Read Online The Bullion Brothers: Billionaire triplet brothers interracial menage by Tania Beaton - Free Book Online
Authors: Tania Beaton
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should leave his phone at the restaurant so he could come back for it, or if should I take it.
He would be bound to have a way to track the phone, so if I took it he could find it easily enough. And me with it, if he cared. But that was what I knew I would do. I’d take his phone.
The wine was fresh and crisp, and I did my best to enjoy it. Any taste that I had for the sandwich was gone, but the waiter was pleasant when I asked him to bag it for me. I knew that I needed to eat, and I hoped that a walk along the shore would revive my appetite.
As I walked back onto the sand, the sun was still high in the sky, but the breeze was more stiff and persistent. With the laces of my sneakers knotted together, I put them over my shoulder.
Strolling near enough to the water’s edge to dip my toes in the ocean, I tried to make some sense out of my feelings about the day, with no success. It was a day of disasters. And in the middle of it, Balthazar showed up. My pulse raced at the thought of him. It looked like he had become pretty wealthy.
Thinking of the finely cut cotton of his suit, I tried to keep my mind off the bulge in his pants. The recollection of his scent took me back to the sensation of him standing over me, so near, and his hard heat.
His phone rang. I knew I would be able to answer the call, though I probably couldn’t do much else. I pressed the screen and held the phone to my ear. A cultured male voice said, “Thirteen point eight million dollars. Cash.”
I said, “Who is this?”
And the voice hesitated. “I was told to give the number only. Will you see that the message gets to Mr. Colt?”
“Thirteen point eight million is the message?” I said, baffled.
“Thank you.” They hung up. I looked at the screen. There was no number.
I had just dropped the phone back into my pocket when it rang again, so I fished it back out. Still no number. I pressed the ‘Answer’ key.
“You picked up my phone.” When I heard his voice I nearly dropped it again. “I knew that you would.” The bastard did it on purpose. “Did you answer it a few moments ago? Did a call come in?” It was getting hard to hear him as a huge motorboat sliced the waves close to the shore.
I shouted into the phone, “Yes. Thirteen point eight million dollars, cash, is what the man said.”
Through the noise of the boat’s engine I was just about able to hear him, “Thanks, Sis. Did you eat your sandwich yet?”
“Not yet. I wasn’t hungry.” I shouted with one finger in my ear, pressing the phone hard against the other ear. The boat grew louder and closer.
He said something and I couldn’t hear him at all, the damned boat was so close. I shouted to him to repeat it.
“Have lunch with me,” I moved away from the shore but the boat slammed onto the beach in front of me.
He stood tall in the back of the speedboat. Two of his uniformed minion-kids sat behind the windshield to drive.
As the long speedboat lurched back into the waves, the front rose and I was thrown hard against him. I held him to steady myself. My heart thumped as my hand rested on the firm ripples of his stomach.
His body was big and hard against mine, and I felt protected like I had in the days when we lived together. Protected and excited, like when kids in the hall make remarks about me and he beat them up.
The huge swelling in his pants transfixed me. As I held tighter against him, the fabric of his pants was stretched tighter and harder.
His throat tightened and his breath seemed to thicken. When he rested his hand on my waist, the bulge moved up. He took his hand away again. I was sorry that he did.
We bounced hard over the white spume and the green waves. The water splashed under us and a cool spray dampened my face and my clothes as we sped in a wide arc out to the open ocean.
His shirt was damp, too and it clung to his skin. He had a beautiful muscular bod when we were younger. Now he was awesome, and breathtakingly
He would be bound to have a way to track the phone, so if I took it he could find it easily enough. And me with it, if he cared. But that was what I knew I would do. I’d take his phone.
The wine was fresh and crisp, and I did my best to enjoy it. Any taste that I had for the sandwich was gone, but the waiter was pleasant when I asked him to bag it for me. I knew that I needed to eat, and I hoped that a walk along the shore would revive my appetite.
As I walked back onto the sand, the sun was still high in the sky, but the breeze was more stiff and persistent. With the laces of my sneakers knotted together, I put them over my shoulder.
Strolling near enough to the water’s edge to dip my toes in the ocean, I tried to make some sense out of my feelings about the day, with no success. It was a day of disasters. And in the middle of it, Balthazar showed up. My pulse raced at the thought of him. It looked like he had become pretty wealthy.
Thinking of the finely cut cotton of his suit, I tried to keep my mind off the bulge in his pants. The recollection of his scent took me back to the sensation of him standing over me, so near, and his hard heat.
His phone rang. I knew I would be able to answer the call, though I probably couldn’t do much else. I pressed the screen and held the phone to my ear. A cultured male voice said, “Thirteen point eight million dollars. Cash.”
I said, “Who is this?”
And the voice hesitated. “I was told to give the number only. Will you see that the message gets to Mr. Colt?”
“Thirteen point eight million is the message?” I said, baffled.
“Thank you.” They hung up. I looked at the screen. There was no number.
I had just dropped the phone back into my pocket when it rang again, so I fished it back out. Still no number. I pressed the ‘Answer’ key.
“You picked up my phone.” When I heard his voice I nearly dropped it again. “I knew that you would.” The bastard did it on purpose. “Did you answer it a few moments ago? Did a call come in?” It was getting hard to hear him as a huge motorboat sliced the waves close to the shore.
I shouted into the phone, “Yes. Thirteen point eight million dollars, cash, is what the man said.”
Through the noise of the boat’s engine I was just about able to hear him, “Thanks, Sis. Did you eat your sandwich yet?”
“Not yet. I wasn’t hungry.” I shouted with one finger in my ear, pressing the phone hard against the other ear. The boat grew louder and closer.
He said something and I couldn’t hear him at all, the damned boat was so close. I shouted to him to repeat it.
“Have lunch with me,” I moved away from the shore but the boat slammed onto the beach in front of me.
He stood tall in the back of the speedboat. Two of his uniformed minion-kids sat behind the windshield to drive.
As the long speedboat lurched back into the waves, the front rose and I was thrown hard against him. I held him to steady myself. My heart thumped as my hand rested on the firm ripples of his stomach.
His body was big and hard against mine, and I felt protected like I had in the days when we lived together. Protected and excited, like when kids in the hall make remarks about me and he beat them up.
The huge swelling in his pants transfixed me. As I held tighter against him, the fabric of his pants was stretched tighter and harder.
His throat tightened and his breath seemed to thicken. When he rested his hand on my waist, the bulge moved up. He took his hand away again. I was sorry that he did.
We bounced hard over the white spume and the green waves. The water splashed under us and a cool spray dampened my face and my clothes as we sped in a wide arc out to the open ocean.
His shirt was damp, too and it clung to his skin. He had a beautiful muscular bod when we were younger. Now he was awesome, and breathtakingly
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