“That’s right. You know it and I know it. And I’m sorry I misled you, because I know you were just looking for a good time and I thought I was too, but that’s not me. All right? I’m done.”
The words are scarcely out of my mouth before Cody pulls his hand away. For one sickening second, I think I’ve won. Until he rolls on top of me, shoves my knees up around my head, and fills me to bursting with one hard stroke.
Even as wet as I am, it’s a shock. But not the bad kind. I cry out as my head goes back against the pillows, my hips surge up to meet him, and my arms go around him.
“You. Are not. A fuck toy.” He punctuates each pause with another thrust, his voice a low growl. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”
“Cody,” I gasp. The heat in his eyes is melting me from the inside out, incinerating my emotional armor, turning my deep freeze into nothing but steam.
Brock’s hand comes between us, going straight to my clit, circling and pressing in. I cry out again, sensation gathering in my core, building and building. “Let it happen, babe,” Cody urges me. One light pinch from Brock, and I shoot so far over the edge I’m almost in another galaxy, my nails scoring his brother’s back as I explode.
Cody rides me through my climax, then as soon as I start to come down, he pulls out and Brock takes his place. “Oh my god,” I moan, sensation already spiraling up inside me again. Brock’s even rougher than Cody, and it feels amazing.
“Look at me,” he orders, and I manage, with effort, to focus on him. “We’re keeping you. Exclusively. You and us, no one else. You understand?”
“Brock,” I whimper. I hear his words through a haze of pleasure and can barely believe them.
“Tell me you understand, Megan.” He’s pounding into me, sending me higher and higher.
“I can’t—” I gasp.
“This is not a fling.” Brock drills into me while Cody’s hand finds my clit, and the orgasm arcs through me like lightning, but Brock doesn’t stop. He fucks me even harder.
“You know,” he grits out, his hips pumping, his cock pistoning in and out of me.
“Know what?” I pant, still coming, my system revving like it’ll never stop.
“The truth, sweetheart.” He wraps my legs around his neck, plunging even deeper inside me. “You’re the only woman we want. What’s happening between us, it means something. It’s real.”
My world shifts beneath me and it has nothing to do with the unbelievable physical pleasure he’s giving me. It feels like pure light has just poured through me. “Brock,” I whisper, overcome.
“You done fighting us?” he says in a deep, low, impossibly sexy voice.
And I am. The last of my resistance disappears like mist in sunlight. I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling his head down until my lips touch his ear. “The truth is … I’m falling in love with you.”
As soon as I say it, he slams into me, pouring himself out inside me. My spasms milk him for every drop, and then he pulls out and his brother’s there, driving deep, his pace just as urgent as Brock’s.
I frame Cody’s face with trembling hands. “Both of you,” I tell him, and it’s all I need to say.
He buries his face in my neck. “Megan,” he groans, and he lets go, filling me up.
When he’s spent himself, he rolls us on our sides, still inside me, and Brock tucks in behind me. We stay that way for a few minutes, and then Brock moves my hair aside and kisses me behind my ear.
“I’m scared,” I tell them as the afterglow fades.
Brock squeezes my hip gently. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Megalicious.”
“We’ll never hurt you,” Cody says as he brushes the back of his finger softly along my cheek.
“You’re special to us.” Brock tilts my face up and kisses me, and it’s hot and sweet and full of promise. “We’re going to show you just how much. Now let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Megan
I’m on my side, Cody filling me from behind, Brock from the front. The twins have already given me a gazillion orgasms, as usual, and now they’re heading for the finish line, pumping in and out of me hard and fast. Brock’s kissing me, his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my breast, while Cody’s fingers work my clit. I moan into Brock’s mouth, the boys slam home inside me, and we all come together, sparks shooting through us like the 4th of July.
“Love you, babe,” Cody says when we can breathe again.
“I know you do,” I say with a tender smile. “I love you too.” Brock kisses me, and we all cuddle together in our favorite position. I have my special times with just one or the other of them, but it always feels the best, the most right, when it’s the three of us.
In the months since they brought me back from the cabin, things have only gotten better. As soon as we could get cleaned up and dressed that night, we left so the brothers could be at practice the next day. They took turns driving, while the brother who wasn’t at the wheel played with me in the back seat. They wanted me with them, so we left Tara’s car to pick up later.
They assured me that they were tested regularly, and hadn’t been with anyone else since I came home, so they were safe going without protection. They also told me they were putting me up in my own apartment, so I wouldn’t have to deal with my dad and wouldn’t feel too pressured to move in with them right away.
The solo apartment didn’t last long — just long enough for them to show they were serious about me. Then they bought a 50-acre spread outside of town, and we all moved there. For public purposes, Brock and I are a couple and Cody lives in the guesthouse on the property. In reality, the three of us live in the big house together.
Tara and Zoe love going on joyrides with me in the Mustang, and they take turns being Cody’s fake girlfriend when I go on public dates with the twins, but often all five of us hang out together.
It’s early, the morning sun slanting through our bedroom. Cody’s hand strokes over my hip. “Better start getting ready,” he says.
We’re meeting my dad and Vivian for lunch. They got married on Valentine’s Day, in the relative peace and quiet after the Super Bowl. I’m so proud of my guys — they both made the All-Star Team, and now they have Super Bowl rings too.
My dad is slowly coming around about us being together. He’s not exactly thrilled with our relationship, and it took a while for me — and especially the twins — to forgive him for how he treated me that day. But he loves me, and the more time he spends around us, the more he can see that my men adore me and are making me happy.
As for Vivian, her sons didn’t lie — she really did go to bat for me with my dad. Let’s just say I’ve discovered a whole new appreciation for orange sherbet. We even have girl time together, with Tara and Zoe too. She treats us all like the daughters she never had, and it’s pretty cool.
Cody gives me a soft, sweet kiss, and we all slowly disengage. He rolls off the bed to head for the bathroom, and when he comes back I say, “I have something to give you two.”
“A present?” Brock says. They perk up like five-year-olds at Christmas, and I have to laugh as I retrieve the small gift bag from where I’d hidden it in our walk-in closet.
“Here you go,” I say, pulling out two miniature football helmets. One says “Daddy Brock,” and the other “Daddy Cody.” The brothers love those nicknames, and they love playing the games that go with them. I’ll just say that I’ve learned to love being naughty sometimes so they have to punish me.
I hand the helmets over and the twins look at them, bemused. “Thanks, babe,” Cody says, clearly trying to be appreciative but not quite getting it.
That’s what I expected; today isn’t really on their radar, growing up with a single mom like they did. So I help them out. “Happy Father’s Day,” I say softly.
Then it hits them. They look from the helmets to me, and their eyes get bright. “Are you saying …” Brock starts.
“You’re going to be daddies for real,”
I confirm. “Right around Super Bowl Sunday next year.”
Their grins split their faces, and then Cody picks me up and swings me around, whooping so loud I’m sure they hear him all the way in town. “Careful,” Brock cuts in, and Cody abruptly puts me down, very gently.
I laugh. “Guys, it’s all right. I’m not fragile.”
“You have to start taking a multivitamin,” Cody says, launching straight into Beast Daddy mode. “And you need to get plenty of rest. And eat healthy foods.”
It’s awfully cute. I’ve had a little time to get used to the idea — I didn’t want to tell them until I was sure. But their excitement makes me misty-eyed. They’ll be such good dads.
Brock is watching me closely. “You’re feeling all right?” he says. “What about morning sickness?”
“So far, so good,” I assure him. “My only concern is that any child of you two is going to be enormous.”
The brothers shoot me their cocky grins, and I roll my eyes. Cody’s gaze goes to the bed and back to me. “So,” he says. “Everything’s, uh, business as usual?”
Even after all this time with them, I blush a little. “Yes, it’s fine. We won’t have to be, you know, careful until closer to my due date.”
“In that case,” Brock says, “we should celebrate.” Two sets of eyes get hot, and the brothers start toward me.
“Guys,” I say, backing away, hands up. “We’re meeting Dad and Vivian, remember? They have a reservation.”
“We’ll just have to hurry, then,” Brock says. “A three-way quickie in the shower.” He pulls me in with an arm around my waist and kisses me. “I love you, babe. Thank you. We’re the luckiest men alive.”
Cody tugs me away from his brother, swings me into his arms and starts for the bathroom. I lay my head on his shoulder, giving thanks that I wrecked my car and shared a cab with them that day. What started as a way to get over my awful ex and have some fun has changed my life.
My hot guys didn’t just give me a good time, they showed me what love really looks like. I should have known — if Beauty couldn’t hold out against just one, I had no chance at all of resisting two sexy, strong, protective, loving Beasts.
They’re almost perfect … but they’re wrong about one thing.
I’m the one who’s lucky.
Afterword
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed following Megan and the twins’ journey as much as I enjoyed writing it.
On the following pages, you’ll find a bonus novella. Perfect: A Stepbrother Romance is the story of Kate and Billy, and offers more delicious naughtiness for your reading pleasure. Here’s a brief description to whet your appetite:
The first time I met Billy Taylor, we came thisclose to having sex in the parking lot of a bar.
I was upset, okay? I’d just dumped my lying, cheating boyfriend.
I had my perfect life with him all planned out, and then he ruined it when he put his hands on another woman.
Billy isn’t like him, or any other man I’ve known … but I can’t let myself think about Billy.
Or his amazing, sculpted, gorgeous Greek-god body.
No. I can’t.
And I absolutely, positively mustn’t fantasize about finishing what we started.
We could never work. Ever.
I’m all about the city.
He’s country down to the bone.
And if that’s not enough … he’s also my soon-to-be stepbrother.
So I can’t think about the way he keeps teasing me, flirting with me, driving me crazy.
Or remember the way his body felt against mine in that parking lot, all heat and hard muscle.
And the times he’s been nice when I really needed it.
I have a plan for my life, dammit.
And Billy Taylor is not part of it.
If I keep telling myself that, maybe I’ll even believe it.
Perfect: A Stepbrother Romance
Perfect: A Stepbrother Romance
Copyright © 2016 by 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 represented as 18 or over.
Kindle Edition
Chapter 1
I pay the cab fare and step out onto the curb, where I straighten my skirt and open the top two buttons of my lucky blouse, converting its pale blue silk from office wear to evening wear.
The trendy pub is already crowded on a Friday afternoon. Once inside, I scan the clusters of young professionals, all eager to get their weekend started. Even though it’s early, I can see that many of them are on the prowl, looking for someone to spend their evening with. They’re surveying the crowd with hungry or hopeful looks in their eyes. I’m grateful that I’m no longer looking to meet someone; I’m just here to surprise Clay, my kind, romantic, perfect boyfriend, who I hope may soon become even more to me.
I catch sight of him in a dimly lit back corner. As usual, his suit is perfect, his smile is perfect, and he’s winding down from his perfect job, but today he’s doing that with his hand tangled in another woman’s perfect, long, silky black hair!
And though he’s in partial profile from my view, I can see him giving her his heavy-lidded sexy smile. The one I thought he only gave to me. Frozen in place, I watch for a moment as the woman tilts her head to the side and he runs his hand down her bare arm.
I was hoping to surprise him. We were supposed to go to dinner an hour from now, but I got off work early and knew he’d be here with his coworkers. I thought tonight would be a special night. When he’d invited me to dinner, there’d been something different in his voice. Something in his tone made me think he might be ready to take our relationship to the next level. I thought he might suggest that we move in together, or, even though it would be rushing things, maybe there was a small possibility he’d be proposing to me. That’s why I was wearing my lucky blouse.
I march over to my perfect asshole of a boyfriend, planning to confront him and whoever that woman is. I want to see the look on his guilty, lying face when I catch him in the act, but there’s a pain in my chest and a lump rising in my throat. I can feel my face burning suddenly, and there’s a really good chance that I’ll be in tears by the time I reach him. I thought he was the one for me, and here he is touching another woman!
I blink my stinging eyes. There’s no way I want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I can’t face him, but as I turn to leave the pub, I’m hoping he’ll feel some hurt later this evening. Let him wonder where I am when I don’t show up for our dinner date. Let him feel embarrassed when he’s stood up. I hope the fancy restaurant will charge him for our missed reservation. None of it will add up to much in the way of revenge, but it’s all I can manage right now.
I signal for another cab and am grateful when one pulls up right away. I guess my special blouse still has one bit of luck left to offer, even though it’s failed me miserably today.
I’d been wearing this same blouse ten months ago when I first met Clay, and I was wearing it when I landed my job at the art museum. As the museum’s assistant events coordinator, I plan and attend a lot of elegant parties. Most of the time, I’m scurrying around attending to details, but there is usually at least one point during any evening when I can mingle among the guests. I plan to work my way up the ladder, either at the museum or at another organization, so I try to meet as many important people as I can, without overstepping my boundaries.
It was at a fundraising cocktail party sponsored by the largest legal firm in the city, where I felt the intense gaze of a lean man with thick hair so
dark brown it was nearly black. I noticed him, and the fact that he was keeping mostly to himself, not mingling with his associates. I smiled at him, and a moment later he was at my side, introducing himself.
I had made it a point to look my best that day, knowing that the after-hours event would likely be filled with attractive, ambitious bachelors. My blonde hair was pulled back in a smooth updo, my makeup was flawless, and my lucky blouse did its trick.
Clay Timms is a corporate attorney, and we’ve been dating since that night. Had been dating, I mean. That’s all over now.
I’m going to ball up this stupid blouse and stuff it into the trash as soon as I get to my apartment.
Chapter 2
I’d been planning to drive to the country tomorrow morning, to George Taylor’s house. George is my mom’s boyfriend, though it sounds strange to refer to a fifty-year-old man as someone’s boyfriend. My mom was getting serious with him, and had been spending a lot of time at his home. They had invited me to stay for the weekend.
The last thing I want to do tonight is sit at home alone, kicking myself for being such an idiot and for having such bad judgment about Clay. So I make my voice as normal as I can, and give my mom a call to see if it’s okay if I arrive at George’s tonight instead. She sounds excited that I’ll be coming early, and I’m grateful to have somewhere to go that will take me far away from here.
I shove my things into an overnight bag, packing more quickly than I ever have before. Anger has some benefits in the way of efficiency.
I lock up, and in no time, I’m in my car, driving out of the lot. I don’t drive often; it’s not practical during the week in the city, but it feels good to be on the road now, putting Clay behind me as fast as I legally can.
Just past the city limits, about five minutes after the time I was supposed to have been meeting the asshole, my phone chirps with a text. I confirm the message is from Clay with a quick glance, but I don’t bother to read his words. I switch the phone to silent, and when it vibrates five minutes later, I turn the radio up so I won’t hear it.
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