Christmas with the Silver Fox Billionaires: Chapter 4

I’ve been so preoccupied with keeping our business afloat that I’ve not had time to think about this very moment. Wrapped in a simple, knee-length black dress with matching pumps, I walk out of my apartment building with a shivering confidence.

Cole, Toby, and Asher step out of the silver Lexus to greet me.

“Look at you, ready to steal the show,” Cole says, half smiling as he looks at me.

I tilt my head back to lose myself in the greenish blue pools of his eyes. “You give me far too much credit, sir.”

“You should give yourself more,” he says.

The way he says it sends playful chills down my spine. Toby opens the passenger door for me.

“Let’s get you out of this cold.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” I ask as I get in.

I ride shotgun while Cole drives, and his brothers occupy the backseat with their massive frames—the three of them clad in shades of grey and dark blue to match their piercing gazes and the silver specks in their hair.

“Dinner and a show,” Cole says, hands firmly gripping the wheel as he takes us on a ride across Midtown.

“What show?”

“You’ll see.”

“Playing your cards close to the vest,” I say and giggle nervously.

Asher leans forward, and I turn my head to look at him, instantly caught in the dark blue of his eyes. “It’s the element of surprise, Willow. But we’re certain you’ll enjoy it.”

“How are you certain? You don’t even know me that well.”

Toby laughs lightly. “Let’s just say you’re a bit of an open book.”

As soon as we pull up outside the cabaret theater, I understand precisely what they mean. I know this place. My interest is piqued.

“How’d you know?”

The Morgan brothers flank me with bustling confidence; faint smiles etched across their handsome faces as they look at me.

“You’re a powerhouse, Willow,” Cole says. “A strong, young woman who built her business from the ground up. You have certain appearances you need to keep up in public, especially when you’re dealing with prissy Hamptonites and upstate New Yorkers and their fancy weddings. But deep down, there’s a sizzling core of want and need written in your eyes.”

I’m briefly mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze, by the scent of musk and jasmine coming off him in subtle waves. I’m drawn by the broadness of his shoulders beneath his navy blue jacket.

Toby whispers in my ear. “He saw your post about this place from two weeks ago on your Facebook page. Your profile is public.”

“Ah.” I burst into laughter, realizing Toby is absolutely right. My profile is public, and I do remember casually sharing a post about the cabaret and their winter program.

Cole gives me a crooked, playful smile. “They’re doing the Red Velvet Cupcakes number tonight. I figured you’d want to see that one first. Rita Von Vanderburg is headlining the show.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I reply.

Once we’re inside, a hostess dressed in a ridiculously tight, red velvet bodycon dress welcomes us and escorts us to our table—front-row seats, mere feet away from the sprawling stage.

“Oh, wow, it’s quite something,” I mumble as I gaze around.

Our table features booth-style seating that hides us from sight. I imagine when they turn the lights down during the show we’ll have even more privacy, and I’m surprised by my dirty thoughts.

“We could kick things off with some champagne,” Cole says to the hostess as he and his brothers take their seats.

He sits close enough to me to keep me intoxicated with his fine cologne while Asher flanks my left side. Toby sits across the table, but his long legs still make it easy for our knees to discretely touch.

“I agree,” I say with a slight nod.

Five minutes later, a waitress in tight black velvet brings the champagne over, along with four glasses, then leaves us with the menus. “The show starts in about an hour, so you have plenty of time to order whatever you desire.”

“Yes, eating while Rita Von Vanderburg takes a dip in a giant champagne glass,” Toby chuckles softly. “I don’t mind it one bit.”

By the time the first course of our dinner arrives, the conversation is sparkling and sprinkled with heavy laughter as we talk about what it was like for me to date their stepbrother. I wasn’t that open about it at first but seeing the ease with which they talk smack about Terrence, I relax and recount the experience.

“He never gave me flowers,” I say at one point. “Oh, gosh… I shouldn’t be talking like this. We’re supposed to be on a date.”

“We are on a date. We can talk about whatever we want,” Asher says. “We saw very little of you two when you were engaged. We’re trying to understand precisely how much of a loser he is. Fumbling a woman like you is unconscionable.”

“Asher, you’re too kind. I’m far from perfect.”

“No one is perfect. But you’re hardly the kind of creature a man in his right mind would toss aside, certainly not in that manner,” he replies with a deep frown. “Truth be told, when our father married Sheila, we weren’t too happy, mainly because her kid was already troublesome. From prep school to college, plenty of donation checks were signed and slipped to the deans to keep that idiot enrolled. When he first announced that you two were dating, we were genuinely intrigued.”

“Terrence isn’t the kind of man who can attract a good woman,” Toby agrees. “It was a mystery.”

“How did you know what kind of woman I was?” I ask, genuinely curious. They seem to know a lot more about me than I do about them.

Cole gives me a cool smile. “Remember, your social media profiles are public.”

“But that just skims the surface; it’s barely a façade,” I reply.

“Not with you. You’re genuine. I could tell from what you post on a daily basis: things that interest you, inspire you: design, theater, great music, and various social and political issues that most women in their twenties know or care little to nothing about. It doesn’t take a forensic psychologist to recognize your depth, Willow. Give yourself a little more credit.”

For a moment, I’m stunned, imagining Cole late at night, scrolling through my social media, discovering me, studying me, showing interest in what gets my mind ticking.

It turns me on.

“Refill?” I ask Asher, and he gladly obliges before he orders a second bottle.

The champagne flows freely, the floral spirit working its way through my system and gradually loosening every knot in my body, including the ones in my tongue.

“Yeah, so Terrence was just not what I expected at first. I kept thinking, hoping it would get better. There were so many things I overlooked because his attention flattered me for some reason, until I realized that marrying him would’ve held me back.”

“But he beat you to the punch by calling it off,” Cole sighs. “And he chose to do it publicly to humiliate you.”

“You stepped in, though. I did not see that coming.”

“We had no other choice. Not with you, Willow. You’re too special to let someone like Terrence mistreat you in any way,” he says.

I can’t help but blush as I finish the last of my Italian-style bruschetta bites. “Well, I’ll admit, I didn’t mind getting asked out by three of New York’s finest,” I tell them. “Even now, I consider myself fortunate to be in your company. I’m pretty sure I bagged the handsomest guys in this theater.”

“And we’re just getting started,” Toby says, stretching his legs underneath the table until his rock-hard calves brush against mine. I can feel them through the fabric of his slacks, and the sensation causes a hum deep within my core as our gazes lock.

I feel his brothers’ eyes on us, too. I can almost hear it. The whispered promise of what’s to come.

“You said your parents died when you were little,” Cole says, lowering his voice as the lights go off and the waitress clears our table, leaving only the drinks and the dessert menus to check during intermission. “I’m sorry you had to grow up without them. It couldn’t have been easy.”

“At least I didn’t get lost in the foster system,” I reply with a shrug. “My aunt Mary took me in, raised me like her daughter. She never wanted kids, being so focused on her career⁠—”

“Mary Woodrow, right, the marketing mogul?” Toby raises an appreciative eyebrow. “I took one of her seminars at Hudson University a few years back, just to brush up on the basics for my up-and-coming bike shop. The woman knows her stuff.”

“Oh, she spearheaded several major campaigns for some huge clients, Meta and Amazon among them,” I say with a broad smile. “But she still made time for me and she made sure I was well taken care of while she was away, too. It got lonely sometimes, I’ll admit, but Mary loved me unconditionally. She still does.”

“There’s plenty to love in a woman like you. And given the way you’ve handled yourself in a very competitive business environment, I’m pretty sure she’s proud of you and then some,” Asher states.

“She is,” I say. “We talk once in a while and I bring her up to speed. She books dinner for us at the Ritz whenever she’s in town. I haven’t told her about the loss of clients since the charity gala, though.”

Asher shakes his head slowly. “All we can do is apologize on Sheila’s behalf. She can be a nightmare sometime, a gratuitous, fucking nightmare.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I say, my brow furrowing slightly. “Here’s to hoping she’ll get over it sooner rather than later, especially now that I’m organizing Terrence and Katrina’s wedding.” I chuckle. “It’s not what I had on my bingo card for this Christmas, I’ll say that much.”

Cole narrows his eyes, staring at his glass for a moment. “I do wonder what her endgame is. With hiring you, that is. There is an endgame, for sure.”

“Dominance, perhaps? Her way to prove she has the power to make or break me,” I surmise with a casual shrug. “I’ll rise to the challenge, but I hope Terrence or Katrina won’t be the stuff of nightmares for the next few weeks.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Toby says with unshakable confidence. “Our little stepbrother knows not to piss us off.”

“Let me guess. You three keep him in line.”

“We do a lot more when needed,” Toby admits.

When Rita takes the stage, we’re two bottles of champagne in and infinitely more relaxed than when we started. I’ve learned enough about Cole, Asher, and Toby to respect them even more—not just for swooping in the way they did, but for treating me so well and making me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.

Rita soon captures our attention with her sensual choreography and dazzling accessories. Diamonds and rubies glisten across the corset, her hips swaying to the smooth music, her long legs taut with every stretch, as her stilettos cast a reflection over the luscious, black floor.

I love her style, her confidence.

In the nineties, she would’ve been called fat. Today, she’s a starlet of vaudeville, performing at high-end venues that are almost always sold out, and she even launched a lingerie line that has spiced up its share of marriages over the past few years.

Her moves hypnotize me, and when I glance around me to see if the Morgan brothers are equally enticed, I find them mostly looking at me. Watching. Admiring. Half smiles on their faces.

“The only difference between you and Rita is that she fully embraced her figure,” Cole says, his lips brushing against my ear.

The effect is immediate; a fire ignites in my chest as I soften in his close proximity. “I was caught off guard,” I say. “Otherwise, I never would’ve allowed Terrence to treat me that way.”

“I know, but that’s over. What matters is what you do now, in this moment,” he replies as the music floats through the air. “We’ve made our intentions clear, Willow. How will you respond?”

He kisses the side of my neck, and I moan softly, an unexpected reaction, one I cannot control, as his fingers trail up my thigh.

We’re in public; there are people everywhere around us. But no one is watching, and the high sides of the booth add an extra layer of intimacy. It’s so naughty, so delicious, to even think about how far we could take this.

“I’ve shown my share of restraint and composure. They didn’t help me much,” I say to him. “Might as well see where this takes us.”

Cole kisses me, deeply, hungrily, our tongues clash, as unbridled passion sizzles between us. Asher’s hand moves up my left thigh, and he trails kisses along the side of my bare neck.

When I turn my head to meet him, he lets out a heavy sigh out. “You’re going to drive us wild, Willow. I can tell.”

“How? How can you tell?”

Under the table, I feel Toby lift my leg and remove my stiletto shoe, gently but purposely massaging my foot. His touch sends chills up my spine, causing liquid heat to pool between my legs as I look at him. The ravenous hunger in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.

The chemistry isn’t just palpable; It’s explosive and is eager to consume.

The further we go, the more I allow, and the harder it is for me to remember who I was when we first met, when I said yes to this date, when I chose to move forward rather than focus on being wounded.

“Because your body speaks to us in a language we understand,” Asher says.

His hand slips between my legs. His fingers find my lace panties already soaked while a tightness grows in my lower half, a desperate need to be filled.

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper as his fingers press against my clit, finding it swollen, even through the soft fabric.

Cole cups my cheek and pulls me into another kiss. “You can’t lie to us, Willow.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You smell sweet, like honey and orange blossoms,” Asher whispers and lets his tongue trail invisible, slick patterns all the way down to my collarbone.

I tilt my head back and let Cole’s tongue expertly tangle me into a heated frenzy, while Toby leans slightly forward so his hands can massage my calf and reach for that soft, inner part of my knee. I’m clenching tighter and tighter, begging for release, when all three men pause and move back.

“No…” I manage. “Why’d you stop?”

My heart almost collapses. Asher’s fingers needed to finish what they started.

“We’ll have dessert first,” Toby says. “And then we’ll move this to my place, if you’re agreeable.”

“If I’m agreeable…”

“You decide, Willow. It’s all up to you,” Cole says.

Toby’s penthouse in Upper Manhattan is massive. Sprawling over one corner of the twentieth floor, it has a gorgeous view of the city at night, all skyscrapers and twinkling lights. A solitary moon watches from above while the shadows of Central Park deepen in the darkness.

I stand before the floor-to-ceiling windows, buzzed from the champagne, as I let my bare feet grow accustomed to the cool, hardwood floor. It feels nice after an entire evening wearing high heels.

“You have a beautiful view,” I tell Toby.

He sits on the sofa, glass of whiskey in his hand and his deep grey shirt unbuttoned, giving me a look at his rippling chest covered in intricate tattoos. I finally see the continuation of the black lines I saw earlier peeking above the collar.

Asher sits in a chair across from him, nursing a glass of his own and looking equally comfortable. Both watch me with silent hunger, fires blazing in their eyes, as Cole approaches me.

“You’re the only view I need,” he says.

His lips crash into mine, and everything we’ve kept bottled up until now comes flowing, fizzing, and spreading through my veins like wildfire. His hands roam over my body, touching, squeezing, pinching, and memorizing every inch of me, as he unzips the back of my dress and peels it off.

I steal glances at Asher and Toby. They’re loving the view, sipping their whiskey. I see the thickening bulges in their pants, and I realize they’re hard as rocks as I’m reduced to wearing nothing but my matching lace bra and panties—the latter drenched with arousal.

“I never imagined I’d experience something like this,” I whisper.

“We’ll go slow. Nobody’s rushing us. We’ve got all the time in the world,” Cole replies, kissing me feverishly as I help him out of his shirt.

I let my hands explore the chiseled lines of his torso, silver and black hairs tickling my fingertips as he removes his pants, and they fall to the floor. My body aches for more, and I wrap my arms around his neck. He deepens the kiss, his breathing heavy, as he removes my bra, releasing my breasts, cupping and squeezing them.

His groan sounds in my ear as his hips tilt forward. His gargantuan erection nestles against my belly as I brace myself for what will inevitably come next. With a shy tremor, I reach down and try to wrap my hand around his cock. He’s so hard and thick, I can barely grasp it.

“Come here,” Toby says, his voice low, almost a rumble.

Cole gently nudges me toward the sofa, then hooks his fingers through the satin lace of my panties and pulls them down. They drop to the floor, and I neatly step out of them. Then I’m somehow gently shoved backward, until I’m sitting on the sofa.

“Oh, fuck,” I moan harshly as Cole kneels in front of me and takes my nipple in his mouth.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Willow,” Asher says as he removes his underwear, and I see his erection spring free. He strokes himself, enjoying this show, and it turns me on to the point where I feel that I might lose my mind. “Every inch of you needs to be spoiled.”

“Don’t stop,” I beg Cole as he suckles my right nipple, then moves on to the left, his hands sliding downward. He finds my pussy, hot and slick, and begging for his attention.

He pauses to look at me, embers burning like blue alchemist fires in his eyes. “You were meant for this,” he says, then kisses me again while his fingers slip between my wet folds.

“Right there,” I manage, his thumb circling my clit while his index and middle finger probe my entrance.

I’m driven out of my mind. I’m so hungry and obedient, I’m willing to do anything for a release. I’m on the razor’s edge, tiptoeing toward a shattering orgasm, as Cole trails kisses down my body again.

He tastes every inch of my bare skin, letting his fingers brush gently over the fine stretchmarks that frame my hips before he dives face-first into my pussy. I cry out in sweet agony when his tongue flicks over my clit. His mouth makes sweet love to my flesh, lips closing around the swollen nub. He sucks it harder and harder, his tongue pressing while his fingers enter me, test me, explore me on a deeper level.

“Let go,” Asher beckons me.

I look at him; he and Toby have their massive cocks in their hands, watching. They were nowhere this turned on during Rita’s performance, and that makes my heart swell as I understand the truth: I’m the star tonight. I’m the object of their desire.

And my total pleasure is their supreme objective.

“You taste like the best kind of addiction,” Cole growls, then finger-fucks me into oblivion. I raise my hips to meet his capable fingers as he goes deep and suckles my clit until, finally, I explode.

I come hard and gushing, panting and heaving, as I ride the wave, as the orgasm crashes through my body and mind, and I hold onto Cole’s powerful shoulders and beg him.

“I need you inside me right now.”

“Right now?” he asks, his lips, glistening with my juices, stretch into a smile.

“Right now, please.”

A split second later, he’s on top of me, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he splits me in half. I hold my breath, stunned by his sheer size—all of him deep inside me, a perfect, maddeningly marvelous fit.

Our eyes lock as Asher and Toby move around to flank me. My hands reach for them, fingers tangled in their black and silver locks, as they each take one nipple in their wet, hot mouths. Their rugged beards tickle. Their teeth nibble and send stinging sensations through my torso as Cole fucks me harder, deeper.

“Oh, God,” I manage as my breasts bounce with every thrust, and the twins keep a tight hold. They have me pinned down to the sofa, while Cole pumps me full of him.

Every inch, thick and hard, filling me.

Stretching me.

Sending me into the deepest ocean of pure ecstasy. Cole grunts as he watches me unravel before him, as he pounds into me, harder and deeper and faster, until the edges of reality blur into darkness.

I hold onto his brothers, a thousand intricate sensations bursting through me at once, as Cole smiles and goes even harder.

“You were made for us, Willow, every inch of you,” he says.

His breathing becomes ragged, his brow furrowed. I can feel him swelling even thicker inside me. I cry out, shuddering and quivering, a second orgasm dismantling me as he stiffens and spills deep into me.

His brothers lie back while caressing my body. Their hands always moving. Fingers always touching.

“This was just a taste,” Cole reiterates.

“I want the whole deal,” I tell him.

He smiles. We kiss, softly, slowly, glowing, with our bodies glued to each other. The air grows hot and thick around us as I take deep breaths and settle into my new reality. The Morgan brothers want me.

And I want all three of them.