Chapter twenty
Russell’s Penthouse, The Level
Samantha
The tense atmosphere dissipates slightly, and I drop my hands from both brother’s chests.
How two men can be so alike but dissimilar takes my breath away.
They offer comparable but completely different things.
Connor is strong and stable; he treats me with kindness and respect while ravishing my body in the bedroom.
Russell has an intense persona that makes my hair stand on end within a few feet of him.
He’s so in control but unhinged; life with him would never be boring.
Both men leave me with no doubt of being wanted, but they show it in very different ways.
“Shall we discuss the situation at the hospital?”
Connor suggests in his usual calm manner.
Russell nods, then starts to limp toward the sofas.
We watch as he cautiously lowers himself down and discards his crutches on the floor.
I walk over and pull the small footrest to where he sits, then carefully lift his injured leg so it’s resting elevated.
“Thanks, Trouble,” he says, and I feel the excitement those words create bubble in my chest. “I’m fucking lucky to have a professional nurse at my disposal.”
“My rates will need to be agreed upon,” I tease, and he flashes me a cheeky smile. When either of these men focus on me, my awareness of anyone else in the room disappears. I find myself acting naturally as if it was only the man I’m looking at and myself.
“Do you want to be paid in cash or pleasure?”
Connor, clearing his throat, breaks the moment. He joins us at the sofas, taking my hand and guiding me to the one opposite his brother. We sit together, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Russell and I have discussed the situation at the hospital,” Connor begins, and I stiffen slightly. The idea of them discussing me and my work is an uncomfortable one. “We think you should quit.”
“No,” I snap, instantly annoyed by his meddling.
“Sam, it’s dangerous. I won’t have you put yourself in harm's way.” His grip tightens, and he pulls me hard against his body. “I can’t lose you. If the last week hasn’t proven that, I don’t know what will.”
“I’m already involved,” I tell him. “Me being on the inside legitimately could be a benefit. Don’t disregard the possibility out of fear.”
Russell doesn’t contribute; he sits quietly, listening to our opinions.
I focus on him, and he stares back impassively.
“Is this your honest opinion? Or are you agreeing to keep the peace?” I ask him.
“When have I ever done anything to keep the peace?” he answers with a shrug.
“So you think I should leave the job and training you paid for?”
“I can afford to lose the money, Trouble. There’s plenty more to fund a placement elsewhere if required.” His lips quirk into a small smile. My heart strains a little; the knowledge he funded this opportunity still astounds me. “Though I’d much prefer if you specialized in nursing me privately.”
“Not going to happen,” I mutter, pissed at them for ganging up on me but grateful that they’re both here with me.
“However,” he says, “I did also say that you were a big girl capable of making her own decisions, and I wasn’t confident that you would leave on our suggestion.”
“You were right.” He chuckles softly, then his eyes move to his brother and he raises an eyebrow in jest.
“Told you so,” Russell goads.
“It was worth a try,” Connor replies with a sigh. “So what's the plan, then?”
I unwrap myself from his arm and sit forward. I move my focus between them before putting forward my proposal, one I know neither of them will appreciate.
“What if I gain information and pass it to you?” I say, my voice steady although my heart starts to race.
“No,” Connor snaps.
“There has to be information at the hospital. In her office. We need to find out what is going on and stop this insanity now.”
“Law enforcement does, you don’t.”
I glare at Connor, and he does the same right back. Overprotective asshole.
“I’m involved in this, Connor, whether you like it or not. My place of work, my boss, is wrapped up in something dangerous. She was being threatened by mobsters under my nose. I can’t stand by and let this pass over my head as if nothing is happening.”
I push myself up to stand, then walk over to the half-drunk bottle of whiskey, lifting it from the table.
The two men watch as I unscrew the cap, place the glass on my lips, and drink.
Russell extends a hand in my direction. I move to him, pass him the bottle, and he does the same before offering it to his brother.
Connor leans forward and accepts the bottle before taking his swig.
“What if someone innocent gets hurt?” I say.
“Like you, you mean?” Connor shoots back.
“You’re innocent in all this. You accepted a job offer, nothing more. I won’t have you hurt.”
He pauses before adding, “Or worse.” He sits back in his chair, lifting a single hand and running it through his dark hair.
The sound leaving his lips is somewhere between a sigh of inevitability and a groan of annoyance.
“She’s going to do this, with or without us,” Russell tells his brother as if I’m not there.
They look at each other with the kind of understanding only siblings have.
Silent words pass between them, a full discussion from simple expressions and gestures.
“We’re beaten. Nurse Coleman has our arses whipped into submission.”
His explanation makes me giggle, and they both glance over. My mouth dries as two of the most stunning men I’ve ever known look at me as if they want to rip my panties off. What makes my stomach flip is the knowledge that they do, and I’m going to get the opportunity to experience both of them.
“We’re going to have to support this hair-brained scheme, aren’t we?” Connor says to his brother with a knowing look.
“For the sake of having our dicks sucked, I think so.”
I freeze on the crude statement, waiting for the fire to ignite and the uncomfortable atmosphere between them to return.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t. Connor laughs, then shakes his head.
A genuine lightness appears on his face, and I relax a little.
“You’re such an arsehole,” he mutters, then his eyes move back to me.
“Information gathering only, Sam. No idiotic attempts at stopping anything when you’re at the hospital on your own. Tell us everything. Every move, every operation, every person who enters that bloody place that makes you unsure.”
He swallows as if trying to contain words he doesn’t want to say.
“If you risk yourself, I will come down there and drag you out myself.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply in a low whisper, and his pupils dilate.
Casually, I step toward him, then lean down and place my lips on his cheek.
His hand lifts to mine, warm skin wrapping around my fingers and squeezing gently.
I turn, then move to his brother before repeating the same gesture.
Russell, however, cups my cheek, running his thumb a fraction below my eye.
The duplicated affection feels absurdly normal.
No one flinches, and there’s no obvious sign of discomfort.
When I rise, I’m aware of Connor standing. He walks to my side and places his hand on the small of my back. “I’m going to go back to my apartment,” he says. “Give you both time to settle in up here. I’ll see you later?” The simple statement is asked as a question.
“Sure,” I tell him with a small smile. He leans down to peck my lips then turns to his brother and extends a hand. The two men shake firmly.
“I’m trusting you with what I cherish most in this world because it’s what she wants. Don’t fucking screw it up. Hurt her, and I will make good on all those promises I’ve made to kill you.” I wait for Russell’s witty retort or open teasing. It doesn’t come.
“Understood,” he replies sincerely. Connor nods, then leaves. I’m left standing in the center of the penthouse with the man I shouldn’t want but have permission to have.
As the door clicks closed, Russell sighs dramatically. “Well, that was a little awkward,” he says. “Hopefully, this stuff will get easier. So, what do you want to do, Trouble?”
“Um…”
“I’d offer you rampant sex or to go dancing, but I’m kind of hindered just now.”
He gestures to his cast. “But I’m sure I can manage to give you a tour of my home.”
He leans down and collects his crutches from the floor; strong fingers wrap around the handles after sliding his arms into the grips.
I bend and gently help him lift his cast leg from its resting place before he pushes himself up.
He towers above me as I stand in front of him.
“I meant it when I said you look good in here.”
The energy in the room increases a notch as we stare at one another.
We’ve been in close proximity before, but today is different.
Today is day one of a new us, a time beginning when we can discover what this truly is.
Whether what Russell and I have is simple lust or if the feelings that scream to be acknowledged are more than that.
If there’s a possibility to care for and, ultimately, love two men.
But that possibility doesn’t change the sad reality that, one day, they will want me to choose.
Russell hops to my left and then moves toward the open-plan kitchen area, which is similar to his brother’s but bigger. More work surfaces, cupboards, and machines are laid out and ready to use. “Do you like to cook?” I ask him.
“No, I just like to look as if I do. This is Mrs. D’s domain. She prepares everything so I only have to warm it up. Other than that, I live on telephone orders.”
“That’s unhealthy,” I scold. He stops and then turns to face me. “Fast food isn’t a sustainable diet.”
“I didn’t say it was fast food.” He reaches for a drawer and pulls it open.
Inside, there’s a pile of restaurant menus.
He lifts the bundle out then holds it in my direction.
“Have a look through those and tell me what you want to eat. They all deliver.”
I take them from him and start to scan through the array of cuisine on offer from high-end restaurants around the city.
“But these aren’t delivery menus,” I question.
“No, they’re restaurant menus, but for certain clients they’ll make a special effort.” He flashes me a cheeky smile. “I am one of those clients, and now, you are too.” Butterflies flutter in my chest as he refers to me as being part of all this. That what he has, somehow I’m now part of.
“This one,” I say. I place all the menus on the counter and push a simple Italian option toward him. Some of the others had descriptions that made no sense to me, so I decided to go for what I knew. “I’d be happy with pizza.”
“Good choice; I’ll organize it.” He pulls his phone from his pocket before tapping the screen and raising it to his ear.
“Are you not going to ask me what I like?”
“I know how you like your pizza, Trouble.”
I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes at him for his presumptuousness. I listen on as he tells the person at the end of the line the exact way I like my pizza: with extra cheese and a double portion of pineapple. He orders a few accompaniments, then disconnects the call.
“How do you know that?” I ask him, trying to keep my tone a fraction pissed. Secretly, I am happy that he notices the small things.
“You would be amazed by what I know,” he says, stepping toward me and placing a crutch on either side of my body.
He stands insanely close, then warm lips meet mine in the middle of his kitchen.
His kiss is gentle, our lips intertwining before our mouths open and tongues begin to explore new territory.
One crutch falls to the floor, and he pulls me to him but winces in pain with the sharp movement.
“Be careful,” I whisper against his lips. “You’re injured.”
“It’s okay, Trouble. I’m fucking a nurse.” I laugh out loud and he smiles goofily. His manner and expression are miles away from the grumpy, obstinate lawyer I met months ago, the man who appeared to hate everyone and only want to cause distress.
“You will be, but it won’t be anytime soon. We need to ensure you’re healing properly first.”
“Trouble, it’s my leg that’s broken, not my cock. He’s still in perfect working order.”
His hand drops to my ass and pulls me forward forcefully so my stomach is tight against his swelling dick.
My arousal heightens as the tension between us morphs into need.
This man, whom I’ve kept at a distance for months, is here, and he wants me.
“Let me show you the bedroom,” he whispers, dropping his lips to my ear.
His warm breath tickles my skin, then his mouth lowers further and he places a single kiss on my neck. “This way.”
He releases me, wobbling backward, then moves in the direction of the bedrooms. He pushes open the first door, which opens wide into the biggest bedroom I’ve ever seen.
In the center is a super king-sized bed draped in red and black satin.
The headboard extends up the wall in black velvet, stitched intricately in glittering red thread.
A large matching sofa sits to one side with a low black glass table.
On the far wall, there are floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view for miles over London.
He gestures for me to enter and as I walk into the room, the door clicks closed behind me.
I move to the windows, looking out at the roof garden which sits on top of the apartment below on the other side.
He appears behind me, standing close enough I can feel him.
His hand reaches past and connects with a small silver panel on the glass, and it slides open, allowing access to the garden.
I gasp at the movement, and Russell chuckles.
“This is my favorite place,” he says quietly. “I can’t wait to share it with you.” We both step out into the cold London evening; the skies are darkening as the sun disappears for another day.
The roof garden runs down the full length of the apartment before disappearing around the corner.
Russell heads in that direction, weaving between the perfectly pruned plants and modern statues that decorate the area and provide a zen-like quality.
Hidden at the rear, I’m stunned to find a small infinity pool.
Only around five meters long and perhaps three wide, it’s located on the edge of the building.
But what’s most breathtaking is the glass wall that encases it, meaning when in use, you can swim to the perimeter and look out over the city.
“Do you like to swim?” he asks, his voice quiet but hopeful.
“Yes, but surely at this time of year, it’s a bit cold.”
“Trouble, in what world do you think I wouldn’t have a heated pool? We can use this at all times of the year. You just tell me how hot you like it, and I’ll make it happen.” His words are laden with sexual innuendo, and I giggle like a schoolgirl.
“Are we still talking about the swimming pool?” I ask.
“Perhaps, as I do plan to fuck you in it once I have this bloody thing off.”
He signals to his cast. My mind whirls as naughty thoughts of him taking me against that glass wall flit through my head.
My nipples harden beneath my top in excitement.
One thick finger flicks the bud through the material, and he smirks.
“Those nipples of yours are better than words; one look at them, and I know exactly what you’re thinking. And they’re telling me you like that idea.”