All Chapters of Two Billionaires and A Bride: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

“Hey!” Laura said firmly. “Me. Remember me?” Sheepish, they both had the sense to dip their heads before giving her their eyes. Mike suppressed an urge to shove Dylan. Unfortunately, Dylan had the impulse control of Bill Clinton in a room full of interns and couldn’t hold back his nudge. Mike simmered. Not worth it. Not worth it. Not worth it.His eyes settled on Laura. Worth it.Dylan blinked, his eyelashes white. “Yes.” His voice came out like silk. “Of course we do.”“Then shut up and stop the childish crap and hear me out.” She wasn’t angry now—her voice was preternaturally calm, and it creeped Mike out. Like she was detaching. Detaching not in some Buddhist sense, but detaching from them. From the relationship. From the possibility of what he knew, deep inside, was achievable.So that creepy feeling needed to be respected. And so did Laura.“You know that what you did was wrong. You know that you should have told me.” Ah, here it com

Knock knock. “Wha?” Laura sat up. Who in the hell knocks at 6:11 a.m.?Bang bang bang. “Laura?”Josie. “Lost my key!” came her muffled voice through the door.I never gave you a new one, Laura thought, shuffling to the door. Daylight was a glaring bitch this morning, sunlight aggressively spilling through her apartment.“You know, they have these places,” Laura said sharply as Josie walked past her, into the kitchen, and grabbed the coffee sack, plopping it next to the coffee machine. “They’re called coffee shops. Professional coffee people make it for you and you give them these green pieces of paper and you get to drink it.”“Green pieces of paper?”“Or silver coins.” She yawned. “Or plastic cards.”“But they don’t have stories about threesomes like you do.”“Oh, I’m sure if you ask around enough someone will.” Laura scooped the coffee with a slightly shaking hand. Could you have a tiramisu hangover? Jesus, Dy

What caught Dylan off guard most was how pink her apartment was. He hadn’t pegged Laura as one of those pink girls, but the apartment practically glowed. Not in a sickly-sweet Barbie dream house kind of way, but more like IKEA had decided pink was the color of the season and Laura had happened todecide to decorate her entire place that year. Even the bathroom had some shade of pink that dominated.It wasn’t a show stopper. Chuckling as he dried his hands on a pinkish bath towel with blue and lime highlights, he paused to stare at himself in the mirror. This was really happening. Mike had been wrong. Mr. Doubt Everything had come back this morning from one of his killer runs and declared that the situation with Laura was tenuous at best, and that they needed to pour their hearts out tonight at her place and just tell her about the billions.“You’re nuts,” Dylan had told him flatly. He was off for the day and ironing work shirts while deciding what to wear that night. The ratty Rush t-

And this was just the appetizer. “Oh, yeah, Laura. Let it all go,” Dylan cheered quietly, his hand no longer on himself but his turgid member at attention and ready for orders. She gently pushed Mike’s head away, the climax still in progress but the touch now almost painful, that post-clit orgasm sensitivity that made her grit her teeth in a not-good way.He sensed it and pulled back; ah, good, she thought. He knew enough to do that. Learning about new lovers’ bodies was always a game of does he/doesn’t he/will he/won’t he that was new each time, and never reliably easy to guess. Lying on her back, hips still elevated, she felt an enormous wet spot under the cleft of her ass and just panted little breaths, letting her arms go liquid, her legs splay out, her body in some yoga position of complete contentment.Yet still she wanted more. Needed them both in her. Rolling over, she chuckled at the sight of the wet spot, bigger than her ass, knowing she’d gushed and not at all shy about it.

“I thought you’d been promoted. Not that you’re the new owner!” Shelly stormed into Mike’s office with spit and vinegar, looking like a younger version of Madge. It was unnerving. Being yelled at by a teenager wasn’t on his list of expected experiences this morning, so his response was stunned silence.“Hello? Going to say something?”“What are you talking about?” Shit. Had someone in the CFO’s office finally leaked the truth? He reached for his travel mug and took a long sip of coffee, buying time.“The television show. All about you and some hot firefighter bachelor auction dude being billionaires. It’s all over the morning talk shows and even on the radio.”Spew. He shot drops of coffee all over his desk, choking, the coughs racking his chest as he set down the mug. Oh, my God. Oh, my fucking God. Dylan had been so wrong. Why hadn’t they told Laura? She was going to kill them.No. Worse.She was going to leave them.H