BODYGUARD BROTHERS: A TWIN STEPBROTHER MENAGE ROMANCE

by Samantha Twinn

  “No. I think you pretty much covered it.” She stands up. “Thank you. For being here and for doing this for me. I’m sorry I didn’t take your advice and hire you first.” She leans over me and I can feel the heat from her shower-damp skin, smell the soft scent of her shampoo. When she kisses me goodnight just on the corner of my lips, I catch a hint of mint. I hold my breath to keep the scent of her from disappearing. She leans over and kisses Kieren and I see him take a deep breath of her, too.

  “Goodnight.” She returns to her room and a few seconds later her light flickers out.

  I turn to Kieren. “So…”

  “Couch,” he says to me.

  Tonight is not the night we’re going to be discussing our feelings for Victoria. I sigh. “Fine, I’ll take the chair.”

  As I drift off, I listen to the soft sound of Victoria’s breathing through her open door. As I twist around in the chair trying to get comfortable I find myself wishing I was wrapping myself around her body instead.

  6

  KIEREN

  Victoria is going to kill us.

  We’ve been stuck to her like glue for the past three days and I can see it starting to wear at her edges already. She’s always been a go-where-she- wants, do-what-she-wants kind of person and these restrictions are chafing on her. It’s for the best. We try to tell her that it’s for her own safety. Remember Dennis. This is the only thing that stops her from chomping at the bit for a few hours.

  We’ve arranged her schedule so that most of her meetings take place at her house. Her trainer, a spunky woman in bright spandex with sinewy arms, was here this morning and Victoria seemed a little more chilled after her workout but she’s starting to get antsy again. She’s wandering from room to room, rearranging pictures and knickknacks. She almost bit my head off when I asked if she wanted to order out for lunch.

  Antony is on another job right now. We’ve got a few small event contracts and have been trading shifts so that other jobs are covered and we can both get some sleep. Victoria is at the window now, staring out at the bright blue sky dotted with cotton ball clouds. It’s balmy and breezy and the perfect day to be outside enjoying the weather. Maybe at the beach or hike up in the hills. Or going for a drive.

  “Hey, Vickie.”

  “What?” She snaps at me without turning around.

  “How would you like to get out of here?”

  She spins around, suspicion on her face. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” I give her my best lopsided grin.

  “Oh, god, yes!” She flies at me and flings her arms around me. “Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times, yes.”

  I laugh at her exuberance. “You want to take a drive?”

  “Absolutely! Wait, I’ll be right back.” She skips toward her bedroom, humming on the way.

  “I’ll bring the car to the front and meet you outside,” I say before she shuts the door.

  I head through the kitchen and out the back door to the detached garage behind her bungalow. Her little Mini is parked in one bay and the security company’s behemoth SUV is parked alongside the edge of the garage. Parked in front of that is my mirror-shined Jaguar F-Type SVR. It’s sleek and purrs just like you imagine it would. The SUV be damned. This is what we’re taking out today.

  I slide into the low seat and start the engine, listening to its deep growl as I shift into reverse and back around the SUV. I can’t help but chirp the tires a little as I swing around the house and pull up in front of the door. There's just something about being behind the wheel of a car that makes me foolish. I throw it into park and jump out, rounding the car just as Victoria walks out the front door. God, she's gorgeous. I give her the once over and grin. She’s changed into a red halter dress with white dots all over it. She’s got a scarf looped around her hair Marilyn Monroe style and a pair of big white sunglasses covering her baby blues. She’s classic Hollywood in this get-up and I think that I’ve never seen anything as adorable as she is right now. I pull open the passenger door and bow low. “Your carriage, Lady Victoria.”

  She giggles and slides into the seat, arranging her skirt neatly over her knees. Seconds later, I’m in the driver’s seat. She’s grinning over at me. I’m shocked at how happy something as simple as an afternoon drive is making her. I like to see her smile. But first, “seatbelt”, I say to her. She pulls it over her shoulder and clicks it into place. Then we’re off.

  We head out of L.A. towards Malibu and when we get off on the Pacific Coast Highway we roll the windows down and let the ocean air blow through the car and tickle our noses with the scent of sea mist. Victoria sticks her arm out of the window and lets her hand ride the air currents. Cliffs zip past us on one side and the ocean sparkles on the other. Victoria’s smile is easy and her face is relaxed. This is my Victoria.

  I spot a stand on the side of the road and pull, telling her to stay put. I run over and buy her a berry flavored shave ice before heading back down the coast. She’s slurping at the sticky sweet treat and when she sticks her tongue out at me it’s stained a purply-red. I spy a familiar turn-off up ahead and take the corner quickly, making the car slide on the turn and Victoria squeal and then she’s laughing. I pull up to the edge of a cliff, the ocean ninety feet below us, churning and foamy as it crashes against the rocks. The roar and rumble of the waves reach us even up here.

  Victoria has kicked off her shoes and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Thank you,” she says “for getting me out of the house for a while. I was starting to go nuts.”

  “I know. It won’t be much longer. As soon as we find out Dennis’s last name we’ll file a restraining order…”

  “Ugh,” she stops me “let’s not talk about that right now.”

  “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

  She turns in her seat, a smile playing around her purpled lips. “Do you know what this reminds me of? When Dad bought you your first Jag.”

  I laugh at the memory. Michael is the reason I’m stuck on Jag’s now. He unleashed a monster when he got me my first.

  “Oh man, I thought Dad was going to kill you for taking me out in it!” She’s giggling. “He was so mad. What did he call you?”

  “Irresponsible?”

  “No, I think it was more like ‘boney-assed punk.”

  “Ha. Yeah, your dad had way with the words.”

  “He had a point. We took off without telling anyone. You’d just got that car and your driver’s license. Had you even driven on the freeway yet?”

  “Are you insane! You could have been killed,” I imitate Michael’s low, husky voice and make Victoria laugh.

  “Hey, that’s pretty good. You sounded just like him.”

  “Antony and I used to practice all the time. Antony can’t do your dad’s voice for shit but he sounds just like Mom.”

  She dissolves into a fit of giggles that leaves her eyes streaming tears and has her hiccupping into her hand. “Oh, thanks. I needed that,” she says, wiping at her eyes.

  “Anytime. Hey, look.” I grab her hand and gesture out the window. The sun is sinking below the horizon and spreading gold and pink rays across the shimmering ocean. I hear Victoria catch her breath as sparks bounce off the tips of the waves and the sun drops even lower, melting copper and deep orange across the sky. Finally, there’s one quick flash of neon green where the ocean meets the sky and the darkness falls. Stars begin to twinkle across the purple night and the wind off the water turns to chill.

  “Wow,” she whispers.

  “Yeah, wow,” I say in a low voice. But I’m not looking at the ocean. I’m watching her hair in the glow of the newly risen moon, freed from her scarf, as it blows in curls around the curve of her cheek and the smooth line of her shoulder dusted with light cinnamon freckles. I want to lick them and see if she tastes like cookies.

  When I look up, she’s watching me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her eyes are turning a deep blue.

  “Victoria…”

 
“What time is it?” she interrupts. “Maybe we should call Antony.”

  I fumble for my phone to hide the disappointment in my face.

  I’d turned off my phone to give us a break and when it flashes on I see twenty missed texts and five missed calls. “Ah, shit,” I mutter.

  “What is it?” Victoria asks. I tilt the phone towards her. “Uh oh. Wonder if we’re grounded.”

  “Yeah. Ha. Ha. Antony. Hey. Nope, we’re fine. Just out for a drive.” Antony is yelling in my ear about me being an irresponsible fuck-up. “Uh huh. Uh huh.” Victoria is looking at me with alarm so I grimace and poke my tongue out. Antony keeps up his tirade as I entertain Victoria by silently mocking his fury. She smacks her hands over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay. We’re on our way back right now.” I punch the phone off and drop it into the console. “He’s pissed,” I say.

  “You don’t say.”

  “We’d better head back to your place before he sends out the National Guard.”

  A deep, disappointed sigh escapes Victoria.

  “What is it? Something wrong?” I ask.

  “Um…” her answer trails off and she turns her head, staring out at the starlit sky.

  Instead of pushing her, I start the car and shift it into gear, reversing us out of the hidden turn-off and back onto the highway.

  The ride back is quiet. Victoria is curled in the passenger seat, her legs tucked under her skirt, her scarf wrapped around her shoulders now. The windows are up, there’s no warm breeze ruffling our hair, no smell of sea air. Victoria is silent, not bopping along to the radio.

  I’m quiet too, wrapped in my own thoughts. I felt something shift between us while we watching the sun set. I could have kissed her then. I wanted to kiss her then. There’s been plenty of women in my life but none make me feel like Victoria. She’s funny and she’s smart and she makes me feel alive and I have fun with her. And she’s my step-sister. I don’t think that matters to me, though. We were all almost grown by the time our parents married.

  I’ve always felt a little protective of Victoria and always figured it was just a brotherly type of affection but these past few days have been dredging up a different type of feeling. Knowing she’d been attacked at the restaurant had sent a blind fury racing through my skull. I’d have killed that guy if he’d still been around when we got there. Being around her for these few days, living in her home with her, is pulling up entirely different types of feelings. She’s unconscious of her sexiness and that makes her so much more irresistible. When her smooth tanned legs disappeared beneath a floaty skirt it makes me want to run my hands up and find out if she’s wearing anything underneath. I wanted to bite the back of her neck when she had her hair pulled up. And when she wandered out of her room in a string bikini one day, I wanted to pull at the little bows resting on her hipbones, bend her over the kitchen table, wrap her chocolate colored curls around my hand, and bury my cock deep inside her body. Nothing brotherly about any of those feelings.

  “Kieren. Kieren.”

  Victoria’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. She’s giving me an odd look and I wonder if she can read the thoughts on my face.

  “We’re home,” she says.

  And we are. Parked in front of her bungalow with Antony barreling down the steps toward us. God, I don’t even remember most of the drive home I was so lost in thoughts of Victoria. When Antony jerks open the door and pulls Victoria out I take a second to take a few quick breaths and remind myself that thoughts are all they can be. And that I’m going to have to keep a tight leash on myself to make sure I don’t try act on those thoughts. Then, I push up out of the car to rescue Victoria and face Antony’s anger.

  7

  VICTORIA

  It’s been nearly two weeks since the attack at the restaurant and since I gave in and hired the twins to be my bodyguards. After a few tense days, we’ve settled into a relaxing routine and grown comfortable living together again. The new fence is up, solid steel and heavy-duty, with a brand-new hedge planted around it to offer additional privacy from prying eyes. I feel much better about lounging around my pool and eating on my patio now. A new electronic gate has been installed with a camera that sends pictures and videos to our phones. We’re all relaxed and laid back. Even Antony.

  There hasn’t been any sign of Dennis, either. I’ve had several appearances over the past week and the guys do a sweep beforehand and keep sharp eyes out as they escort me from the building to the car, and so far there’s been no sight of him or any other crazies. I’m starting to think that Dennis has just lost interest and that maybe I don’t need bodyguards at all.

  I’d never tell the twins that, though. I really do like having them around, and it’s not just that I feel safe with them with me. I feel…whole. Normal. Like this is the life we’re supposed to be living. The three of us, together and happy.

  I peer out the kitchen window to my rear patio. The boys are outside heating up the grill. Well, Antony is heating up the grill. Kieren is propped on a lounge chair, feet and chest bare to the Southern California sun dappling through the pergola covering the patio, nursing a beer and popping pistachio nuts into his mouth. I’m chopping the mound of vegetables I sent Kieren to the farmers’ market for this morning. I’m making what I call a kitchen sink salad to accompany the chicken breasts marinating in the fridge. It’s just every fresh vegetable I can grab sliced, diced, and tossed into a bowl with vinegar, oil, and herbs. Later, as the sun sets, the three of us will eat by the pool, candlelight flickering across the table and frangipani flowers scenting the air. We’ll share a bottle of wine and laugh and talk until the bottle is empty and the stars come out. I know this because it's what we've been doing pretty much every night that I haven't had an engagement to attend.

  I haven’t been this happy in years.

  A buzzing on my butt makes me jump. My phone. I wipe my hands on a dish towel and fish it out of the back pocket of my cut-off denim shorts. I grimace at the name on the display; Samson, my manager. I stab at the screen with my finger and manage to keep my voice from sounding too annoyed when I answer.

  “Hi, Samson. What’s up?”

  “Victoria, honey! How’s my favorite client?” His voice is schmoozy and saccharine.

  I roll my eyes, glad he can’t see me right now. “I’m fine. Everything’s quiet here.”

  “Good good good. Listen. I’ve got a few great things lined up for you this week.”

  “Samson, no. We talked about this. I need some time off. I’m exhausted by the schedule you’ve had me on.”

  “Honey, honey, come on. It’s just a couple of interviews. You’re young, you should be full of energy. Look at me, I was with your dad for years and I’m still going strong.”

  I get the feeling Samson’s energy comes from a cocktail of coffee and cocaine but I don’t say that to him. Instead, I try to keep my exasperated sigh quiet. “Can I do them over the phone?”

  “Nope, nope. These need to be taped.”

  “Fine, I can handle just a couple of interviews.”

  “And a guest spot on a primetime entertainment news show,” he says quickly.

  “Samson!”

  “And some paperwork that needs to be completed.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear and study the light green ceiling of my kitchen for a moment. I take a deep breath to make sure I won’t scream at my manager before we continue our conversation.

  Fine. I’ll do the interviews and the guest spot, which I can’t believe you booked by the way. You know I hate live TV. And then I want at least two weeks off.”

  “And the paperwork…”

  “You handle it. I trust you.”

  “Okay, not a problem doll. I’ll have all the info emailed to you. When are you going to get an assistant by the way?”

  “I don’t need an assistant, Samson.”

  “Oh, you will, honey. Ol’ Samson has plans for you.”

  I’m starting to think tha
t getting into the acting business was a bad idea, but I trust Samson because he was my dad’s manager for years and I know he won’t steer me wrong. He just wants what’s best for my career.

  “Okay,” I say wearily, “I’ll think about looking for an assistant at some point.” I lean against the counter and poke at the tiled floor with a coral manicured toe. I’m quickly losing my appetite. I just want to act. I don’t want to be famous. I never have. It’s why I kept such a low profile growing up. My dad respected my decision to be low-key. I just wish that Samson would too.

  “Okay, honey, good. I’ll talk to you later.” He disconnects before he finishes his sentence and I picture him gulping down a cup of black coffee and speed talking instructions at his secretary.

  “Everything okay in here?” Kieren is standing at the French doors that lead to the patio, swim trunks slung low across his hips, the muscles of his stomach taut and tanned. I’d like to run my tongue down the corded muscles that start at his ribs and disappear into the silky material of his shorts.

  I shake the thought away. “Uh, yeah, everything’s fine. Just Samson.” I wiggle my phone at him before placing it on the countertop.

  “We’re going to toss the meat on the grill soon. You coming out? How about a drink? Or a swim?” He pushes his floppy hair off his forehead and gives me one of his sexy half-grins.

  “Actually, I think I’m going to take a bath. I had a session with the trainer this morning and feel a little icky.”

  “All right. Go relax. You deserve it. We’ll take care of dinner.” He steps up into the kitchen and grabs a large bowl from the cabinet and starts shoveling the chopped vegetables into it. I watch the muscles play across his back and wonder how’d they feel bunching under my hands as he rests his weight on top of me.