The Playboy's Ménage (The Billionaire Bachelors Series) (7 page)

She hadn’t told Chaz where she was going, despite his wide-eyed curiosity when the Hummer pulled up in front of her house at eleven-thirty in the morning.

Henry had warned her Peter might send ninjas…he hadn’t mentioned the possibility of Roy.

She guessed she wouldn’t be needing her car for this project.

“Nice to see you again, Holly Ruskin.” He smiled as he helped her into the homage to indulgence. “I would ask what adventure you’re off to this time, but I hear you’re doing research on the old Faraday estate. I’m here to help if you need any details. It’s the oldest mansion in the state, you know. I had a great-aunt who worked there years ago, said she needed a map just to find her way around the house.”

Holly nodded weakly. “I’ve heard it’s big.”

“Big?” Roy lifted her luggage into the limo with her. “Big is a wee bit of an understatement. Can’t imagine one man living there by himself, to be honest. I guess that’s why Mr. Faraday is always traveling.” He laughed at himself. “But if I ever stop talking and do my job instead, you’ll see it soon enough. Speaking of, I do need to hurry. This beauty is on loan to Mr. Warren for at least the next week or so, and me with it.”

He closed the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts—the last place she wanted to be.

After they left her last night, Holly had gone through her closet with the ferocity of a tornado, packing and preparing, too excited to think about what the next day would bring. It was only when her head hit the pillow that her mind caught up with her. Thinking had swiftly led to panic when she realized how much could go wrong in three months.

If it really lasted that long.

None of them were models of commitment when it came to relationships with the opposite sex. As far as Holly knew, neither man had shown interest in a single woman long enough for her to be loosely dubbed by the press as a girlfriend. Not since college.

How had they not been taken off the market by an enterprising bride-to-be?

Henry was loving, thoughtful, affectionate and funny. He knew about the importance of family, and his parents had given him an unorthodox but positive example of marital longevity. He’d spent most of his adult life traveling with his band or hanging out with his friends, but it still didn’t make sense that he would be alone.

Peter was brilliant and focused, intriguing and exciting—loving him would be a romantic adventure for the right woman. Holly knew his parents had died when he was a teenager and he didn’t have any extended family. He was never lacking in temporary companionship, but she couldn’t help but think he was lonely. It was a shame because if she remembered anything about their time together, other than the earth-shattering sex, it was his heart. He should be filling all those rooms with a family of his own by now, continuing the Faraday name and living happily ever after. Should be, but he wasn’t.

And you’re glad.

It was a selfish feeling, but that was nothing new when it came to these men. Even if she couldn’t be what either of them deserved in the long term, she still wanted them too much to walk away from this chance. Not when the chemistry between them was as combustible as ever.

Greedy.

Holly leaned her head back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. They might act the part of perennial bachelors, but she was the real thing. She wasn’t meant for a happy ending. She honestly wasn’t sure if that kind of forever was meant for everyone, since she could count on one hand the couples she knew who’d managed to beat the odds and stay together.

Her mother used to tell her that an entire relationship could be experienced within the first three months of meeting. The honeymoon phase, a short period of intimacy and cohabitation, and the pressure and resentment that came from what she called the boring inevitable—all of it until two and a half months in, you could see your entire life with that person mapped out ahead of you. Each and every monotonous day until you finally reached the end, having no clue why you’d fallen for each other in the first place. She’d said in that moment you had to choose whether to accept that fate or reach for something new and shimmering. And she always chose the something new. Her mother loved falling in love even more than she loved the money her new husbands brought with them, and she
really
loved the money.

While Holly had long since parted ways with the woman she’d never been able to respect, the woman whose seventh husband had lost all his money in the stock market a few years ago, that nugget of information had remained lodged in the back of her mind, and so far it had proven true. She didn’t need a psychiatrist to see the correlation between her work habits and her mother’s advice. A shrink would have a field day with her three-month Mommy issues, but it was true in her personal life as well. None of her boyfriends after college had lasted more than a few weeks beyond that. She’d tried, if only to prove her mother wrong, to stick a relationship out for six months or a year, but in the end, the timing was always eerily similar. And she’d always ended up hurting someone she didn’t mean to.

It wouldn’t happen this time. They were all on the same deliciously dirty page, and all she had to do was relax and go with it.

So why couldn’t she?

She fiddled with the pleats in her skirt. She’d worn one of her favorite sundresses, a white halter top with a flaring skirt and heart shaped bodice. It was covered in cherries that matched her red pumps and lip-gloss perfectly. The dress was her armor, making her feel sexy and confident and ready for whatever they wanted to throw at her.

As soon as you come to us, you’ll come for us.

Holly was ready to come now. She hadn’t given in last night. Hadn’t used her vibrator and butt plug to ease the tension they’d left her with, though no one would ever know how badly she’d wanted to. So badly she’d woken in the middle of her restless night to find her pillow between her legs, her thighs squeezing it in desperation.

She glanced at the blackened window that kept Roy from seeing her and let her hand glide under her dress, remembering her dreams. Peter and Henry had her arms and legs spread and shackled, each of them taking turns bringing her a heartbeat away from climax, only to leave her unsatisfied. They’d been heartless, sexy machines, ignoring her pleas in order to punish her for walking away. The things they’d done to her body had her sobbing, begging for release.

She closed her thighs over her hand and rubbed her clit through her underwear. “Peter,” she whispered. “Let me come.”

As soon as you come to us, you’ll come for us. 

Not until then. Some part of her knew he wouldn’t like it if she cheated by reaching her climax without them. Even this quick—
oh God
—moment of pleasure wouldn’t be allowed. She stopped, her body shaking and her nerves frayed, and removed her hand. She’d wait. She didn’t seem to have another choice.

The limo stopped and Holly didn’t wait for the door to open before hopping out and reaching for one of her bags. She blushed when the driver got out and came to stand beside her. She couldn’t believe she’d been so shameless. But realistically, Roy had to be used to things like that by now. This was Henry Vincent’s driver. She’d be shocked if the famous guitar player hadn’t had Hummer orgies. At the very least.

Instead of calming her desires, the thought actually made her more impatient to get to Henry and Peter. Made her think about sex with them in the limo.

She was twisted.

“In a hurry yourself, I see. Mr. Vincent told me how much you loved your job.” Roy was grinning when he pulled out her other bags and set them down beside her. “This is where we part, Ms. Ruskin. Mr. Vincent wants to bring your things in himself so he can show you around. I get the feeling I’m not invited.”

He tilted his driver’s cap and got back into the Hummer, and she watched him drive away before she turned to face Peter’s house.

She stepped back instinctively and her throat started to close. This wasn’t a big house. Not even a mansion. This was the set of a sweepingly epic historical…or a horror movie. The sound of organ music or thunder rolling in at any minute wouldn’t surprise her.

It was beautiful craftsmanship. Three stories and possibly two city blocks worth of beautiful. There were even—she squinted her eyes as she looked up at the awnings—yep. Gargoyles. She knew the Faradays had been rich since the states were colonies, but she hadn’t been able to wrap her head around what that meant until this moment. The Hummer was child’s play. This estate was Jane Austen’s Pemberley, complete with a brooding hunk in residence.

This
was where Peter grew up?

She looked back down the long road they called a driveway again, thinking she could still flag Roy down. Her feet weren’t getting cold…they were frozen.

“Holly.” Henry jogged down the steps as she turned, a wicked smile on his face. “We were wondering when you were going to show up.”

Too late to run. Holly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, choosing to ogle his rippling biceps instead of looking back at the haunted mansion. “No ninjas required. Hey, are you sure we don’t want to go back to my place? I have electricity and running water and I’m pretty sure it’s ghost-and gargoyle-free.”

He laughed, carrying her bags back up the stairs. “It’s an old monster, I know. Trust me, it’s better on the inside. He’s had so much work done in there you’ll think you’re at a four-star resort. There’s an indoor swimming pool and sauna, a gourmet kitchen, a living room you could go roller-skating in, and at least eight bedrooms…that I’ve seen. Hell, he even turned the basement into a fully equipped recording studio a few years back.  I have a feeling I’ll be using it before our research project is over.” He winked at her as they reached the door. “That dress is already doing things to inspire me.”

She reached out and put her hand on his strong forearm, the feel of his hot skin making her fingers tingle. “Before we go inside, I wanted you to know how great it’s been talking to you again. It meant a lot to me.”

Henry looked down at her arm and shook his head. “Working on your goodbye already, Betty? How about you open the door for me and give us all a chance to say a proper hello?”

She opened the door and followed him inside. “I was only trying to—”

“Holly. Finally.” She saw a flash of dark blue eyes and a smile before Peter had her pressed up against the wall beside the door, kissing her until her toes started to curl. She could feel his impatience, his arousal, and it fueled hers. This was what she’d been dying for since last night.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she moaned into his mouth when his hand slipped beneath her skirt and caressed her inner thighs as she’d been doing only moments before. This was so much better. His touch.
Yes.
She lifted her leg and wrapped her calf around his, opening herself up for him, inviting him to take more.

Peter lifted his mouth with a growl. “You’re soaking wet, Holly. Did you come before you got here?”

“No. I wanted to but…no.”

“Are you willing to agree to my conditions?”

Holly bit her lip when his knuckles pressed teasingly against her clit. “Damn, I like the way you say hello. And I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Say it, Holly.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “I agree. Three months and you set the pace. I’m your willing research slave.”

She felt the pull and heard the rip as he tore her underwear and let it drop at it her feet. “That’s good. Exactly what I needed to hear. Now I can welcome you properly.”

“Thank God.”

Peter Faraday was a danger to her equilibrium.

He kissed her again, tangling his tongue with hers in a dance that made her wild. His hand was cupping and massaging her sex, his fingers slipping through her arousal as she pushed herself against him greedily. This was crazy. What she was feeling, it was too much. Last night he’d kissed her and it was like something had turned on inside her that she couldn’t turn off. Didn’t want to turn off.

All she could think about was Peter inside her. Henry and Peter taking her. She wanted him. His fingers. His tongue. His cock. She slid her hand down his chest toward his pants but he caught her wrist in a firm grip.

“No, Holly. We’re going to make you come for us first.” His skin was flushed with desire, his eyes narrow as he pulled back to study her. “Henry? I got my kiss last night, now it’s your turn. Consider it payment for this morning’s revelations. Why don’t you give her the welcome she deserves?”

Peter moved to her side and she looked away from him in time to see Henry dropping to his knees in front of her, the sunlight shining in from the open door and glinting in his sable hair.

Oh God, the door was still open and she didn’t care. She knew what Henry was going to do, what she needed him to do, and she didn’t want to stop it.

“Did I mention I love this dress?” Henry murmured, lifting up the skirt until he could see her bare skin. “Jesus, Holly, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Sweet black curls and pink skin begging for my tongue. Will you hold this for me so I can have a taste?”

She held the skirt and whimpered in surprise when Henry lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and leaned in. Peter wrapped his arm around her, holding her steady against the wall as Henry groaned and opened his mouth on her sex, his tongue curling around her clit, his beard scratching her sensitive lips in a way that made her shudder.

“Fuck.”

“That’s what you get when you dress like dessert and offer yourself to two starving men.” Peter’s voice was deeper. Turned on. “You make us want what’s under the frosting even more.”

“Food again,” she gasped. “You two and your—
oh God, Henry
.”

“Can you blame us, Holly? You are delicious.” Peter reached behind her neck and untied her halter-top, dragging the fabric down to the snug high waist. “You’re… Fuck, Holly it’s been too long since I’ve seen you like this outside of my dreams. Would you like to know how often I’ve dreamt about these breasts? What I’ve done to them in my mind?”