My 3 Rockstar Bosses

I got a good hand. Better than so many others. So should I feel bad that Heather Mastricci had this same hand and lost it? I don’t know. I guess it makes me human to care about someone else’s welfare. But my grandmother is also right – they tried. The Morgans tried to give her a head start on a new life, and Heather just won’t take it.

So life isn’t perfect. The Morgans aren’t perfect. I know that now. They’re gruff and demanding. They’re a bunch of workaholics, obsessed with wealth management and protective of the company they’ve built. And they have a past. Like all complicated human beings, they didn’t spring from the Earth like a blank page. They’ve led full lives, full of good and bad, and I’m a part of that pattern now. The past is the past. I care about how they make me feel, and that’s wanted. Cherished. Cared for.

I’m going to have to get used to the gossip, the looks. There will always be whispers of “slut” or “whore.” Or even horrified looks of, “Seven? At once?”

Women will probably try to lure them away or make me feel ashamed because I’m with seven men, all brothers.

But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I choose them and they choose me. And together, we’ll raise a child that will have an amazing life.

As Patty told me time and time again, life has good parts and tough parts in equal spades, and I’m ready to face all of those with the seven men that I love.

Suddenly, I can’t wait for the billionaires to get home … because I have something special planned.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sam

I get a text from Macy asking me to get my brothers home early for a family meeting. She hasn’t spoken to us in two whole days and just seeing her name on my phone makes my heart jump. I don’t know what the little girl’s been up to, but we’ve been biting our nails, wondering when she’s gonna snap out of it. Imagine that. Seven billionaires asking “how high?” when Macy orders us to jump.

Because she’s something else entirely. Sure, there’s the curvy bod, with the generous breasts and constantly wet pussy. But also, it’s her shy smile and the way she’s looks at us from under her lashes while talking. It’s her sexy cooking videos and the delicious food on the table each night. She’s a prize and we all know it.

Because we miss her desperately. These two days have been fucking painful. The brunette was made for us, little Macy Jones from next door. Fuck her stupid family and their moral high-ground. Fuck them for making her feel bad about herself, for calling her a whore. Women have the right to choose what to do with their bodies and that curvy body was made for us. She’s wet and ready all the time and that old bat of a mother of hers probably needs a fire hose to keep that dry snatch lubed.

So yeah, stuff it. We’ll take better care of Macy than any dumbass banker or lawyer or whatever asshole they envisioned her with. They can go fuck themselves.

My brothers and I aren’t particularly gushy or emotional. But we’re not exactly subtle, either. We want what we want and we take it when we want it. But little Macy, she’s under all of our skins. She’s in our heads, taking over our hearts.

In fact, we love her so much that we’re willing to let her figure out what she wants for herself. Sure, we want her in our lives. We want her in our beds. We want her to be the mother of our child. But what is she looking for? Only Macy can say for sure.

And damn Heather for causing these problems. Do I feel bad for her? Of course, but not bad enough that I regret finding Macy. It’s just how the chips lie. I’m a believer that if something’s meant to happen, we can make it happen. And that shit just didn’t take fire with the other woman. It’s not Heather’s fault but, shit, were we just supposed to give up on what we wanted?

Finally, we’re all in the apartment. As usual, Macy has prepared dinner. She’s dressed sweetly, in a pink dress with a v-neck that spills those creamy tits out for full view. I’m pretty sure there are seven hard-ons under the table, straining and achy.

“So,” she says, biting that luscious lower lip of hers, “I’ve called you all here to tell you that I’ve done a lot of soul-searching these past two days.”

“Hold on,” I say, putting up a hand. “First, let me tell you that we support whatever decision you want. We’re not great at sharing feelings and shit, but we need you to know that we love you, Macy. We love you enough to let you go, if that’s what you want.”

“We don’t want you to go,” Matt adds, voice rough. “We want you with us, but your happiness is important too. More important than anything else,” he finishes on a growl.

The chorus of agreement brings tears to the female’s eyes. She looks into her lap and collects her emotions before speaking again.

“I love all of you,” she says quietly. “So much. And I was blind to anything outside of this world we’ve built, so when I found Heather, it was a real dose of reality that I wasn’t ready for. But I realize now that you did what you thought best by letting her go.”

“We got her a counselor,” Trent says. “And some really good doctors. She’ll recover and find a way to move on.”

Macy’s shock is evident on her beautiful face, eyes wide, mouth open. But then the girl nods.

“Thank you,” she says, taking a deep breath. “That makes this so much easier to say. Because ….”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that ensues.

“I’m with you,” she says, smiling. “I choose you. All of you.”

And the conquering roar of seven alphas is pretty damn loud. It starts as a hum, slowly growing to a cacophony, shaking the room with our triumph and lust.

Macy clasps her hands over her ears, nodding while smiling. But that’s not enough. In a flash, we’re out of our seats, picking up the curvy female, spinning her around, showering that delectable form with kisses.

“You won’t regret it,” comes my raspy promise. “Ever.”