Page 18 of Gifted to The Billionaires

The idea of being taken care of in this state is so lovely to imagine. Has Nik really been looking forward to aftercare? He’s so sweet, I could burst.

Like some kind of spa day, the two of them pamper me in the shower. They massage me with soaps, scrubs, and oils, letting me lean on them so I don’t have to fully stand. They wash and condition my hair, detangling it with thick and creamy products.

When we get out, Cal blow dries my hair and Nik moisturizes my face. When he gets out a spare toothbrush, I almost think he’s about to try and do that for me as well. Luckily, he hands it to me and we all care for our teeth on our own.

Cal leaves Nik and me to go sort out our sleeping arrangements. We use the time to rub lotion on each other, rubbing our bodies thoroughly before getting dressed. He gives me an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers to slip into, and gives me some privacy in the bathroom to use the toilet.

I finish up quickly and go searching for my men.

My. Men. Have mercy, it feels amazing to think that!

When I find them, I see that they’ve shifted their modular sofa into one big bed shape and put it near the fireplace. It’s piled high with clean blankets and pillows, like a little nest to burrow in.

And that’s just what we do. We snuggle up, both of them holding me close as we fall asleep. The only sounds remaining through the night are our soft breaths and the soft crackling of the fire.

Best Christmas ever.

Chapter 7: Nik

Chances - Five For Fighting

I bring Ivy and Cal holiday breakfast in bed. Well, the makeshift couch-bed, but breakfast in bed nevertheless.

Cranberry pancakes with buttery maple syrup, bacon, and some scrambled eggs. Ivy is the chef of our little trio, but I’m quite competent in the kitchen. I’ve been cooking for Cal and myself for years now.

The food doesn’t last long, and neither do our clothes. As good as Ivy looks in my shirt, she’s glorious wearing nothing at all. Her body is a thing of dreams. I’m waiting for Cal to finish sending an email on his phone before I start mauling her again.

He’s letting everyone know that we won’t be bothered for the next few days. And I want him here next to us before going wild. Besides, I’m dying to see his lips wrapped around Ivy’s nipples. She loves having them sucked.

“What. The. Fuck!”

Oh shit.I wince.So much for not being bothered.

My head pops up from its place on Ivy’s bare stomach, finding Brett standing at the living room entrance.

Ivy squeaks and quickly hides her chest behind her arms. “Brett! W-what are you doing here?” she stutters.

“What amIdoing here?” he repeats, jaw ticking. “What areyoudoing here? You said you were sleeping in today! And where the fuck are your clothes?”

“Lower your voice,” Callahan warns, having dropped his phone. An email is the least of his worries at the moment. “Don’t speak with your sister in that tone.”

Brett makes a noise of distress when he gets a look at Cal. “Where the hell is your shirt? And yourpants!”

Finding us in this state is not how he should find out about this. Cal has briefs on and the only reason I’m even dressed is cooking bacon in the nude isnotsafe. Still, my sweatpants and tee are disheveled from the post-breakfast make out with my girl.

At least Ivy is half-covered with a blanket because I ripped off her panties like ten minutes ago. Small mercies that Brett is walking in on usbeforeI got to fucking her with my tongue.

Callahan sighs at our friend. “Look, why don’t you take a breath. Let us get dressed, and we can talk.”

“Talk?” he spits. “I don’t want to talk! I want both of you to get the hell away from my baby sister! What is this?”

The best thing that’s ever happened to me and my husband, that’s what.This is a lie-in with our future wife.

“Ivy—” he starts, but can’t finish.

“I love them,” she croaks. The confession is like a hand cracking in the air, smacking him on contact.

“I’m sorry that you found out this way, and I’m sorry that I lied about some other girl for them. But I’m not sorry that I love them, and I never will be. Please don’t look at me like this hurts you. Don’t tell me that following my heart hurts you, Brett. I n-need them.” She sniffles, fighting tears.

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