ROMANCE: Mated to the Bear (Stepbrother Paranormal Shifter) (Threesome Taboo Romance)

by Brook, Madelin

  “Look, Tiff, it’s not up for negotiation. We can’t do this…ever!” He waved his hand at her.

  “How do you know that the masked woman is who you really want?”

  Alan wasn’t entirely sure if she was right for him. But, the blond woman was someone who was right for him last night. Naturally, she’d be right for him right now.

  And, besides, he thought, she’s not my little stepsister.

  “I see,” Tiffany popped up to her feet and grabbed her bikini top lying on the bed. “I’ll leave you alone. Good night, Alan.”

  He wanted badly to stop her and explain himself further but knew that it would only make things worse. The pitter patter of bare feet on the hardwood floor echoed throughout the house as she made her way back to her room. Then, a loud slam of the door reverberated throughout the walls.

  The billionaire was alone again and he felt it now more than ever. Though he still felt very drunk, Alan was sober enough to clean up his mess, strip down to nothing and climb into bed to sleep off this incident.

  Chapter 6

  Despite the incident on the first night of Tiffany’s stay, the next day went smoother than Alan had expected. Before his stepsister had a chance to get up and follow him to work, Alan headed out the door and to his office. Within a few hours, he’d received a text from Tiffany. She stated her regret in making him feel uncomfortable and felt somewhat responsible for taking advantage of him while he was intoxicated.

  Alan was relieved to receive this message from her and could see that fences were already being mended. Without so much as uttering a word about the close encounter with one another, the two stepsiblings went about their days as normal. But, the one thing that the experience served was to amplify any strong feelings Alan had for the mysterious woman in the mask.

  As the days moved on, Alan’s mind became more acutely aware of how much he needed that one person in his life to bring the balance that he desperately craved. All the hard work he had done over the past few years should be for something. Truth be told, Tiffany was a welcomed change yet he didn’t feel he could establish that intimate connection with her that he desired in a love interest. His family meant too much to him to ruin it over mere lustful attraction.

  That’s all a relationship with his stepsister would be. He cringed at the thought and blocked it out by shifting his thoughts back to the night of masquerade ball. The blond woman had his heart and he couldn’t stand thinking that she may have been on a different page than him. After all, why would she have insisted on keeping the porcelain mask on her face? And, why was it so important for her to run from him when he pressed her to remove it? Alan didn’t live with regrets, but this was one burden that ate away at him.

  This regret further managed to press its way into the relationship with his stepsister. So, what more would his obsession bring him? Alan didn’t want to bother Maxwell too much because he knew that his business partner would trivialize and poke fun at his newfound obsession. But, after a few weeks agonizing over this woman, Alan finally gave in. He’d just arrived home and had changed out of his clothes.

  Alan quick dialed his friend. “Max?”

  “Hey, baby boy! What’s going on?” Maxwell seemed a bit more upbeat than usual.

  Over the past three weeks since the masquerade ball, Alan took every step necessary to keep his stepsister away from Maxwell. Alan appreciated his friend and business partner, but the love for his stepsister was more important. Given the opportunity, Alan felt that Maxwell would take advantage of Tiffany and he didn’t want to see her abused like he normally did with women.

  “Hey, man, I don’t mean to seem like I’m bugging you about this, but did you ever find out anything about the woman from the masquerade ball?” Alan asked.

  A long pause came on the other end of the phone and Maxwell sighed aloud.

  “You know, I’m not sure. But, I just booted her friend out. She was a slut, bro!” Maxwell cackled at this statement yet Alan waited for his friend to finish. “So, this bitch has been hanging out for the last three weeks at my place, living high on the hog compared to her white trash upbringing. And, I was letting her sleep in my bed with me. But, bro, you know me, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, so we’re chilling yesterday afternoon and this fucking bitch starts to go down on me. And, I’m definitely good with it. But, then she looks over to my dog, Francesca. And she said, ‘Get off the bed, mutt.’ So, I think who the fuck does she think she is?!”

  “Francesca went running off and I’m thinking this ungrateful bitch kicked my dog off the bed. My dog is more entitled to sleep on that bed than her. Stupid skank!” Maxwell laughed.

  Alan paced his office, waiting for the chance to speak. He knew where this story was headed, yet he had to wait it out if he wanted answers from Maxwell.

  “So, I told the bitch, ‘Lick my asshole, baby.’ And, she starts going to town on my asshole and I’m ready to come, but rather than blow my load I held it.” He laughed some more and Alan feigned a chuckle. “I blast a hot fart right into her mouth. And, it was foul! I mean terrible. So horrible that it would clear a room. Her face turns green and she starts heaving like she’s going to throw up. And, I was like, ‘Go outside, fuck!’ I opened my patio doors in my room and pushed her vomit-ass out. Now, mind you, it’s still daylight out and her titties are hanging out ‘cause she has no clothes!”

  Maxwell paused, and Alan could hear his friend finding this the funniest story ever. Though Alan was appalled, he held his ground and waited for the finish of this sick anecdote. All he wanted right now was to finally put some closure on the night of the masquerade ball and find out, once and for all, who the mystery woman was.

  As Maxwell started to continue his story, Alan heard his front door slam and Tiffany go whizzing by his office. She was sobbing and mumbling to herself as she stormed to her room. He had to put things on hold till he could figure out what was wrong with his stepsister.

  “Hey, Max? Max?” Alan shouted over Maxwell as he continued his story. “Maxwell?!”

  “What’s up, man?”

  “Hey, can I call you back? I have an emergency right now.”

  Maxwell groaned into the receiver, “Ugh, yeah, just hurry up, this shit gets better.”

  Alan swiftly shut off his cell phone and raced to Tiffany’s room to find her collapsed on her bed crying heavily into her pillows. He knocked on her open door and stepped in without waiting for a welcome. Concerned over her sudden change in demeanor and something he’d never seen in his stepsister, Alan sat on the edge of her bed to find out what ailed her.

  “Tiff, what’s the matter?” Alan placed a hand on her shoulder.

  He could feel her shuttering with each sob and shake with every breath. Tiffany was out of sorts, so what she was shaken up over was beyond Alan. She spoke into her pillow, but Alan couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  “Tiffany, you’re going to have to turn over,” he politely commanded.

  Tiffany lifted her head from the pillow. And sputtered out a few indecipherable words. Her stepbrother grabbed her hand and brushed the tears from her cheeks. His touch was enough to slow her crying and she breathed in deeply.

  “Now, slow down, tell me what’s wrong,” Alan said.

  “Fucking asshole! I don’t know what his problem is. What the fuck is wrong with him?!” Tiffany gritted her teeth and tears began flowing down her cheeks.

  “Who?” Alan asked.

  “Ugh, he is such an asshole and he thinks he can do just anything because he’s rich. Fuck him, fuck his mansion and fuck his sick fucking pig ways!” Alan was confused with each of her words.

  “Tiff, you have to tell me who it is if you want me to help,” Alan insisted.

  Tiffany broke down and then embraced her stepbrother. She laid her head against his chest and cried openly without a word. Alan pulled Tiffany closer to him and in the process he inadvertently knocked her small purse to the hardwood floor.

  Cont
ents spilled out and scattered from her handbag. Lipstick, two tampons, a mini bag of tissues and her cell phone were spread out at Alan’s feet next to the bed. He noticed the phone buzz and light up with a text message alert. Disregarding the items, Alan continued to hold Tiffany in his arms as he felt her loosen grip and slow her weeping. Minutes went by before he softly returned her to lying back on her pillow.

  Tiffany stared at the ceiling above her. She was distant and removed. Her look appeared glossed over and catatonic. The young stepsister broke the silence with a question.

  “Alan?”

  “Yeah?” he kneeled to the floor and started to pick up the items and put them back into her purse.

  “You know that I really appreciate you letting me stay here, right?”

  He paused, lifted his lower lip and shook his head. “Of course, why?”

  She continued to stare at the ceiling as Alan grasped the last of her spilled items, the cell phone. He looked to Tiffany for any additional information that may clue him in on why she was so bothered. Alan began to briefly think that she may have been mad at him. But, it quickly slipped from his mind when he realized that she had hugged him so tightly.

  “I’m pregnant…” she placed her hand on Alan’s forearm. Still knelt to one knee, Alan’s stomach turned.

  Did I take it further than I remember? Had I screwed my stepsister and not remember it from that night? But, then she does go out on her own every now and then. What could this mean? Alan’s thoughts were awash with worry, guilt and curiosity.

  Alan slowly gulped and searched for the right words to express his feelings. But, before he could carefully formulate a sentence, Tiffany’s phone buzzed. Then it buzzed again and again. This had repeated quite a few times before Alan started to hand the phone to Tiffany.

  “Thank you,” she grasped the phone.

  But, before Tiffany lifted the phone to check her text messages, Alan could see the name of the sender. Instantly, his heart raced. A burst of shock and denial washed over Alan. Quickly, he snatched the phone from her hand. Under normal circumstances, Alan wouldn’t care who was sending messages to his stepsister, but this one name made him stand up straight, and take notice. Rage filled his belly and a nagging question needed to be answered.

  “What’re you doing?!” Tiffany sat up, looking at her stepbrother perplexed.

  Tiffany meant the world to Alan because his mother and stepfather entrusted her well-being to his care. Anything that happened to her, Alan felt was a direct reflection of who he was and how much he cherished the family bond. Though years and miles separated the family, Alan still felt strongly enough about his family that he’d do anything to protect them. So, it was this one name that he protected her from since day one of arriving at his house. Three weeks of no issue, outside of the one-time incident, and one person interrupted the flow.

  The text was from “Maxwell.” Without reading a single word, Alan assumed that if she knew Maxwell Hart, then this only meant bad things. Max never had an ounce of respect for women and if his little stepsibling came in crying and claiming pregnancy, then there had to be only one circumstance Tiffany knew Maxwell Hart.

  The night of the masquerade ball came rushing back to him and he started piecing it together. The two college women that were with Maxwell the evening of the event flashed back into his mind’s eye. The blond masked woman was with him and the brunette masked woman, Katrina, was with Maxwell.

  Max never mentioned much about Katrina outside of his latest call. It was news to him that she was still hanging on. Unless, of course, Katrina was visiting him on the occasions that she was free and away from Alan.

  Katrina is Tiffany! Alan’s mind filled with rage beyond what he could handle. Gone were the thoughts of the blond masked woman and replaced with the need for answers.

  “That motherfucker!” he angrily muttered.

  “Wait, Alan! It’s not what you think!” Alan glanced down at Tiffany, leaned down and kissed her forehead.

  “I’m going to take care of this,” Alan stormed out the door.

  “Stop! No!” Tiffany pleaded with him.

  Alan raced off in his car. His destination was the Hart Family Mansion.

  Chapter 7

  Alan sped down the road and arrived at the Hart Family Mansion in half the time it usually took. His eyes throbbed and his gut turned. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but Alan was positive that Maxwell Hart would know where he stood when this was through. The first thing that needed answering was how Max knew his stepsister and if he was going to take care of his offspring.

  This son of a bitch is going to know where I stand.

  Anger swelled in Alan beyond anything he ever experienced before. After three weeks of no answers, not only had he discovered that Katrina was Tiffany, but he’d finally uncover the identity of the blond woman.

  “Shit!” he whispered to himself. It occurred to Alan that he easily could’ve found out from Tiffany who the masked blond woman was.

  He screeched his car to a halt short of the closed gate at the Hart Family Mansion entrance. Alan repeatedly pressed the buzzer and the gate slowly opened. Hardly ajar, Alan laid into his gas pedal and scraped the sides of his prized Audi on the metal gate. At this point, his hair could’ve been on fire and he wouldn’t have even noticed.

  A security guard came down to greet Alan this time.

  “Hey, boss, you here to see Mr. Hart?”

  “What the fuck do you think?” Alan recognized the asshole from the night of the masquerade ball. He was one of the goons that carried out the beaten butler. The guard raised his eyebrow.

  Alan sprinted up the steps and let himself in. Unlike the last time he visited Maxwell, no one raced after him. The young billionaire bolted through the hallways and into the west wing. He grabbed the knob and was fully prepared to excuse whatever female was attached to Maxwell’s cock this time.

  He tossed the door open and it crashed into the wall behind it. Maxwell was seated at his desk, relaxed in his swivel chair and conducting a phone call. He was still fully suited up, but his tie lay undone on his collar. The eccentric billionaire must have been just finishing up for the day when Alan burst into the office.

  Startled, Maxwell looked up to see his friend, red-faced and drenched in sweat. He held his finger up and continued the conversation. Max started to turn the chair away from his office door so that his back was to Alan.

  “Hey! We have to talk!” Alan demanded.

  Maxwell held his hand up, signaling to Alan that he needed a moment. Alan’s blood boiled and he was tired of having to wait for Maxwell Hart. All the times he humored his friend and gave him the benefit of no interruption, Alan was ready to redeem his turn. He wanted to speak, be heard and not interrupted by this ego-maniacal, self-centered piece of shit.

  The infuriated stepbrother stormed across the room, and around the office chair to face Max. There was no use, Maxwell was, for a change, conducting business and showed no signs of pausing for his friend. But, today wasn’t a lucky day for Maxwell Hart. It all finally came to a head and Alan grabbed the phone from Max’s hand. Alan raised his hand above his head and spiked the cell phone into the ground. Plastic and glass shattered all over the floor and the business call was over.

  Maxwell burst to his feet and shoved Alan back.

  “What the fuck was that for?!” Maxwell yelled.

  “I’m sick and tired of waiting for you. For the last five fucking years, you have made me wait on you, and tolerate your bullshit. Time after time after time after fucking time.” Alan closed in on Maxwell and came nose to nose with him.

  “Dude, you need to back the fuck up and start explaining yourself. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Max shoved his friend harder and Alan spilled into a bookshelf. The shelf edge dug into his low back and a bolt of electricity shot from his ribs. Through gritted teeth, Alan stood back up and raised his chin. “Now, don’t you come bowing your chest at me, Alan. I’ll fuck your world up!”

/>   Alan dove for Maxwell’s legs, grabbed him around his waist and then lifted the man with all his energy. Both men tumbled over the swivel chair. Struggling with one another, Alan finally jockeyed for a higher position and grabbed both ends of Max’s loosened tie. Quickly, Alan snatched opposite ends in his hands and pulled upward.

  Maxwell’s eyes protruded and his face flushed red. He thrashed about on the floor until his hands came upon a broken shard of his cell phone. Without hesitation, Max grabbed the broken shard and violently thrust the object into Alan’s forehead. Alan released his grip long enough for Maxwell to reach up to his desk and press a button.

  Still lying on his back, Max reared his legs and then kicked both his heels into Alan’s back. All wind escaped from Alan’s lungs and he lay struggling to breathe on the floor. Maxwell pulled himself up to his feet, snatched his suit jacket off and pulled the loose tie from his neck. Stepping over Alan as he lay prone, gasping for air, Maxwell looped the tie around his friend’s neck, and then yanked back.

  There was no chance for air to come this time. The security guard came rushing into the office within seconds. Maxwell stood up and loosened his grip. He walked away and allowed room for the security guard to grab Alan.

  “Pick that motherfucker up and get him the fuck out of my house,” Maxwell ordered. The 300-pound security guard snatched Alan up by his belt line and threw him over his shoulder.

  Maxwell led the way to the front door with his security guard carrying Alan in tow. Alan moaned and started to take in deep breaths. He tried to wriggle loose from the man, but the guard had a good grip on him.

  “Hold on, man. You gotta go, the boss says so!” the security guard stated.

  “Wait, is he breathing now?” Maxwell paused at the marble fountain in the entryway of the mansion.

  “Yeah, boss.”

  “Good set him down, but hold his arms,” Maxwell ordered his guard.

  Blood poured from Alan’s forehead and spilled over his face. Maxwell reached to his friend and pulled the phone fragment loose from Alan’s forehead. The eccentric billionaire held a finger up, telling his guard to stay as he wandered off.