FOSTER BROTHERS - A MFM Menage Romance

by Samantha Twinn

  I have no idea where anything is, so I start opening cabinets, pulling out a bowl and spoon, pleased when the doors close with a softened thump. Quiet-close cabinets. Nice touch. A door on the far side turns out to be a walk-in pantry. There is so much food stacked on the shelves that it looks like a grocery store. I laugh quietly when I spy several boxes of Captain Crunch. It was our favorite cereal growing up. I grab a box, stopping to add milk to the growing pile of stuff in my arms and head back the counter, now hungrier than I realized.

  I’m concentrating on keeping everything neat when I hear a small cough from behind me. I drop the box with shock and whirl. Little yellow nuggets of cereal rattle across the counter and scatter across the floor. Hudson is standing just inside a door I didn’t notice earlier. I do notice that he’s only wearing a pair of low-slung basketball shorts and I’m staring. I can’t help it. He’s so beautiful, it hurts. His shoulders are wide, his torso is a perfect V. He’s muscled but not bulky; strong and sleek looking. I can’t help recalling what it’s like to have that chiseled stomach pressed into mine, to have those thickly muscled legs pushing mine apart, and suddenly I can’t breathe. I sweep my eyes up and down his body, lingering on the trail of hair that disappears into the band of his shorts. I’m abruptly aware that I’m not wearing anything but a t-shirt that barely covers the tops of my thighs. I see his eyes darken as he watches me, see the fire jump down his body and his stomach flutter as he takes me in. Then, in the space of a second, the look is gone. He folds his arms across his chest.

  “What happened tonight at the fight, Missi? What made you want to leave so quickly?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Nothing. Just didn’t feel right. It happens sometimes. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “You’re in my house but you think your safety is something I shouldn’t worry about?”

  “I don’t want anyone to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I’ll be gone tomorrow. The last thing I want to be is a burden.”

  His face flushes a bright red at my words. I see his jaw tighten and his hands clench into fists. I take a step back, out of his range of anger. I learned a long time ago that the best place to be when a man clenches his fists is out of range. I step to the side, putting the island counter between us.

  “You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere,” he grinds out, “Not while you’re in danger or think you’re in danger or are scared of whatever it is you’re scared of. You’ll stay here where it’s safe. As long as it takes. Between me, Flint, and Red, there’s always someone around who can keep an eye on you.”

  His delivery is harsh but his words make me ashamed of the fact that I was scared of him.

  “Really, it’s okay, I’ll go.”

  “You’ll fucking stay!”

  Is he serious with this bullshit right now? Does he think he can tell me what to do? I slam my hands onto the counter with a sharp thump. “Who in the hell do you think you are?” I yell. “What makes you think you can tell me what to do? I can take care of myself.”

  He takes a step towards me, hands up. “Missi…”

  “No, no, no,” I say, shaking my head. “You don’t get to tell me what to do because we used to know each other once upon a time. You don’t get to tell me what to do because we fucked once and you feel guilty about it. Using my body doesn’t mean you own it. I make my own decisions and I’m never gonna let anyone tell me what to do again.” I know I sound hysterical. My voice is shrill but I don’t have the control in me to mask my feelings. Everything is coming out, right here, right now. “That will never happen again, Hudson, do you hear me? I make my own rules. No one tells me what to do. No one!”

  I’m breathing hard, my heart thumping against my ribs. Hudson is stock still, staring at me, his face drained of color. It’s too much, I’ve said too much. I can tell that I’ve shocked him, maybe even disgusted him. He must think I’m insane or maybe just a raving bitch. I certainly haven’t given him any reason to think I’m anything other than some girl with a drama-filled life. The best thing I can do is leave. First the room and then his life. My shoulders slump.

  “I’m going. I don’t want us to fight, I don’t want to ruin your life or mess anything up. Let’s just forget this happened. Let’s remember how we used to be when we were kids. I’m going to leave soon and those are the memories I want you to have of me, not the me I am now but the happy girl you used to know.”

  I bite back my tears and turn to leave. When I push past him he grabs my arm and pulls me to him. I can feel the tension humming through his muscles and pulsing between us. My arm tingles where his hand is wrapped around it. I’m terrified to look at him because I know all I’ll see is anger and hurt, but when I finally look up at him all I see in his eyes is longing. I think that scares me more than the anger would have.

  “Please,” he murmurs so quietly I’m not sure he actually spoke. “Please, don’t go.”

  I nod once, pressing my lips together to keep the tears from coming. I pull away gently, his fingers lingering just a moment on my skin before letting me go.

  And eventually, when I’ve made it up the stairs, still feeling hungry but now emotionally empty too, I can still feel the electric tingling where his hand rested on my skin.

  30

  FLINT

  I’m standing in front of my bathroom mirror rubbing arnica cream over the bruises that stipple my ribs when I hear Hudson clear his throat behind me. “You need something?” I’m still a little angry with him after the way he ran off, and I let him hear it in my voice. I go back to smoothing cream over my sore muscles. When he doesn’t say anything I glance up into the mirror and catch sight of his face, blanched of color and covered in worry lines. “Missi wants to leave,” he says.

  I drop the tube of cream and spin on him, “What did you say to her?”

  “Me? Nothing, I didn’t say anything. Actually, I asked her not to go and she agreed to stay. I think.”

  “You think…”

  “Listen, Flint, you need to talk to her. You’re better at this. Find out what’s going on with her. She nearly leveled me in the kitchen tonight. Accused me of thinking I own her because we fucked once. Never thought a girl that small could be that angry…or scared. And she’s really scared. You gotta find out what’s going on. Find out how we can help her.”

  Hudson rubs a spot over his eyebrow and leans into the door frame. I push past him and walk to my bed, picking up the shirt tossed over the end, sliding it over my shoulders. Hudson is still standing in the door when I turn back around. “She’s probably not going to tell me anything either. I was there at the fight and she didn’t want to say anything to me.”

  “I need you to try.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll try. She keeps everything pretty close, though.”

  “She’s let a few things slip. She tried to get away from me in the kitchen. I know I sounded angry, but I’m really just worried. She looked like she was ready to bolt if I so much as stepped near her.” Hudson moves over to my bed and sits on the edge, legs splayed, his elbows resting on his knees.

  I raise my eyebrow at him. “Something else going on?”

  “Yeah…” he starts and flushes.

  I swear he looks almost embarrassed and that is so not like my big brother. “Fuck’s sake, man. What have you done now? Spit it out.”

  Hudson clears his throat, “Well, I met this girl…”

  “Another one? When the hell did you get the time? We’re running out of rooms, Hudson.”

  He snorts. “No, it’s not like that. I’ve never met her in real life. We started talking online in a chatroom.”

  I think my eyebrows just about hit my hairline. I smirk at him because he’s started to turn red. The Hudson from a couple of years ago wouldn’t have touched a computer for dating. He had girls waiting for him outside the locker room every day. Then my smirk feels uncomfortable. There’s a reason my big brother has changed and I feel shitty that he’s embarrassed. “So you swiped right?”


  He shoots me an annoyed glance. “Something like that. She’s a…she’s really special to me. She’s been someone to talk to when I really needed it.”

  And now I feel even worse that he needed to go to a stranger to talk when I’ve been here the whole time. “How long have you known her?”

  “From just after I stopped playing. She’s in some kind of trouble. I don’t know what, but if I can find out I want to do something to help her.”

  “Are we running a home for wayward girls here?”

  “Like it wasn’t you begging me to bring Missi here?”

  “Missi’s our sister, for fuck sake.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. I guess because he has nothing to say about that anymore. Then he slumps forward. “I really care about this girl, Flint. I know it sounds fucked up. I know this isn’t me to find strangers on the internet, but this girl…”

  For a moment I stare at my brother as he gazes at the floor. He looks defeated, or maybe that’s the wrong word. He looks like he has the weight of the world on his broad shoulders, except those shoulders are already carrying the terrible weight of his own issues. He doesn’t need anyone else to burden him. Not now.

  But I understand what’s happening here. He wouldn’t be bringing me this if he didn’t need my help and he wouldn’t be asking for my help unless this girl was really special to him. “Are you in love with her?” I ask quietly.

  He swallows thickly and looks up at me. For a moment I feel like I’m looking at my brother from ten years ago. He nods once and that says it all. Then he pushes off the bed and heads for the door. “It’s pretty damn pointless, loving her, I mean. I know that nothing can ever come of it, but I want her safe. All I have left to offer is money and one thing money can buy is safety. So do it. Buy safety. For Raven, the girl from the chatroom, and for Missi. Whatever it takes.”

  I nod at him and watch him walk away, listening for the thump of his bedroom door closing. I head to Missi’s room and knock lightly on the door. When she doesn’t answer, I push the door open slowly and look around.

  It’s dark. The lamps have been turned off and the balcony doors are shut. I fumble for the wall switch. In the light I can see for sure that she’s not here. I scan the room and all her things are gone; phone and laptop, no shoes next to the bed. Striding over to the closet I throw open the door. The few things she had hanging on the rack are gone. Her ratty backpack is missing, too. Damn. She left.

  I leave her room at a run and bound down the stairs, hurtling out the front door just barely stopping myself before I barrel into Missi. She’s standing on the bottom step, tapping at her phone, her backpack slung over one slim shoulder.

  “Missi.”

  She spins. “Oh, it’s you. I thought it might be Hudson.”

  “You disappointed?”

  She just turns back around. There’s my answer, I guess.

  “You don’t have to go.”

  She starts down the steps as though putting some distance between us is going to strengthen her resolve. “I can’t stay here, Flint.”

  My instinct is to ask her why but that’s ridiculous. I know how awkward it must be for her. I understand that Hudson is like a big angry bear sometimes, and that it’s easy to get the wrong impression from him if you don’t know that underneath all the gruff is a heart of gold. In the end I decide to just be straight with her. “Don’t go tonight, Missi. It’s dark and you don’t have anywhere safer to go. Please just come back inside. Make a plan at least.”

  She shrugs as though everything I said has washed over her, then turns back to the road, searching the night. Has she called a cab already? Stepping down, I take a risk. If there’s one thing I’ve picked up about Missi this past day or so is that you never really know how she’s going to react. When I put my arm around her and tug her to me, I brace myself for her resistance. When I follow through, pulling her into my arms, I’m expecting her to push me away. Instead, she fits her cheek into the hollow of my chest and sighs.

  “Come back inside. Let’s talk,” I say quietly.

  I’m still not really expecting her to say yes. This could just be her way of saying goodbye. When she nods, and starts back up the steps I feel so relieved. She looks anything but. Her feet are heavy on the stone like she’s holding the world on her shoulders. She and Hudson look like two peas from the same pod. Behind us, the driveway is illuminated and tires crunch their way to the front of the house. A yellow taxi waits for a passenger who has now changed her mind. Missi turns, looking torn now that her means of escape is so close. I’m not going to lose her so I motion for her to go inside and jog down the steps to tip the driver for his trouble.

  When I’m done I join Missi in the foyer. “Let’s go into the den,” I say, closing the door firmly behind me and start to lead the way down the hall. I slip her backpack off and drop it near the door, settling her onto the soft sofa before continuing to the bar cart. “Need a drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  I nod and pour myself of double of twenty-year-old single malt into a cut glass tumbler, taking a hefty swig before I settle onto the sofa near her.

  “So, want to tell me where you were going?” I ask.

  I take another sip of my whiskey, letting it burn down my throat as I watch Missi try to come up with an answer she thinks won’t piss me off or reveal anything real. I’ve noticed how different she is with me and Hudson. He pisses her off, his protective instincts coming across as overbearing. Right now she trusts me more, is more willing to open up to me because I don’t push her the way he does. I reach over and grab her ankle, pulling her closer to me. She only resists for a second before giving in and sliding up, tucking her legs underneath and leaning into my arm. I wait for her to talk first.

  “I don’t want Hudson thinking he has the right to tell me what to do,” she starts. “I’ve been on my own for years. If that’s the way he thinks it going to be, if that’s the kind of man he’s turned into, then I’m not staying. I had enough of that in foster care after you guys moved on.”

  “It’s not like that,” I say, “Hudson doesn’t think like that, trust me. He’s one of the most generous people I’ve ever known. You want something, just ask and he’ll find a way to give it to you, but he’s protective and he doesn’t mess around. It’s what drove him to fight for you when you were little. It’s why he spent so much time protecting us when we were kids. He doesn’t realize he’s coming across as harsh when he does it. Or maybe he doesn’t care because he sees the bigger picture. I guess it’s part of what made him a great ball player. He loves hard and doesn’t know how to do it any other way.”

  Missi snorts. “He doesn’t love me—he can barely look at me. I disgust him. He thinks I’m dirty. A nasty whore who went searching for a random hook-up at a club, and then wound up sleeping with her own brother. I don’t blame him, Flint. I know how it looks.”

  I go to squeeze her against me again. Her voice is tight like she might cry. “He doesn’t think that, sweetie. You’ve got it all wrong.”

  She pulls away and shuffles off the couch and over to her backpack. I’m put my hands at my sides, ready to run after her, thinking that she’s about to try and take off again, but then she turns and comes back, holding a folder. She flips through and finally holds out a picture. I can see the edges are worn soft from being handled so much. I take it from her, turn it over and see that it’s a duplicate of the one Hudson has upstairs. It’s the picture a journalist took after Hudson found Missi. In it, Hudson is staring down at baby Missi, their eyes are locked and you can see even then how wrapped up they were in each other.

  “That’s how he used to look at me, Flint, when I was little. I was sure of his love then. But it won’t ever be like that again.” I look up at where she’s still standing above me. Big tears slide in silver trails down her face but she’s completely silent.

  God, she’s beautiful.

  I reach out and put my hands on her hips, tugging her to me, wrapping my arms around
her tiny frame and burying my face into her stomach. “I’m so sorry you feel that way but you’re wrong. We both love you, baby. Always have, always will.”

  She crumples then, dropping to her knees, pushing into me and squeezing my legs hard before dropping her head into my lap. I hear one small hitching hiccup from her. She stays where she is, folded over onto my lap, as I thread my hands through her short, silky hair. My jeans start to soak where her tears bleed into the fabric, but I let her stay, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing nonsense to her. Her hot breath pours over my arms and I feel the small hairs stand up, a shiver moving over me. She shifts her head and the small movement brushes my cock. Lust shoots through my body, that part of my body waking up because she’s so close. I twist slightly so she doesn’t feel it stirring under her. She’s so beautiful, so desirable in her vulnerable state, but I won’t be the guy that takes advantage of that.

  “Come on,” I say. I pick her up and carry her upstairs, nudging open the door to her room with my foot. I sit her on the edge of her bed and put my fingers under her chin, urging her face up to look at me. “You’re still our Missi, okay.” Her deep-sea eyes are still swimming with tears but she’s refusing to let them fall, blinking them back until they collect on her eyelashes, darkening them and outlining her pretty eyes even more. I swipe at her cheeks then reach over to pull back the blankets on her bed. “Climb in.”

  She scoots up and tugs the covers up.

  “Are you going to be okay in here?” I ask.

  She nods and drops down into the froth of pillows. I can see her struggling to keep her eyes open. “I’m going to leave the door open a little” I say, turning off the lights. I hear her mumble something as I make my way out, pulling the door shut halfway and leaving a crack of light slicing across the bottom of her bed. I make my way to my own room and collapse face first into my pillows, not bothering to take off my shoes. A few minutes pass before I feel the slightest dip on the far side of the bed and it pushes the grogginess aside. Leaning up I see Missi’s tiny form outlined in the light from the hallway. She’s wearing nothing but a t-shirt that ends halfway up her thighs, one knee propped on the edge of my bed. I sigh and pull back the blankets, inviting her in. As she slides in, I silently groan and toe off my shoes before wriggling out of my jeans and shucking my shirt, leaving me in just a pair of boxer-briefs. I feel her scooting towards me and I stay still, letting her do it her way.