The Playboy's Ménage (The Billionaire Bachelors Series) (12 page)

“I am hungry,” Henry assured her, stepping closer. “We both are.”

Her smile grew. “Good. Because I packed everything we’d need, including condoms, in case anyone’s wondering. Now all you have to do is catch me.”

Without another word she ran down the steps and around the house, and both of them moaned at the sight.

“Six weeks?” Peter muttered.

“Think fast, Dick.”

Henry started running and Peter swore, taking off after them. He caught up to her by the pond, picking her up and spinning her around as she laughed in delight.

He set her down as Henry caught up to them, swearing a blue streak. “You two are fast.”

Holly moved closer to him and caressed his arms. “Faster than you. All these sexy muscles are weighing you down.”

“Think they’re sexy, Betty?” Henry flexed playfully, wrapped his arms around her and cupped her ass in his hands. “Being slow did have a few perks. I had the best view.”

Peter saw relief flit briefly across her expression before she reached up to kiss Henry’s lips. She’d been worried he was upset with her. If she only knew the power she had over both of them. But now wasn’t the time to tell her.

It was the perfect time to show her.

“Is there a blanket in that backpack?”

Holly slowly ended the kiss and nodded. “A sheet. I took it off one of the guest beds.”

“That’ll work for Henry,” Peter said absently as he pulled the straps of her backpack down her arms and unzipped the bag. “His muscles will cushion him.”

Henry chuckled. “The boss is back.” He pulled Holly close again. “Sounds like you’re going for another ride.”

“I certainly hope so. I didn’t get all dressed up for a game of horseshoes.” Holly helped Henry out of his clothes while Peter spread the sheet over the grass, digging through the backpack for the box of condoms and using them to hold the cotton in place.

When he turned back around, Henry was kissing her again and she was kicking off her sneakers. She was so damn sexy. He had to get his hands on those pigtails. “Holly, let Henry lie down so you can give him a taste of your…picnic.”

She laughed against Henry’s lips and he pulled back to share a wicked smile. “I did mention I was hungry.”

Peter watched him lie back on the sheet and hold up his arms to guide Holly down until her knees were on either side of his head. Henry didn’t hesitate, his hands gripping her ass as he rocked her pussy against his mouth. Holly gasped and looked up at Peter with desire in her eyes.

He smiled. “I’m hoping you’re hungry too.” He tore off his shirt and reached for the zipper on his pants, stepping out of them before moving closer to her mouth.

Holly nodded, moaning. “Please.”

He guided the head of his erection to her lips, groaning when she opened her mouth and took him in. “That’s good, Holly. God, I’ll never get enough of your mouth.”

He stepped closer, watching her lips stretch around his cock as she took more of him, loving the vibration of her moans when Henry thrust his tongue deep inside her.

Peter gripped her hair in his hands and wrapped the strands around his fingers. “I caught you, baby,” he rasped. “We’re all going for a ride.”

Seeing the approval and need in her eyes, he growled, unable to stop himself from rocking his cock deeper into her mouth. She took everything, sucking him so hard he saw stars and swallowing when he hit the back of her throat.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby. Take it all. Suck my cock. Jesus, you’re driving me crazy, Holly. So good. So fucking good.”

Her muffled shout and the edge of her teeth scraping along his shaft made him groan, release his grip on her hair and pull out as Henry made her come.

“Oh God,” she cried. “
Yes
.”

Peter dragged her into his arms, though Henry resisted, and held her quaking body against his. “Condom, Henry. Now.”

“Damn it,” Henry snarled, sitting up and ripping open a foil packet with unsteady hands, rolling it onto his erection. “I’m still hungry.”

She shivered at that and Peter held her tighter. “I know the feeling.”

When Henry was ready Peter guided Holly back down to the ground, this time straddling his friend’s hips. Kneeling behind her, he whispered in her ear, “Take him, Holly. Take him so I can take you.”

“Yes,” she moaned, lowering herself onto Henry’s erection.

“Oh fuck, Betty,” he gasped. “You’re still coming. You feel fucking amazing.”

She nodded raggedly. “So do you.”

Peter reached for a condom, finding a bottle of lube in the backpack as well. “Smart girl.”

Wild girl. She was rolling her hips against Henry’s, bucking his hold when he tried to control her movements.

“If you don’t slow down, this will be over before Peter can join us, Betty.”

She stilled, trembling. “Peter needs to hurry.”

Peter smiled, his face tight with need. “Holly needs to listen or she might get spanked.”

Henry laughed. “She likes that idea, Peter. Not sure why we haven’t thought of it before.”

“Later,” Peter groaned, crawling between Henry’s legs and gripping her ass in his hand. “And you know I won’t forget.”

He poured the lube between her cheeks, rubbing it in sensually until she was pressing against his fingers. He couldn’t wait any longer, and then he was there, his cock pushing past the tight ring of muscles to feel that bruising grip he’d become addicted to. She was so tight.

“Oh my God,” she cried. “Oh my fucking God that’s—yes. Deeper. Fuck me de—”

Peter reached up and covered her mouth with his hand, the one slippery with lube digging into her hip to hold her close. “Baby, I can’t think of anything that gets me hotter than the sound of your screams. But out here, I don’t want to take the chance someone on the street will call the police and spoil our fun.” He pushed deeper inside her, making her groan against his hand. “Oh, that’s better. So good. And I know you like it. I saw your face that morning in bed when you and Henry thought I was sleeping.” He pulled back and thrust deep and both Henry and Holly moaned. “You like being a bad girl, don’t you? Like thinking you’re getting away with something. An outdoor ménage, where anyone walking buy could see my cock filling and stretching your sweet ass while Henry fucks your pussy.”

She was shouting against his palm, her hands covering his but not pulling it away.

“You love it, Holly. I know you do. I know what else you love.” His hand left her hip, trusting Henry to hold her as he reached up to cup her breast, squeezing her nipple hard between his fingers. She shuddered and Peter stopped talking.

He hoped that Henry could follow the pace he was setting, because he wasn’t sure he could stop. He loved her ass. Loved taking her like this.

Fuck, he loved her so damn much it was killing him not to tell her, killing him to hold back while he waited for her to come again.

“Jesus, that’s good,” Henry growled. “I can feel how wet you are. Take what you need, baby. Anything you need.”

She cried against Peter’s hand and he curled his body around hers, pumping faster, knowing she was close. Knowing he might scream himself if she didn’t come.

“Yes,” Henry moaned. “I’m coming with you, baby. Fuck.”

Peter closed his eyes and let it overtake him. The storm of fire and lightning, the shuddering thunder and howling winds. His body felt like it had been thrown against the rocks. Battered but victorious.

Home.

Six weeks. Five weeks, six days and seven hours to make her stay and get everything he’d ever wanted.

He hoped it was enough time.

Three weeks, six days and sixteen hours.

Peter opened his eyes and knew right away that something was wrong. Holly wasn’t in his arms and Henry wasn’t passed out on the other side of the bed. The sheets were cold.

He got up, went to the bathroom to splash water on his face and reached for the pants still crumpled on the floor, slipping them on before walking down the hall. It was too quiet. He hated the silence now more than ever. Two months had spoiled him forever. Laughter and screaming, the clattering of dishes or the sound of music—that was life to him. That was what made him happy.

And he had been happy. Maybe for the first time in his life.

“Holly?” he called down the stairs. “Henry?”

No one answered.

Where were they? He took the stairs two at a time and headed for the living room, looking for dishes or signs of life. “What the hell?”

They weren’t in the kitchen either.

Peter walked toward the front door, and that’s when he saw it. The envelope with his name and Henry’s scrawled in shaking script. It had already been opened.

He pulled out the folded piece of paper and saw what the envelope had been covering. A page from his sketchpad with an image of Holly’s profile and the question he’d written beside it months ago.

Ms. Anonymous?

“Fuck.” His heart started pounding, breaking, as he read the letter.

For Peter and Henry,

I thought writing would be the best way to do this, but now I’m not sure. How will you know by looking at a flat piece of paper that I’m sincere when I tell you that these were without question the best two months of my life? Being with you gave me more joy than I will ever be able to express. Everything was perfect, so perfect it scared me. Maybe that’s why my vain peek through Peter’s drawings last night had to happen, so I could remember that nothing is the fairytale we wish it could be. Fairytales are overrated anyway.

Don’t be upset, Peter. I don’t blame you at all for wondering. It makes sense that you would think I was Ms. Anonymous. For the record, I’m not, though I did discover a few weeks ago that one of my friends was a source for her column. In a way, you weren’t wrong to be suspicious.

Finding it did give me the push I needed to make my decision. Another month would only make this harder for me, and since it already feels impossible to walk out those doors, I don’t think I can keep my promise to stay.

What we have is special, but things like this don’t last. They can’t. I know I said this seventeen years ago, but it’s still the truth. I was lucky enough to know what it was like to love both of you, to know what it felt like to be yours. That’s more than most people get in a lifetime.

I hope you understand.

Holly

He crumpled the note in his hand and forced himself to keep breathing. He’d done this. One stupid question he hadn’t thought about since that conversation with Henry. He hadn’t fucking cared one way or the other.

She was gone again. Running again. Giving him the same bullshit line and disappearing from his life again.

Not this time. Peter wouldn’t let her go without telling her how he felt, how they both felt about her. There was no way in hell he was going to let this letter be their goodbye.

They all deserved better than that.

He looked for his keys but they weren’t where he’d left them. Peter heard his angry shout as if from a distance, watched himself throw the small table across the foyer. Saw the legs crack against the wall.

He studied the carnage and took a deep breath. Henry had taken his car, which was fine since he had three more in the garage, but it still felt good to break something.

He walked barefoot over the gravel and opened the garage, grabbing the first set of keys on the wall and climbing into the black jaguar. He turned on the music to drown out the silence, reminding himself not to speed, not to do anything that would delay seeing Holly face to face and making her look into his eyes and tell him what was between them wasn’t real.

Peter could feel himself wanting to shut down. The pain was too intense, bringing all his insecurities to the surface and making him want to run again. Logically, he knew this was about her issues, not his. Emotionally, he couldn’t help but wonder what there was about him that was unlovable. That ensured he would be alone.

Didn’t he show her how he felt? Had he done it wrong? He wasn’t as open as Henry. It wasn’t as easy for him to share his heart. But she’d seen that room. Been surrounding by the evidence of his emotions. Surely, she knew.

When he turned on her street, his bright yellow sports car was parked in front of her house. Peter parked beside it in the middle of the road. Let someone complain. He wanted them to. He’d never been in a street fight with hipsters before.

Her front door was open. As he walked toward it, the two men standing on the porch next door stared at him with matching expressions of shock and recognition. He looked down at himself, realizing for the first time that he was in nothing but a pair of wrinkled, unbuttoned pants.

“Fuck it,” he growled, not giving them a second thought as he walked up the steps.

He stopped before he went through the door. Henry was talking.

“I’m the one who suggested it, Holly. He didn’t believe it. Especially after I told him about your mother.”

He heard her gasp. “What the hell do you know about my mother, Henry?”

“Most of it,” he responded. “I know what happened right before winter break. I’ve heard things since, but that’s not important.”

“But it is.” Her voice was ragged with unshed tears. Peter wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her, then shake her until her teeth rattled for putting them through this. “Don’t you see it, Henry? Look at what I want. Not one man like a normal person.
Two
. My mother was never satisfied with any one man or any amount of money. And I haven’t been satisfied, either…not with any of the men I’ve dated.”

“You were satisfied with us.”

“For two months, with no obligations or awkward introductions or photographs of the three of us showing up in a magazine. It wasn’t real life.”

Peter had heard enough. He banged on the door as hard as he could and stepped back, looking over at Holly’s neighbors. “You know me?”

They nodded.

He forced his most charming smile in their direction. “I’m assuming from your interest that you’re friends with Holly and, I believe, one of you also knows Ms. Anonymous. Is that right? You can tell me. I’m unarmed. I’m not even wearing shoes.”