TRIPLE PRINCES: An MFMM Menage Romance Page 8

  “Because girls who go to finishing school are often on the outs,” he said gently. “There are a dozen finishing schools, all filled with pretty young things hoping to make a good match. You think you’re the only one from a destitute family, who’s trying to pimp out their little girl to save the family fortune?” He snorted. “At any given time, there’s a fifty percent chance that the lady in question is a pauper, dolled up to look like a million bucks.”

  And I thought for a moment.

  “I don’t think so,” I said slowly. “I’m at Miss Carroll’s and none of the other girls are poor, they’ve got clothes, shoes and jewelry up to their eyeballs. Plus a bunch of my high school friends attend finishing schools in Switzerland, Luxembourg and the South of France, I know their families are rolling in it.”

  But the prince just shook his head.

  “Trust me baby, their families are just better at hiding it,” he said gently. “In fact, some families blow their last pennies putting their daughters in these schools, as an “investment” to revive their fortune. They buy their girls everything, the fanciest designer duds, the swankiest outfits, all in a last-ditch effort to attract someone loaded,” he shrugged. “Believe me honey, I’ve seen it up close.”

  And here, I gasped, sitting back, staring at him suddenly.

  “You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?” I asked slowly, realization dawning. “The made-to-order bride stuff, this isn’t your first rodeo, is it?”

  And he just grinned at me cheekily, showing those pearly whites.

  “That’s right,” he confirmed, this time with a positive smirk on that handsome face. “Besides, I’ve been a prime target since I was a kid. Ladies were lining up before I could talk, in the cradle still. That’s right, hopeful parents were throwing their baby daughters at my parents, sending gifts, dropping hints, in the hopes that a lucrative match could be worked out pronto.”

  And suddenly I felt dumb, really dumb. Of course Kristian knew. He was hot property on the Continent, one of the most eligible bachelors in Europe. Of course he knew how the system worked, girls from fading families had been hurled his way for years now, I just happened to be the latest in a string of impoverished Cinderellas.

  “So what’s stopped you?” I asked slowly. “You’ve been in the bull’s eye your whole life, why haven’t you picked one of these girls? Or is it,” and suddenly I stopped, dread overcoming me, “you’re looking to marry rich too?”

  And Kristian laughed even harder at that, practically bellowing now, I was sure people could hear us through the closed windows of the car.

  “Naw baby, my family’s good,” he threw out, smiling so hard I thought his cheeks might crack. “I’m good, no need to trot out the dollars for me.”

  And I slumped in my seat, mortified. Had I just implied that the St. Venetians were a crumbling royal house, that they needed dollars under the table? But Kristian continued.

  “In fact, my family’s pretty good at protecting our fortune,” he drawled. “They had you checked out before we set out this morning.”

  I gasped, turning to him.

  “They had me what?” I sputtered.

  “Checked out,” he said helpfully again. “It’s standard protocol for us, it’s not that weird if you think about it. Their Crown Prince is headed to a ghetto with a woman he’s never met before, of course they worked up a dossier on you, investigated you.”

  My face flamed.

  “A dossier?” I repeated dumbly. “You must be kidding. You’ve seen it? What’s in it?”

  “Nope, I haven’t seen it,” he said cheerfully, “but I know it exists. It’s probably pretty thin, I only met you yesterday, unless,” and here he paused dramatically, “there’s more about you than meets the eye.”

  And I was silent.

  “No, I think I’ve told you everything now,” I mumbled. “In fact, I think you knew everything before I even uttered a peep.”

  “Probably,” he said cheerfully, turning back to the road, “and ah ha, here we are now.”

  I was so astonished at the turn of events that I hadn’t registered where we were going. I’d assumed he was going to drop me off at Miss Carroll’s, it was early evening now and we’d been out all day, but instead we’d pulled up at a dive on the outskirts of town, a ramshackle building with the windows blacked out, a cement block with no distinguishing features except the thump of music ringing out from behind closed doors.

  I sighed. I was tired and the multiple revelations had me reeling.

  “Where are we?” I asked, resting my head against the car seat. “Where is this place?”

  “Nowhere,” Kristian cheerfully, “I just thought we’d stop for a drink before I dropped you off,” he said, jumping out of the car. “Come on,” he said, striding out and pulling open my door. “It’ll be fun.”

  And I got out slowly. I was dusty from our trip, my skirt crinkled from the romp by the side of the road, my hair messy. I ran my fingers through my brown curls self-consciously, trying to tidy the unruly mass, make myself a little more presentable. But Kristian couldn’t be deterred. He bent over and kissed me on the lips, breathing into my mouth.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, gazing into my eyes before taking my hand again. “Come on, you’ll like it here,” he said, pulling me towards the dingy building, a picture of a donkey on the door.

  And a blush ran over my cheeks, my heart jumping. I had no idea where we were, I’d just had roadside sex with a man I’d only known for hours, so why not? In this incredible roller-coaster that was my life, it was just the next adventure.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Karl

  We haven’t been ourselves recently, my brother and I. Our work didn’t suffer, we were just as sharp as ever, but being on the fucking boat was driving us crazy, our bodies buzzing, constantly alert.

  And it was because of the girl, the brunette we’d met that night in Andorra. Tina. Even her name ran in my mind ceaselessly, Tina Tina Tina, like the chime of bells, a melodic peal that wouldn’t stop.

  It should have driven me crazy but instead it just made me hungry, wanting more. Because I kept re-living our night together, taking the curvy brunette behind the Old Dog, ravishing her like she was the last woman on earth when in fact she should have just been one among many.

  Because it’s not like Kato and I are celibate. Usually we’re tearing it up on shore leave, chasing strange, getting it on with multiple women, working off the pent-up energy that comes with long weeks aboard a ship chock full of men. But things were different at our last stop, the energy gone, the pulsing male urge to hunt, drive, take, dissipated like a deflated balloon. We’d stopped by our usual haunt, the Grizzly, seating ourselves at the bar, ordering the usual.

  “Boys good to see you again,” growled Harvey. Harvey was a vet, a former merchant mariner familiar with the vagaries of the itinerant life. He knew what men like us wanted, what we needed, to keep up with the hard life. So he plunked two beers in front of us, sloshing the foam, and nodded towards the back.

  “There’s a new one,” he rumbled under his breath, gripping the bar. His massive forearms were covered with faded tats, running up and down like ladders, a faint greyish-green color. “Name’s Candy, hear she likes two.”

  And I nodded my thanks for his advance work. Because everyone knows our proclivities. My twin and I, we like doing girls together, letting them take the double pound, experimenting with creaming females two ways at once. Oh yeah, we always do the double team and girls never, and I mean never, say no. There’s often a shocked look at first, a breathy gasp of “Nooooo!” but then a soft, melty look comes into their eyes as they take in our massive forms, the ripped builds, the huge tents at our crotches.

  And it works for us like a charm. A girl’s cunny feels tighter if there’s cock in her mouth, the distraction critical as her I go at her from below, and god, when we bring on the ass play? It’s always good to have something to chew on as donkey dong is run up that back
hole, give her something to focus on as she’s violated in that dry, sweet spot.

  So Harvey had done us a favor, scoping out the new girl for us. This chick Candy was into double, huh? All the better, Kato and I hadn’t been laid in a while… since Tina in fact.

  So we swiveled on our bar stools, checking out the new girl. Hmm, not bad, a little thin but still okay, her boobs probably Cs, her hips a little narrow but maybe she could stretch. And what do you know, but the girl was looking back at us already, batting her lashes and jiggling her butt, squirming under our hot gazes.

  Without even saying anything, she stood as if mesmerized and made her way over to us.

  “Hey,” she breathed, looking us over. I knew what she saw. Two hard, hungry men, black hair, handsome as sin, looking like we could dominate her small form, swallow her and eat her alive … twice.

  “Hey,” was all I said back, my twin not saying anything at all. And with that, it was on. Candy was in my lap in a second, her little lips on mine, one arm reaching for Kato even as her hand slid up my thigh slyly.

  Normally this would have been a go, Kato and I would have dragged her outside, to a hotel, to our sleeping quarters, hell wherever, the back of the joint. But somehow, the chick’s kiss left me cold, unmoved, curiously uninterested. Her lips were dry, too thin, not the plushy, pillowy softness of Tina’s, like I was kissing a plastic mannequin with no verve, no vivid, pulsing life, begging for my touch.

  And her ass, that ass was just way too fucking bony, I could feel her skeleton jutting into my thighs, angular and pointy, sharp as razors. Fuck, this sucked. We wanted heft, juiciness, a round butt that would jiggle when you smacked it, let out a resounding thump if you dropped her hard on your dick.

  So Candy wasn’t it. She was right for some other dude, but not us. I broke off the kiss, scooting her off my lap, placing her back on her feet. The girl wobbled unsteadily, bracing a hand against the bar, looking up at us through glazed eyes.

  “What, what is it?” she breathed unsteadily. “I’m ready, I’m not on the rag, what’s holding you back?”

  And Kato snorted at her language. That’s the thing, we usually don’t mind dirty girls, but lately super-gritty wasn’t doing it for us. Sure, we want someone with a dirty mind, who’d roll around in the gutter with us, but we didn’t want her to be a full-on ho, a ghetto girl who’d never improve.

  So I kept my expression impassive and turned back to my drink.

  “Naw, just not feeling it baby,” I rumbled casually. “See ya around.”

  And surprisingly Candy flew off the handle then.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she screeched. “I’m just as good as any ho around here, what the fuck? You think I’m not enough?”

  This outburst was just more evidence that she was totally wrong for us, but Kato stepped in smoothly.

  “Of course you’re enough,” he soothed, pulling on his beer. “But just not for us.”

  And the woman went even more ballistic then.

  “Well, you’re not what I’m looking for either!” she screeched, her face mottling as she tugged the hem of her dress down, straightening out the bodice. “You two are poor sailors, you’ll never be anything,” she spat. “I’m looking for someone with possibility, a future, and you?” she said gesturing with her hands. “You’re just fat zeros.”

  And at that my hackles raised, Kato growling under his breath, our eyes shooting daggers.

  “We don’t hit women,” I said slowly.

  “But I’m tempted,” my twin finished.

  And the girl came to her senses then. Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she shot us a glare before slinking away, but not without one last parting shot.

  “I bet you’re gay!” she shrieked before the crowds surrounded her, obscuring her from our gaze.

  And my bro and I shared a look before we turned back to our drinks. Gay we definitely weren’t, and it was so off target, so absurd, that the slur didn’t even bother us.

  “Whatever,” he grunted.

  And I shrugged silently. To each their own.

  “Sorry man,” said Harvey, magically materializing with a dish rag in his hand, wiping the bar clean. “I really thought Candy was your type. Didn’t think it’d turn out such a shitshow.”

  “No worries,” I rumbled. “Doesn’t always work out, plenty of fish in the sea.”

  But that’s the thing. We didn’t end up with anyone that night, not at that port stop, and not at the next one either. Kato and I basically were celibate, living like monks, our thoughts consumed by only one woman, a brunette with hazel eyes. But where was Tina? How the fuck would we find her again? The chances were slim, we didn’t know her last name, her address, her anything … so it was impossible, come to think of it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tina

  Kristian pulled me inside the bar, his big form insistent, tugging on my arm.

  “Come on, you’ll like it baby girl,” he rumbled, “I promise,” he smiled, making googly eyes at me.

  And I had to laugh, he was so silly, so alpha and yet so silly at once. I’d literally just sucked him by the side of the road, let him run his big dick up my backside, and now here we were, laughing and comfortable like we’d been dating for years.

  “Kristian, stop!” I giggled, panting breathlessly, my voice trailing off as we stepped inside. Because this was no fancy hot spot. I mean, I wasn’t expecting razzle dazzle, but I wasn’t expecting something crass either. The place had sawdust on the floors, the furniture broken down and sad, the bartender a wizened old dude who’d seen better days.

  “Where are we?” I asked, shaking my head. Where were we indeed? It seemed crazy that a prince, a real live prince, would come to a dive like this.

  But Kristian just shook his head, shooting me a grin before nodding.

  “Yeah, I know what you think. This place is a secret, no one knows me when I come,” he confided.

  And I could see why. The guys inside were all farmers, literally wearing overalls in some cases, ten gallon hats on their heads. They looked totally uneducated, not exactly people who kept up with news and current events, reading the Wall Street Journal. So yeah, they probably wouldn’t recognize their Crown Prince, even if he appeared right in front of their noses. I sighed. It was mind-boggling that even in St. Venetia, an international hotspot known for its casinos and sophisticated clientele, there existed places like this.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Kristian nodded at the clientele, “but a lot of these dudes are rolling in it. Agricultural subsidies are the name of the game,” he said, winking. “Trust me, I’d know.”

  And I let out a small “mm-hmm” because it was in the news now how small-time farmers were actually millionaires due to government support, buying spoiled and leftover crops when there was oversupply. Who knew farming was so lucrative?

  So I just sighed and looked at the big man, hands on my hips.

  “The drinks here better be good,” I retorted, and the big man laughed, escorting me to the bar.

  “They’re excellent,” he assured me, making eye contact with the bartender. “Jonas, two bourbons,” he called out, and I scrunched my nose. Shit, I still wasn’t great with hard liquor, at Miss Carroll’s events we were only served wine and champagne, but hey, there’s always room for new experiences.

  So I downed my bourbon in one gulp, gasping as the liquor burned my throat, making Kristian laugh.

  “Slow, little girl, slow,” he rumbled, “there’s plenty of time.” But I shook my head. This was my chance to let loose before I was locked up again at the finishing school, a modern-day prisoner, and I wanted to make the most of it.

  “Again,” I demanded, and like magic, another shot appeared in front of me. This time I was even faster, gulping the amber liquid without letting it touch my tongue, shooting it into the depths of my stomach in one fell swoop.

  And the liquor must have worked quickly because when I put my glass down, I saw Kato and Karl, th
e two men I’d done at the Old Dog back in Andorra.

  “Kato?” I asked, befuddled. “Karl?”

  They looked amazing, tall, dominant, so handsome with their built physiques, the hard muscles outlined in tight t-shirts, jeans that showed off sculpted asses and long legs.

  And the twins just growled, staring back at me.

  “Tina?” they asked, looking at me and then Kristian, their heads swiveling.

  Because the resemblance was astounding, Kristian the spitting image of the twins, just as tall, just as muscular, with the same black haired/blue eyed combination. Plus, they had the same glare, the same menacing stare that was currently shooting sparks, growls low in their throats as they sized each other up.

  Never one to hold back, Kato spat out, “Who is this fucker?” nodding at Kristian. And before I could say “The Crown Prince of St. Venetia,” Kristian ground out, “None of your fucking business. Who the fuck are you and how do you know Tina?”

  That led to a moment of silence. How did the twins and I know each other exactly? I could hardly say we’d gotten it on next to a dumpster in back of a bar, that I’d let them drill me double, touch me everywhere. So I hemmed and hawed, mumbling, “Kato and Karl are friends of mine from back home. How is Andorra, Kato, Karl?” I asked, shooting them a meaningful glance while purposefully keeping my voice neutral.

  And they took the hint.

  “It’s good, little girl,” replied Karl, the smoother of the two. “It’s good, we left port the day after we saw you, but it was a good stay there.”

  And Kato was still glaring at Kristian but managed a tight nod, a short grunt, and that was enough. I took a deep breath.

  “Well, nice to see you again,” I trilled, seizing Kristian by the arm. “Come on Kris, let’s get out of here.”

  But the big man wasn’t put off.