Luke (Bossy Brothers #7) by J.A. Huss




Bossy Brothers: Luke is the final book in the Bossy Brothers series and features a sweet and sexy MMF ménage with two hot, committed men and a pink-haired gossip reporter desperate for a scoop. But when she stumbles into more secrets than she can handle, her boys need to call on all the Boston and Dumas brothers to keep her safe.





CHAPTER ONE - LUKE





The music in the club is thumping and heavy with bass. Neon lights flash across happy faces, bodies barely covered, sweaty and writhing in the heat of a Saturday night in Miami.

I’m slumped up against a wall, sipping some very nice whiskey and watching Zach Boston grind his hips against two mostly naked women. He’s captured between them and both girls are smiling with the thought of what this might lead to.

Zach Boston might not be the most attractive guy in this club, but he’s definitely in the top three. His hair looks more blond than brown under the flashing lights, his normally fair skin is tanned from spending the better part of a year here in Florida with me, and his tight white t-shirt shows off all the muscles in his upper body. Don’t even get me started on the faded, ripped jeans. I fucking love his ass in those jeans.

“You should just talk to him.”

I turn my head to the left and notice that a girl has joined me along the wall. She’s dressed head to toe in neon pink.

Well. I use the term ‘head to toe’ generously. Her firm, round breasts nicely fill out a cropped, tie-front halter that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Her shorts are definitely short. In fact, let’s just call her outfit a bikini. She’s small. A little bit tiny, actually. But her tits and hips are nice and round. She has long, pink hair with bangs that frame an amazing set of blue-violet eyes. She reminds me of an anime character I was obsessed with when I was fourteen, so internally I tag her Princess Euphemia.

Everyone I meet gets a tag instead of a name. I hate remembering names. Even Zach had a tag for a week before I decided he was gonna be a permanent fixture in my life.

I called him Slick because he’s quick like that. Got an answer for anything. Even if you’re not asking questions, Zach Boston has the answer.

“What?” I yell back at Euphemia over the music.

She points at the undulating mass of bodies in the center of the club. “You’re looking at that guy.” She pauses here to see if I have anything to add. But I don’t, so she continues. “The hot one. With the two girls. Two.” She holds up two fingers in a peace sign. “One for you. One for him.”

I chuckle and shake my head.

“What? Are you gonna stand here and deny that wasn’t what you were thinking?”

I side-eye her, but just sip my whiskey instead of answering.

She hooks her arm in mine, like we are the best of friends, then blinks her large eyes up at me. “You’re not gonna get any action standing on the edge of things. You have to put yourself out there.”

“Like you are?”

She hides a grin. “I’m here, aren’t I? Talking to you.”

“Ah.” I nod knowingly. “So it’s really you picturing yourself between him and I, then. Isn’t it?”

She doesn’t even bother to blush. Just says, “Maybe.”

I look back over to Zach, wondering if he’ll choose between the two girls or bring them both over here. We don’t often invite two girls home with us. That feels a little too swappish, and that’s not what we’re looking for.

We like the tag team. One girl between us at a time.

Euphemia is leaning up on her tiptoes now, trying to reach my ear. If I weren’t slouching against this wall, she’d have no hope of doing that. But as it is, she manages. “He’s hot. But younger than you.”

I scoff. It’s true that Zach Boston is the real baby of that family. He’s only twenty-three. But I’m not that much older. I might be turning thirty this December, but I’m not there yet.

“Maybe even… a little out of your league,” Euphemia continues.

“Trust me. He’s not out of my league.”

I feel her shrug. “He so is. I know him.”

“You do not.”

“So do. I was with him last weekend. He fucked me into this Sunday.”

I sneer down at her.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“What’s his name?”

“Like I’d tell you. Get your own moves, buddy.”

Ha. “You’re the one who told me to go put myself out there. Now you’re gonna get all jealous?”

She smirks, but doesn’t look at me. Just pretends to be interested in everything happening around us.

“Whatever.” I take my attention back to the packed dance floor and try to shrug off her grip.

“Zach,” she says, her hands tightening around my biceps as she once again leans up to get closer to me. “His name is Zach.”

“How do you know that?”

“I told you. I was with him last weekend. He asked me to meet him here tonight. But I got held up, so I was late. I guess he started without me. But it’s OK. I’m not the jealous type.”

I realize I’m looking at her again, but catch myself and turn my head to the right to think this through.

Was he with this girl last weekend?

Dumas Water Adventures—my part of the family business—goes off during the summer. We are busy every day, all day long. But I was getting a little bored with renting out hydroboards and doing jet ski tours, so this year I added a floating beachside bar and bought a new yacht to run overnight dive trips. I also, for the first time ever, hired a shitload of people to help me out so I could concentrate on the new yacht. Last weekend was my first official overnight client. Zach was gonna come along, but he partied pretty hard the night before and was nursing a wicked hangover, so I told him to stay home.