Milo crossed his arms over his chest and strode to the door, pushing it shut. With a soft yet audible click, it closed, and he turned to head towards his desk, taking a seat in the big chair behind it.
“Have a seat, Julian.” Milo gestured to the chair in front of him, eyeing Julian with a strange glint. Julian frowned and glanced towards the door, wondering if this was some kind of trap.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why did you close the door?” Julian asked, suspiciously.
Was this part where he would sic his henchmen on Julian? Make sure they disposed of him in a way that didn’t led back to him?
Milo waved the comment away. “Privacy. What’s the matter with you? Why are you acting like I’m about to kill you?”
“Aren’t you?” Julian asked, bluntly. “Isn’t this the part where you threaten to kill me if I don’t stay away from her? How they won’t find anything left of me except for my bones?”
Milo leaned back in his chair. “Personally, I’d prefer poison. It’s much simpler and far less messy.”
Julian narrowed his eyes at the glass of water. “So, I won’t be drinking anything you offer. Thanks for the tip, or was that some kind of reverse psychology thing?”
Milo’s eyes widened slightly before a choked laugh bubbled up from his throat, his hands slapping the desk, shaking some of the papers on top of it. He looked entirely too amused by the whole thing, and Julian raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to get himself together.
“Maybe I should go into a career in comedy if I’m that funny,” Julian commented, dryly. “Why is the prospect of my death amusing?”
“It’s not,” Milo replied, traces of laughter still in his voice. “But the idea that you think I would kill you is… for one, it would be obvious that it’s me.”
Julian blinked. “That didn’t sound very convincing.”
Milo shrugged. “You can stand if you want, but we do have to talk about Olive. We can’t keep circling the topic.”
Julian cleared his throat. “I’m listening.”
“Whiskey?” Milo offered, opening up a drawer underneath his desk and holding up the bottle, invitingly.
“That I will drink,” Julian said, relaxing slightly. “Olive is beautiful, isn’t she?”
Milo nodded. “She is and that’s why we need to talk about what we’re going to do.”
He poured a generous amount into a glass and slid it over the table, waiting till Julian picked up his glass to hold his up and take a large sip, grimacing slightly.
“Nothing like a good strong scotch.”
“Nice vintage too,” Julian agreed, leaning back in his chair. “So, what’s the plan?”
6
Olive
Olive ran her hands over the black dress that fell just above her knees and twisted to and fro, critically appraising her body from every angle, wondering if the color was a bit too much with her particular shade of hair.
Like most redheads, she’d grown up hating the fiery locks atop her head, and all the stereotypes associated with it. In fact, it had taken many attempts at bleaching, cutting and dying her hair in order for her to come to terms with it.
Still, she’d gone through most of the colors on the spectrum before she realized that she genuinely enjoyed it, much to her surprise. It was the freckles sprinkled over her nose that still annoyed here, but she was learning to embrace them too.
Like every woman in the world, she had insecurities, little voices of doubt inside her head making her doubt her worth, scrutinizing every insecurity till it was blown out of proportion, and there were days when she successfully managed to tell them off, and days when she fell prey.
Today was not going to be one of those days, not if she could help it.
After all, she was twenty minutes away from going on a date with a good-looking man who also happened to be funny. Granted, she’d half expected Julian to call too, given that he hadn’t made his crush on her a secret, but her phone stayed suspiciously quiet, with only a brief text with the location of the restaurant lighting up her screen.
Yet, it was probably for the best because she had no idea who she liked better anyway, nor should she, considering the circumstances. Besides, she wasn’t entirely sure what the whole scene with Milo and Julian was about, facing off against each other like they were in some kind of competition, but she didn’t like it.
Casual dating was one thing.
Getting caught up in whatever issues they had was another, and she’d seen enough, little glimpses during her brief hour to know that she needed to get the hell out of dodge when it came to the two of them.
Separated, on the other hand.
Olive gave her head a slight shake, running her fingers through her thick and unruly locks, cursing under her breath when she realized she didn’t have enough time to blow dry her hair.
Air dry would just have to do.
Hastily, she snatched a pair of gold pumps and slipped them on, giving a small pirouette in the mirror, her lips twitching in amusement. In the next second, she snatched her purse, her coat and burst out the door, her heart skittering around inside her chest.
She pushed the double doors open and spilled out onto the street, the fluorescent lights above casting shadows across the pavement. Her fingers curved around her mouth, and she whistled, managing to hail a cab on her first try.
With few other cars out on the street, the driver moved at a steady pace, both hands on the wheel and eyes fixed on the road ahead. She sank back into the chairs and clasped her fingers together, trying to push away the nervous energy.
Get a grip. You’ve been on dates with rich, good looking men before. I doubt Milo is any different.
Except already she could tell that he was, and it was all because he stuttered in her presence, stumbling to form a complete sentence, something a man like him shouldn’t have trouble with.
All too soon, they pulled up outside the address, and she peered out, pressing her face to the glass curiously. The building itself looked nondescript, with hardly anything to distinguish it from its surroundings; no pulsing neon lights or flashing signs, or a long line with bouncers.
In fact, it didn’t even look like anything was there, save for a residential building. She frowned and looked down at her phone, confirming that she was in the right place. Finally, she shrugged, handed the man his money and stepped out, tilting her head uncertainly.
Well, it was unlikely that he lured her here to kill her, but the thought did quickly flash across her mind, and she tightened her grip on her purse, relaxing when she heard the familiar rattle of the mace, comforting and reassuring.
Once she stepped through the door, she reached out her hand, parted the beaded curtains and blinked rapidly, surprised at the sudden dim lighting. All the tables around her was on the floor, with bean bags instead of chairs, with the staff dressed casually and only a purple colored tie to distinguish them from any guests.
Next to the entrance was a man standing behind a podium, with a small book laid out ahead of him. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and looked up, smiling when he noticed her.
“Um, hi. Table under the name Underwood?” Olive asked, doubtfully.
Maybe she was in the wrong place.
The young man skimmed through the pages, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth before his eyes lit up, and he nodded, gesturing for her to follow him. Quietly, she matched his pacing, sneaking glances at the rectangular shaped cloths, and the mood music coming out of the speakers.
All in all, it felt more like some kind of yoga studio than a restaurant, especially with the smell of incense and spices lingering in there. Olive faltered and did a double take, stunned to see that Milo had company.
Julian sat there too, dressed similarly to Milo in dark jeans and a button-down shirt.
The two of them together made a devilishly handsome pair, almost too much for Olive to bear, and she took a seat, slightly dazed, the carpet
ripped out from underneath her.
“Hi,” Olive greeted, staring at one man than the other.
“We were worried you’d gotten lost,” Milo said, offering her a big smile. “I’m glad you weren’t.”
“Do you like Indian food?” Julian asked.
Olive nodded, dumbly. “Uh, yeah, I do actually.”
“Good. Do you mind if we order? We’re starved,” Milo said, apologetically.
Olive shook her head and flipped the menu shut, brows furrowed together. “Okay, what’s happening? Because I’m pretty sure this isn’t normal.”
“You want to cut right to the chase?” Milo asked, raising an eyebrow.
He shared a quick look with Julian then leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. “What do you think is happening?”
“Honestly? I have no fucking clue because when I saw you guys two days ago, you looked like you were about to launch at each other or something.”
Looking at them now, laughing and relaxed, she was hard pressed to think of why. This whole thing was bizarre, like stepping into some alternate dimension.
“You’re right,” Julian agreed, reaching for his drink. “We were.”
“And?” Olive prompted. “Are we all going to sing kumbaya now? Is this some kind of apology dinner?”
Truthfully, she didn’t want it to be some kind of pity dinner where the two of them apologized for acting weird, treating her to a nice meal and then were done with it.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to play out.
Damn it.
She reached for her wine and took a long sip. “Because you don’t owe me anything. In fact, if that’s what this is about then I can just save you both some time and energy and leave.”
Milo reached for her hand as did Julian, two pairs of eyes boring into hers.
“Look, the truth is we both want you,” Julian blurted out, shrugging when Milo shot him a dirty look.
“Way to be subtle,” Milo muttered.
“She doesn’t like bullshit, so let’s give her the truth,” Julian countered. “And we talked about it.”
Olive reeled back. “Uh, okay?”
Underneath the table, she pinched herself slightly, unsure of where this was going and with no freaking clue either. Were they about to declare some kind of dating war?
“We’d both like to date you,” Milo added. “Look, I know you think this sounds insane, but we talked about it, and it’s the only thing we can agree on, actually. At the end of the day, it’s up to you, but we really hope you’ll say yes.”
“You want me to date you? Separately?” Olive repeated, confused. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“Not necessarily separately,” Julian commented, dark eyes sparkling. “We mean the both of us at the same time.”
Olive leaned back, slipping off her coat and removing her hair from the back of her neck. The energy in the room had taken on another dimension, a life of its own practically, and she fanned herself, reaching for another sip of wine.
“Yes, that includes sex,” Milo added, casually.
Olive sputtered, wine spilling down the side of her face. She reached for her napkin and dabbed, her eyes swinging back and forth like a pendulum, trying to gauge their seriousness.
What the fuck?!
She was being propositioned by two men?
Things like this just didn’t happen, especially not to her, and while a part of her was flattered, immensely considering the two fine specimens before her, but she was already incredibly conflicted.
“You’ve never considered it before, have you?” Julian asked, knowingly.
“I can’t say that I have,” Olive answered, weakly. “You’re both okay with this?”
“Yeah, we are. Look, you can try it out, and if you don’t like it, we can all just walk away, no harm, no foul.”
Shit.
Olive was intrigued, more than she wanted to be, and her legs tightened in response. At the very least, it solved the dilemma of having topic, and if they are all consenting adults who enjoyed it then where was the harm in it?
“Okay,” Olive responded, eyeing them both over the rim of her glass.
What was that lyric from that song?
Double the pleasure, double the fun.
Olive moaned as Julian pushed her up against the wall, his mouth hot and searing against hers. Behind her, Milo cupped his hands around her breasts, snaking underneath the V neck and flicking the nipples expertly.
Reluctantly, Julian moved back, leading her to the bed. She landed on it with a soft thud and watched as both men undressed, stripping slowly, so she could see their muscles gleam and ripple, the back of her mouth going dry.
Milo crawled on top the bed and helped her out of her clothes while Julian waited patiently, stroking himself, his eyes darkening with desire. Olive was on fire, every inch of her body was electric, ready to burst at the smallest of touches.
With the three of them completely naked, she glanced back and forth uncertainly, not knowing what to do next. Julian sensed her hesitation and held out his hand, drawing her up, his mouth claiming hers once more.
Gently, he pushed her shoulders, and she acquiesced, lowering herself to her knees, at eye level with his bulging member. Her tongue darted out to lick her dry lips, and he gripped the back of her neck, guiding her to him.
She felt Milo’s body brush against hers, reaching down to lift up her ass, so she was on her hands and knees, facing Julian. Comprehension dawned on her, and she took Julian into her mouth, sucking and licking, growing wetter by the minute as she watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, his hands cupping her breasts.
All at once, Milo slid himself into her from behind, and she tensed, unused to the familiar sensation. She wrapped her hands around Julian’s legs for support and whimpered, a soft little panting noise that had both men groaning in response.
“You’re so wet,” Milo commented. “Just relax for me, okay?”
“Let go,” Julian instructed, tilting her head up to look at him, the desire swirling in his eyes too much as she started to move her mouth, signaling Milo to start thrusting in and out.
Together, the three of them drove each other to the brink of pleasure, sucking, licking and biting, skin slapping against skin echoing in Julian’s bedroom, magnified as it came back to them, driving them wild with desire.
Olive trembled, drawing her mouth away from Julian who was breathing heavily, and her entire body convulsed, spasming as wave after wave of pleasure tore through her. She fell forward, slick with sweat as Milo continued to thrust, grunting as he emptied himself in her then drew out.
Holy fucking shit. I’m never going back.
7
Milo
He had no idea what was happening, but he felt like a hormonal teenager all over again, barely able to keep his hands to himself where Olive was concerned. Granted, this wasn’t a typical high school romance, not even close, but their arrangement worked.
Mostly because the two of them were crazy about Olive, and neither of them were willing to give up, and in that space, they’d reached an understanding. The past three weeks had been spent coming up with boundaries and discovering what worked and what didn’t.
To her credit, Olive, who was completely inexperienced didn’t seem fazed at all, going with the flow as best as she could and asking a shit-ton of questions, her curiosity rarely satiated.
Neither was her body for that matter.
In the beginning, Milo worried that the two of them combined would wear her out, but man did she know how to hold her own, her body a temple he worshipped at, over and over, her energy depleting after hours of fucking.
Milo was impressed.
He’d been with many women before, but none of them were like Olive, couldn’t even hold a torch where she was concerned, and he considered himself to be lucky. As she sat next to them in the dark movie theater, Milo was barely able to keep his hands to himself, snaking them under the thin fabric
of her shirt, goosebumps breaking out across her flesh.
On the other side, Julian had his hands down her pants, his fingers moving deftly. Olive bit down hard on her bottom lip, the glow from the screen illuminating her features, contorted in pleasure.
She shared a long look with both of them, and in the next minute, they burst out of the movies, laughing drunkenly as Julian hailed a cab, and they all piled in, the anticipation sky rocketing as she touched them both.
Milo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he gritted his teeth as the cab dropped them in front of the apartment building. In the elevator, Olive draped herself against him while Julian fondled her from the back, the undercurrent between them palpable and sensual.
Suddenly, the elevator jolted to a halt, and they stumbled out, their clothes flying everywhere. Milo reached for Olive, grabbing a fistful of her hair as he tilted her head to the side and plunged his tongue into hers, beginning a sensual battle for dominance.
She whimpered and tilted her neck, allowing him better access as he maneuvered them backwards, her feet hitting the back of the couch. She sank into it, her hands impatiently tugging on his shirt before she threw it and reached for his jeans, yanking them down.
Julian approached, but she held up her hands, signaling the both of them stop. Milo drew back confused.
“I’m going to touch myself,” Olive announced, her voice a breathless whisper. “And the two of you are going to watch.”
Milo swallowed, standing a few feet away from Julian whose eyes hardly left her face. She lowered her fingers, spreading her legs open before she plunged in, throwing her head back and letting out a loud moan.
Fuck.
It took every ounce of energy for him to stand still, to keep himself from launching himself at her and thrusting inside, burying himself so deep that she wouldn’t be able to tell where he began, and she ended.
Blazing: A Billionaire Boys MFM Menage novel Page 4