Resisting the Billionaire Collection (10 page)

The guy's butt was flexing and straining to
hold his brother in place and wrestle him down. Melanie imagined
that butt straining and flexing on top of her, digging deep within
her to find pleasure and satisfaction, thrusting, burrowing, and
pounding. Her breath became shorter as her finger slid lower
against the warm marble of his ass and then she found it, the tiny
mark that distinguished the identical twins. A tiny crescent shape
curved into his flank like the ranch brand of a prize animal.

She withdrew her finger and left the shorts
where they were, pulled half way down, her gaze, lingering,
hungering. Maybe it was the unfamiliarity, the humidity, the
disorientation, but she felt herself begin to pass out again and
instantly the wrestling match was over as both brothers leaped to
her aid.

One week later, Melanie was feeling a whole
lot better, although she had still not regained her memory. She
knew she was a flight attendant with Drummond Airlines and
according to the two handsome magazine models with her, they were
in fact the Drummond Brothers. Both of them were billionaires, if
she remembered correctly.

She was trapped on an island with two
billionaires, both of them young, apparently single, ripped,
tanned, and walking around bare-chested in shorts most of the
time.

It was hard to believe they were two
pampered rich kids. Looking at them, Melanie would have believed
wild animals on the island had raised them. Hunting and fishing
came naturally to them; although there wasn't much to kill on land,
there were plenty of fish in the lagoons and offshore. The first
day they had built effective lean-tos to keep them sheltered during
the night. They had built one each to give her privacy but when she
woke screaming with an island rodent staring her in the face and
stumbled through the moonlight into one of their quarters, they had
thought better of it and set to building a more permanent dwelling.
After all, they didn't know how long they were going to be out
there. It was better that they stick together. Still, they
struggled to give her privacy, constructing a room within the large
hut for her alone.

In the beginning, she had begun to panic
from the loss of memory and insecurity. But when the two men proved
more than capable of providing for her needs and then when supplies
and other useful things began to wash up on the shore, from the
plane wreck things almost became normal -- if it hadn't been for
the crazy two guy billionaires and one flight attendant
scenario.

Melanie tried to make herself as useful as
possible by barbecuing fresh fish and preparing meals from the
washed up supplies. There was plenty of vacuum-packed lobster tail
and pheasant for some reason and clearly, the men preferred one or
the other.

Still she couldn't tell them apart.

What was she supposed to do? Ask them to
pull their pants down to take a look at their asses whenever she
was in doubt? Not that she would have minded, but not the most
practical solution.

The sun was going down into a vast
rose-colored sea. Yet another indescribably beautiful sunset with
no cameras to waste time taking photos. She was getting used to
just existing and living in the moment, enjoying each subtle
pleasure of being alive. It was such a change from the constant
stress of her life in LA, running back and forth from one place to
another, dodging parking fines, struggling to pay her rent, trying
to stay one step ahead of constant jetlag, all while keeping her
horny passengers’ hands off her. In the reality she lived from
paycheck to paycheck, always thinking ahead to her next flight or
bills to pay.

Here, life was easy. Her two companions took
care of everything, the sun shone every day. All she had to do was
relax and prepare wonderful fresh meals of tropical fish and fruit
and let the sun turn her pale skin a golden brown.

Maybe I could live here forever. She
thought.

"It's breathtaking, isn't it?" Alex sat down
beside her. She had decided just to call both of them Alex because
it made things easier. The brothers had agreed that one of them,
the one with scar on his butt, would wear an armband made from a
strip of denim on his right arm to help her distinguish them. But
both of them insisted on being called Alex, which infuriated the
two of them equally.

The one next to her didn't have on the
armband; the one whose butt she hadn't seen. Not yet at least.

"It almost makes you want to stay here
forever." He said.

"I was just thinking that."

"Can I sit next to you?" He asked.

"Of course you can." She patted the warm
sand next to her. "Where's your brother?"

"Who cares? Probably working out or doing
something dumb like that. Wondering how he can be Number One out of
the three people on this tiny island."

Melanie didn't respond. She didn't want to
hear them talk bad about each other because she knew one of them
was lying, and to listen to lies like that would just make her stop
liking them at all.

"You know I don't want to hear you talk
trash about each other."

"I'm sorry Melanie, forgive me. Look, the
important thing is that you're here. We are here -- you and me --
so we can get to know each other better."

Her heart began to race. He was so close to
her and they were alone, surrounded by the most beautiful sunset,
ocean, and forest she had ever seen.

"I mean, it's been a whole week now and it's
time for us to catch up to where we left off."

"Where did we leave off?"

It seemed he leaned in a little closer to
her as he spoke. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

"I was hoping you would remember by yourself
because if I just tell you, well, you might not--"

"I might not what?"

He reached out his hand to her, brushing her
long, sun-bleached hair gently aside and softly caressed her cheek.
She didn't resist.

"Look, it's just better if you remember
yourself, okay?"

He leaned in a little closer to her. His
warm clean masculine smell surrounded her. She could just make out
his strong jawline in the twilight and the careless tussle of his
dark, wavy brown hair.

"Hey guys?" A voice came through the brush.
"I have a couple of pheasants on the spit by the barbecue. Oh yeah,
and a lobster tail, too." He added sardonically.

The man next to her rolled his eyes.

"The lobster tail is yours, smart guy."

"No way. It's all yours; you know how you
love that stuff."

Melanie didn't get the whole deal with the
lobster tails. Both of them had made a big thing of not eating it
for the whole week. Obviously, it had some significance.

"I'd like the lobster tail please." She
said.

There was a short silence, then a chuckle
next to her.

"Hey, go ahead and give me one of those
things, bro." He said. "They might grow on me, you never know."

Melanie smiled as well. There was something
irresistible about this man; these men. Even if the subterfuge and
silliness of them not wanting to tell her their real names or which
one of them preferred lobster was kind of juvenile and crazy.

"You know what?" She said. "There's
something we need to do."

"Anything you want." He said.

"Yes, anything." The other brother was near
them now.

"I need to take a really good look at you
guys. Both of you."

"What you see is what you get Melanie." The
man seated next to her said, his eyes dark with intent but also
projecting complete innocence.

"I mean a really, really good look so I can
begin to tell which one of you is which."

"You already have the armband." The one
standing said.

"That's true, but if it falls off or if you
decide to switch it for some bizarre reason, then how would I
know?"

"Why would we do that?" The seated one
said.

"No, she has a point Sebastian." The
standing one said.

"Don't call me that." The other one jumped
to his feet.

Melanie stood up quickly.

"Boys, don't start all that again." She
couldn't let them get into another fight, even if her heart was
racing at the thought of these two perfect males fighting over
her.

"Come on. Come with me. Let's get back to
the camp where I can take a good look at both of you in the
firelight. I need to find something I can recognize easily."

"There's nothing." The one without the
armband said. "Apart from the scar on my little brother's ass which
you already saw."

"That's no good. Will I need to ask you to
drop your shorts every time I want to know who's who?"

"That's no problem." He said. "I'll do it
now, even with this lying douche-bag around."

"Stop it!" She said firmly. Melanie couldn't
take much more of this. They were so far away from the world; so
far away from everything that was normal. They couldn't risk
allowing themselves getting locked into some crazy state of mind
through the isolation. Weird things would begin to seem normal and
then who knows what kind of crazy things were liable to happen?

She reached out and took each of them by the
hand. The men were compliant. Strong, tall, powerful, and willing
to trust themselves to her completely as she led them through the
moonlight and the soft, lush tropical island forest towards the
campfire. When they reached camp, she stood them next to each other
and with their backs to the fire.

"This is really no good, Melanie. We're
identical twins -- genetically indistinguishable. Even our own
mother found it impossible to tell us apart."

"That's not true." The one with the armband
said quietly. "She was always able to tell us apart. Let Melanie
try and see if she can figure it out."

"Melanie, no one wants you to be able to
figure us out more than I do, but this is a waste of time. I'm
telling you."

"Shut up, the two of you." Her heart hadn't
stopped racing. She wanted to get this over with quickly. Just find
some easily identifiable difference, then eat and go to bed.
Melanie didn't know what was happening to her anymore. She wanted
to stop herself from getting into some kind of isolation syndrome
but here she was, about to physically examine two alleged
billionaire twins for physical differences, by the light of a full
moon and a campfire.

Could her life get any more bizarre than
this? Maybe the isolation syndrome had already taken hold.

She looked up at the two silent men gazing
down at her. One with eyes as innocent as a child, staring at her,
straight into her eyes, almost pleading. The other was calm,
confident and strangely caring. He held her gaze just for a moment
and then looked down to the sand; his dark eyes were two moonlit
pools of mysterious intent.

She approached them cautiously, as though
they might take fright and run into the forest. Melanie stifled a
nervous giggle. It was all so crazy and yet so exciting. She came
closer to them and her eyes began to examine every detail, passing
from one to the other, seeking even the tiniest permanent
difference. The one without the armband never left her gaze for a
moment, while the other held it only fleetingly, for seconds each
time, and then backed down into darkness and the shadowy
indentations of the sand.

There were differences all right. Maybe not
physical, but certainly psychological and emotional. She would have
to choose names for them, based on who she felt they were.

Her eyes covered their tousled hair, their
strong brows and firmly set jaws. Each had a day of masculine
stubble on a firmly set jaw. She took another step closer in until
she was almost touching the one without the armband. She stared
into his dark brown eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul, or
so she had heard. Maybe she would find the truth in there.

The man stared back, unflinching, as though
he would absorb everything she had to give, as though they were
connected and he would drink her in. Melanie could hear his soft,
deep masculine breathing. She didn't dare blink. Somehow, she felt
if she just looked long enough, she would know who he really was. A
confident smile played around his lips, she had a vision of them
together, as though in mid-air with him reaching out to her,
longing for her, and she was longing for him as well.

She gave a little gasp and took a step back.
He smiled. The vision was so powerful; more like a vivid memory
than a dream. But it was crazy. How could they be floating together
in mid-air and struggling to make love at the same time?

Now she went to the other brother and gazed
into his eyes as well. He held it for several long seconds and then
averted his eyes, as though she were shining too brightly for him.
She felt the same supreme confidence but something held him back, a
shyness of some kind that concealed a deeper, more powerful desire.
Melanie stayed where she was, her eyes searching for his. She
refused to let him go.

Look at me. Don't you dare run from me! She
thought. Look at me and show me who you really are.

When he lifted his eyes again, he was all
care and love. Whatever deep hunger he had momentarily revealed had
been suppressed and concealed again. It drove her wild. She wanted
to tear aside whatever veil was hiding his true self from her. He
had feelings for her -- powerful ones. Maybe they were feelings
that could barely be controlled and he had no right to hide them
from her.

You just wait. She thought. You can't keep
any secrets from me. Not now, not ever. I'll be right here in front
of you every day until you let down your guard and then I'll be
waiting.

He lowered his gaze again, almost as though
he could read her thoughts and feared exposure to her. She stared
at his bowed head a moment longer and then took a step back.

"Stand back to back." She said. The men
looked at each other and then obeyed. Their broad tanned shoulders
came together.