by Sky Corgan
Now that the sex is over, I feel kind of awkward. They're not acting strangely at all. It's me, allowing myself to get stuck in my own head.
Devlin escorts me into the bathroom, and the three of us slip into the shower together. We spend the next fifteen minutes bathing each other. Gareth scrubs down my body while Devlin shampoos my hair. It's a nice pampering after a hard fucking. Once more, I feel like I'm in heaven.
It's not until the shower is over that the awkwardness returns. I wrap a towel around myself and head into the living room to retrieve my clothes and get dressed, sighing as I pick my underwear up off of the floor. It's definitely time for the walk of shame now.
“What are you doing?” Devlin's arms wrap around me, startling me.
“I'm getting dressed,” I reply as if it's obvious.
“No, you're not. You're staying the night with us...unless you have something more important to do.” He kisses the base of my neck, making me swoon.
I curl my hand around his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “No, I don't have anything more important to do.”
Sleeping between them is strange. As much as I'm glad that they asked me to stay, I feel a little claustrophobic. Gareth spoons me from behind while Devlin falls asleep on his stomach about a foot away. Even though they're not fighting over who gets to cuddle me, I'm still not used to sharing a bed with more than one person. Hell, I'm used to sleeping alone. This is something else I could get used to, though, with time.
Thanks to being exhausted, I'm able to fall asleep quickly. The morning seems to come just as fast, though.
I blink awake to the lights streaming in through the blinds. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, but then everything comes back to me. Gareth rolled over in his sleep and is facing away from me. Devlin's back is pressed against my arm, and we're glued together with sweat. Somehow, I find it amusing. That quickly fades though when I realize that I feel trapped again. It's always weird sleeping with someone for the first time—waking up in their bed.
I want to get up, but I'm afraid of rousing them. I don't even know if they're morning people or not. Maybe they'll get mad if I wake them up.
I decide to just lie there for a while.
Thankfully, it doesn't take long for Gareth to stir. I pretend to be asleep as he rolls out of bed and leaves the room. Devlin doesn't so much as twitch, so I can only assume that he's a heavy sleeper.
Cautiously, I crawl out of bed and get dressed before going to find Gareth. He's in the kitchen making breakfast, apparently the chef of the two.
“Morning.” He smiles at me over his shoulder as he cracks eggs into a skillet.
“Morning.” I yawn and stretch before leaning against the kitchen island.
“How did you sleep?”
“Hard.” I trace a circle in the marble with my fingertip.
“Me too. It's been a while since I've been so worn out,” he laughs.
“Me too.” I grin.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself last night. We both do. I also hope you like your eggs sunny side up.” His eyes widen.
“I did and I do. But you don't have to feed me.” My expression sulks as I begin to think that I probably overstayed my welcome.
“Of course, we do. We're not going to send our girl off hungry.”
“Your girl, huh?” His cute little comment makes my mood perk up.
“Yeah.” He grabs a salt shaker from one of the cabinets to season the eggs.
“So, you guys were serious last night...about wanting an actual relationship?” I rest my weight on the counter, a bit embarrassed about the question.
“Dead serious,” Devlin's voice chimes in behind me.
I turn to look at him and can't help but smirk at his disheveled hair. He looks so sleepy and adorable and sexy. I almost want to jump him again.
He steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around me in a loving embrace. I lean into his touch, completely content.
“We really like you, Rose,” he whispers sweetly into my ear. “We want to be with you.”
My fear of being used is eradicated as we all eat breakfast together. The conversation flows seamlessly, and I'm amazed at how compatible the three of us are. It wasn't just the alcohol that made us get along so well. There's a genuine connection there. And to be honest, even though we just met, I feel a great affection for them both. They're great, caring and kind, and absolutely incredible in bed.
“Dinner again tonight?” Devlin asks as he escorts me to the door after breakfast.
“You want to see me again so soon?” I can't hide the surprise from my voice.
“See you and do other things to you.” He closes in on me, placing his hands on my waist and bending down for a chaste kiss on the lips.
Gareth is by his side, waiting for his turn.
It so weird kissing one man and then another right after. This still doesn't feel real. At any moment, I expect to wake up from the most amazing wet dream.
It's not a wet dream though. They're mine. Both of them. My hot neighbors. And I can't wait to see where this relationship is going to go.
To further support this author, please post a review after you finish reading this book.
You can get a FREE Sky Corgan novel and stay up to date on her latest releases by signing up for her newsletter.
Sky Corgan's Newsletter
You can also connect with this author via
Facebook
and
Twitter
Bonus excerpt from Between Two Billionaires
“Eureka! I found it!” Ethel bursts through my bedroom door. A broad smile stretches across her face as if she has the best news in the world.
I groan, turning my computer chair towards her. “Don't you know how to knock?”
Apparently, she doesn't. She's prone to walking into my room whenever she wants, no matter how many times I chastise her about it. You'd think she owned the place. She doesn't own the place. Our parents do. But, if I'm being honest, she was here first. My mom and I moved in a few years ago when our parents finally got married.
“So.” Ethel sets herself down on my bed, making herself comfortable. “There's this rich guy who is throwing a party this weekend.” She looks at me expectantly, as if she thinks I can read her mind.
“And?” I can't hide the annoyance from my voice. It's not like I was doing anything important. Just chatting online with friends. It's the principal of the matter though. I could have been naked, and she just walked right in like it was nothing.
“That's where I'm going to meet my rich husband.” She does a strange head roll, as if the answer should have been obvious.
I can't help but laugh. “You do that.”
“I am, and you're coming with me.”
“Oh?” This is news to me. I'm not at all interested, but I know I have no choice but to hear her out. That's what she came here for, to dish out her devious plan.
“Yup. You and Lisa. Maybe we'll all get rich husbands,” she squeals as if she's imagining us all with Prince Charmings on our arms. Sometimes I wonder how she survives, living in such inflated fantasies. Her life is a roller coaster of irrational hope and disappointment. Maybe if she'd just get a job, she wouldn't have to worry about finding a rich husband to support her.
“The rich husband thing is all you.” I smirk, turning my chair to face her. She's not going anywhere any time soon; I can tell.
“Every girl wants a rich husband,” she sighs dreamily.
“If you say so.” There's no point in arguing with her. Then I'd have to sit through a lecture detailing out why marrying rich is the best way to go. The answers are obvious, but that's not what I want for myself. I want to get by on hard work, supporting myself, never having to rely on a man.
“So anyway, you're in, right?” She readjusts herself on the bed, staring at me intently. Her dark eyes are so big, it's hard not to get caught up in her enthusiasm.
“I'm not really interested,” I say hesitantly.
&n
bsp; “Girl, you haven't even heard my plan yet.” She flips her hand out at me, throwing her head back in an exaggerated gesture. Such a diva.
“Enlighten me, then.” I cross my arms over my chest, completely expecting something outlandish.
“Apparently, this guy throws parties every few months. Security is really lax.”
“That doesn't sound like how a rich guy would run things at all. Are you sure you're not talking about a party in the ghetto?” I tease her.
“Would you just shut up and listen to me for half a second.” Her temper flairs.
I know better than to say anything more, so I simply make a gesture like I'm zipping my lips, smiling all the while. There's a thin line between playing with Ethel and fighting with her. I learned that a long time ago when we first moved in together. Those days were horrible. I can handle her now though.
“Anyway.” She rolls her eyes, sighing out her discontent. It disappears just as quickly as it came on. “I figured that if we pretended to be strippers, we could get in easy-peasy.”
I arch an eyebrow, knowing I'm treading that line with my skepticism. “Me. Pretend to be a stripper.” That's a laugh. I'm the epitome of wholesome. Like, Catholic school girl wholesome, in a very literal sense. Before our parents met, I actually went to an all-female Catholic school. It wasn't until Ethel's father convinced my mom that I needed to learn how to survive the general populous that my mom finally switched me over to a normal public school. I was like such a fish out of water back then, and I honestly don't think I ever really socially adjusted. Maybe that's why I feel so awkward all the time. Oh well. It can't be changed now. All I know is that I took a lot of the values from Catholic school with me. I've only kissed one boy in my entire life, and I wouldn't even dream of having sex outside of wedlock. The idea of dressing up like a stripper just to get into some stupid party is preposterous to me.
“Come on, Sarah, it will be fun.” Ethel scoots closer to me on the bed. “Haven't you ever wanted to look sexy?”
“Nope. Never.” I shake my head. Sexy gives men the wrong impression. Sexy can get you into trouble.
“Ugh. You're so lame.” Frustration takes over the anger she was once displaying. She knows this is a losing battle. I won't budge.
“You have Lisa. You girls go have fun. You can tell me all about it afterward.” I try to calm her with a smile.
She stands, her body ridged. “You know what, you're never going to experience anything that life has to offer if you keep staying inside this little shell you've created for yourself.” She presses her fingertips together and draws them out and around, creating an invisible shell with her hands.
I'm perfectly fine with my shell, I want to say, but instead, I simply reply, “I know.” There's no point in arguing.
A vein in her neck bulges. Cruel words are sitting on her tongue. I wait for her to spit them at me, but thankfully, she just shakes her head and leaves, taking the tension in the room with her. I sigh, grateful that it's over. What a stupid thing to argue about. She should know by now that her and I are as different as night and day. The things she's interested in, I'm not, and that includes finding some man to shack up with.
I sit in silence for a moment, trying not to let the conversation get to me. It's difficult. She may only be my step-sister, but I still want her to like me. Maybe I should try harder. There has to be better ways than this though.
***
It's Saturday night, and I'm exhausted from a long day working at the coffee shop. Saving up to pay for college is hard. If I had known it was going to be this difficult, to take so long, I would have applied for more scholarships. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. It does no good to think of the past. I've made my own bed, slacked off too much in an attempt to be liked by the kids at school, to try to fit in. Wanting to fit in was a mistake. Now I'm struggling like the rest of them. Lessons learned in youth continue to haunt me as an adult. Now I have to rectify my mistakes. I try not to be unhappy about it, but it's hard sometimes.
I can hear heavy footsteps treading down the hall towards my room. It's Ethel. I don't even need to wonder what's coming next. No one walks that heavily in this house when they're angry but her. I turn my computer chair towards the door before she even has a chance to barge in on me unannounced.
“You're not going to believe this,” she growls, slamming my door behind herself. I can't help but wince. This is a ragefit that I have absolutely nothing to do with, but I'm about to feel the brunt of it.
“Tell me all about it.” I reach over and pat my bed, trying to be supportive.
From what I can tell, Lisa and her must have gotten into a fight right before they were supposed to leave for the party. Ethel looks stunning in a short red dress that compliments her mocha skin. I love her skin. It's so dark and smooth and flawless. She's a gorgeous girl, and men generally flock after her, but she doesn't want anyone who doesn't have money, no matter how nice he is. I'm still not completely sure why she's like this. It's not like she grew up in the ghetto. It's not like her father never had money. He's a dentist, and he's always spoiled her. Maybe she's just used to it. Maybe she thinks that's the way all men should treat her.
“That bitch bailed on me at the last fucking minute,” she seethes, dropping herself heavily onto my bed and crossing her arms over her chest. I admire her nail polish. It matches the dress perfectly, as does her lipstick, heels, and ear rings. I've never seen a stripper look so high class.
“I'm sorry, Ethel.”
Her voice softens into sympathy, and she averts her eyes. “She's sick. She really wanted to make it. Got ready and everything. But then she started throwing up.”
“That's horrible.” I know where this is about to lead. She's trying to hide her anger and getting ready to start pouting in hopes that I'll join her. It's not happening. “You said the guy throws a party every few months. There's always next time.”
“Next time,” she huffs. “I don't think I can wait a few more months to get out of this hell hole.” She looks around my room as if it's a dump. Sometimes I wonder if she realizes how easy we actually have it. Probably not, if she's acting so childish.
“You've waited this long,” I sigh, trying not to show my disapproval at her attitude. It's hard though. Unlike her, my mother and I struggled for several years while her and my biological father were divorced. If it wasn't for my grandmother paying for my admission into Catholic school, that wouldn't have even happened.
“Sarah, you don't understand,” Ethel insists. “I went all out for this party. I bought this dress, and I even had business cards made for us.”
“Business cards?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” She digs in her purse and pulls out a billfold, opening it and extracting several business cards. She hands them over to me, and I look at the embossed front. It shows a picture of a girl hanging off of a pole with the words At Your Service Strippers.
I scowl as I read the fake name of the company. “Could you have picked anything filthier for a name?”
“Yeah, I could have,” the heat in her voice returns. “I could have picked Tits in Your Face or Naked Bitches.”
I roll my eyes, handing the cards back to her. “Well, I'm sorry this isn't going to happen for you.”
She takes the cards and puts them back in her billfold, trying desperately to temper her frustration at me. “It can still happen if you come with me.”
“I think you'd do better as a lone stripper.” It's both a suggestion and a mockery at the same time.
“Strippers don't show up alone, fool.” She glares at me.
“Maybe they do for rich guys.”
“I think there's a rule against it.” She scratches her head. “Safety in numbers, and all.”
“Don't know. Don't care. Not going.” I roll my chair back around to face my computer, indicating that the conversation is over.
“Are you seriously just going to sit here and play on your fucking computer all night?” She gestures to the screen. “
There's a whole world out there, Sarah, and you're just letting it pass you by.”
“We're done,” my voice is measured.
I can feel her icy gaze on my backside. The tension in the room is getting thick, and I'm beginning to worry it might suffocate me. Hopefully, she'll leave soon.
“Please, Sarah,” she begs.
“No.” I'm unwavering.
“I've got a really cute dress you can wear,” her tone lifts, trying to convince me with kindness.
“Not interested.”
“I'll show you.” She stands up and leaves, matching my stubbornness. Now, more than ever, I wish there were locks on the doors. Her father removed them because Ethel kept locking her door and sneaking out of the house when we were younger. Even though we're adults now, he hasn't put the locks back on. Maybe I should ask, next time I think about it. That would stop her from barging into my room all the time.
Ethel returns several minutes later holding a baby blue dress on a hanger. I turn to look at it, and I feel a heaviness in my chest. She knows I love the dress. I've told her that every time I've seen her wear it. Secretly, I've always wanted to try it on, but Ethel is a real bitch when it comes to sharing clothes. The fact that she's presenting me with it speaks volumes about how much going to this party means to her.
“You'll look stunning in it,” she emphasizes the word stunning. “You can wear these too.” She lifts up a pair of matching heels.
Crap. This is the one and only time she'll ever offer to let me try the dress on, and if I put it on, it means that I'll be obligated to go. Backing out afterward will lead straight into a fight that might blow the roof off the house, and I really don't want that.
“I don't know.” I bite my bottom lip.
She knows I'm caving, and she pushes even harder. “Look. It's long enough to be modest. Besides, it's not like we're really going to be stripping. We're just going to use the cards to get in, and then we're going to hang out and have a good time. You don't even have to socialize if you want. You can find a corner to sulk in until it's time to leave.” The corner of her lip quirks up into a smirk.