Mister Moneybags Read online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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Why the fuck did it bother me? What kind of a man turns down a threesome with a woman he’s attracted to? Surely, a woman who was not territorial about a man whom she planned to sleep with, would be able to overlook the mere fact that I pretended to be two people. Oddly, I was less concerned with her accepting my apology now that she’d told me where her head was at. Yet, I was disappointed.

Disappointed in an offer for a threesome. You need your head examined, Truitt.

There was just something that I thought might be special with this girl. And not the type of special that entails her being okay with me sticking my dick in her and her friend all in one evening.

Shutting the page, I dove into my work. It was always the one thing I could lose myself in. Somehow, I’d managed to focus enough to study the financial forecasts of a company I was considering buying. It was late afternoon by the time I took a much-needed break. Josephine had delivered a turkey club to my desk a few hours ago, and I hadn’t wanted to risk coming up for air and being distracted by thoughts of Bianca again.

If you decide not to join, have a nice life, Mr. Truitt.

Her parting words replayed over and over in my head. I dug into my sandwich and scrolled through the texts on my phone as I ate. The first one was from Caroline.

Caroline: Dinner Saturday night? I have a charity banquet to attend.

I’d been blowing her off for a few weeks now, and my head was definitely not ready to have a conversation with her yet. Not responding, I scrolled to the next. It was from my dad asking me how I was. I typed a quick, bland response and went back to the remaining messages as I polished off my club sandwich.

Buried below a dozen other texts was one from Bianca. Only she assumed she was texting Jay, not Dex. At first, when I opened it, I was confused.

Bianca: Hey. Do you have plans for Friday night?

Jay immediately typed back.

Jay: No. What did you have in mind?

Bianca: Want to meet me and a friend for some fun at The Library Hotel at 7?

What the fuck?

It didn’t dawn on me until that minute. Grabbing my laptop, I opened the chat box from last night and frantically scrolled through our entire conversation. When she’d suggested a three-way with her friend, I’d assumed the third was a woman.

But there was no woman.

Bianca was fucking inviting Jay to a three-way with her and Dex.

When Friday night rolled around, I was no more prepared than I was the moment that she first dropped that bomb.

Shaving in front of my bathroom mirror, I lamented to my dog like a lunatic.

“Your friend is a freak, Bandit. You know that? An absolute freak!” I paused, shaking the water off my razor. Gesturing toward him with it, I said, “The thing is, the whole proposition just seems so out of character for her. But I guess it goes to show that you never really know someone. You can have dozens of intimate conversations with a woman you think is level-headed, and then they turn out to be a deviant.”

“Ruff!”

“The twisted thing is—and I’m only admitting this to you, no one else—it kind of turns me on at the same time. It’s like I wish I could be both men and fuck her simultaneously. Sick, right?”

“Ruff!”

“Yep. Ever hear the term, curiosity killed the cat? That’s about to happen to me tonight. I’m so goddamn curious about what she planned on doing to me that I can’t not show up. Because I’m a dog, Bandit. Just like you. All men are. But unlike you, I can’t lick my own balls. So, I make crazy fucking decisions like showing up for a threesome where I’m supposed to be two-thirds of the party.” I slapped some aftershave on my face.

“You know the other fucked-up part?” Laughing at myself in the mirror, I said, “I still don’t know if I’m showing up as Dex or Jay.”

Bandit howled and lay down.

“I know. Pathetic. Bet you wish you were frolicking upstate right about now, huh? Instead, you landed at the wrong farm—the crazy farm.”

Bandit followed me into the walk-in closet off of my bedroom. I stared at the line of designer dress shirts perfectly starched and organized by color from light to dark. My eyes then landed on a smaller line of clothes in the corner—Jay’s wardrobe, which consisted of jeans, casual shirts, and some hoodies. Since I still wasn’t sure what I was going to say or do when I got there, I needed to dress somewhere in the middle. I chose a fitted, camel-colored sweater and wore a collared shirt underneath. Dark trousers finished off the look. I sprayed some cologne on and fastened my watch.



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