The Very Bossy Boys Next Door: Love Next Door: Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance, #2
By Chloe Kent
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About this ebook
It's all the rage, they told her. Women all over the world are doing it for outrageously large sums of money to obscenely rich men that would keep them cushioned in the arm of luxury for the rest of their lives.
For Amber Miller it's the perfect solution to all her problems. One night at a ritzy hotel with a nice smelling billionaire - because surely all billionaires must smell nice, and she'll be able to clear her deceased parents' inherited debt and keep the house her mother loved so much.
What could go wrong?
The return of the three very bossy boys who live next door!
They promised her dad they would look out for her when she was a little girl, and now all grown-up the promise still stands and that makes her completely off limits.
But when they discover the answer to her financial woes involves some rich schmuck touching her all bets are off.
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The Very Bossy Boys Next Door - Chloe Kent
The Very Bossy Boys Next Door
Chloe Kent
Copyright © 2021 by Chloe Kent
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Coming Soon: The Very Grumpy Boys Next Door
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About the Author
Author Links
Chapter One
Do you want us to spank you again, sweetheart?
His deep rough voice titillated her and drugged her senses. Blood raced to her cheeks, and the unfamiliar hot tightness between her legs blossomed, soaking her panties.
She nodded meekly, shy for wanting something so twisted and yet so darkly delicious at the same time.
Take your clothes off.
She tossed her head in the direction of the second man, and the sizzle in her skin doubled.
Trembling, she peeled the body-hugging dress off her shoulders and dragged it over her hips until she stood in only a set of crimson underwear.
Everything,
a third man said, his tone hoarse as their focus lingered on her semi-nakedness, creating zaps of heat wherever they looked.
She didn’t think she could take a minute of it any longer. The triple intensity made her want to do two things, run and hide her shame for being so desperately wet, or fall to her knees and beg them to do the dirtiest, most deviant things to her body.
She removed her bra, and her nipples, already pebbled, ached anew. She almost died from embarrassment at their sudden, sharp indrawn breath, which then slowly rumbled out of their broad, muscular chests when she left a wet trail against the inside of her thigh as she pulled off her drenched panties.
Her new perfume, one she was experimenting with, mingled with the scent of her arousal, and she lowered her eyes as they inhaled the air around her.
Good girl. Now come over to the desk for us.
Her taut nipples hurt for attention, and with her limbs like jelly, she slowly made her way to the desk on the other side of the room. As soon as she reached it, she gripped the edge like it was a lifeline.
Bend over and spread your legs.
Heat washed over her like lava, penetrating her skin until she glowed with indecent need as they closed in around her. The power in their bodies overriding every thought in her head except one. She needed them to touch her, or she was going to explode.
She closed her eyes and drowned in a sea of bliss as their hands came down all over her ass. Large, calloused palms covered the whole of her flesh and fed fuel to each and every nerve inside her until she burned so hot, her body glistened.
She gasped and sighed as they finally touched her. One of them reached around and weighed her nipple in his palm, driving her nuts until she pressed into his hand. He squeezed the peak forcing her to cry out, whimpering softly.
Fingers dipped into her dripping wet core. Someone else stroked her clit with deceiving gentleness. And yet another delivered hard spanks to her ass that made her sway, the walls of her core tighten around the fingers inside her and her clit purr with chaotic delight.
Matthew...
Dex...
Owen...
She murmured their names as they littered her ass with red streaks she’d wear for days. They pulled her head back by her hair and sucked on the skin at the sides of her neck.
And with each strike, she coated their hands with the obscene wetness from her quivering center. She writhed across a blinding spectrum of splendor and pain and cried for the devastating pleasure only they could give her. So close... So...
Amber Miller jerked herself awake and instantly and soundly slapped herself.
Seriously?
Her whole life was falling apart, and she still had the time to dream that dream?
Granted, she had been sleeping horrendously poorly the last two nights trying to figure out what she was going to do, so falling asleep at her desk in the office of her deceased parents' flower shop, once she closed the doors for the day, seemed plausible enough.
What was not plausible was dreaming that dream.
Oh sure, Matthew, Dex, and Owen, the overly cocky and extremely bossy boys who had lived next door to her had spanked her once before. But that was three years ago when she was eighteen, and it had not gone down the way it had in her dream. Not at all.
No, her dream was the result of devouring romance novels for anything to do with spanking, and that was what had infiltrated her subconscious, which she couldn’t seem to purge herself of three whole years later.
No, the three foster brothers, a decade older than she was, and who had been adopted by a Russian couple, the nicest people Amber had ever met, were not interested in her that way at all.
The only thing they were concerned about was the sparseness of her clothing, what she might flash, which boy was bothering her, even if he wasn’t and had only just politely asked her out. Since she was a little girl, her dad had appointed them her bosses. But now that both her parents had died, her dad just a year ago, she guessed that responsibility must have fallen away for them.
She hated that they treated her like their little sister next door and basically foiled all the adventures they thought she was too young to experience, from dragging her out of a party when she was fourteen because somehow, they had learned that alcohol had made it onto the guest list, to the day they decided she needed to be spanked because her wrongdoing was too monumental for her to get away unscathed.
Nope, the spanking they gave her was absolutely nothing like her dream at all, and she remembered the reality of it too clearly in all its humiliating detail and would remember it for all her years to come.
Matthew. Dex. Owen. Also known as the Baskin boys, Baskin being the Russian surname of their adoptive parents.
Some girls, okay, all the girls, just naturally laid themselves down at their feet in the worst case of supplication Amber had ever seen, and it made her want to puke. There was nothing pretty-boy about them. They were huge and rugged, and maybe it was their air of mystery and aloofness that attracted every single girl they came across. Well... not her.
Matthew’s deep-sea-green eyes, tinged with a dark dangerous streak she could never understand, with her limited experience, did nothing for her. Nor Dex’s honey-gold one’s that held secrets, which bothered her because she knew whatever she saw in them could undo her in the worst way possible. Owen’s sultry, gray eyes seemed to peer right into her soul when he looked at her, trapping her until she wanted to open herself to them all.
She didn’t like their tattoos either, spread over their taut, hard, defined muscles, or their swaggering confidence. She may have followed them around with puppy dog eyes when they moved in next door when she was merely six years old and thought she was going to marry all three of them when she grew up, but that changed when they succeeded in ruining her newfound coolness and credibility and made her the laughingstock of the mean-girls' club yet again.
She didn’t want to leave high school with the reputation of being a Goody Two-Shoes even if she was exactly that. Just a silly little virgin with her head always buried between the pages of a book.
When she was invited to a party by a bunch of the most popular and beautiful girls at school, who then dared her to lose her virginity to Graydon Smith—the most sought-after, baddest boy in town, who had once dated a supermodel—she figured she had nothing to lose. He’d reject her. She’d become a recluse. She’d give the mean girls something to laugh over.
And so she had went up to him at the party, and with her heart pounding, she asked if he would like to go on a date with her. She almost keeled over when he smiled at her and said yes.
She had prepped for this with calculated precision. Had used all her babysitting money, saved over the years, to book herself into a top-notch spa, where she endured close to three hours of preening torture.
Of course, the end result seemed entirely worth it. Everything slid over her smooth, buffed, scrubbed, and waxed body. And she embarrassed herself every time she wanted to touch her ultrasmooth and velvety-soft mons. She had bought the sexiest underwear she could find and the skimpiest dress to match.
She had never felt more confident before. Until the three annoying boys from next door landed on the scene and had humiliated her irreparably when they dragged the gorgeous Graydon Smith off her by the nape of his head and flung him across the room, all before he could even just