Double Trouble: A Billionaire Twin Stepbrothers Forbidden Romance
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Facing Facts
Chapter Two: Childhood Crushes
Chapter Three: Youngest Heartbreak
Chapter Four: Networking
Chapter Five: Gin & Tonic
Chapter Six: Flashback
Chapter Seven: First Kiss
Chapter Eight: Suit and Tie
Chapter Nine: The Three of Us
Chapter Ten: Finding Love
Chapter Eleven: The Hotel Room
Chapter Twelve: The Future
Chapter Thirteen: Family
Double Trouble: A Billionaire Twin Stepbrothers Forbidden Romance
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© 2015 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
Adapted from the original: Doubling Down: A Billionaire Stepbrother Romance
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Sexy Sneak Peek
Chapter One: Facing Facts
Chapter Two: Childhood Crushes
Chapter Three: Youngest Heartbreak
Chapter Four: Networking
Chapter Five: Gin & Tonic
Chapter Six: Flashback
Chapter Seven: First Kiss
Chapter Eight: Suit and Tie
Chapter Nine: The Three of Us
Chapter Ten: Finding Love
Chapter Eleven: The Hotel Room
Chapter Twelve: The Future
Chapter Thirteen: Family
Bonus Feature: CRAVE: My Billionaire Stepbrother Part 1
Sexy Sneak Peek
All the awkwardness of the afternoon was dispelled as soon as we walked all together into the hotel room. I still couldn’t tell the gorgeous brothers apart, so when one kissed me, I didn’t know if it was Cole or Carson.
And frankly, I didn’t care. They were both incredible, filled with desire for me – me! Mousy little Mona Valentine – and I just wanted to enjoy every second of it. And, if I am honest, every inch of it.
As they took their suits and ties off, I felt like I was watching a strip show. After spending my whole life being completely innocent of boys, these men were going to ruin me for all others. Each layer of clothing that was peeled away revealed more of their perfectly proportioned frames, their matching sculpted musculature, their tanned, silky skin. They both had boxer briefs on, looking for all the world like underwear models, and I couldn’t help but reach out to touch them. We all fell on the bed, in a tangle of arms and legs on top of me, one kissing me wildly while the other licked and kissed down the side of my body, devouring my curves, hands everywhere, holding, clutching, caressing.
“Oh Mona you’re so fucking sexy-“ one growled. It was my turn to remove my top, exposing my curves little by little, and even the silky bra I had put on, hoping they’d see it. His mouth fell on my hard nipple, the little bites and licks immediately bringing me to nearly to orgasm.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” the other groaned, tangling his hands in my hair, then slipping tongue in my mouth, teasing my lips with his slick kisses.
I was bursting with desire, pent-up adolescent lust nearly turned adult free-for-all. But it was more than that, the feeling was more than a mouth making its way down to my center, while the other flicks and kisses the hard nubs of my nipples. It was more than the two men’s model good looks and voracious lust.
It was also that I always loved them.
Chapter One: Facing Facts
If you told me one year ago that today I would be in a relationship, I would be extremely doubtful. If you said that I would also be 5 months pregnant, I would have never believed you. And if you said that I, the notoriously organized and reliable Mona Valentine, would be unsure about who was the father of my child, I would probably slap you for saying something so utterly ridiculous and impossible and well, rude.
But here I sit, facing these very truths. To make it even more difficult, I have exactly one week to figure out a way to tell my mom and stepfather all of this, and more.
My mom booked the flight months ago; their visit is practically set in stone. They insisted they would come to see me after I “couldn’t” make it to this year’s family Christmas. I had thought that giving myself more time would make all of this easier, somehow – that it would give me a chance to explain things. But somehow time passed, I said nothing, and now they are coming and there is no hiding this reality. I am very visibly pregnant. My bra size alone changed four times in as many months. Everything about my life has changed since they last visited. I no longer live alone, I have cut way back on my work hours, and even if I remove the beautiful, big diamond ring from my left hand, … my entire world will be unrecognizable to them. And that isn’t even the worst of it.
I have no idea how I got here.
I am not exaggerating; I literally cannot make sense of what has happened. A year ago I had never kissed a guy. I had never been asked on a date, and I wasn’t really doing anything to try and change that. I hadn’t even had a crush in ages. Looking back, I realize I was devoting 100% of my attention to my career. My work at a non-profit organization had taken over my life. I was so passionate about our mission, helping the poorest children in our community stay in school, that it consumed me. I barely even noticed when all of my coworkers and friends began to pair off and start families.
A relationship was the farthest thing from my mind. And a relationship built for… three? Unthinkable.
Chapter Two: Childhood Crushes
My last crush was many years ago, and it did not end well.
In high school I practically idolized these two boys in the grade above me. Carson and Cole Williams were identical twins, and they were perfect in nearly every way. They were smart and popular and beyond handsome. Even though they were identical, each brother exuded his own unique style. Carson wore his curly hair long and was never quite clean-shaven. He wore clothes that seemed manly and rugged, even on a teenager. Cole was the more clean-cut brother, with short hair and buttoned-up polo shirts. He even wore a suit and tie for a class presentation one time.
What teenage boy has a real suit? Hnng.
The Williams twins were star athletes on our school’s soccer team, so nerdy little me signed up to be one of the team’s managers. It was my excuse to watch every single practice. I was mousy and quiet so I knew nobody would suspect I was gawking at the hot brothers from behind my dark sunglasses.
At night I would conjure up the images in my mind, picturing that day’s hotness, and touch myself. Their glistening sweaty bodies awakened a part of myself that I hadn’t known, and suddenly I felt alive and sexual in this new, intense way. Even though I knew it was possible for a girl to masturbate, I also knew it was completely taboo. Not a single one of my friends had ever mentioned touching herself. Ever. Now here I was going to bed earlier and earlier so I could have more time to let my mind – and my hands – wander.
My two gorgeous crushes seemed not to know that I existed, and I used this to my advantage. They were incredibly popular, and I knew it was safest to keep my distance. I wa
s the “before” picture from the makeover spread in every magazine, and I so did not need the scrutiny of the entire high school.
Even as a very little girl I knew that I was different. Always clad in vintage clothes, I didn’t feel like wearing whatever the newest trend happened to be that week. I enjoyed playing unusual sports (my parents put me in a fun kids circus class when I was 4, and it stuck). My classmates called me “nerdy” because I was smart, “weird” because my clothes were from the thrift store, and “chubby” because puberty hit early and I had curves. I was different, but I wasn’t inferior.
And somehow, even as a young girl, I knew this. I knew that one day I would find a place where I would fit in perfectly. The other kids had jokes and games that didn’t include me, but somehow I remained strong for many years. I knew I was smart, and that my quirks didn’t fit in, but they were me.
Chapter Three: Youngest Heartbreak
Cole Williams barely knew I existed. I might have been a blip on his picture of the soccer team experience. Carson was maybe more of a people person, and he took time to at least know the names of the people he encountered day to day. He would say “hi” to me and sometimes make a generic but friendly comment. “Great weather today, right?” or, “Ugh, homework sucks!”
I’d just smile back or nod, cheeks burning, and my mind would be filled with fantasies I’d revisit later on, alone.
Both of them were kind of untouchable though, in their perfection and popularity. Realistically I had no idea who they knew or what they thought, but I enjoyed feeling a sense of anonymity around the two of them. If I had my choice I would have been anonymous for all of high school, but my last name was not helping.
I have always hated my last name. Take a shy little girl who has trouble fitting in and give her the name “Valentine.” Kids can be brutal, and the jokes were not limited to the last week in February. Through the entire year, every day brought an opportunity for somebody to tell me that I would never have a valentine, or that cupid must have made a mistake when I was named. The taunting didn’t have to make sense, it only had to be hurtful. I tried hard to stay strong through so much teasing. I told myself again and again that kids were just trying to seem cool by picking on me, until one day it was just too much.
One horrible morning, everything changed. I was standing in the school courtyard, minding my own business, waiting for the first bell to ring. The quarterback of our football team, Hugh Ballard, approached me for the first and only time in my life.
Like a scene in a cheesy movie, a crowd gathered and hushed to hear what Hugh was going to say. He was practically famous. His father was the football coach, his older brother was recently drafted into the NFL, and Hugh was already being scouted by college recruiters. I was stunned when he walked up to me, just dumbfounded enough to stand completely still while everybody cleared a space around us. He was smiling, and I stupidly thought this meant that this might be a harmless interaction. He loudly asked “where did a little girl like you get all these curves?” which would be mortifying enough without what happened next. Hugh confidently raised both hands to my chest and firmly grabbed my breasts. He turned to a group of the most popular boys and proclaimed, “okay I owe you each $5. They feel real.” Everybody had a good chuckle and walked off to class. I stood there paralyzed, mortified, and devastated to notice that two of the boys in the group were Cole and Carson. They were in on this humiliation. I wanted to die.
I resolved to forget them. Never think of them at night or at any other time. And I was mostly successful.
Chapter Four: Networking
A year ago, when my work was taking up so much of my time, I was completely blind to the dating world. I found my job incredibly fulfilling. I had found a space where I not only fit in, but I was valued. I felt so lucky to be paid, albeit a modest salary, to do such meaningful work. The poorest kids in my community had a terrible school dropout rate, and I had the means and ability to turn the statistics around, and I was paid for it. I know that it’s probably nerdy to say, but this was a dream come true for me. I was passionate about the work, and had completely forgotten to work at finding passion.
Rather than visiting dating websites, I spent even my spare time online searching for grants that could further our foundation’s cause. Instead of letting my friends try to set me up on dates, I was hitting them up for professional advice. And when I attended networking events, I spent the entire time trying to network. Apparently I was the only one.
Networking events are kind of notoriously terrible. They are one step above pointless business meetings, because everybody dresses better and there is the possibility of alcohol, but they still aren’t good. You can’t let loose and be yourself, because it’s professional, but you are supposed to socialize and make personal connections. So… pretend you never swear and always look polished, but become best friends with people in your field in a matter of minutes because your livelihood depends on it. Literally, at a non-profit, your job exists only if you manage to keep finding new investors.
At one such event, I found myself awkwardly participating in one of those dumb icebreaker exercises. They are supposed to help a room full of strangers let down their guards, but they always make me feel like running away and crawling under a rock. As if these games weren’t terrible enough, this one involved being all tangled up with strangers, like playing Twister but in a pencil skirt and high heels. We were all holding hands, but not with the people closest to us, so we had to twist and writhe our way out of this big knot. I became hyper-aware of my clammy palms and the sweat marks under my arms. Who came up with this shit?
This was my first time at this particular event, but my colleagues had tipped me off ahead of time to look for the “purple people.” Anybody who had a purple conference badge was representing a charitable investor. These folks had the money. Those of us who represented non-profits had orange badges. As we played this torturous game, I started to try to see who the purple people were. I might as well learn something during this endless icebreaker. Shouldn’t icebreakers be short? Don’t we have an actual presentation to watch??
And then I noticed one purple person in particular, and I nearly screamed aloud. There was Cole Williams, exactly as I remembered him. The teenager who wore a suit and tie was now the grown man in the most perfectly tailored suit I had ever seen. If I were trendier I might know if this was what a “metrosexual” looked like. He was literally the most stylish and perfectly coiffed person in the room. His manicure was better than mine, and I had been feeling pretty proud I had gotten one at all. I was fairly certain that he hadn’t seen me yet, and it seemed unlikely that he would remember me if he did. Plus, my nametag said “Simone” instead of “Mona.” I had long ago decided my full name sounded more professional. I felt confident that I could stay under the radar until I had gathered myself and figured out what to do.
This evening’s event was just the beginning of a 3-day conference. I lived only 40 minutes away, but room and board were included in the conference and I had planned to stay at the hotel. If Cole would be staying for the whole weekend, too, I might just have to interact with him one-on-one. And if by any chance he did know who I was all those years ago, my last name would be an immediate giveaway. “Valentine” isn’t that common and I had been taunted for it relentlessly. This was all so much to think about, and I didn’t have much time.
Chapter Five: Gin & Tonic
I managed to get through the evening’s presentation and cocktail hour without running into Cole. I was completely fixated on where he was the entire time and could barely breathe, but I got through it. I felt like an idiot. I was there to get actual, valuable work done. Poor children desperately needed my organization’s help, and here I was behaving like an actual child myself, glued to the back of the room because my crush might see me. I thought: for fuck’s sake Mona, get it together.
I needed a drink, but I knew the hotel bar would be swarmed with people from the conference. I dashed across the
street to a dive bar, knowing that I was way overdressed. I knew I would stand out, but also that it was unlikely that I would run into the “purple people” in this kind of place. I sat there, alone in a loud crowd, and sipped a stiff gin and tonic. In spite of the noise around me, or maybe because of it, I was able to reflect on the situation with my full attention. I started to wonder if I even liked this guy.
Did I want his friendship? How could I even pursue a business connection with Cole after he laughed along with my teenage torment? That public groping all those years ago… in hindsight it was downright assault. It was traumatic to me. How was he a part of the group that thought that it was cute and funny? Fuck that guy.
I ordered another drink, and my thoughts became more forgiving. Maybe he was just going with the flow back then… high school is a tough time. Or maybe he didn’t even know what was going on and just laughed along with the others? Whatever it was, it suddenly seemed ridiculous for me to be judging him so harshly nearly a decade later. Besides, with a few hours to digest all of this, I realized that this was a purely professional event. I didn’t have to dredge up old feelings; this wouldn’t be personal.
Even if we did play awkward Twister together, we were here on business.
Chapter Six: Flashback
After a couple of drinks, I headed back to the hotel. I felt ready to get a good night’s sleep and wake up for a great professional weekend. I had a hot shower and got ready for bed. The last step in my bedtime routine was putting lotion on my legs. The lavender-infused scent helped me relax and the moisturizing cream made my skin feel silky-smooth. But that night, it seemed more sensual. I let my mind wander, and suddenly I imagined that it was Cole massaging me.