ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories) (62 page)

FORBIDDEN ESCAPE

Billionaire Stepbrother Romance

Talk about a change in scenery.

Just a few months ago, she mused, Callie Bradford had taken up temporary residence in a modest dorm room at Dorchester Women’s College; a compact, sparsely furnished room that counted a toaster oven and a decorative poster reading, “No frat guys allowed—unless of course you bear a passing resemblance to Chris Hemsworth or Henry Cavill” as upscale decorative accents, and—as roommates—one gal who suffered from a chronic snoring problem and another who suffered from an equally chronic case of Multiple Personality Disorder (ah, but only one of the personae snored—that was one bonus, at least).

Now she had taken up temporary residence in a five star Las Vegas hotel room; an expansive, elegant three room suite that counted a canopied four poster silk clad bed, a domed ceiling featuring a mural of angels in flight across a gem blue sky, a brass, candle-lined chandelier, and polished cherry wood furnishings as decorative accents and someone who actually did bear a passing resemblance to Henry Cavill as a roommate—and who, as an added bonus, had a bank account that likened that of any given Rockefeller.

Not a bad sitch, as her teen-aged cousin would say, especially considering that she was currently enjoying a luxurious honeymoon trip with said heavenly hunk, otherwise known as Hamilton Sanders.

There was just one problem, though. She and her lover had not taken a luxurious honeymoon trip for themselves, but in honor and in the accompaniment of two people who were very close to them - his father, Harry Sanders, and her mother, Jama Bradford.

“Well I guess it would be Jama Sanders, now,” Callie mused now, biting her lip as she sunk low in the whisper soft lavender comforter that covered her deluxe four-poster bed. “I certainly hope against all hope that Harry does not try to adopt me. Then we’ll all be headed for guaranteed guest spots on a cable talk show they broadcast at four in the morning, in between select Jumbo Juicer infomercials and reruns of Laverne and Shirley. Of course, I hear that they offer really keen craft services tables on the sets of those productions—and a big ol’ cash bonus if you get into a fist fight with another guest.”

At one point, she mused; she and Hamilton easily could have fulfilled this stipulation on the day they met. Indeed, while she immediately hit it off with Harry Sanders—the seasoned financial executive who was her mother’s boss for two years before he became her husband—she immediately yearned to hit his brash, arrogant son.

“At first I did not rightly believe that I could tolerate having Hamilton Sanders as a stepbrother,” she mused, adding as she rolled her eyes heavenward, “Then, within 24 hours, he became my lover. Criminy, Callie. Why do you do this to yourself?”

Then said lover emerged from the bathroom; reminding her all too well as to why she had gone and done this to herself.

The tall, muscular man who now filled her line of vision boasted a thick, full mane of jet ebony hair that framed a sculpted face; one that came complete with chiseled cheekbones, full, moist lips and wide, gorgeous azure eyes.

Dressed that evening in a sleek black suit that seemed to be culled from the finest velvet, the stunning man graced her with a dazzling white-toothed smile as he leaned forward to grace her lips with a soft, sweet kiss.

“So, Darling,” he purred, his deep, masculine voice sending quivers down her spine. “How do you like Vegas?”

Callie smiled.

“I love it,” she enthused, adding as he took a seat beside her on the bed, “I tell you, Hamilton, there are so many things I want to see here—including, of course, the Rock’n’Roll Museum at the Hard Rock Café. Have you heard that they have Jimi Hendrix’ signature Stratocaster on display, plus the guitars of Carlos Santana and Paul McCartney? I also hope that they have a Janis Joplin exhibit, like they do at the Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland—and they should feature Joan Jett pretty prominently, as she was just inducted into the Hall of Fame.”

Hamilton chuckled.

“My question is,” he whispered, leaning forward to erase all distance between them, “When are we going to see the Callie Bradford exhibit at the Rock’n’Roll Museum—and, for that matter, at the Hall of Fame?”

Callie rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure that they have a special display reserved for honor roll music education majors,” she snorted, adding with an affectionate grin in the direction of her admiring companion, “Although I must say that, now being able to write and practice my tunes on the wonderful Les Paul model you gave me, I feel that I am one step closer to my dream career. Maybe someday I will indeed play to packed crowds at stadiums around the world—and not just at the student union hall and at Benny’s Bar and Grill just off campus.”

Hamilton guffawed outright.

“Thanks babe,” he told her, azure eyes gleaming with tender affection as he added, “I daresay, though, that you do not need a rich man’s gifts to make your own fortune in life. I have every confidence that you someday will play every major stadium, and claim your own place at the Rock’n’Roll Museum—where I will be taking you tomorrow, and on a private guided tour—this owing to the fact that Dad and I are personally acquainted with the museum owners.”

Callie grinned.

“Now why does that not absolutely shock me?” she asked with a chuckle, adding more seriously, “You rock, Babe.”

She took in her breath as her lover surged forward to seize her lips in a passionate kiss, his full, moist mouth rubbing against hers in smooth, massaging motions.

The couple’s kiss deepened as their tongues entangled and their lips smacked together, and Hamilton reached forward to stroke Callie’s back in long, loving strokes.

“Mmmmm,” he purred soft and sweet against her lips, pressing his hard massive chest against hers as his magical hands smoothed his way up to her sturdy shoulders; easing her back with a gentle motion into the divine softness of the bed beneath them.

He frowned in confusion moments later, as his lover broke their kiss; springing from the bed as she told him, “Now baby, I know that we’re stuck right square at the center of the most romantic city in the world—well, aside from Paris and London, of course, but I’m not sure what those two cultural bergs offer in terms of those ace slot machines. We should remember, though, that we’re meeting our parents,” she paused here, feeling her cheeks flush as she amended quickly, “I mean to say, your father and my mother, for dinner this evening at Club Tropicale. So, considering this, I really think that we should refrain from starting something that we won’t be able to finish.”

Hamilton shrugged.

“Well as much as I do like to take my time when I make sweet love to you,” he grinned with a playful wink, “I do believe that our dinner engagement is more than three hours away.” He paused here, adding as his eyes flew wide, “I don’t need to take quite that much time, babe. I’m pretty sure that, if we work together as a team, we can indeed accomplish everything we need to in less than 180 minutes.”

Callie rolled her eyes heavenward.

“I’m pretty sure that, if we work together as a team, we can indeed accomplish everything we need to in less than 180 minutes,” she repeated in a rote, robotic manner. “Once a high finance executive, always a high finance executive—huh, Sanders?”

Hamilton laughed.

“Only on weekdays, from 9 to 5,” he reminded her, adding as he reclined his firm muscled body in a pose of blatant seduction against a sleek covering of whisper soft lavender silk, “Any other time, baby, I am nothing more than Callie Bradford’s shameless groupie and willing love slave.” He paused here, adding on a whisper as he began to unbutton his black velvet jacket, “Take me, baby. Just have your way with me.”

For a moment Callie stood still and transfixed beside the bed; watching with admiring eyes as her salacious lover blatantly seduced her; holding her gaze as he revealed just a bit of his hard, bronzed pecs.

Suddenly her pulse raced with desire for the man she saw before her; and even as she struggled to tear her gaze away from his perfect chest, which he now flexed for her pleasure, to the aquiline eyes that now narrowed to sear her with a sultry gaze that reeked of seduction.

“Come to me,” he whispered, holding his hand out to her. “Let me make love to you, my darling.”

Callie froze, her heart racing in her ears as she felt herself captured by his smooth voice, his peerless beauty, and his flawless pose.

Finally, though, she took a deep, sustaining breath and tore herself away from him; retreating into their adjoining master bathroom as she said over her shoulder, “Look babe, we just spent several hours on a plane and I am feeling supremely dirty and sticky—and not in a good way.  You’re already clean and dressed for dinner, and I would like to be in a similar state when we go down to meet Harry and Jama for supper. So with that in mind, I would like to check out the other room in our master suite and take a bath. A cold one. Alone.”

With this rather stiff declaration she retreated with haste into the master bathroom; taking just a moment to admire the sleek gold brocade walls and brass handled faucets that accented this luxurious space.

“Wow, this place is swank!” she exclaimed through the door that—of course—also came complete with a shiny brass handle. “Prior to this trip, most of the hotels where Mom and I stayed offered nothing more than free toothpaste—trial size. And, if you landed the Deluxe Suite, a cupful of mouth wash to boot.”

Callie smiled as she heard the deep, sonorous laughter that resounded through the surface of the door that stood between them.

“Get used to being spoiled rotten, babe,” he told her. “Because that’s exactly what I plan to do to you, for the rest of our natural lives.”

Callie’s grin broadened and her heart warmed as she considered these kind, meaningful words; phrasing that just officially intensified her already hot desire for the stunning, remarkable man in the next room. So now she needed that ice cold bath even more. Blast that stunning, remarkable man in the next room. Blast him, big time.

Soon she immersed herself in the circular marble tub that formed the centerpiece of this upscale bath, her curvaceous, fully made form immersing itself in a pool of clean, cool water.

First she grasped the vial of lavender that sat in a gold toiletry tin poised at the edge of the tub; sniffing its appealing scent as she next reached for the cake of translucent designer soap that she used to wash and cleanse every part of her body.

“This soap probably costs more than my yearly tuition at grad school,” she thought vaguely, nonetheless savoring the succulent feel of this luxury soap—and the soft velvety washcloth that applied it—as both coddled and cleaned her skin.

She froze as she heard a soft knock resound from the bathroom door.

“Any chance you need me to wash your back?” She had to smile at the sound of Hamilton’s hopeful voice as it permeated through the surface between them.

“Nope,” she replied, chuckling in secret at the long, anguished sigh that met this concise answer.

Her frivolity faded moments later, as she wrapped herself in the terrycloth robe that hung from her gold encased shower rod and stepped out of the tub; emerging from the bathroom to find her dejected lover hunched on the edge of the bed—regarding her with a sad stare as she made her way into the room.

“Hey,” she frowned, going immediately to set beside him on the bed. “We’re about to go to dinner at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the world, in one of the most glamorous and exciting cities in the world, and—to use the most ancient and blatantly trite phrase in the universe—you look like you just lost your best friend.”

Hamilton shrugged.

“Not my best friend, but perhaps my lover,” he told her, adding with a shrug, “I don’t mean to pressure you, Callie—I’d never want you to do anything you didn’t want to do. I would never hurt you, baby—please understand that,” he paused here, adding as he probed her with a penetrating gaze, “It just concerns me that, after being drawn together by such an irresistible force, after spending so many passionate nights together—and days, and mornings, and an occasional nooner thrown in here and there—you seem reluctant to be with me now. Why, baby?”

Fixing him with a soft, sad smile, Callie wrapped a loving arm around Hamilton’s broad shoulders, her tone soft and gentle as she assured him, “Please know, baby, that my feelings toward you have not changed in any way. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, darling.” She paused here, adding as she pursed her lips in a nervous, self-conscious manner, “but seriously babe, our parents are in the next room.”

Hamilton nodded.

“Our parents are indeed in the next room—on their honeymoon,” he reminded her, adding as he rolled his eyes heavenward, “What in the heck do you think they’re probably doing right now?  Repeatedly, and in every known position possible.”

Callie cringed.

“You’re talking about our parents here,” she reminded him, adding as she made a face, “To use yet another trite and outdated term—I do believe I’m going for a record here—Eeeeuw!!!!” she paused here, adding more seriously, “Of course I realize that, much like us, Harry and Jama are very much in love—and are, in all likelihood, expressing that love for one another in just about every way possible, to phrase things in a slightly more subtle manner. Even so, I couldn’t help but notice Mom’s face at the check in desk, when we asked the clerk to change our reservations. You do know, of course that—when Mom and Dad first booked their honeymoon trip—they booked two separate rooms for you and me.”