Harem: An MFMM Romance

by Abby Angel

  This time, sex has nothing to do with a power play. It has nothing to do with Simon's demands, or with Ethan’s prototype. No, this time we’re making love (oh, God, did I really say make love?) because I want to. Because I need to please him. That’s right, it’s not about me; it’s about him.

  Pulling back from our kiss, I press my forehead against his and simply look into his eyes. I could lose myself there, and somehow, I know that I’m already lost. Oh, God, what’s happening to me? I never got this involved with any of my… targets. I can’t do this, I can’t. But it looks and feels so right…

  My eyes never leaving his, I ride him until I feel his cock spasming. His pleasure turns into my own, and my pussy starts tightening up around his shaft at the same time. I smile at him, and just like that, we come undone. He groans, and I moan; in a fraction of a second, I feel his cock coating my insides with his cum, and it’s simply perfection. Christ, I love to make him cum, to know that I’m pleasing him like no other woman can.

  Ecstasy courses through us both as if we were one, and I close my eyes and surrender to his embrace. Breathing softly, I lay my head against his chest and remain like that as his cum drips down my pussy, his cock finally quieting down.

  I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m falling for him, and that’s exactly what I’m afraid of. If I fall for him, I’m screwed.

  Rolling to the side, I sprawl myself on top of the mattress, gazing at the ceiling. Ethan turns to me and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. “You’re really one of a kind, Brittney,” he whispers, and I feel my heart melting. Oh, God, please don’t allow this to happen. Please, please. I can’t fall for him.

  I remain on the bed as Ethan gets up and goes for a shower. I lay there as if I’m frozen, but the gears inside my head are turning at high speed. What am I going to do?

  “I ordered you breakfast, babe,” Ethan tells me, coming out from the closet fifteen minutes later, already dressed. He’s wearing a dark suit and I can’t help but notice how it fits him perfectly. I’m sure it’s expensive as hell, but I’m not talking about the quality of the suit… Somehow, Ethan is the kind of guy that makes suits look good, and not the other way around. “You can take your time, but I gotta go.”

  “Thank you, Ethan,” I tell him with a smile, and I don’t even know if I’m thanking him for the breakfast, or for the sex. I guess it’s both. When he finally leaves, I wait until I hear the elevator going down, and only then do I get up.

  I take a long shower, and then I get dressed; Ethan left a new dress and matching bra and thong for me on the bathroom. Already feeling hungry, I stumble toward the living room, and when I get there, it’s as if I’ve been hit by thunder. My eyes go straight to the briefcase sitting on the coffee table and my heart stops beating.

  He left the Illicit Escape prototype behind.

  I walk toward it, my heart now racing, but I can’t even bring myself to touch it. Here it is, the one thing capable of buying my freedom from Simon. My way out. All I have to do is pack it up, shut the briefcase and forget that Ethan exists. So simple, and so hard.

  That’s when I hear my phone ring. I go toward the sound, and find it lying on the couch, next to my purse. On the screen, there’s a single name: Simon. Sighing heavily, I pick the phone up and press it against my ear.

  “Where are you?” he asks me immediately, the tone of his voice a disgusting one. He treats me as if I’m his slave.

  “Home,” I lie. I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth.

  “Any news? I want this over with as fast as possible, Brittney,” he continues, a veiled threat in the way his words get to me.

  “I’m working on it. But it’s not as easy as you think… He doesn’t leave that thing where someone can just pick it up, you know?” I continue to lie, suddenly feeling nauseous. I feel like I’m falling down a hole, and I don’t know when I’m going to hit the ground.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Brittney,” he hisses, and I can almost imagine his disgusting face contorting with rage. “You know what I can do.” I feel like I’m going to be sick. More than anyone, I know what Simon can do… I close my eyes, and remain silent, the memories of moments long gone flashing behind my eyelids. “If he finds out where you are, you are fucked, bitch. You better remember that.”

  “Simon, I…”

  “Don’t you fucking try to stall. I know you’re on the run, hiding like a scared little girl… And if you don’t get me the prototype, I’ll tell him where he can find you. Let’s see how tough you are when your sweet ex-boyfriend is choking the life out of you.” Oh, God. How did it get to this? The worst part is that I’m not scared for myself. No, if my ex finds out that I ran away after discovering his secret, more people will suffer.

  When I was younger, I used to hang out with the wrong crowd. One thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, I was head over heels with one of these assholes women say they hate, but then end up with. Except this asshole wasn’t just bad… He was evil. I knew that the first time I had to put on makeup to hide the bruises. I remember that during a visit to the ER my right eye was so swollen that I thought I’d never be able to see again.

  I thought of running away more than once… I thought of fighting back. But things are never that easy, hun. You see, my lovely ex had more secrets than he cared to share. And once I got down to the bottom of it, I knew I was trapped. I couldn’t do a thing. If I tried to fight back, I’d be putting other women in danger.

  That’s why one day something just snapped inside of me and I left. I came here to New York, looking to start over and forget all about my past… A new start, just like in the movies. Of course, the past has its ways of catching up to you. Call it bad luck; call it karma… Call it whatever you want. Thing is, now that Simon knows about my past, he’s using it as a threat to make me do his bidding. And I don’t know what to do. I really don’t.

  Tears start to well in my eyes, and I have to take a deep breath to stop myself from sobbing. “I’ll get it done,” I whisper, one lone tear streaming down my face. “I’ll fucking do it.”

  With that, I end the call and throw the phone into my purse. I place the glasses inside the briefcase, shut it, and leave the apartment.

  I have no choice, it’s the only thought echoing inside my head. I have no choice.

  Ethan

  I hear a whistle coming from my right side and I look up to a see a woman smiling. Her teeth are so white they almost seem blue. She's completely naked, except for a pair of stilettos on her feet. She has great breasts and a great body; I'll give her that, but I have zero interest in exchanging fucking flirty banter with her, if that's what she's hoping for.

  "Well, someone's looking smoking hot today," she purrs. She pushes a stray section of blonde hair behind her ear and walks closer, placing her hand on my arm.

  "Don't you have a promotional shoot to be at Amy?" I ask, not giving her another glance.

  She gets the hint and walks off. I can hear the sound of her heels clicking against the hard floor. I listen until it fades with her distance.

  I swear, not more than five fucking minutes later, another woman walks up to me. She's a little more clothed, but not by much.

  "Is this silk?" she asks, playfully running her hand along my tie.

  "Yes, it is," I reply, only half listening. My response is curt and unenthusiastic. I move my body just out of her fucking reach.

  "Care to join me for a drink tonight… and maybe something more?" she asks, a devilish grin on her face. I know exactly what she's insinuating.

  "Not tonight doll," I say dismissively. Don't get me wrong; she's hot and easily fuckable, but I just don't care. Normally, I'd be up for bending most of these women over and fucking them… but now I have my sights on only one. Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. Ethan fucking Kane getting attached? But before you think I'm growing soft on you, I'm not. I'm just into Brittney, okay?

  I watch as a frown forms on the actress' face—I can't ev
en remember her name—and she moves on. I don't think most of these new actresses ever expected me to be so uninterested in them—given my reputation and all.

  I enjoy a relatively peaceful next 20 minutes when I suddenly feel two arms wrapped around my waist.

  "How's my handsome boss today?" the voice asks. I turn around and see that it's Carla. Remember her from the scene we shot in the upper middle-class suburban home, complete with crochet on the tables, a giant 52” flat screen TV on the wall, pictures of a fictional family, and a roaring fireplace?

  That was all before Brittney. Back then, it felt fine fucking Carla. She wasn't anything amazing, but my cock didn't seem to complain. After Brittney, I don't want anything to do fucking do with her.

  I give Carla a smile but don't say much. I really don't have anything to say, but I don't want to be over-the-top rude.

  "When are we gonna shoot another scene together?" she purrs.

  "I'm really too busy for that these days," I say. She gives me a puzzled look. I've never been one to stay out of shoots completely. But she shrugs her own confusion away, gives me one more quick hug goodbye, and walks off.

  I begin to walk off as well, and then hear another voice.

  "Ethan, there you are!"

  Great. Can't I get any time to think around this place without women fawning all over me?

  "Look, I need everyone to leave me al—" I say, but I'm cut off. It's Cheryl.

  "It's important," she says.

  "Sorry, I didn't realize it was you," I reply. "I've been bombarded ever since I walked in the door."

  "Where's the prototype?" she asks me. "You left here with it yesterday, but I don't see it anywhere."

  "I left it at home."

  "You what?" Cheryl asks. She looks genuinely shocked.

  "It's fine. I'll bring it back in tomorrow."

  "Ethan, do you realize what you've done? You've left our only prototype—the one piece of technology that we're banking on and pouring all of our resources into—exposed and unguarded. Would you leave a million dollars on the sidewalk and expect it to be there the next day?"

  "It's not like I left it on the street corner," I say. "That's not a good analogy. This is my apartment we're talking about. It's safe there. No one is going to touch it."

  "Are you sure about that?" Cheryl asks, her eyes narrowing. "I don't think that was the wisest thing to do because you weren't alone … You had Brittney over."

  "How did you know that?" I ask.

  "I dropped her off near One57 yesterday and just as I thought, she ended up at your place.”

  For a moment I wonder if Cheryl has resorted to stalking me at my own apartment now.

  "Look, I know you worry, but I trust her," I say.

  "Since when have you become so trusting of strangers?" she asks.

  "It's not like that … I've gotten to really know Brittney. She's not a stranger. I can trust her. She's opened up to me. You can trust her too."

  Are you listening to yourself?" Cheryl asks, shaking her head. "Prove to me that she can be trusted."

  "Why are you being so difficult? What's come over you?" I ask.

  "Do you even know what Brittney used to do before we hired her on?"

  "Yes, I already know all about that," I say. "She told me. She was in porn, and then started her own business, Man Chasers LLC."

  "And did she tell you what she did with that company?"

  "Yes, she told me all about that too," I shrug. "Look, it doesn't bother me. She helped women get back at their cheating husbands. She helped them find closure… and justice."

  "Did she forget to mention how she managed to pull that off?" Cheryl asks.

  "Well, we didn't go into depth on that."

  "She used deceit, Ethan. That's what she did. She lied. And she was good at it. She could convince even the most powerful men to drop their pants for her, and she was cunning enough to gain access to them," she says. "Think about that for a moment."

  I never really thought about it like that. I guess Cheryl has a fucking point. But what Brittney and I have together is fucking different. I'm not some cheating husband that she's been hired to uncover.

  "Look, I'll prove to you that the prototype is fine," I say. "I brought my tablet. It's connected to the cameras in my apartment. I'll power it on, and I'll show you that the prototype is still sitting in my briefcase, on the table."

  I hold down the home button and toggle my tablet on. The screen glows to life, and I click on the application that'll show Cheryl everything's fine. Maybe then she'll get off my back. I know she means well, but I wish she'd just fucking trust me.

  The app launches and I immediately see a live view of my apartment. Everything is still. I don't see Brittney anywhere. She must've already left.

  I pan around to the living room, and I zoom in. I see the couch … I see the table … but I don't see the briefcase.

  What the fuck? My heart sinks, and my pulse races. I know I left that briefcase in plain view. I should be seeing it. I'm trying to fight the dizzy feeling that's beginning to flood my head.

  I'm trying to keep my cool in front of Cheryl. What if she's right? Fuck.

  "I know the briefcase is around here somewhere," I say, panning around the apartment.

  "I thought you said it was on your living room table?" Cheryl asks.

  "It was… or I thought it was, but I could've misremembered," I say.

  "It's gone, Ethan," she says. "I told you. Brittney couldn't be trusted. Now what are we going to do?"

  My heart now sinks even further as I realize Cheryl's right. I'm not sure if this is what a broken heart feels like, but it must be pretty fucking close.

  The realization finally sinks in. Despite the fact that I know what she did, I have to repeat it to myself.

  Brittney used me. She stole the prototype.

  There's a moment of stunned silence.

  "Ethan you can trust me," a voice says from behind me. "Here's your prototype."

  I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn around. It's Brittney and she's holding my briefcase in one hand.

  "I thought you stole the prototype," I say. I'm relieved that she's here, but she looks distraught. This isn't the Brittney I kissed goodbye to in my apartment.

  "I love you Ethan," Brittney says. "I love you with every fiber of my body. I've never felt this way about a man before… but now that I've met you, I know what true love feels like. I can't imagine my life without you."

  "Brit, come here," I say, embracing her in a hug. I see tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. "What's wrong?"

  "I'm afraid Ethan," she says. "Very afraid."

  She continues, "There's a man out there who wouldn't hesitate to see me dead."

  Brittney

  I don’t care about what happens next. I can’t bring myself to betray Ethan. Whatever the consequences are, I’ll face them as long as he’s with me. When I first came into this, I came ready to do my job, but I ended up falling for the best man I have ever met… And I can’t turn my back on him. I deserve this.

  It wasn’t easy to stroll into his office with an admission of guilt, throwing myself at his mercy. But this was what I had to do. Even if Simon makes good on his word, there was no other option for me. Not anymore.

  So here I am, standing in front of Ethan, fear and hesitancy nestled in my mind. I look at him with pursed lips, knowing that there’s no going back from this; this is my personal Rubicon, and I’ve just crossed it. Cheryl dismisses herself from the room.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, taking one step toward him. He’s standing in front of his desk, dashing as always. And now, more than ever, I need to feel his arms around me. “I really am.”

  “Don’t.” He brushes the back of his hand on my cheek, and then runs his long fingers through my hair. “You’re here, and you did right by me. We’ll work this out.” I nod, hoping that his words turn out to be true, and that everything will work out. Looking into his eyes and seeing the confidence shining
there, I can’t help but trust him. Still, deep inside of me I know that the world is a mean and dirty place, and it will do everything to crush me. I know it, and Simon does too. “I promise you,” he adds, and then leans into me. His lips touch mine, and there’s a gentle tenderness to our kiss.

  “I’m so glad I met you,” I whisper, pressing my forehead against his and smiling. Whatever happens, nothing will change this. Meeting someone like Ethan… It was like finding an oasis after walking for years through a barren wasteland.

  “Me too,” he says, pressing his mouth against mine once again. I take my fingers to his face, and gently hold him as I part my lips and push my tongue inside his mouth. My heart is beating steadily, and this time it isn’t just lust racing through my veins; there’s love too. Love. It feels good to admit it; I love him, and I wouldn’t change that for all the money in the world.

  I let my hands fall down from his face and I press them over his chest. Underneath his shirt and his pectorals, I can hear the steady beat of his heart. It’s silly to say this, but it almost seems that his heart is beating at the same rhythm as mine. Right now, I can’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

  Sliding my fingers up from his chest to his collar, I loosen his tie and then unknot it. Instinct guiding my hands, I start to unbutton his white shirt, my fingers working swiftly. Once I get down to his waistline, I untuck the shirt from his pants, and finally flatten the palm of my hands against his abs. It doesn’t matter how many times I feel his body… I can’t get enough of it. It’s almost as if God put Ethan on this Earth for me to find out, all his perfection a hidden gift.

  As I slide my hands over his abs, Ethan rests his hands on my ass, over my skirt, and pulls me into his embrace. With my breasts pressed against his bare chest, I feel my nipples hardening, a warmness spreading from them and numbing my mind. Between my thighs, I feel my pussy growing wet, desire spreading its wings inside of me.

  “I want you,” I tell him, pushing his shirt down his arms. “I need you,” I continue, taking my hands to his head and grabbing his hair.