Chapter 1
CHRISTOPHER
The deep buzz of my alarm cuts the silence, and I stretch out as I wake.
“Fuck, it feels like I was asleep for three minutes,” I murmur.
“I think we were,” Heidi whispers as she throws her leg over me.
I keep dozing with my eyes closed, and I feel lips on my neck from the other side. “Morning, Nicki,” I mutter.
She smiles into my neck as she cuddles in closer. “Good morning, Christopher.”
The three of us lie in comfortable silence for a few minutes more, and I know I have to make a move. I have a board meeting at nine. “Up.” I sigh.
The girls both grumble with resistance.
I sit up and look around the room. Clothes are strewed everywhere, and a bottle of wine and three glasses are still by the sunken spa in my bathroom. I bend and kiss Nicki’s hip. “Get up, wench.”
“Go away.” She rolls over.
I smile and slap Heidi on the behind. “Party’s over.”
“Ow,” she cries.
I climb out and stand at the end of the bed as I look down at the view. Seeing two beautiful women in my bed will never get old. “Come on, out.” I flick the blankets off them. “I have to go to work.”
It’s very easy to get them to come over, not so easy to get them to leave.
“What’s happening tonight?” Nicki asks.
“Nothing,” I reply as I walk around naked, picking up their clothes. “I’m busy.”
“Doing what?” Heidi asks as she leans up on her elbows. Her blonde hair is wild and messy.
“I have a date.” I throw her panties at her head. “With a good girl.” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point. “The exact opposite of you two hobags.”
They both laugh. “You love hobags,” Nicki says.
I lean down onto my hands and kiss them both; then I grab a handful of Nicki’s hair and pull it toward me so I can kiss her longer. She’s my favorite. “That’s true. I do.”
I lean over and kiss Heidi’s breast. She grabs a handful of my hair, and I feel a throb between my legs. When they grab my hair, I’m done for.
Stop it. I don’t have time for this. I pull out of her grip.
“So . . . you’ll call us on the way home from your boring date, then?” Heidi asks.
I smirk as I continue picking up their clothes. They know me well. “Probably.” I pull back Nicki’s bra like a slingshot and fire it at her head. It flicks her hard.
“Ow, cut it out.” She snaps it up.
I walk into the bathroom and turn the shower on. I look back to see them both still lying in bed, and I march back out there and put my hands on my hips. “Get up before I make you both do unspeakable things,” I demand.
“What’s new?” Heidi smiles playfully up at me. She’s all crumpled and just fucked.
Tempting . . .
“I have a board meeting at nine.”
I shower and minutes later walk out with a white towel around my waist to see them slowly dressing as I disappear into my walk-in wardrobe. I put on a navy suit and white shirt, a Rolex watch, black shoes, and a belt and walk back into the bathroom.
As usual, the girls both come in and sit on the vanity to talk to me as I do my hair.
“What’s on today, boss?” Nicki asks as she tightens my tie.
“Business stuff.”
“I love business stuff,” Heidi replies. “Say something boss-like to me.”
“You’re fired.”
They both giggle.
“Say something boss-like to me,” Nicki says.
“Bend over my desk.” I turn her away from me and lift her dress up over her ass.
A thrum of arousal runs through me as I stare down at her tight ass up in the air . . . ready and waiting.
Go to fucking work!
“Let’s go,” I snap as I rush from the bathroom.
I hear a voice come from the kitchen. “Good morning, Mr. Miles.”
“Good morning, Miss Penelope,” I call as I collect my briefcase from my office. I walk back out into the kitchen, and she passes me my coffee in a travel mug.
“You are undoubtedly the best housekeeper of all time.” I smile as I kiss her cheek.
“I know, dear.”
I’m not even joking. Miss Penelope truly is the best housekeeper of all time. If she wasn’t fifty-six years old . . . and already married, I would marry her myself.
The girls come around the corner. “Good morning, Miss Penelope,” they chime in unison.
“Good morning, girls.” She smiles. Her eyes come back to me, and I give her a playful wink.
Yeah, yeah, I know.
I’m bad.
We’ve established this a million times already.
“Time to go. Have a good day, Miss Penelope.”
“I will, dear. You too.”
We make for the door, and the girls chatter as we get into the elevator. When we get to the ground floor, I walk out the front of my building with them. Hans is waiting with my car. “Morning, Hans.” I smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Miles.” He dips his head.
“Can you take the girls home for me, please?” I ask him.
“Yes, sir.” He smiles. “Of course.”
“Morning, Hans.” The girls both smile as he opens the back door of the limo. I kiss them each goodbye on the cheek, and they happily bounce in. I watch the limo pull out and walk back into my building and take the elevator down to the basement. I get into my black Porsche and pull out of the parking lot and into the long line of cars.
Ugh . . . London traffic. Is there anything worse?
Three hours later
“And this right here.” He points to a line on the graph. “This trend is what we’re following. See how the overflow of the population . . .”
I yawn, hardly able to keep my eyes open.
“Are we keeping you awake, Christopher?” Jameson barks.
You are, actually.
I clear my throat to stop myself rolling my eyes.
“Sorry,” I apologize.
Two of my brothers, Jameson and Tristan, are here in London to meet with Elliot and me for our quarterly board meeting. The shit we have to talk about is seriously boring. Jameson begins to speak again and goes on in great detail about some spiraling trend, and I yawn again.
Jameson glares at me.
“Sorry,” I mouth, trying not to interrupt him again.
For fuck’s sake, focus.
I can hardly keep my eyes open. I glance at my watch. How long is this meeting going to go for?
Elliot begins to talk. “I’ve been watching the outcomes on this, and I’ve found . . .”
He goes on and on and on . . . I yawn again.
“Will you cut it out!” Tristan snaps. “You are not the only person in the room who’s fucking tired.”
I glance up to see the attention of all three men fixed on me.
“I bet Christopher’s way of getting tired was more fun than yours.” Elliot smirks.
“One hundred percent,” Tristan mutters dryly. “I slept on the floor while the kids slept in my fucking bed.”
“Why?” Jameson frowns.
“The girls have decided that they don’t want to sleep anywhere but in their bedrooms at home.” He fakes a smile. “Traveling is so much fun these days.”