The Bullion Brothers: Billionaire triplet brothers interracial menage by Tania Beaton Page B
Authors: Tania Beaton
Ads: Link
register.
I don’t remember hearing it delivered by quite such gorgeous lips before, or in a voice as deep and silky as his. There was a deep, lazy drawl in his voice and it made my insides vibrate. It’s a voice that you could just curl up in, and the look in his eye was level and hungrily sincere.
Still the arrogance in his manner was breathtaking. It made me want to slap his pretty chops. My thighs tingled and my knees were unreliable.
And that was the moment when I spotted Petroc, coming out of a door halfway up a stairway. Mi was following him out and Petroc’s face was flushed. Mi, she seemed to be yanking up her fly. Wait… Her fly?
To my infuriating companion, I said, “Please, would you excuse me for a moment,” part of me thought it was the perfect excuse, that I could escape this arrogant prick.
Another part of me didn’t want to let him go. Not just yet. That wasn’t the part that I’m most proud of.
I told him, “I’ll be right back,” and I hurried to follow Petroc. He vanished into the crowd on the next floor up, and it was a while before I caught up with him.
Had I seen something that was just odd, but entirely innocent? Was Mi not quite as far along in her transformation as she had implied? If so, had Petroc omitted to mention his bisexuality to me? WTF? When I finally reached him through the sparkly throng, Petroc was slugging a glass of champagne like he was parched and it was water. He gulped it and he nearly spluttered when he saw me.
“Hey, Petroc, what was that?”
“What was what, the champagne?” He swayed a little and his expression was challenging and defensive at the same time.
“No, not the champagne, Petroc. What were you doing with Mi?”
“What are you talking about? Look, can we discuss this later?” He moved to brush past me. I blocked him and I said,
“Is there something to discuss?”
“ No . That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean, Petroc?”
“I meant that, whatever it is, can we please talk about it later. I’m here professionally, you know? I’m trying to get some business done here, OK?”
I said, “Me too, Petroc. So as your social media coordinator, perhaps you should bring me up to speed on the business that you were conducting in the room on the stairs with Mi, so that I can update your Facebook friends and the Twitterverse about it.”
“Look, it’s nothing, OK?” He was getting flushed, and that meant angry.
“OK, it’s nothing.” I said, “Look, there’s Mi now.” I waved to him. Her. To ‘Mi,’ but she acted as though she hadn’t seen me and ducked away. I looked back to Petroc and he was barging off in the opposite direction, towards the exit.
I went down the steps after him, but he shouted back, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” and he was through the door to the street.
I reached the door and saw Petroc with his collar up, hurrying along the store windows into the rainy New York night. I was debating whether to go after him and on the point of deciding against it. As I was about to turn back into the gallery, a rattle like rolling garbage cans came from down an alley, just ahead of where Petroc was.
He jumped back, his face drained and pale. Then he flattened himself against the window. Two big shapes came slowly out of the alley. I couldn’t make out their features, but they were huge men.
They hunkered in front of him. He was frozen and obviously terrified. A Bentley convertible pulled up sharply to the curb and a big man’s voice called out, “Derrick! Hawser!” The two men hesitated, still leaning towards Petroc, then they both jumped into the back of the car and it swept away into the darkness and the rain.
I stood rooted to the spot. I didn’t even notice Petroc slink away, but I know he did because when I looked back, he wasn’t there. I had recognised the man’s voice. My mysterious companion was at the wheel of the Bentley.
So Petroc was gone, and he was gone.
I don’t remember hearing it delivered by quite such gorgeous lips before, or in a voice as deep and silky as his. There was a deep, lazy drawl in his voice and it made my insides vibrate. It’s a voice that you could just curl up in, and the look in his eye was level and hungrily sincere.
Still the arrogance in his manner was breathtaking. It made me want to slap his pretty chops. My thighs tingled and my knees were unreliable.
And that was the moment when I spotted Petroc, coming out of a door halfway up a stairway. Mi was following him out and Petroc’s face was flushed. Mi, she seemed to be yanking up her fly. Wait… Her fly?
To my infuriating companion, I said, “Please, would you excuse me for a moment,” part of me thought it was the perfect excuse, that I could escape this arrogant prick.
Another part of me didn’t want to let him go. Not just yet. That wasn’t the part that I’m most proud of.
I told him, “I’ll be right back,” and I hurried to follow Petroc. He vanished into the crowd on the next floor up, and it was a while before I caught up with him.
Had I seen something that was just odd, but entirely innocent? Was Mi not quite as far along in her transformation as she had implied? If so, had Petroc omitted to mention his bisexuality to me? WTF? When I finally reached him through the sparkly throng, Petroc was slugging a glass of champagne like he was parched and it was water. He gulped it and he nearly spluttered when he saw me.
“Hey, Petroc, what was that?”
“What was what, the champagne?” He swayed a little and his expression was challenging and defensive at the same time.
“No, not the champagne, Petroc. What were you doing with Mi?”
“What are you talking about? Look, can we discuss this later?” He moved to brush past me. I blocked him and I said,
“Is there something to discuss?”
“ No . That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean, Petroc?”
“I meant that, whatever it is, can we please talk about it later. I’m here professionally, you know? I’m trying to get some business done here, OK?”
I said, “Me too, Petroc. So as your social media coordinator, perhaps you should bring me up to speed on the business that you were conducting in the room on the stairs with Mi, so that I can update your Facebook friends and the Twitterverse about it.”
“Look, it’s nothing, OK?” He was getting flushed, and that meant angry.
“OK, it’s nothing.” I said, “Look, there’s Mi now.” I waved to him. Her. To ‘Mi,’ but she acted as though she hadn’t seen me and ducked away. I looked back to Petroc and he was barging off in the opposite direction, towards the exit.
I went down the steps after him, but he shouted back, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” and he was through the door to the street.
I reached the door and saw Petroc with his collar up, hurrying along the store windows into the rainy New York night. I was debating whether to go after him and on the point of deciding against it. As I was about to turn back into the gallery, a rattle like rolling garbage cans came from down an alley, just ahead of where Petroc was.
He jumped back, his face drained and pale. Then he flattened himself against the window. Two big shapes came slowly out of the alley. I couldn’t make out their features, but they were huge men.
They hunkered in front of him. He was frozen and obviously terrified. A Bentley convertible pulled up sharply to the curb and a big man’s voice called out, “Derrick! Hawser!” The two men hesitated, still leaning towards Petroc, then they both jumped into the back of the car and it swept away into the darkness and the rain.
I stood rooted to the spot. I didn’t even notice Petroc slink away, but I know he did because when I looked back, he wasn’t there. I had recognised the man’s voice. My mysterious companion was at the wheel of the Bentley.
So Petroc was gone, and he was gone.
Similar Books
