Big Bad Billionaires [Volume 2] Read online

  As George and Leona kissed passionately, Marco tugged off his own shirt and undid Leona’s fly, and he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her tanned stomach as he pulled off her shorts and underwear. Breaking their kiss, George knelt behind her, his hands once more cupping her ass as he delicately ran his tongue back and forth between her cheeks, flicking it against her anus. At the same time, Marco took her clit into his mouth, twirling it gently between his lips. Leona whimpered, fighting back a scream. Her fingers dug into Marco’s hair as her skin erupted with goose bumps.

  “Wait,” she finally gasped. “Wait!”

  The two men paused, looking up in confusion. Leona slid out from between them and sat on the bed. She looked at their faces and felt a thrill run through her to know that these two men were literally on their knees for her. She smiled wickedly. “Strip each other,” she commanded, sliding back towards the pillows at the head of the bed.

  George raised an eyebrow at her tone of voice.

  “If you think the experience won’t be too… overwhelming for you,” she challenged, running a finger between her breasts and down the smooth planes of her stomach. Then, gently, she began to stroke her clit.

  Both men groaned at the idea of watching the beautiful redhead masturbate. As they got to their feet, George smiled at Marco and dragged the other man to him by the waistband of his shorts. Marco’s eyes widened briefly as George brought him into a deep kiss, one hand cradling Marco’s head. But soon Marco gave into George’s warm mouth and he moaned, pressing himself to the taller man’s chest. Leona moaned lasciviously, watching the two men make out while she tingled her nipples and teased her slickening pussy.

  With one strong tug, George had Marco’s shorts off him then undid his own pants as Marco pulled his shirt off. Their naked bodies pressed together, both men paused to watch Leona. Meeting their gaze, she spread the lips of her pussy open with one hand, while, with her other, she plunged two fingers into her dripping entrance and fucked herself. Both men moaned.

  His cock throbbing from Leona’s display, Marco lowered himself to George’s newly exposed erection and took the other man’s glistening head into his mouth. He heard both George and Leona gasp. George’s fingers dug into Marco’s hair, drawing him further down. Marco swirled his tongue around George’s massive cock and sucked, enjoying knowing exactly what to do to give the other man maximum pleasure. And, judging by George’s groans, he was doing exactly that.

  When Marco heard Leona begin to whimper, her hand pumping furiously as she came, he drew his tongue along the length of George’s cock in one final stroke and stood. George looked at him, his eyes half closed in pleasure. “Shit, Marco,” he whispered.

  Marco just winked and jerked his head in Leona’s direction. With identical grins, the two men headed for the bed, where Leona lay writhing in the final throws of her orgasm. Her body was already glistening under a fine layer of sweat.

  “Fuck, you two are beautiful,” she moaned, pushing a tangle of red hair off her forehead.

  “Not as beautiful as you are,” Marco replied, kissing her breasts as George lowered his mouth to her swollen pussy.

  Leona shouted in shock and pleasure as George licked her entire pussy with the flat of his tongue, flicking her clit with the tip as he finished. As George took Leona’s clit in his mouth, Marco straddled the woman, his wet head bobbing in front of her open mouth. Leona smiled at the invitation and brought Marco’s entire shaft deep into her mouth, running her tongue up and down its length. Marco moaned, gripping her hair and thrusting into her, the feeling of her warm, wet mouth directly on the delicate skin of his cock making him forget to be polite. Laughing at his enthusiasm, Leona gripped his hips to keep him from going too deep.

  Leona’s vaguely registered the sound of a condom package opening and then, suddenly, George was deep inside her. She moaned around Marco’s cock, sucking frantically as George began to fuck her, his enormous shaft sending a shock wave through the entire length of her pussy. Without breaking his rhythm, George lifted Leona off the mattress. Gripping her by the thighs, he drilled into her, knowing the different angle would bring his cock flush with her sensitive upper wall.

  Leona’s reaction was immediate. Her fingers dug into Marco’s skin as her body frantically hammered against George’s. Grinning at her reaction, George slammed into her, his strong legs working like pistons.

  Marco, feeling his orgasm building, slid off Leona and went for a condom. As he rolled one on, he stood back to admire the way Leona’s full breasts bounced against her arching body with every hard thrust, and the slick, satisfying sound of her dripping pussy tightening around George’s thick, dark dick.

  Eagerly, Marco rejoined the fray.

  George pulled Leona into his lap, spreading her ass with his fingers as Marco positioned himself behind her. With one hand, Marco guided himself into the tight whorl of Leona’s anus, his other gripping her hip.

  “Oh, Christ,” Leona whimpers. “Oh, fuck.”

  “Good?” asked George, his strong hands massaging her ass cheeks as Marco eased his full, thick length into her.

  “Fucking amazing,” Leona gasped as her eyes fluttered shut. As one, the two men began to thrust and she screamed at the double pleasure, her nails biting into George’s back. Marco’s hands gripped her hips hard as his fast, shallow thrusts stroked the hypersensitive nerves of her anus into a blinding frenzy of sensation. That alone would have undone her, but the way George furiously drove his massive cock along an inch of her pussy set her body on fire.

  Feeling Leona about to come, George slapped her hard on the ass, surprising Marco and pushing her over the edge. Leona’s thighs pumped furiously as she drove herself frantically onto the two men. Her mind went blank and she howled, her head thrown back as her orgasm overwhelmed her completely.

  Leona’s wild orgasm was too much for George and Marco and, one after the other, they drove themselves as deeply as possible into her tight, wet, spasming entrances, and let their orgasms overtake them. Leona’s howl faded into a whimpering moan as her orgasm ended and, exhausted, she collapsed between them.

  Marco and George smiled at each other as first Marco, then George eased out of her. Leona smiled sleepily at them. “God, you two are good,” she said.

  Marco chuckled, lying back against the pillows. Leona laid her head on his chest as George spooned her from behind. Gently, she stroked George’s hair and he kissed her shoulder.

  “We should go back early tomorrow,” Marco said drowsily, “so that we can pack up before the jet gets here.”

  Leona said nothing. Behind her, she could feel George’s body stiffen even though he stayed silent. “You know,” she said, finally making her decision, “I think I’ll stay here for a little while longer. I’m just getting to know the kids. I don’t want to run off on them right away.”

  Neither men said anything for a moment, but George kissed her shoulder again and Leona smiled. “Of course,” said Marco at last, gracefully accepting defeat. “I’m sure they’d miss you, lion lady.”

  Leona chuckled. “My hair really was a disaster that first morning,” she admitted. “Would you mind if I stayed longer?” she asked George, her voice betraying her nervousness more than she’d wanted. “I mean, I’ll be taking up that hut and —”

  “It would be my pleasure,” George said and she could hear the smile in his voice as he stroked her hip with his fingertips.

  “Besides,” said Marco, laughing, “if anyone is really desperate for your hut, you can always move into George’s. His has running water.”

  “What?!” Leona turned to George, her face furious.

  Marco cackled. “No, no. Don’t be mad at him. I’m lying!” he told her, even as, yelling and laughing, she tackled George. With a shrug, Marco once more joined the fray.

  THE END

  Hello Trouble

  Chapter 1

  Do you ever feel like the whole world is watching you? Like your every move causes a butterfly effect of bad l
uck and accidents? I mean, is it possible to be jinxed so hard that I can't even keep a job at a cafeteria for one day?

  You must be wondering what I'm talking about; I know, I'm wondering myself. Well, let me start by introducing myself. My name is Chloe; I'm 24 years old and unpleasantly unemployed. I’m a naturally intelligent brunette and a beauteous plump girl lacking a little bit of self-esteem and a handsome boyfriend.

  But let’s stick to the job thing for now.

  I'm a college graduate and having the pleasure of staying with my parents after what seems like ages of job absence and mock independence. You know what kind; the one that ‘you feel that the whole world belongs to you and that nothing is going to ever throw you down' kind.

  I feel like sighing when thinking about that, but I can't keep myself together in between the crying sobs of a small girl. You see, there's a fine line between disgrace and dignity and I've been playing hopscotch on both sides my whole life. It's like I'm a magnet for disasters and bad boyfriends, an ability that doesn't help me break away from this nightmare.

  All my life up to now has been a continuous streak of disasters. Let me give you an example. High school; senior year. I had blossomed into a busty girl with the usual up-and-downs of my weight that puberty entails. It was during the middle of the first semester that it happened. We were still getting acquainted with the responsibilities of being young adults having to deal with extra hours after school to better our grades as well as a handful of handsome guys filling our fantasies.

  Back then, I had the pleasure of fancying a man named Greg, a quarterback (because they were always them quarterbacks that really got me going at that age) to the school's team. Chasing a sports scholarship, he had the body of a small god and the mind of a bird. He wasn't the brainy type, I admit it, but I guess he was loyal and really knew how to flap that cute bum of his to draw the attention of every girl in high school.

  Nevertheless, this is me derailing off the main subject: Greg was cute, not-too-smart for his own good, and had the hots for me. Back then, being busty was the only thing that mattered to the boys and so Greg was the first (and hardest) crush of my high school life.

  Ask Nadia, my best friend; she agrees.

  We had this great thing going, texting, sexting, generally going on using our phones way more than we supposed to back then and having a rather boring PE class and team training at the same time. That day, we were all running around in a circle, warming up for the second part of the class that entailed jumping over obstacles and throwing balls at each other. It was still too early in autumn for the teacher to take us to the clean and dry gymnasium.

  I remember everything like it happened yesterday. The previous day it was raining and so the track field was full of mud puddles, and as luck would have it, Greg was training with the team to the field next to ours. We were getting close to the end of the warming up when I felt my ankle twisting and my face to approach the ground, fast.

  The thing is, as I've said before, being a busty, chubby girl; I'm not gifted with cat reflexes. Thus, my falling was anything but gracious. Mud went everywhere on my body, especially my boobs, and the whole class started laughing at me, giving me the nickname Busty Muddy.

  I don’t know what is about high school and boobs, but I got the short straw of it. The next day, Greg stopped texting me as he was one of the avid witnesses of my accident. I still have some classmates calling me Maddie, not knowing that my name is Chloe.

  I wish I could say that this was the worst moment of my high school life, but it's just in the top ten. Slipping in the women's toilet in front of the coolest girls, breaking the Science Project of the valedictorian of our year just one day before showing it to the Science Fair (and probably costing her a spot at Harvard doing so) and finally, outing one of the teachers after tossing down his notes and revealing intimate photos with his boyfriend are the top three high school moments that defined me to this fine young lady.

  And now, I’m sitting outside a coffee shop, crying my heart out on the pavement, talking to an imaginary audience about my life, proving that I can't even make a coherent thought without sounding pathetic. I'm a mess, the kind of mess that lives with her parents until she's thirty and too old to admit that everything is not okay.

  It's going to rain soon. This ain't the time to get even worse than it is. I rise on my feet and straighten my clothes. I turn and look inside the brimming café. My reflection seems to feel better than I am. Maybe this is what I'm supposed to do; look at my reflection and find that hidden beauty inside me.

  Only that I can't.

  Being unemployed is first on my To-fix list, together with staying with my parents. Diet has taken the second place right now, but I must say it's close behind, especially after meeting that handsome businessman earlier today, right before the accident.

  I check my phone and see a call from Nadia. She must have called me to see if I got the job. The problem is that I got it and lost it all in a day's work.

  Here’s how it happened:

  Nadia, my childhood friend, knows about my dire situation. When she heard that they're searching for a waiter in this local coffee shop, I was the first person she thought of applying. The truth is, I was hoping I could get an admin job at an office or something far away from combustibles and breakable equipment, but working at a café is classes above nothing.

  So, I put on my best clothes, head straight to the shop and almost beg the owner to take me. He interviewed me and checked my CV and after seeing that I meet his criteria, he decided to give me a chance.

  "Listen to me, Chloe," he said, "the pay isn't anything special and there will be days that you'll feel too sick to come to work but you'll have to come because there’ll be no one to trade shifts with you. But, it's an easy and honest job. Is that okay with you?"

  What was I supposed to tell him? No? I don't remember to have agreed so fast about anything in my life.

  So the boss gets me at a serving post, pouring coffee and wiping the tables. Overall, it's a really easy job. You smile at new customers, ask if they want coffee, pour them a cup if they agree, and leave after wiping the table to wait for the next customer.

  Easy peasy.

  No. "Busty Muddy" Chloe found a spectacular way to mess it up really good.

  A pair of smart-looking businessmen walked in the café. I spotted them in seconds because they seemed like they didn't belong in there. Both were good-looking and well-groomed, but one of them was a rowdy boor and the other a mysterious gentleman.

  Either way, I was too focused on keeping my work that I didn't have the time to make any illicit thoughts about their sexy duo. However, my body must have had a different idea. Maybe I was too eager to serve them? Maybe I was searching for the opportunity to get closer to that black-haired gentleman with the striking blue eyes?

  Or maybe it was just my clumsy disposition that caused everything?

  I think you can guess what happened next.

  When I was close to them, I slipped on something wet on the floor, lost my balance and dropped a half-full pitcher of hot coffee on the rowdy businessman's crotch. And it's not one of those days that it was the "optimistic" kind of half-full. No, not even close.

  "What the fuck?!? Are you out of your mind?" the man started yelling after he briskly jumped up from his seat.

  "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. Oh my God, I'm such a clutch," I reply, but you know all those golden boys. They can't let something like that slip their attention.

  "How old are you? Sixteen? Haven't your parents taught you how to hold a fucking pitcher? My suit is destroyed and you almost ruined me down there," he keeps yelling.

  "I'm really sorry, sir. I can compensate you if that's what you want. I really am sorry."

  "This is a designer's suit, you dimwit! Even in your dreams, you don't have the money to pay for this. God. Let's go, Deacon. This place is a shithole," he says and gets on his feet.

  By then, the whole shop has turned and all customers are lo
oking at us, some of them giggling quietly, others capturing the whole scene with a camera. I think that there were some that looked at me with compassion, but I don't seem to recall their faces. By the time my boss —ex-boss — arrived at the scene, my eyes were full of moist as I was barely holding myself together.

  "What happened here? What's going on?" the boss asked.

  "Your employees are useless, that's what happened. This woman here dropped a ton of hot coffee on my crotch, destroying my suit and almost hurting me," the businessman says.

  The man with the blue eyes just rolled his eyes and patiently waited for his friend to end his tantrum and leave, however, he did nothing to help me. I don't know why it bothered me so much that he didn't speak up to him, but I thought that maybe someone would bud in to help a damsel in distress.