Under Two Billionaire Brothers

By Jenika Snow

Max and Ian McKnight, billionaire brothers and playboys, can have any woman they want. And they pretty much have. Because of that, Lola Shyne knows she shouldn't want them in the worst possible way, and besides, she's their maid and a woman beneath their radar.

When Max and Ian show a sexual interest in Lola she knows it would be wrong to indulge, but her body is screaming to accept. At war with her mind and body, Lola finally succumbs to her arousal and gives in to the potent and addicting McKnight brothers.

But once it's all said and done Lola finds herself running from her feelings and the two men she left in her bed. Max and Ian aren't having any of that, not when they make it perfectly clear that they want more from her than just a one night stand.

Be Warned: menage sex (MFM), anal sex

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Jun 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781771304207

Book preview

Published by Evernight Publishing at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2013 Jenika Snow

ISBN: 978-1-77130-420-7

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JC Chute

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

UNDER TWO BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS

The Billionaires, 2

Jenika Snow

Copyright © 2013

Chapter One

Lola rolled her eyes and spritzed more window cleaner on the glass. She could hear them having sex right through the damn walls. If she had to hear them fucking one more time, she would quit. Well, no she wouldn’t, because she really needed this job and they paid her a shitload, but she would seriously scream and rip her hair out. The loud thumping of what she assumed was a headboard banging against the wall was so distracting, she couldn’t even focus on cleaning the damn windows. Her concentration was shot, and if she was being completely honest, she was so turned on she couldn’t think straight.

Being the weekend housecleaner for two of the wealthiest men in Pleasure, Colorado, (yeah, the irony wasn’t lost on her) should have been simple enough, but of course it wasn’t. She had been working for the McKnight brothers for a little over six months and every Saturday and Sunday morning, like damn clockwork, she could hear them tearing up some poor woman -- or two. Tearing might have been an understatement, because if the sound coming through the walls were anything to go by, it usually sounded like the woman was dying.

She grabbed her ear buds out of her pocket and slipped them in her ears. If she was forced to work in these ridiculous conditions, then she was going to tune it out. She ran her finger over her iPod and chose a song that best depicted her current situation. I Can’t Get No Satisfaction by The Stones blasted into her ears and blissfully blocked out all sounds of the debauchery in the next room.

An hour later she took a step back and looked at the study. Everything smelled of lemon disinfectant and shined like brand fucking new. Lola took her ear buds out and slipped them back in her pocket. The time showed a little after ten in the morning, and already her back ached and her stomach growled. She still had three other rooms to clean, too. At least the ‘fuck brothers’ were done with their weekend girlfriends. She left the study and made her way into the kitchen, figuring Ian and Max McKnight would probably be sleeping off their sex marathon until at least mid-afternoon. When she rounded the corner and saw both of them standing at the breakfast bar, she stopped in her tracks. Their backs faced her as they leaned over the counter, their attention on the newspaper. Of course they were shirtless, because there was no rest for the wicked. Her poor, neglected libido raised its head and growled in desire. She wanted to slap the bitch.

So what, if she hadn’t had sex since her last boyfriend -- which was one year, three months and sixteen days ago, but who was counting? Maybe she could sneak out and work on one of the other rooms until they decided to go find something productive to do? Like, for instance, not walking around the house shirtless and tormenting her. She planned on being all stealthy in her retreat, but of course the bottle of window