Romance: Stepbrother Rivalry (Stepbrother Menage BBW Love Triangle) (Forbidden Taboo of Billionaire, New Adult, BBW, Contemporary Romance, Threesome)

by Veronica Rotica

  “Fuck off, man. Don’t you have a stewardess to sexually harass or something?” Jennifer had never had a commitment with Michael nor did she have an actual relationship. She had seen movies and television and even spotted a few in real life but when the reality hit her that she was now the booty call, it wasn’t as entertaining as it had been on the big screen. Dean returned his attentions to the phone and asked,

  “So, what time is the wedding?”

  Saturday morning sun brought promises of hope, love and destiny. Jennifer’s younger sister, Tara, was about to marry the man of her dreams, a young lawyer named Damon Blake. The wedding was to be at their parents’ home in upstate New York and Jennifer and Dean would have to leave soon. She was checking herself in the mirror when she heard the door buzzer so she made sure all the lights were off and all candles had been extinguished before heading out the door. Dean smiled when he saw her walking towards the car and put his hands over his chest in an exaggerated gesture while saying,

  “Gorgeous. You look stunning, really. Thank you for inviting me.” He held the car door open for her and she told him that he looked “rather spiffy” himself with a smile that made Dean’s smile even that much wider. It was as if she was a fuel to his spark and the radiance given off by her only accelerated the emotions that swelled within himself. The two talked all the way to the country about everything from dog breeds and pizza toppings to bad country songs. She had never realized how much the two of them had in common from their hatred of the Chihuahua to their love of Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza and she enjoyed how easy it was to talk to him. Effortlessly. He had always just been Dean, Michael’s stepbrother, that she had never given him a chance to be Dean Winthrop, friend and/or more.

  Tara looked beautiful as she walked down the aisle and Jennifer allowed a tear or two to escape the blockade of waterproof mascara and eyeliner. At the reception, Jennifer introduced her sister to Dean, who must have made a very good first impression because later in the evening, Tara pulled her aside.

  “Oh. My. God. Jenny! Who is the Adonis in Armani? He’s gorgeous! I can’t believe you have been keeping him a secret.” Tara gushed over Dean as if he were a new puppy.

  “It’s not like that, Tara. Really. He’s just a friend.” She told Tara of her trip to Italy and showed off her earrings and necklace, which beautifully complemented her tea-length, burgundy bridesmaid’s dress.

  “Jenny. Babe. Look at that cake right there.” Dean stood with two other men making small talk and almost as if on cue, he raised his glass in their direction. “He’s so into you and here you are talking about what a good friend this guy is. Blah-fucking-blah, Jen. He’s a keeper, that one. If I wasn’t already married…” and she held up her finger and the girls squealed and giggled over the ring and Jennifer hugged her little sister in congratulations and best wishes.

  Jennifer and Dean took a walk of the grounds and Jennifer pointed out little places that meant something to her from her younger years. Dean took her hand in his while they walked by a large oak tree.

  “That tree. That one right there. That’s the bastard that broke my arm when I was ten. It pushed me right down out of that limb riiiiight….there”. She pointed with her left hand, turning in towards Dean with her movement and he turned his body towards hers and in a moment of complete fluidity and grace, he swept her in his arms, right around her waist and left hand behind her head, holding her hair out of the way with his thumb. He kissed her softly and she reciprocated his affections by responding with a soft massage of his tongue with her own. A slight gasp escaped her lips as they pulled apart then back together as if being drawn by gravity. He pulled her tighter with his right arm as his other hand explored the textures and sensations of her hair tickling his hand as he slowly ran his hand through it. She pulled back from him and asked,

  “Would you like to see the rest of the house?” She bit her lip, hinting that her childhood bedroom was also part of the house and he looked around to make sure nobody was watching them, then as if children at play, they darted towards the house, hand-in-hand. Jennifer opened the back door from the patio and yelled,

  “Hello? Is anybody in here?” Everything they needed for the wedding was provided by the caterer and the house was supposed to be off limits for the ceremony since the guest house provided adequate facilities and was closer to the garden.

  Kissing him and giggling like a girl, she pulled him up the stairs and to the room of a high school girl who never really fit in. There were posters up from ten years ago and many of them were stained with lipstick kisses.

  “Nice.” Dean laughed as he looked around the room and Jennifer said,

  “Hey. Don’t judge. I’ll have you know that if the lead singer for “Snatch Dragon” hadn’t died from that homemade bungee device, you never know what could have happened with them. She laughed and pulled him in for a kiss and he turned her to place her back against the wall then took her hands and held them over her head. Both arms raised over her head, Jennifer felt completely vulnerable and defenseless but exhilarated at the same time. He held her wrists with one hand and kissed her deeply, running his free hand down her cheek, then to her breasts, which he lightly outlined with his hand as it traveled down her side to rest on her hip. His fingers made a walking motion which pulled her dress hem up with each slight movement. When the bottom of her dress reached his hand, he slid it underneath and found her most tender of areas was moist with anticipation. He rubbed her over her panties with a delicate touch and made small circular motions as she rocked her hips. She threw her left leg up to rest on his hip which also allowed his fingers better range. He slid her panties to the side and ran his finger over her throbbing clit, then down to her opening to lubricate his nimble fingers in her juices before returning them. The heat of her fluids sent wave through her body as he massaged her aching clitoris, then darting into her love crevice for a slight penetration and then back to her clit. Back and forth, forth and back until Jennifer felt the heat start to rise from her toes then up her legs and to the pit of her stomach, exploding in an orgasm that caused her raised leg to hike and her hands to leave the wall and wrap her arms around his shoulders while burying her face into his as he finished polishing her pearl.

  With her arms still around him, he led her to the bed and gently laid her down, following her body like they shared the same thoughts and feelings, as if they were one. He kissed her with passion that she had never felt, so pure and unadulterated. It made her feel alive. She fumbled with his slacks but finally got the button and zipper so he could remove them while she adjusted her dress, hiking it all the way up to her waist and moving it to the side. Dean kissed her again then pulled back to look into her eyes and said,

  “Are you sure you want to do this. I’m fine, either way. I don’t want you to feel pressured at all.” She replied by forcefully pulling him to her and kissing him deeply, with a fire that burned deep in her soul. He assumed that she wanted to do this, so he took his cock and held it firmly in his hand, rubbing it slowly up and down her wet pussy, lubricating it in her moisture before penetrating her still quivering opening. She writhed underneath him, enthralled in ecstasy like never before, completely forgetting that there was a wedding reception outside. Her thoughts forgot everything other than the feeling of Dean’s hard body against hers. He kissed her deeply then slowly inserted himself into her, savoring the sporadic tighten and release of her vaginal muscles from her orgasm only seconds earlier. He slowly slid out and looked into her eyes as he made another inward stroke, maintaining eye contact until he closed his eyes and buried his head in her hair, smelling the lavender in her shampoo mixed with the scent of their two bodies. He kissed her on the neck, lightly sucking but careful not to suck too hard as his hand found her breast and freed it from the constricting dress. He thumbed her nipple to get it hard as he licked and playfully bit her neck, then moved his attention to the large breast in his hand. Her nipple was already hard when he began to suck on it and it only got h
arder. He timed his thrusts with the motions of the biting and sucking and pinching he was doing to her nipple and with a slight pelvic tilt upwards, hitting her soft tissue of the fabled G-spot, he had her reaching new heights of climax that she had never known before. She had had orgasms before but never like this. Nothing close to the powerful clinch of her tight pussy as it gripped his cock while she moaned out his name and begged him not to stop. He rubbed her clit as he continued to hit her in her special place, bringing her to orgasm again almost instantly. Her breathing became erratic and she threw her head back into the pillow and grabbed a stuffed animal from the collection gathered at the head of the bed and screamed into it. Dean slowed his strokes and looked at her with a smug look of pride and self- confidence as she laughed and placed both hands on his hips, lightly grazing them with the nails of both hands. He leaned down to kiss her again and motioned for her to hop up and over, so she rolled onto her hands and knees and he took his place behind her. He put himself back inside of her then put his hands on her ass cheeks and grasped it in both hands, feeling the softness of her skin as he fucked her doggy style on her old bed in her old room. His pace quickened and he slapped her on the ass and moaned,

  “Oh god, yes” and he pulled himself out of her and shot his salty, sticky load on her round ass. He looked around for something to use to clean her off with and she said,

  “Top drawer of the dresser. There should be a pair of socks.” She said from her position on her knees, propped up on her elbows, waiting for him to help her clean herself. He wiped her down and made sure it was safe to drop the skirt of her dress then leaned down and kissed her again.

  Jennifer didn’t remember the ride home, she didn’t remember the best man’s toast and she didn’t remember what she did with that damn pair of socks but what she did know was that he had severely underestimated meek, good-natured Dean. The two of them talked all the way home, his arm around her in a protective embrace and her lovingly stroking his hand as they chatted. She was happy for the first time in a while and she didn’t want to rush into things too quickly, but she was pretty sure her sister was right. This one’s a keeper. She wasn’t going to worry about keeping Dean because she had learned that if you have to worry about it, it’s not worth keeping, so they took things day by day. He showered her with gifts often but she had told him that stuff doesn’t matter to her, what matters is what an amazing guy he is and how good he was to her. All the money in the world can’t but decency, which is just one more reason she was falling in love with Dean. She suspected that one day their relationship may grow into one that uses words like “Future” and “Forever”, but she was perfectly fine with him being “For Now” with the possibility of hope, love and destiny.

  Part II

  Jennifer Trask’s day began when she opened her eyes and saw the Eiffel Tower from the giant bed of the penthouse suite in which she would be spending an entire week. She smiled and stretched then tossed the ivory colored silk sheet and comforter aside so she could slip her feet into the slippers that awaited her beside the bed. She walked to the closet and plucked forth her robe so she could sit on the terrace and enjoy the Paris morning. Her wild red hair still a mess, she combed it away from her face with her fingers and shook her head, allowing the untamed tendrils to fall randomly. The silver tray in the main room of the suite suggested that Dean had already ordered room service and was probably gone to a meeting or to schmooze some client. She poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a croissant then headed towards the terrace. When he asked her if she wanted to spend a week in Paris, this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. It was nice, being in the city of love with Dean Winthrop, heartthrob and billionaire bachelor. Dean and his stepbrother, Michael, were co-owners of a media corporation that had been founded by both of their late fathers and merged before the death of the senior Dunham. Both men were left with an empire to run and Dean seemed to take his position a little more seriously, whereas Michael was known to be reckless and flippant about business. Jennifer had a brief fling with Michael but all the while it had been Dean who had real feelings for her. She was once torn between the two but now here she was in Paris with Dean. More precisely, she was in Paris…and so was Dean. Since the moment they checked in to the hotel, Dean had been on his phone or sending emails or at the office and this was their second full day in France and they had yet to do anything as a couple. She had gone shopping yesterday and while she was in Versace trying on dresses, Dean called to tell her that he would be late and to have dinner without him. She was disappointed but ended up having a fun night in a quaint café a few blocks from the hotel. Dean had told her to have the car drive her wherever she wanted to go but she preferred to walk and get a real feel for her surroundings.

  Jennifer tied the satin robe around her waist, pronouncing her full hips and thighs, as it reached only inches below her full bottom. Opening the double doors, she stepped onto the balcony and set her coffee on the small patio table, then walked to the four foot railing, smiling into the morning sun with her eyes closed and arms outstretched. Taking in a deep breath, she raised her arms over her head and stretched upward, then opened her eyes and said,

  “Good morning, Paris.” She went to the table and sat down, admiring the flowers that adorned almost every square inch of the perimeter of the veranda. Blooms in red, pink, purple, blue and yellow brightened the morning and provided a pleasant aroma that seeped into her soul and seemed to fill her with sunshine and happiness. She sipped her coffee in silence, reveling in the beauty of her surroundings and taking it in, one petal at a time. She took a bite of her croissant and propped her feet up on the chair on the other side of the table. From this height, the buzz and frenzy of the Paris streets was just a vague whisper, wafting up with assistance of the wind.

  There was a knock on the door and she turned her head towards the interior of the suite and put her feet to the floor. She once again ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to shake out tangles or strays then she looked through the peep hole in the door. She saw a man in a hotel uniform, red with gold buttons and accents, dusting his shoulder and looking towards the elevator. She tuned the knob and held it open a few inches.

  “Yes, Mrs. Winthrop. This arrived for you.” She felt a slight flutter when he called her by Dean’s name, but she didn’t correct him. She liked the feeling of someone thinking she’s somebody important. The man, who was in his early twenties, extended a square box approximately nine inches wide but very slim. This was the kind of box that usually contained jewelry. Jennifer took the box and thanked the man the best she could with her broken French and closed the door. She lifted the lid of the box to reveal an envelope.

  Jennifer,

  I hope the morning found you looking as beautiful as you were when I left. I couldn’t bear to rouse you, the look on your face was one of sheer peace and serenity and I dare not disturb perfection. I have made arrangements for us tonight, just the two of us, surrounded by the ambiance of all that is Paris. Contained is a little something I want you to wear on our outing. In the bureau, you will find a company credit card. Take it and find something that matches what’s in the box and meet me downstairs at seven. I’ve arranged for my Paris assistant to meet you one hour after you receive this message, she knows where to shop. Don’t keep me waiting, it’s been too long, already.

  D

  Lifting the tissue paper that was laid across the interior of the box, she discovered a diamond tennis bracelet and matching diamond necklace with a large teardrop shaped diamond in the middle. The extravagance of such items was more breathtaking than anything she had held in her own hands in the duration of her life on earth. Jennifer was pretty sure her heart hadn’t beaten in almost a minute, ever since she read Dean’s note and now she was certain she was about to have a stroke. She took the box and hurriedly made her way to the mirror where she took the necklace from its secure cradle inside the comfort of the box. She put it on then took the bracelet out, examining it in the light before s
lapping it on her wrist. She gleamed at her reflection as she pulled her hair up and made kissy faces and sultry faces and shy faces but no matter what face she made in the mirror or what pose she made to accentuate her new jewelry, a smile was plastered on her face.

  She found the card in the drawer where the note said it would be, so she went to the closet to decide what to wear. She decided on a floral print halter-top dress with yellow heels and her hair pulled up to show off her necklace. She would probably not take it off until the day of her funeral and then haunt anyone who attempted to remove it from her cold, dead corpse. Checking her reflection one last time in the mirror, she called down to have Dean’s car brought around to the front and left the room, heading towards the elevator.

  Returning from dinner with Dean, Jennifer rested her head on his shoulder in the back of the limo and he placed his hand on her knee. Her new dress ended right at the top of her knees, showing off her shapely calves, which he found rather appealing. He asked her,

  “So, did you enjoy yourself tonight?” She raised her head to look at him and with a smile, replied,

  “Yes, very much so. Thank you for a wonderful meal. The company wasn’t half bad, either, if I do say so myself.” Kissing him softly, she closed her eyes and savored the softness of his lips. He placed his hand on the side of her face, softly caressing her cheek with his thumb as he delicately returned her affections. Kissing and feeling each other’s bodies, making out like teenagers and lost in their embrace of one another, they didn’t feel the stop of the limousine in front of their hotel and were a bit shocked when the door opened.

  “Monsieur?” The driver held the door open for them as Jennifer giggled and Dean made his way to exit the vehicle, turning and taking her hand once he was on the sidewalk. The bellboy opened the door for them to enter the grand lobby and Dean hurriedly made his way to the elevator, maintaining the poise and demeanor of the classy businessman that he was known to be, but once inside and the doors of the elevator closed, he pushed Jennifer against the wall and kissed her neck wildly as he ran his hand up her inner thigh, teasing her without touching her where she wanted it most. She wrapped her arms around him and raised her leg to his waist, feeling him against her aroused feminine area. The bell for the elevator dinged and she quickly lowered her leg and he stood inches from her, sliding his hand over his hair to assure that it was neat. An elderly couple stood in the hallway, awaiting the elevator and the gentleman asked,