His Baby to Keep: A Forbidden Romance

by Katie Ford

  “No worries, Mike,” I growled into the phone. “I know about it already.”

  “So you know your hard drive was mirrored, right?” he said. “These clearly weren’t low-grade thieves. It takes significant technical firepower to accomplish.”

  Immediately, I knew this wasn’t the work of my sister. Sure, she’d peeped into the computer and even managed to figure out the password, but she wouldn’t know what mirroring a hard drive was. Shit.

  “What are you saying?” I asked carefully.

  “Mr. Lyon, mirroring a hard drive means that the thief made a copy of everything you had saved on your computer. I just hope you have back-ups of the files stashed in different locations in different formats,” he said. “Because mirroring sometimes corrupts the original files, rendering them unusable.”

  Oh shit. I understood what security was saying, but I was concerned for a different reason. I wasn’t worried about corrupted files, or insufficient back-ups. I was worried because that hard drive had videos of girls on it, dancing and stripping, getting naked before fucking my brother and me.

  And there were a lot of clips too. Probably at least a thousand total, and Tyler and I probably fucked at least a few hundred of those women in some way, shape or form. Okay, maybe not full on vaginal sex in all instances, but maybe some oral or fun with a dildo at least.

  Fuck! We were red-blooded males, and it seemed that our actions were catching up to us.

  “How did the thieves break in?” I asked. “How did they get into the secure facility?”

  “Sir, we don’t know yet,” the consultant replied. “We have footage of a girl in a baseball cap entering your office, but she exits without ever penetrating the inner sanctum.”

  And that was another reason why I knew it wasn’t our sister. Krissy had been floored by the stripper pole and the two computers out in the open. But those are just decoys, distractions to a thief. The real dirt is in a room beyond the room – a safe room if you will, only accessible through a cinder wall outfitted with a keypad coded to mine and Troy’s fingerprints. Low-level thugs would never be able to break-in, they’d never even know it existed, distracted by the low-hanging fruit in the outer office.

  But someone had figured it out, and I needed to find out who.

  “Troy!” I yelled into the hallway, hanging up the phone.

  “Brother, what is it?” he called back.

  “Get your shit together, the shit’s just hit the fan,” I growled, grabbing my keys before heading to the club.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Kristen

  “So … how did you become an escort?” I asked shyly. It was ironic that I was the shy one, when Rachel was the one with the seedy past. But she owned it, unashamed of her history, and smiled at me kindly.

  “Krissy, your brothers were good to me, and I’ll never forget it,” she said. “I was a broken woman, living with an abusive boyfriend with a burgeoning drug habit,” she said. “Your brothers worked with me, paying for rehab, paying for a place for me to stay so that I could get away from my ex and kick my addiction,” she said.

  “But … how did you meet Troy and Tyler?” I asked.

  She shrugged, sighing heavily at the memories. “I was a ‘street girl,’ for better or worse,” she began. Seeing my confused expression, she clarified. “I was a hooker who stood on the sidewalk, picking up random johns,” she said. “The lowest level hooker there is, the one who makes the least for the most amount of danger.”

  Looking at her, I could hardly believe it. She couldn’t be a day over twenty-five, and even in the bright light of day, looked fresh-faced and friendly.

  Seeing my disbelieving expression, she nodded. “I think that’s why your brothers hired me. When I met them, I was a mess. My boyfriend was my pimp,” she continued. “I thought he loved me because he let me live with him when I wasn’t working, and treated me nice after I got beat-up by clients.”

  “I know it sound pathetic, like I’m a victim straight out of Law and Order. But it really did happen,” she confided.

  “Anyways,” she continued, “a client is the one who tipped me off to Club Luxe. He took pity on me, the scabs on my arms, the cigarette burns on my skin, and said he’d set up an audition with your brothers.”

  “They took me in, Krissy. I was in no state to dance, malnourished and bony, sweaty from withdrawal. But they put a bet on me … that they could help me turn my life around, and worked with me until I was ready to join their service.”

  “Did you feel like you had to escort? Did my brothers make you do it?” I asked. This was a crucial question. If Troy and Tyler had forced a woman against her will … I didn’t know what I was going to do.

  Rachel’s smile was so wide that it was like the sun had broken from the clouds.

  “Oh god no, Troy and Tyler never forced me into either stripping or escorting. It was I who begged them to let me do it,” she said. “Remember, at this point in my life, I had no skills. What else was I going to do? I probably couldn’t even get a job at McDonald’s because of my drug history. So I wanted to strip, I wanted to see men … to build myself up, to start making money so that I could move onto the next phase of my life,” she said confidently.

  I was silent for a while. This was a side of escorting that I’d never dreamed of. I’d always thought that the women were pressured into service, that they had no other options. And it was true, in a way. Rachel had had no assets except a delectable body and pretty face. But it sounded like she’d done it mostly for herself, to build up a financial cushion, and even improve her self-esteem in some sense.

  “Did you like it?” I asked. And then the million dollar question. “Do you still escort?”

  Rachel laughed at this one.

  “Baby, I loved it. I loved taking my clothes off for money, letting men touch my tits and cunny. There’s nothing quite like a guy stroking himself, all the while unable to tear his eyes off you,” she confided.

  “And the money … honey, I’ll never see money like that again. I made between two and ten thousand per night,” she said. “Bartenders are paid well, but not that well. And no, I don’t escort anymore. I have a boyfriend, a real boyfriend now, and while he knows about my past, I’d never think about stepping out on him.”

  And I smiled. Although I’d been stunned by this turn of events, I was happy for Rachel. I was happy that she’d found her own contentment, a stable job and relationship with someone she loved. Would I ever escort? No way. But I couldn’t judge her for taking this path, and with my brothers’ guidance and support, it looked like she’d come out okay.

  Relieved, I smiled at her and said thank you.

  “I really appreciate your time,” I said. “I know it can’t be easy reliving your past, sharing your history with a stranger.”

  “No worries, Krissy, I’d do anything for your brothers,” she said. And then more seriously, “and I really mean anything, after they took me in during that dark period of my life. But honey … when are you going to announce the pregnancy?” she asked.

  And I gasped, coloring. How had she known? I was barely showing.

  “Other women always know,” she laughed at my baffled expression. “Take care of that baby will you? It’s a Lyon baby,” she said with a wink.

  How had she known that it was my brothers’ child? But she’d slid off the bar stool and disappeared before I could ask.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Troy

  I was sure that Tyler’s fears were overblown. My twin is just too focused sometimes, too serious, making everything a full-blown red alert when it’s nothing. Honestly, this whole break-in thing? Who the fuck cared if there were some dancing girls on video? They were just try-outs and no money was exchanged.

  As I understand it, convictions still have to be based on hard evidence, not circumstantial stuff like naked movies. There has to be a transaction, and there wasn’t in this case. But I guess Tyler has a point … law enforcement isn’t exactly rational,
and going to trial would be a pain in the ass better to avoid.

  “So what is it brother?” I asked, letting myself into the office.

  The security consultant was there as well, and both heads turned as I strode in.

  “Whoa, so serious!” I laughed, holding my hands up. “Looks like the doom squad is here.”

  Tyler frowned, and I swear he was almost growling under his breath. But Mike, the security guy, was a professional.

  “Mr. Lyon,” he said smoothly. “As you know, the safe room can only be accessed through the touchpad, which is keyed to you and your brothers’ fingerprints. Even identical twins have unique prints,” he said slowly.

  “So what are you getting at?” I asked. “That I stole Tyler’s prints?” I still wasn’t taking this seriously, even as the snarl on my brother’s face intensified.

  “No,” replied Mike. “The keypad history reveals that you were the one who broke in,” he said. “It’s your prints that opened the door, and your prints all over the computer in question.”

  That got me.

  “No … fucking … way,” I drawled with a smirk. “A ghost … with my fingerprints.”

  Evidently, Tyler couldn’t take it anymore. He burst from his chair and tackled me, both of us falling to the ground with a hard thump and seized my collar.

  “What the FUCK is wrong with you?” he roared, so red that his face looked like it was going to fucking burst, spittle hitting my chin. “What the FUCK?” he yelled, pounding my head against the floor.

  The security man tried to intervene, but he was small and slim, no match for two six five athletes intent on beating each other to a pulp. I twisted in my brother’s grasp, managing to wrestle him into an awkward position and got a good punch to the head. By now the fight was loud, papers flying everywhere, furniture getting banged around, and I knew people outside could hear.

  “There is NOTHING the FUCK wrong with me,” I roared back, not giving a fuck who knew we were fighting. The only thing I wanted was to pound my brother’s face, make him bleed. “You’re such a fucking DUMB SHIT!” I added with sucker punch to the groin. I don’t fight fair, especially with Tyler.

  But my brother knew me too well and was able to twist his body so that the blow landed on his hip. With a guttural grunt, he kicked my thigh and was able to hit me in the abs, once, hard, which made me gasp, before I knocked his head against the side of the desk, his eyes rolling back in his head from the impact.

  I was just about to deliver another blow when I heard Krissy’s voice above the din.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” she shrieked, her hands covering her belly protectively. Even this early in the pregnancy, our little sister was conscious of her fragile state. I stood back, heaving, glaring murderously at my brother as he got up, trying to straighten his clothes despite the fact that they were torn and bloody.

  “Mike, if you could please leave us for a moment, this is a family affair,” she said. The security guy nodded and disappeared wordlessly as Krissy shut the door.

  “What is wrong with you?” she cried. “How can you be having a knock-down drag-out fight in a place of business? You’re the bosses here! You’re supposed to set an example!” she cried.

  I was ashamed, and hung my head. Evidently, Tyler was feeling bad as well, and tried to explain.

  “Well …” he began.

  “No, don’t start,” she snapped. “I don’t want to hear it. By the time we get back home, the two of you better have shaped up,” she said, her eyes shimmering with tears. And that knocked sense into my head. We couldn’t support the woman we loved if we were fighting like beasts. We needed to provide a support system, a unified front during these trying times.

  “Sister, you’re right,” I said, with a level glance at my brother. “Let’s just go home, and we’ll make it up to you.” And with that, I took her elbow and escorted her to the car.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Krissy

  I sat back in the Jacuzzi tub, my back aching slightly. It was weird. I’m only about eight weeks in, but all the symptoms of pregnancy are on me, including morning sickness, a generally tired body, and bloat. I leaned my head back with a sigh, letting myself relax and float in the water.

  Tyler and Troy had drawn the bath for me, penitent, wanting to appease me. They’d helped me undress, kissing my curves gently, and settled me into the tub before disappearing, hopefully to make some dinner. I was always hungry now, eating for two.

  But the door opened shortly, and the twins came in, cleaned up and handsome. Tyler had a scratch over his eye, and Troy looked like he was moving a little stiffly, but overall, they seemed okay.

  “Sister,” said Troy. “Let us make you happy.”

  I looked at them expectantly. Was there food hidden somewhere?

  But the twins began to strip, revealing their magnificent forms, and I gasped reflexively. In these few months, I still haven’t gotten used to how handsome they are, how aggressively masculine with dominant, athletic builds. Of course, my cunny started running, feeling soft and wet even in the water.

  “Brothers,” I said softly. “Why are you doing this?”

  Both paused for a moment, giving me searching looks.

  “Sister, there is nothing more important to us that you and the baby. We want to show our love for you … the physical aspect … the best way we know how,” growled Tyler.

  “You make us so happy,” added Troy.

  My breath hitched. This was the first time that my brothers had ever used the word “love.” Sure, they’d said I was their “secret girlfriend,” the one they couldn’t reveal to the public, the one they treated with care behind closed doors. But my heart leaped at these new declarations because maybe I would be acknowledged. Maybe we’d find some way to live out loud, despite the fact that we were siblings.

  With a smile, I held out my arms to them and said, “Come join me brothers.”

  And both men slipped into the Jacuzzi, their bodies massive and hard on either side. The water rippled, brushing my nipples erotically.

  “Sister,” said Troy, breathing into my ear while lapping my neck. “You’re incredibly beautiful. Knowing that you have our baby in you only turns me on more.”

  And Tyler growled his agreement, his big hand trailing down my belly to softly stroke between my thighs. I sighed, because this was exactly the relief I needed, something that would take my mind off my achy, bloated body. Two cocks … the perfect medicine.

  I kissed Troy, sucking on his tongue, and mewled as his hand traced my breast, skimming the nipple, playing with it as it hardened and bounced. Troy’s hands, meanwhile, were doing the most erotic things underwater. He’d slipped a finger into my pussy, growling at how wet it was, and was currently stroking his finger in and out, stirring occasionally to vary the tempo.

  I breathed heavily as Tyler’s other hand slipped between my butt cheeks, toying with my anus. I’ve become an “anal aficionado,” is that what it’s called? With two men to please, I’ve learned to use all of my holes for the maximum pleasure, and my back hole is a favorite that my brothers hit regularly now.

  Tyler eased a finger into back pucker, and the strain made me squirm and squeal a bit.

  “Hush, sister, enjoy,” rumbled Tyler, dropping kisses over my shoulder and back. As he fingered both my ass and pussy at once, I suddenly felt another hand on my breast. Oh fuck! Tyler’s hands were so big that he was able to finger me in both holes with one hand, leaving the other free to stroke me elsewhere.

  I was quickly headed over the edge, and my brothers knew exactly how to take me there. Tyler pumped his hand furiously, both holes getting worked, as Troy pressed kisses all over my body, squeezing and pulling on my tits. The rush came like a sudden tide. I felt a wave building in the base of my cunt which uncurled and spread all over my body, making me cry and buck on my brothers’ hands.

  “Troy! Tyler!” I shrieked, helpless in their arms, my cunny and ass clenching down with spasms of pleasure. My b
rothers rode the wave with me, grinding their cocks against my body as I came, those hard, massive poles like hot coals against my slick skin.

  And I wanted them to have relief. As my shuddering subsided, I gave them a languorous look, and slowly raised myself so that I was on my hands and knees in the Jacuzzi, my pussy just above the water line.

  “Do me?” I said with invitation, calling to Tyler. And he didn’t hesitate. He pushed his cock into my cunt with one swift motion, that donkey dong practically lifting me in the air as my little body cried out, struggling to fit him even after all these times. I mewled and squealed, impaled on that pole, my face a mask of ecstasy.

  But I wanted to be fully plugged. With another inviting glance, I opened my mouth, pursing my lips into a glossy, pink “O.” Troy immediately pushed his dick in, that hard, hot glans scraping my soft palate before making its way deep down my throat.

  Oh god, it felt so good. I was stuffed with dick in my pussy and mouth. Ahhhhh, fuck.

  And my brothers began fucking me, running their hard, hot shafts into my body again and again. There was no mercy, and they fucked me so hard that the water sloshed everywhere, half of it ending outside the tub from their furious jerks and pulls. But it was worth it. They erupted with massive roars, their pecs twitching, faces like conquerors as they exploded in me, filling me with that creamy, virile white. It splashed down my throat and up my cunt, nourishing me, flooding me with the physical manifestation of their love.