chuckled at my mean thought and tucked my phone
back into my pocket as I left the back room.

  I did my best to be the diligent worker I always was, but the message kept playing in the back of my mind. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Lisa in so long, and now she wanted to hang out like it was still high school. The notion was weird at best.

  It was a slow day, and I was eager to return home. I believe Greg could tell that I was preoccupied with something, because he let me leave a little earlier than usual. I thanked him with a hug and ran out to the bus stop at the corner.

  Home wasn’t too far away, but it was just far enough that walking at the end of a long day’s work was difficult. As per usual, I got a few looks from men on the bus, and I did my best to ignore them. Thankfully, no one worked up the courage to introduce themselves.

  My little apartment, a one-bedroom rental above an old grocery store, could barely be called that, but it was home. And thanks to my friendship with the owners and my part-time job at their establishment, it was also cheap. As an added bonus, the wife, Dawn, sometimes looked after Kimmy for me, which saved quite a few bucks on babysitters every month.

  “Hey, Dawn,” I greeted as I opened the door.

  Dawn hushed me and pointed at Kimmy, who was tucked into the crook of her arm and peacefully taking a nap. Despite her efforts, the sound of my voice woke her, as it always did.

  “Mommy!” she shouted, still a little groggy, as her eyes popped open.

  My heart melted, and I ran toward her, lifting her up for a big hug.

  “What did you do today, Kimmy?” I asked in between kisses.

  “I learned how to count to five!” She showed me her tiny open palm. “Wanna hear?”

  I giggled and nodded, as she was already starting to count.

  “One . . . two . . . th—” Dawn leaned in and whispered in her ear, and she went on. “Three . . . four . . . five.” The smile on her lips was so big and sweet, it filled me with pride.