London Dynasty (The Dynasties Book 1)

by Geneva Lee

  I hung up with her, still shaking my head at her solution to my problem. I couldn’t get involved with both Spencer and Holden.

  Could I?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Before I had a chance to really consider it, a text message showed up on my phone.

  Hey, Holden and I are going to watch the West Ham match tonight at our place. Care to come and see why they should be your team, too?

  I hesitated before typing my response. I wanted to see Spencer.

  Holden?

  He promises to be on his best behavior, but I can kick him out if you want me all to yourself. I just thought the two of you should get to know each other.

  I thought of what Eliza had said. This was my opportunity to feel out the situation. It was a crazy idea, but I wasn’t sure I had any other choice. I had to find a way to keep myself from getting too involved with Spencer. That didn’t leave me many options. So I responded with the only viable one.

  What time?

  Spencer had a late meeting with his grandfather, so I arranged to have the driver take me to his flat. Tod had seemed positively giddy at the news. And if he noticed that I hadn’t come back to the house last night, he didn’t say anything. I supposed it was easier not to worry about someone who wasn’t your daughter. I didn’t bother to change from my tank top and jeans. A night watching football seemed like something that should be kept casual, but when I arrived Spencer opened the door, still wearing his suit.

  His necktie hung loosely around his collar, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw me.

  “Long day?” I asked.

  “The longest. But I’m glad to see you,” he said. “I’m just going to change out of this.”

  “You hungry? Maybe I could order some take-out?”

  “There are some menus in the kitchen. Holden will show you where they are.” He disappeared, leaving me with his brother while he went to change. Holden appeared as if summoned.

  “I’m told my assistance is required,” he said to me.

  “I’m sure I can find the menus on my own.” I began opening drawers, doing my best to ignore him. The trouble was that Holden was as hard to ignore as Spencer, no doubt owing to their having the same face. But where Spencer sent heat flashing through my body, turning my skin slick with sweat, Holden elicited a trembling chill. Being near him filled me with a cold-but-thrilling dread that heightened my awareness of my whole body.

  “They’re here.” Holden reached for a drawer at the same time I did, and our hands brushed. Goosebumps rose along my arm where our skin made contact, sending a tremor through me. I took a step away from him.

  “I won’t bite,” he said, noticing my reaction, “unless you ask me to.”

  “That’s exactly what someone like you would say,” I said haughtily.

  “Someone like me?” He smirked and moved a step closer. I took another back. “What does that mean?”

  “I think you know exactly what it means,” I said in a low voice. Where was Spencer? What was taking him so long?

  “But I want to hear you say it,” he murmured, moving even closer and sending me backward until I hit the counter. I reached behind and gripped its edge, realizing I was trapped. Holden leaned forward planting his hands on either side of me. “You’ve got nowhere to go now.”

  I swallowed, refusing to look at him. “I told Spencer I would order food. I’m hungry.”

  “I think I can help you with that.” He was close enough now that any movement would bring us into contact. His lips—Spencer’s lips—stared back at me in invitation. I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Would it feel like it did when I kissed Spencer? Would it be different? Would it be better?

  “What did you order?” Spencer’s voice called from down the hall. Footsteps approached and Holden straightened up. He handed me the menus then walked to the couch.

  The menus shook in my hands, betraying how flustered I was by the encounter.

  “I haven’t decided,” I told Spencer as he entered the room. “Curry or Chinese?”

  “Curry.”

  “Chinese.”

  They both answered at once and I wasn’t sure which one wanted what.

  Spencer shot me a lopsided smile that made my heart flip. “My brother and I always want the opposite thing when it comes to food. It’s one of the few ways we’re different.”

  “Naw, I’m better looking, brother,” Holden said as he dropped onto the sofa and spread his arms along its back. He spoke to Spencer, but he looked at me. I turned away.

  “You’ll have to be the deciding vote,” Spencer said. “Choose wisely.”

  I swallowed, wondering why all decisions had to be left up to me. My brain was swimming, so I looked down and chose the menu on the top of the stack. “Curry.”

  “Yes!” Spencer pumped his fist and shot a victorious look at his brother. “Clearly, we belong together.”

  Holden studied me for a moment as if trying to decide if that was true, but when he finally spoke, he only said, “Get me some Chicken Tikka Masala.”

  I placed the order while Spencer grabbed a few beers out of the fridge. It was late enough that the match had already started, and by the time I joined them on the couch, settling in closely to Spencer, they were already yelling at the screen.

  “That’s a fucking terrible call!” Spencer yelled as a referee threw a flag on the ground.

  “So you both root for West Ham?” I asked Holden, feeling more comfortable speaking to him with Spencer at my side.

  “Like he said, we pretty much agree on everything but food. We definitely have the same taste.” Holden winked at me.

  Next to me, Spencer was too busy yelling at the television to notice his brother’s flirtations. I took a long swig of my beer followed by another. It was going to be a long match.

  Apparently, during any Premier League match, food delivery was couriered by snails. Our dinner still hadn’t arrived as the final minutes were counting down on the clock, and I was three beers deep and beginning to feel buzzed. Spencer and Holden weren’t much better off. Each bad call seemed to result in more drinking. I was too tipsy to know if the referees were as bad as the brothers both thought or if the team was simply living up to its reputation.

  “I’m going to use the loo,” I told Spencer, kissing his cheek. He grunted a response, his eyes never leaving the match. I left them discussing whether West Ham would finally be relegated this year.

  I’d had enough beer that it felt good to relieve myself. When I finally stood to wash my hands, I looked in the mirror and found my face blurring slightly at the edges. Food needed to arrive soon, or I ran the risk of getting far too drunk. I retied my hair, straightened my shirt, and returned to the living room.

  The couch was empty and the match over. I looked around, wondering where they had gone. Opening the fridge door, I pulled out another lager and began looking around for the bottle opener. I finally spotted it sitting next to the sink, surrounded by nearly a dozen other bottle caps. Moving to open it, I felt two strong arms wrap around me.

  “You smell good,” Spencer said, nuzzling the sensitive spot behind my ear. A soft moan slipped out of me and I felt his cock stiffen in response. Twisting in his arms, the beer forgotten on the counter, I offered my lips to him. The kiss was deep and slow. My mouth parted and his tongue slipped inside, flicking lazily over my teeth and sending an icy thrill racing up my spine. Somewhere in my drunken haze, I thought I heard an alarm ringing. But I was too lost to him, to lost to this slow, purposeful kiss. It wasn’t like the others. It was full of a longing he had never shown me rather than the hunger with which he’d devoured me the night before.

  “Well, then,” his voice interrupted, and I broke away from him as I tried to process how he could be kissing me and speaking to me at the same time.

  I stumbled backward as my eyes fell on Spencer standing in the open entry, holding a paper bag. My hand flew to my mouth as my brain caught up with the situation.

&nbs
p; “You bastard!” I smacked Holden in the chest. I turned pleading eyes on Spencer, hoping he could see the mistake I’d made, but his face was shadowed. “I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t apologize,” Spencer said, his words slurring slightly, as he placed the curry on the kitchen island. “I told you my brother and I have the same taste in everything but food.”

  “That doesn’t mean that it’s okay for me to kiss him. I thought—”

  “That it was me?” he guessed. There was a sort of detached interest on his face as he watched me fumble for an explanation. Meanwhile, Holden was lounging against the counter, looking neither guilty nor ashamed. Instead, he seemed amused.

  “I didn’t know if you were going to share this one with me,” Holden said to his brother.

  Spencer abandoned the food and took a spot equidistant to us. “That’s up to her,” he said. “She isn’t like the others.”

  “I can see that.” Holden continued to speak to his brother like I wasn’t there.

  “Wait?” I stopped them. “Share me?”

  I did my best to muster an appropriate amount of disgust at this suggestion, but I was beginning to feel feverish with them both here. This is what Eliza had told me to do. She told me they would be into it. Why hadn’t I believed her? Because I didn’t want to? Because I wanted Spencer to keep me to himself?

  That was dangerous. I knew that. And standing here with both of them in front of me and alcohol swimming in my veins, I couldn’t think of a reason not to have both. Hadn’t Eliza said to enjoy myself while I could? The time would come when neither Spencer nor Holden Byrd was beholden to me. But for the moment, they were.

  “I thought you said she was a virgin,” Holden said, and I felt the sting of betrayal. Somehow, the fact that Spencer had told his brother made it easier to make my decision.

  “She’s not sleeping with you,” Spencer said with a finality that dared him to be questioned.

  “I thought that was my choice?” I was tired of standing here while they treated me like a toy they were negotiating custody of instead of a person.

  Spencer arched an eyebrow in surprise. “I thought you might want more time before…”

  “You’re right,” I said to him, taking a step toward Holden. “I’m not sleeping with him. Tonight.” I stopped in front of his brother and looked between the two of them. The alcohol was making me brave and I slipped into the role of someone much more liberated than I had ever been. Maybe that was how Kerrigan was in real life. Maybe I was channeling her. “How does it work? Does one of you watch? Or…?”

  Spencer stepped closer, his tongue darting over his lower lip. “Sometimes. Sometimes, we both...but I don’t think you’re ready for both of us at the same time.”

  I felt a gush of arousal between my legs at the thought of both of them touching me, both of their mouths on me, of… I turned hooded eyes on Spencer and simpered, “Did you tell him how good I am at giving blow jobs?”

  His jaw clenched as he shook his head.

  “Come now, boys. Am I supposed to believe you don’t kiss and tell? You said you share everything.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder, daring one of them to contradict me.

  “We haven’t gotten around to talking about it,” Spencer said slowly. He continued to move with caution as though he was trying to approach a wild animal.

  “Do you want me to show him instead?” I was drunk, and out of control, and somewhere I knew that. The trouble was that I didn’t care.

  “It’s nice to share,” he agreed, crooking his finger for me to come closer.

  I moved toward him, swaying my hips, feeling emboldened by newly discovered empowerment. When I reached him, Spencer grabbed my face and delivered a rough kiss. He was marking his territory, erasing the kiss I’d just experienced with Holden. Flames burst inside me, turning my core molten at the demanding show of affection. This wasn’t the kindness he had shown me in bed the night before. It was harsh and dominating. When we broke apart, he grabbed the waistband of my jeans and dragged me to the sofa.

  Spencer sat down on the edge of the coffee table and pointed to my clothes. “Take them off.”

  I bit my lip, dimly aware that Holden was watching. Was Spencer calling my bluff? Did it matter?

  I leveled my gaze at him, reached down, and pulled my shirt over my head. It wasn’t as bold of a move as I’d anticipated since it got stuck on my ponytail. When I pulled it off triumphantly, Holden had joined us and taken his seat on the couch. My eyes darted to him, trying to gauge his reaction to what was happening. I had no idea if Spencer would keep encouraging this. I had no clue how far this would go. But with their eyes on me, I wanted to see it to the end.

  I savored the lusty glint in Spencer’s eyes as I removed my bra. Holden shifted in his seat a bit to get a better view.

  “The jeans, Kerrigan,” Spencer said like he was running down a checklist.

  I unfastened them, pausing only a moment in case he wanted to stop me. When he said nothing, I pushed them to the floor, along with my thong. Then I stepped one foot at a time out of them.

  I was completely nude in the middle of a flat with two men watching my every movement. I glanced between them, pleased at how their eyes trailed over every inch of me. But I made no move.

  Spencer’s throat slid, and finally, he gave his next command. “Show my brother what you can do with that wicked mouth.”

  I walked to Holden. His trousers strained against his erection. Holden relaxed back into the corner of the seat and spread his legs wide, so I could lower to my knees before him. He threw both arms over the back of the couch and smirked, his eyes darting down expectantly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Spencer shift. Then I felt him sit down on the table behind me.

  I had their full attention. At that moment, I was the center of their universe. They orbited me like planets did the sun. Only I could give them what they wanted—what they needed.

  I undid Holden’s fly with ease, my fingers moving with the brazen self-assurance pumping through me. I slipped my hand into his pants and freed his cock. It felt heavy in my hands.

  “You are identical,” I breathed. How nature had created not one but two perfect specimens of men was beyond me, but I was going to enjoy it.

  Leaning forward, I planted my hands on his thighs for balance before delivering a slow, languid lick from Holden’s balls to his tip.

  “That’s right,” he urged.

  I circled the tip, licking and sucking it lightly until I was sure he was more than ready. Then I took him into my throat.

  “Fuck me,” Holden said, sounding like Spencer had this morning. “Christ, are you...fuck!”

  When I hit his coarse hair, I tightened my lips around him and drew up his length before slamming my mouth back down. This wasn’t the slow, deliberate torture I’d delivered to Spencer in bed due to beer, so I gagged slightly.

  A hand skimmed over my backside as though Spencer had heard the mistake. But I didn’t let up.

  “You like sucking his cock, don’t you?” Spencer whispered, sliding his palm down between my legs. “She’s so fucking wet, Holden. How’s that feel, brother?”

  “Fucking amazing,” Holden grunted.

  “Pull her hair,” Spencer said, and I shuddered with pleasure as Holden grabbed my ponytail and yanked. He urged me up and down.

  Spencer bent his mouth to my ear and murmured, “Someday, if you want, we’ll fuck you both together. You want that, don’t you?” He slid a finger inside me. “I can tell by how wet you are. No resistance at all.”

  I whimpered, the sound muffled by Holden’s dick.

  “You’re not ready yet, though, but I think you should be rewarded. Right, brother?”

  “Fuck” was Holden’s only response. He jerked my ponytail up and down, fucking my throat savagely. My own need built with each thrust.

  Spencer slipped two fingers inside me, plunging roughly in and out. I was so close. I wiggled toward his hand, wanting more, but he denied me. Rather t
han a reward, he seemed to be playing with me. Taking me close to the edge and then pulling me back until he finally withdrew altogether.

  When Holden’s release hit the back of my throat, I swallowed it and then lurched back on my knees. I shoved my hand between my legs, driven to the point of frenzy, and rubbed furiously until I shattered in front of them. I cried out, head falling back.

  Crashing. Crashing. Crashing back to earth.

  When my hand finally stilled, I hung my head, panting. Before I could make another move, Spencer picked me up off the ground and carried me to his bedroom. He kicked the door shut so forcefully that it rattled on its hinges. He set me down on my feet in front of his bed.

  “I want to fuck you,” he said harshly.

  “Yes,” I mewled. Coming at my own hands didn’t hold the same power now that I knew the pleasure he could give me.

  “Ask me to,” he bit out.

  “Fuck me, Spencer. Please fuck me.”

  He pushed me to the mattress, then flipped me roughly over onto my stomach. My core tightened as I heard the swift swish of his belt being pulled free of his pants, followed by the rip of foil. There was no cautious pause or tender attention tonight. I’d rattled his cage, and the beast inside him wanted satisfaction.

  Spencer drove into me with one punishing stroke, and I cried out in pain. His hands gripped my hips as he thrust harder and deeper and faster each time. The pain shifted, and I wept with pleasure each time he plunged inside me. His skin smacked against mine, calling out one word.

  Mine.

  Mine.

  Mine.

  The message was loud and clear. He had shared me with Holden, but I belonged to him.

  When he finally came with an angry roar, he pulled out and threw himself on the bed.

  It had been too rough and fast for me to join him. That wasn’t going to work for me.

  I dropped down and coaxed his softening cock into my mouth, sucking until it began to harden again. Spencer crossed his arms behind his head and watched with muted interest as I worked.