Beast Brothers
A Stepbrother Sports Romance
Stephanie Brother
Contents
1. The Kind of Sexy that Starts a Slow Burn
2. The Filling in a Twin Sandwich
3. Consider it a Standing Offer
4. He Got His and Now I’m Getting Mine
5. She Looks Nothing Like My Mother
6. You Never Know When You’re Going to Go Horizontal
7. We’ll Be Family
8. Not a Vibrator in the World
9. Begging for It
10. Forbidden Fruit
11. We’re Gonna Need a New Nickname for You
12. What I’ve Been Missing
13. You Haven’t Ruined Anything
14. Mr. Micro Dick
15. We’re Not Done With You
16. I Finally Do
17. In the Stable, Meeting Some Horses
18. Ecstatic
19. Save All the Bad For Us
20. Hey Megasexy
21. Life’s Too Short to Drive Slow
22. Anytime You’re Ready
23. Unfinished Business
24. Sexy Kitty
25. So Much Man. All For Me.
26. Oh Wow
27. Lost in Sensation
28. Over the Edge
29. No Words Needed
30. I’ll Call You
31. Electric Blue
32. Behaving Like a Stepsister Should
33. Right to the Bone
34. Get Me Out of Here
35. Tell Us You Don’t Care
36. Melting
37. Both of You
Epilogue
Afterword
Perfect: A Stepbrother Romance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
About Stephanie Brother
Also by Stephanie Brother
Beast Brothers
© 2016 Stephanie Brother
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over.
Kindle Edition
Book cover designed by Lunatic Design
Created with Vellum
The Kind of Sexy that Starts a Slow Burn
Megan
The best thing Jason ever did was cheat on me.
Not that I’m grateful to my skunk of an ex-fiancé at the moment. I’m crawling down the freeway in bumper-to-bumper traffic, heading into my hometown. There’s a big game this weekend and the Leopards are the team to beat in the NFL, so everybody and his brother has come to see them take on the Stallions.
Reaching my exit at last, I take the off-ramp to Central Avenue. It’s as crowded as the freeway, crammed with cars trying to get home or to a hotel before the dark clouds overhead unleash their fury. I inch along, wishing the traffic would vanish so I could gun the puny engine on my compact car and vent some of my emotions.
Every time the scene from this morning intrudes on my mind, anger and pain flare up anew. I’m sick of driving, sick of grieving, of wasting my tears on a man who doesn’t deserve them. If I hadn’t come home early and found Jason balls-deep in another woman, I’d still be planning our wedding.
I need a drink and a hot bath and some mindless entertainment.
I need to be numb.
My cell phone rings. I glance down and see that it’s Jason. It’s all I can do not to pick up the phone and hurl it straight through the windshield.
It’s only an instant that my eyes are off the road, but when I look up there’s a truck stopped right in front of me. With no time to brake, I wrench the steering wheel, jerking my car sideways into the next lane — just as a bright blue sports car whips into the same spot from the other side.
Its front bumper hits the passenger side of my car with a sickening crunch, bouncing my head off the window next to me, then snapping me back the other way. The impact spins my car around. I end up facing the wrong way, the oncoming traffic dividing frantically around me like water going past the prow of a ship.
I’m too stunned to move; for long moments, I just sit there staring. I’m finally numb, but not the way I wanted.
Maybe I messed up in another life, and today is some kind of karmic revenge. My lower lip trembles, and I bite down on it. Self-pity sucks, and no matter what, I will not start crying again.
A tap on my side window makes me jump. I turn my head to see a man peering in at me. Dark hair, dark eyes, shoulders as broad as a house. The kind of sexy that starts a slow burn between my legs, even in my current state. Why does he seem so familiar?
When I don’t respond, he opens my door. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m sorry,” I say, straightening in my seat. “Was that your car?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about that.” I hear a snort behind him, but I can’t see who it is because the huge man in front of me is blocking my view.
Undoing my seat belt, I turn to get out of the car. The man takes my hand to help me up. Electric heat surges up my arm and through my body, flooding me with sensation. A detached corner of my mind notices my entirely inappropriate response, and wonders if it’s because I’m in shock.
He backs away to give me room. Now I can see the other man, standing by the flashy blue car with his arms folded. Same hair, same eyes, same massive build. Same sinfully-high sex appeal oozing from every gorgeous pore.
At first I wonder if I’m seeing double; then it hits me. No wonder they seem familiar! Brock and Cody Easton are twins, first-year draft picks, and star players for the Leopards. In the NFL world, they’re better known as the Beast Brothers.
As I stand up, the man by the car — is he Cody or Brock? — looks me over. There’s something other than concern in his gaze and he’s not even trying to be subtle about it. His eyes travel down my body and up again, taking in my curves, and his expression changes from annoyance to speculation.
My skin feels too tight all of a sudden, as if my nerve endings were trying to push through, leap across the space between us, and wrap themselves around him. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s only been a few hours since I packed my car and left my asshole of an ex, I was just in a car accident, and here I am salivating over two men I haven’t even properly met.
Granted, they are the hottest men I’ve ever laid eyes on. But still.
“Don’t worry about the car,” the one nearest me says again. “I’m Cody, by the way.” He’d let go of me when I stood up, and now he’s holding out his hand again to shake.
It’s an enormous hand — it engulfs mine, and I am not a petite woman. But I only have an instant to process that, because at the contact with his rough, warm skin, heat flows through me once more. This time, my nipples go hard.
I tell myself it’s the stress. That’s why I’m getting more turned on than I ever did from Jason’s touch, right here in the mi
ddle of the street, with honking cars all around us. I want to believe it, but I know it’s not true.
The other thing I know is that I need to stop feeling this way. Now. I pull my hand free and look at his brother. “So you must be Brock. My dad’s told me about you both.”
A slow smile quirks one side of his mouth. He’s devastatingly sexy, just like his twin — and he knows it. “Your dad’s a fan?”
“You could say that,” I tell him. “He’s your coach.”
The Filling in a Twin Sandwich
Megan
The guys exchange a quick glance, eyebrows raised. Traffic is still going by us, but very slowly because people keep stopping to take photos of the twins through their car windows, even though night has fallen.
“You’re Coach Turner’s daughter?” Brock says. NFL teams have a lot of different coaches, so it’s a valid question. But there’s only one head coach, and that’s my dad.
“Yeah, I’m Megan. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’d really prefer we hadn’t met this way.”
Cody grins at that, but Brock’s frowning, his mind on something else. “Don’t you live in Omaha?”
“I did,” I say. And I am so not having that conversation with either of these guys. “We should call the police and our insurance and all that.”
Their sports car has a crumpled fender but is mostly intact. When I go around to the passenger side of my car, though, I see that it took the brunt of things. “Shit.”
“Yeah, it’s totaled,” Cody says from behind me. He sounds far too cheerful about it, and I suppress a twinge of irritation. Even as a rookie, he’s earning a good salary, so buying a new car is no big deal to him.
But I have no job at the moment, and I’m not asking my father for money. He’s already letting me stay at his place until I can sort things out. Letting him pay for stuff on top of that is way more than I’m comfortable with. Maybe I can find some kind of telecommuting work until I can get another car.
I go back around to the driver’s side, taking out my phone and my insurance card. Brock’s already on his phone. “Cops are on the way to take an accident report,” he says when he hangs up, “and I’ve got tow trucks and a cab coming too.”
“Tow trucks, plural?” I say.
He shrugs. “They both need it.”
“Well, thank you.” But he only called one cab. Does that mean …
“Are you heading to your dad’s house?” he says, as if hearing my unspoken question. At my nod, he continues, “We’ll drop you off. It’s on the way to our place anyway.”
“Thanks,” I say again. “That’s really very kind.”
“No big deal.” He and Cody exchange another swift glance, and this time I sense the undercurrent flowing between them. Whatever they’re thinking, it sends a ripple of awareness down my spine.
The brothers are standing together now, and I can’t help but admire the view. Chiseled jaws, skin in matching shades of sun-tanned bronze, strong noses, sensual mouths. They were impressive when I watched them play on TV, but in person their charisma is overwhelming.
My gaze wanders down to the arms like tree trunks, then the tight, narrow waists. They’re both wearing gym shorts and t-shirts, the fabric straining against their biceps and thighs. I bet their abs are amazing too. They could be world-class models instead of football players.
Two sets of big, dark brown eyes pin me in place, and suddenly I can’t breathe. The moment lengthens until I force myself to look away. My heart is beating way too fast.
Maybe getting in a taxi with the twins is not such a good idea. But the wind is rising, the clouds darker and more threatening. We need to get indoors before the skies open up.
By the time the police and the tow trucks have come and gone, the taxi has arrived, and the air has a bite that makes me shiver. I have my suitcase and purse, but have to cross my fingers that the rest of the stuff in my car will be safe at the repair shop until I can pick it up. Cody puts the suitcase in the cab’s trunk, then opens the back door and slides in. Brock gestures for me to go next.
I don’t want to make a big deal out of riding up front with the driver after the guys have been so nice to me, so I get in and scoot over to make room. The brothers dwarf me, and when Brock slides in, I’m squeezed between them like I’m the filling in a twin sandwich.
The driver pulls into the crush of traffic. Pressed between the brothers, I’m instantly warm. My whole body starts to tingle, and it’s not just from the heat coming off them. I know this because the sensations are strongest right between my legs.
I’ve never reacted to a man like this before, let alone two of them at once. Maybe all my emotions about Jason are being diverted into lust. Which means it’s a really bad idea for me to let this continue.
If they realize how turned on I am, they’ll think I’m a freak or a groupie. I don’t want to give them any ideas, since I’ll doubtless be around them again — I won’t miss a game. In my best nice/polite/helpful voice, I say, “I should sit in front.”
“Nah,” Brock drawls, and the next thing I know he picks me up as if I weigh nothing at all and settles me sideways on his lap, my ass nestled in his crotch. I suck in a breath as electricity jolts through my body.
Consider it a Standing Offer
Megan
“Excuse me,” I say, still struggling for politeness. “I can’t sit in your lap.” I try to ignore the sensations spiraling from my core out through my body and back again.
“You are sitting in my lap,” he points out, like it’s no big deal. One of his hands, so big and strong and warm, is curled around my waist, burning through my clothing. The other goes to my head, pressing gently down to tuck me against his neck, then stays tangled in my hair.
He smells like sunshine and clean male sweat. It’s intoxicating. My voice comes out all soft and breathy when I say, “I mean it’s not appropriate. Please let me go.”
“Relax, sugar,” he says in that same lazy tone. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”
The we is not exactly comforting.
There’s a drop of rain on the windshield, and then another, and then the rain comes down so hard I know the driver can’t see more than a few inches ahead of him. At this rate, it’ll take us another hour to reach my dad’s place, even though it’s less than five miles away.
I try to sit very, very still, hyper-aware of my body touching Brock’s, especially where my ass is pressing up against his groin. I do my best, but it’s hard — I can’t help shifting just a little. And then — omg — he’s hard.
My eyes go wide. Peering through the fall of my hair, I see Cody grinning as if he knows exactly what I’m feeling right now.
I haven’t had a lot of experience besides Jason, but I thought my ex was big. Uh-uh. Nope. Compared to Brock, Jason is so small I should have needed a flashlight to find his dick.
The twins’ nickname suddenly takes on new meaning. I thought they were called the Beast Brothers because they’re huge men (which, I can now testify, they absolutely are). That, and because of how they play football. But something — like the very large something currently poking me in the ass — makes me suspect it has more to do with the games they play when they’re off the gridiron.
I try to ignore Brock’s raging hard-on, but my traitorous body has no intention of obeying. My skin gets hot; my nipples go hard again. Before long, my panties are soaked.
Brock’s hand on my waist slides up until his thumb brushes the underside of my breast. I squirm a little — I can’t help it — and as if he were waiting for my signal, his thumb strokes up and over my nipple. I suck in a breath, and he does it again.
Sensation overwhelms me, sweeping away my defenses. I have the sudden insane wish that I weren’t just sitting in Brock’s lap, riding along with him. I want to be riding him. I want that huge, hard cock inside me.
My pussy muscles clench tight, and he feels it, damn him. His grip tightens just a fraction, and then his voice sounds next to my ear, a barit
one rumble. “You want to come to our place instead? We can take you to your dad’s later.”
Molten heat spreads in my core. I have never been so tempted in my life. The time my best friend Tara and I almost snuck into the Leopards’ locker room in junior high doesn’t even come close.
I try to speak. “That’s — that’s —”
“An excellent idea,” Cody finishes.
I’m no prude, but I haven’t exactly collected any merit badges for Adventures in Sexytimes. I’ve always been fine with plain vanilla sex. Part of me wonders if that’s why Jason cheated on me, because I wasn’t exciting enough.
Not that it excuses anything, because hello, communication? Who knows what I might have tried if he’d asked. But he never did. Anyway, the point is that I should be freaking out at what the twins are clearly implying: they both want me, and they’re happy to share.
Maybe it’s because this whole day has been so surreal, so far outside my usual experience, that the idea of a threesome with the Beast Brothers does not have me leaping from the taxi and sprinting for my dad’s place on foot. Or maybe the twins generate some sort of magnetic force field that’s scrambled my brain. They are, after all, by far the hottest guys I’ve ever been near, and I’ve been around a lot of athletes in my life.
Whatever the reason, wanting them both — and both of them wanting me — feels totally normal. In fact, right at this moment, it sounds perfect. As Cody says, an excellent idea.
I could lose myself in a single night’s madness, with no thought for tomorrow. The Beast Brothers would get Jason out of my system once and for all. I’ve never wanted anything more.
But my dad’s expecting me. I’m already much later in arriving than I should have been, and he’ll probably be calling any minute to see where I am. The last thing I want to do is explain to him that I took a detour to fuck his hotshot rookies — both of them.
Beast Brothers Page 1