The Bullion Brothers: Billionaire triplet brothers interracial menage Read Free Page A

return. His golden beard made him look like the man from Gush .

    In Manhattan, that kind of a chance meeting never happens. Not to me anyway, and not to anyone I knew. He pointed. I looked around, he must have been waving to someone else. Me, misreading signals again. I didn’t see anyone, and he was still pointing, towards the marina.

    I knew that he must be gesturing to someone out of my view, but I gave him a friendly wave goodbye as I turned back. Then I heard a man’s voice in the distance. It sounded familiar. It sounded as though he was calling my name. He couldn’t be

    But he was. “Maya!”

    I looked back up. That really couldn’t be my arrogant companion from the gallery opening, shading his eyes on the front of the yacht. It couldn’t be. He called out again, “Maya! Wait for me!” and his voice carried easily across the water. He turned and headed towards the rear of the boat. It wasn’t a short walk.

    A motor launch was winching out at the far end of the yacht, and as soon as he reached it, he climbed into the launch and it began to lower into the water. The boat reached the river and was released from the winch and I heard the engine start.

    I stood transfixed, plucked out of my miserable meandering as I watched the big man expertly steer the long, sleek wooden launch to the shore. As he jumped out, he seemed to tie the boat up in a single, fluid movement.    

    A thrill that I tried to suppress ran through me, watching the lithe skill he displayed. Then he strode rapidly up the gray wooden jetty towards me, pointing again at the café.  

    My teeth clenched. Is that how he treated everybody, I wondered, telling them what he wanted with nods and gestures and expecting them to comply? In spite of myself I waited at the entrance to the café.

    I watched his long, thick legs, beautifully draped in the white flannel pants. The top of his broad, dark golden chest peeked out of the loose white shirt. As he peeled off the sunglasses, his deep brown eyes locked into mine and my insides turned to jello.

    His arm stretched out and went around my waist. I realised too late that he was coming in for a European cheek kiss, or maybe a fashionable metrosexual hug. My arms were already as far around him as they would go and his scent was like a big leather armchair by a crackling fire.

    Feeling my soft, hot cheek against his warm, hard chest, my swelling breasts squeezed against his firm rippled stomach, and my arms tight around him, the emotions that I had been holding down and suppressing bubbled and frothed over, and I let out a quiet sob. No blubberer, me, I held on just long enough to get some composure, then I pulled away.  

    It was a reluctant retreat, I admit it. My nipples had sent crackling sparks all the way into my panties. Standing there, holding him, enfolded in him, I had felt a tenderness, a huge strength, and I felt so safe, as though nothing could reach me there. Nothing but him. I felt as though something was growing between us. And something had been quite literally growing between us.

    Something hard and strong and very large had uncoiled and hardened against my stomach and it made my thighs quiver. If I had stayed pressed there against him for much longer, I don’t know what I might have done. Out there, in the broad daylight.

    I needed to recover myself. In spite of everything he was the perfect gentleman. He said, “Maya, I think you might like something to eat. Perhaps you’d allow me to buy you lunch.”

    His low, honeyed voice melted my insides. At that moment, he could have finished his sentence any way he liked. Perhaps you’d allow me to…  Yes, I probably would. I would likely have agreed to just about anything he could have said.

    He guided me into the café in the sharp morning sun, and he sat across a metal table from me. I had no appetite, but he told the waiter to bring me coffee and a piece of lemon meringue pie.

    “Pie?” I said when the waiter had left,