The Playboy's Ménage (The Billionaire Bachelors Series) (5 page)

Peter caressed the wooden arch of the chair he was straddling, already imagining her under his hands. “Do you think she’ll have us recount our personal experiences in detail? Maybe we could start with the time I met you at your hotel room and found two naked women and four men sprawled across your bed? I spent hours trying to mentally rebuild
that
particular Jenga tower, I can tell you. And then, to be fair, we can recount my recent fetish for twins.”

Holly surprised him by chuckling. “Are you trying to shock me, Peter Faraday? I told you neither one of you have many secrets left. My neighbor knows juicier tidbits about your sex lives. But if we’re swapping stories, I have one of a beautiful Audrey Hepburn lookalike who did lovely things to me with her tongue while her husband watched. And no, I won’t go into detail. Your turn.”

Peter’s fingers tightened on the chair until his knuckles went white and he felt all the blood rush to his cock. Audrey Hepburn and Holly. Now there was a fantasy that instantly went to the top of his list. She was good at this, knew just what to say to throw him off his game. Why was he surprised? “Did you know about that too, Henry?”

He saw his friend reach for the bottle and bring it to his lips. He’d obviously decided the glass wouldn’t be enough. When he was done taking several long swallows, he lowered the bottle and shook his head. “Hell no, man, I swear. I don’t think I could have kept that to myself without having a stroke.” He wiped his mouth, watching Holly as if she’d suddenly turned into a cobra…or a porn star. Peter couldn’t tell if he was shocked or impressed. He was betting on impressed. “But I do know she doesn’t do interviews. Not in the traditional sense. She works for her intel. If she’s writing about dog grooming, she grooms dogs, etcetera. And she’s thorough. Three months per research project.”

“Henry Vincent.”

Peter smiled at the way Holly said Henry’s name. “That
is
thorough.”

Her fingers were tapping out a soft tune against the glass she was holding, signaling her discomfort to anyone paying attention. Were they making her nervous?

“Three months for a career project,” she corrected. “For a single chapter? I rarely spend more than a few days. Otherwise I’d never get any actual writing done. It’s nothing that would take too much time away from anyone’s schedule.”

Were her words meant to assuage their concerns or hers? It was a fabrication, her research request. Everyone in this room knew she had experienced at least one ménage. Knew she hadn’t forgotten.

Audrey Hepburn’s tongue. Jesus.

Peter was more than willing to go along with the charade, but she didn’t get to set the terms. He would need more than a few days to get what he wanted.

“This isn’t exactly a simple research request, Holly. Three months
might
be enough to cover the basics. We do all have previous experience with the topic, which is a plus, but if you want to be thorough—and I know you do—we’ll need to put in the time.” Her lips parted and he hid his pleasure at her reaction. “I’m sure Henry wouldn’t mind using my place as home base for the duration. His city apartment is too small, and his family’s home is far too crowded for what you have in mind.”

“Sounds good to me,” Henry agreed, wisely without any hesitation. “In fact, I could say you took the words right out of my mouth. I’m in.”

“I had a feeling you would be.” Peter tilted his head, as if considering. “I had a few projects of my own planned for the summer, but nothing that can’t be rescheduled or worked around. When would you like to start?”

She frowned in confusion and Peter wanted to laugh. Her provocative offer had gotten away from her, the situation swiftly morphing into more than she’d expected.

“I think we got our wires crossed somewhere,” she muttered.

He got up from his chair and walked over to hers, dropping to his knees and placing his hands on her calves to uncross her legs. “Not at all, Holly. We understand each other perfectly. You requested our services for your research, and you were right to do so. Not to brag, but I can’t think of two men better qualified to give you exactly what you need.”

She bit her lip when his hands reached her thighs, pulling her to the edge of her chair, closer to him. “I suppose we could drag you to the floor and take you right now. Henry and I could spend the rest of the evening refreshing your memory, making you scream so loudly you wake your neighbors.” He tugged on her shorts. “I could have this off you in less than a minute and bury my face between your thighs until you forget all about Audrey. And I’m sure Henry would love to find out if you’re still as talented with your mouth as we both remember.”

Henry’s groan merged with Holly’s. Peter understood exactly what he was doing, how much harder he was making it—and himself—by continuing, but he couldn’t back down now. He wouldn’t. “There are so many things we could do to you, Holly, and if you’d just asked us for sex—for a walk down memory lane—that’s what you would have gotten. But you didn’t.”

“She didn’t?” Henry swore again from his perch on the couch.

“No. She didn’t,” Peter assured him with an undercurrent of warning. “Holly said it herself. We have well-deserved reputations. This is an opportunity to put all the knowledge we’ve accumulated to the best possible use. By the time the summer is over, Holly will have enough material to write a definitive work on the subject. Three months of graphic, hands-on empirical data she will never forget, as long as we do it right. We’ll have to be discreet, in our pal Tracy’s full meaning of the word, but I think it’s the least we can do for our old friend from college, don’t you?”

“The very fucking least.”

Holly shifted in her seat at Henry’s response, her hands clutching her drink to her chest as if it were a protective talisman. “Three months is kind of a big commitment for the two of you, isn’t it?” she asked hesitantly, still unsure of his motives. “Considering those reputations, are you sure about that timeline?”

“Do you still want us, Holly?” She gasped and his grip tightened on her legs. “You said you wanted our help. If you truly do, this is one of my conditions.”

He heard Henry get up off the couch and move toward them. “Not to barge into these fascinating negotiations, Peter, but I have a suggestion.”

“Yes?”

“I think she needs a sample. It
has
been a while, and an incentive might remind her how qualified we are.”

Peter’s smile was hard as he picked Holly up into his arms and followed Henry toward the only hallway in the house. “I’ll give you that one. This plan I like.”

Henry found her bedroom and Peter carried her through the door. He could feel her watching him and he forced himself to stay in control.

“Just a sample, Henry,” he warned. “No one gets more than that until we’ve come to an agreement.”

He set her on the bed, and when her head touched her pillow, she caught his eye. “You’re bossier than I remembered. I like it.”

“You have no idea.” He gripped her wrists and took her arms off his shoulders, placing them above her head. “You are also entirely too relaxed. Don’t lower your hands, Holly. Not unless you want us to stop.”

Her eyes widened and she looked down toward the foot of the bed as Henry took off her flats, undid her shorts and dragged them down her legs. “Okay,” she whispered. “You mentioned conditions. Plural. Other than the time limit, what are they?”

Peter wanted to respond but found himself distracted by the small skulls and hearts on her underwear. “Henry…”

“Her shirt. I’m on it.” His friend’s rasp was more pronounced and Peter knew the restraint was difficult for him. Henry wasn’t used to delayed gratification. Not anymore.

“No,” Peter replied softly. “Leave her shirt on this time. You haven’t kissed her yet.”

“I haven’t, have I?” Henry tore off his own shirt, toed off his heavy boots and crawled onto the bed beside Holly with a playful, impatient smile. “I need to fix that. Hello again, Holly.”

“Hello, Henry.”

Peter watched Holly grip the base of her headboard when Henry lowered his mouth to hers. They both melted into the kiss and he clenched his fists, torn as he’d always been between satisfaction at their acquiescence and determination to ensure no one forgot his presence. He walked around to the end of the bed and lowered himself slowly between her legs.

This bed wasn’t big enough for the three of them. One more excuse to get her back to his place as soon as possible. But first they had to convince her.

He looked down at her underwear, his lips quirking at the ridiculous design before he dipped his head, gripped the fabric in his teeth and tugged.

Holly’s moan was muffled by Henry’s kiss. Peter looked up and saw his friend’s hand cupping her breast and, not to be outdone, Peter pushed the fabric to the side and traced the lips of her sex with his tongue.

She was sweeter than he remembered. So good he forgot about everything else and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Holly’s taste. He reached up to spread her thighs wider, groaning while his tongue slowly thrust inside her tight heat. Jesus, he’d missed this. She was already so wet and he was hungrier than he’d thought possible. After all this time she still got to him more than any woman ever had. She only had to breathe to seduce him. Only had to gasp at the touch of his lips on her and he was ready to explode. He’d meant to tease, to play with her until she was desperate. He knew what she liked, remembered every climax and where she loved to be touched. But now all he could think of was getting deeper. Taking more.

He pressed his erection hard into the mattress and started to fuck her with his tongue. No gentle foreplay. No tender exploration. It had been too long and he wanted to hear her scream.

Her hips lifted against his mouth and he could taste her arousal on his tongue. He was forcing himself to remember the plan with every second that passed, knowing it was important.
The plan.
A sample and nothing more. Not until she agreed. Not until he had her where he wanted her.

Yes. More.

Holly couldn’t think. Could hardly breathe. Henry was making love to her mouth, his beard scratching her chin and cheeks in a way that only made her wonder how it would feel on her breasts and between her thighs. His fingers were caressing her breasts, teasing her by dragging the fabric of her shirt over her hard nipples.

And Peter. Oh God, Peter was doing things to her with his tongue that made her want to scream. They were here. Both of them touching her, giving her what she’d imagined so many times since they’d been together.

She wanted to lower her hands and grip Peter’s hair until she came against his lips. Wanted to unzip Henry’s jeans and wrap her fingers around the thick erection she could feel against her hip until he agreed to give her more than a sample, but she knew if she did they would stop. She needed them inside her with an urgency that was almost frightening. Needed it badly enough that she was close to agreeing to anything.

Conditions.

She groaned and turned her head, pulling away from Henry’s kiss to gasp, “Peter. Oh fuck, Peter, that feels— What are the conditions?”

For a minute she wasn’t sure he heard her, and the things he was doing didn’t make her want to repeat the question. She was close. She could come like this, with Henry against her and Peter’s tongue… “God, that’s good. Don’t stop. Peter, don’t stop.”

“Tell her the damn conditions, Dick.” Henry’s cheeks were flushed above his beard as he stared at his hand squeezing her breast. “Tell her before I forget why we started this and take matters into my own hands.”

Peter’s tongue stilled and Holly swore under her breath, her body already begging for his return.
Don’t stop, damn it.

He lifted his head and she could see the blue of his eyes burning up at her. He wanted this too. As much as she did. Why were they both being so damn stubborn?

He licked his lips and she shivered. “Conditions. Three months. You stay with us until our time is up and allow me to set the pace without argument. We need to relearn this body so we can give you the perfect ménage for your research. A
memorable
ménage.”

She shook her head and lifted her hips again, silently begging. “You don’t need to learn anything. Trust me, everything you’re doing feels exactly right.”

He narrowed his gaze. “I won’t agree to anything less, Holly. Those are my rules.”

There was a small but adamant voice in her head telling her to run away as fast as she could. Four nights with Peter and Henry in college had been unforgettable. Three months could ruin her forever.

She wanted him to stop talking and touch her again. Wanted to take back her request for research and beg them to fuck her. Wasn’t that what she’d been going for in the first place, satisfying her curiosity and desire? They were grown, sexually active adults. There was no reason they couldn’t scratch this one itch.

But she knew one time wouldn’t be enough. Not for her.

But what he was suggesting might be. No landmine of choices to make, no fragile, youthful hearts that needed protecting—no chance of falling in love when you started with a time limit. Enough time that she might finally be able to get them out of her system. One summer with the two men she’d never forgotten sounded too good to be true.

How could she say no to that? Why would she want to?  She looked away from Peter and up at Henry. In all the time they’d been talking to each other, he’d never asked for more. For anything like this. Not once. Had his feelings for her changed, or had it been about Peter? Had he been waiting for him, the same way she had? For their group to be complete? “Is this what you want?”

His smile made her heart flutter. Damn he was handsome. “How can you doubt it? I want you. I think you can feel how much. And you know we can give you what you need. Say yes, Holly.”

She arched her back in reaction to his words, pressing her breast harder against Henry’s hand, and his smile disappeared. “Peter? Can she come if she says yes?”

Peter pinched her clit with his fingers, just enough to make her inhale sharply in surprise and look back down at him. “No. She can come when she walks through my front door with her luggage and her answer.”