Beast Brothers Page 2

  “Megan?” Brock says softly.

  I shake my head. “I can’t,” I say. “But … thanks for the offer.”

  I feel more than see the guys look at each other again, and then Brock rotates his hips, grinding his erection against my sensitized flesh. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud. “Anytime,” he says. “Consider it a standing offer.”

  A vision of his cock, standing proud and tall against his abdomen, instantly fills my mind. Which no doubt is what he intended. “Oh god,” I whisper.

  He Got His and Now I’m Getting Mine

  Megan

  Brock’s mouth brushes the bare skin on the side of my neck, making me jolt. Since I can’t take them up on their offer, I don’t need any more torment. I try to pull away again, but he just tucks me back against his side.

  “Easy, Megalicious,” he says in that sexy rumble of his. “You’re too tense. We need to help you relax.”

  “You did not just call me — that.” I can’t even make myself repeat his ridiculous nickname. Who the hell does he think he is? Besides the guy who’s making my brain melt, I mean, along with the rest of my body.

  Cody chuckles. “How about megagorgeous?” He shifts closer, running a finger up and down my arm. “Or megasexy.”

  My system is overloading again, and I can’t help squirming some more on Brock’s lap. “Yeah, babe,” he says. “Let Daddy Brock make you feel better.”

  “Daddy Brock?” I sputter and then snort with laughter. “You guys are no older than I am. I might even be older than you.”

  “It’s not the years, baby,” he says, his lips grazing the sensitive shell of my outer ear. “It’s the mileage.”

  Even as I roll my eyes at him quoting movie lines at me, he turns me so I’m facing forward in the taxi. One arm wraps around my midriff, and his free hand teases the skin just above the waistband of my shorts.

  His touch sends sparks shooting right down to my pussy. I must have hit my head during the collision harder than I thought. Anger, grief, stress, hormones — can’t forget the raging hormones — have apparently shredded every bit of common sense I possess. Because I don’t say anything.

  All I have to do is open my mouth and tell them, “No.” Or “Stop that.” And they’d back off, both of them. I know it in my bones. Impossible as it sounds, I feel safe with these two men who are taking such liberties with my body.

  I’m letting it happen because I want it to. Because I want them. Because right now, with the rain wrapping the taxi in sheets of water, hiding us in our own little world, all I care about is how they’re making me feel.

  And how they’re making me feel is like a beautiful, sexy, desirable woman. Someone worth wanting. Someone Jason was a fool to let go.

  Who are you kidding? whispers the self-doubt that’s been tormenting me all day, ever since I walked in on Jason and his mistress. They just want an easy fuck. You’re nothing to them.

  I almost listen, almost give in to the crushing weight of my insecurity. But then my phone rings. Cody pulls it out of my purse. “Jason,” he says, reading the screen. “Who’s that?”

  My anger blazes again. “No one,” I snap. I grab the phone, hit the Reject Call button, and toss it back in my purse. Fuck Jason, and not in a good way. He got his and now I’m getting mine.

  I relax against Brock, consciously letting go of my resistance. “That’s my girl,” he whispers. His hand slips inside my shorts, then under the elastic of my panties, his fingertips teasing the curls above my clit.

  Now that I’ve decided not to fight it, I’m impatient for more. “Touch me,” I whisper back. “Do it.”

  Brock’s hand dips lower, while Cody’s slides inside my top and down to my breasts. He hefts one in his palm at the same moment that his brother cups me, the heel of his hand just above my clit, his fingers against my soft flesh. “Fuck,” I hiss, as needlepoints of pleasure erupt under my skin.

  Cody flicks his thumb over my nipple, then pushes the cup of my bra down and takes my swollen peak between his thumb and forefinger, twisting lightly. I gasp, a distant corner of my brain hoping like hell that the driver is too distracted by the weather and the traffic to notice what his passengers are up to.

  Brock pushes a finger inside me and presses his hand against my clit, and if not for his arm around me I’d shoot straight through the roof of the cab. I bite my lip hard as his finger pumps slowly in and out of me, driving me insane. Oh god, is this really happening?

  And then my phone rings again.

  Cody fishes it out of my purse with his free hand, glances at it, and passes it to me. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are mischievous and he doesn’t release my breast. Brock doesn’t stop either, his finger doing a torturous slide in and out of me.

  I check the readout, expecting it to be Jason again, and a cruel streak I didn’t know I had is tempted to take the call and tell him exactly what I’m doing right now. But it’s not him. “It’s my dad!” I whisper frantically. “You have to stop!”

  “Why?” Brock whispers back. “I know Coach is awesome, but he doesn’t have x-ray vision.”

  “I can’t concentrate while you’re doing that!” I hiss. And I absolutely cannot talk to my dad while two of his players are feeling me up.

  But Brock is unrepentant and unrelenting. “You can handle it,” he says calmly, his finger keeping up its steady seduction.

  Infuriating, stubborn, impossibly sexy man! The call’s about to go to voicemail, so there’s no more time to argue. I clear my throat before I swipe the screen to answer. “Hi, Dad,” I say, hoping I sound normal.

  “Meggie.” He hasn’t called me that in years. When I was a teenager, I complained that it made me sound like a little girl, and he stopped. I didn’t realize until this very moment that I’ve missed it.

  “Where are you?” he says. My heart constricts at the love and worry in his voice. He has always been there for me, and here I am repaying him by making out in a taxi with the Beast Brothers.

  I close my free hand over Brock’s wrist, tugging. He not only ignores me, he presses another finger inside me. “I’m almost there,” I say, and then realize that’s true in more ways than one. My voice is husky and I hope Dad doesn’t notice. “The traffic is horrendous, and the rain —” I add hastily.

  Brock speeds up a little, and it takes all my willpower not to moan right into my dad’s ear. Cody gives my breast a squeeze, then rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger again. I wriggle on Brock’s lap, ready to burst.

  “All right,” Dad says. “I won’t keep you while you’re driving. Be safe and see you soon.” He hangs up before I can say anything else, saving me from explanations — and embarrassing sounds.

  Before his brother even takes the phone from my hand, Brock speeds up again, the friction of his thick fingers in my pussy driving me right to the verge. Cody goes back to teasing my nipple, pinching, then twisting it, sending hot jolts of pleasure shooting down to my clit. “Oh god,” I groan, trembling on the brink of release. “That feels so good!”

  Brock presses hard on my clit, fingers still plunging inside me. Cody tugs at my nipple, pulling it out, holding on instead of releasing it. “Come for us,” Brock growls in my ear.

  And I do — so hard I see stars. I always thought that was a myth, but no. My pussy clamps around Brock’s fingers; my ass lifts from his lap as I arch into the climax, and fireworks explode behind my closed eyelids. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

  “Don’t stop, babe,” Brock says. “Give us all of it.” And the brothers keep working me, their fingers playing my body expertly, sending me over the edge two more glorious times until I eventually go limp.

  Cody’s eyes smile into mine as he tucks my breast back into my bra. “Feel better?” he says softly.

  I feel amazing — so good, in fact, that words are beyond me — but the sane part of my brain is slowly coming back online. I can’t believe what I just did, where I did it, and who I di
d it with!

  “You’re amazing,” Brock tells me, his voice a warm vibration against my skin. He sounds like he means it, and for some reason his words fill me with a different kind of warmth. His fingers are still inside me, and my inner walls keep clenching around him.

  “Give me her phone,” he says to his brother, and with his free hand he expertly thumbs his way to my contact list and adds a number. The cab driver makes a turn. With mingled relief and panic I see that it’s the street to my dad’s house. I tug at Brock’s wrist again, and this time he slowly, reluctantly withdraws his hand, enabling me to slide off his lap and back onto the seat.

  Cody moves over to give me room. My phone rings — Jason again. I am so done with him. I turn the phone off entirely and drop it back in my purse.

  While I tidy up my clothing, the cab pulls to the curb in front of my dad’s house. Digging in my purse, I pull out the ball cap I wore earlier today. I put it on as if I want to protect my hair from the rain, but really, I’m hiding my face from the taxi driver.

  I’m not the type of girl who has sexual encounters in taxis. Not usually, that is. But nothing about today has been normal.

  She Looks Nothing Like My Mother

  Megan

  There’s a car I don’t recognize parked in my dad’s driveway, a white SUV next to his black one. The guys exchange a glance, but don’t say anything. We all get out, and Cody retrieves my suitcase while Brock says to the driver, “Wait here — we’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “That’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to come in with me.” My dad may not have x-ray vision, but I can’t shake the feeling that as soon as he sees us together, he’ll somehow know what just happened.

  “Just need to ask him a question,” Brock says, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that fills me with trepidation. He and Cody follow me up the sidewalk, close behind me as if they’re afraid I’ll slip inside and lock the door on them. They might be right.

  My body hasn’t stopped humming from those amazing orgasms, and I mentally cross my fingers that my face is blank enough to protect me. Since Dad’s expecting me, I open the front door without knocking, the twins still right behind me.

  The entryway opens into the living room, with a hallway branching off to the left that goes to the bedrooms, and a doorway on the right that leads to the kitchen. Since the living room is empty, I turn into the kitchen — and stop so fast the brothers bump into me.

  My dad’s there, and so is a woman I’ve never seen before. Their arms are around each other; his hands are on her ass. And they’re kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

  I haven’t been this shocked since the day I was ten and came home to find my father crying in the living room. Even catching Jason this morning was less of a stunner. My voice is stuck in my throat. I don’t know what I’d say anyway.

  Brock comes to my rescue by clearing his throat loudly, breaking up the makeout session. My dad’s head whips around. “Megan!” he says. He looks confused — understandable, with the Beast Brothers at my back — but also a bit guilty.

  “Hi, Dad.” I find I can speak now that the silence has been broken. “I did tell you I was almost here.” His guilty look increases, and a small part of me is glad because it helps me conceal my own feelings of self-reproach.

  He comes over to give me a hug, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. When I called this morning to say I was on my way, he didn’t ask any questions; something in my voice must have warned him it wasn’t the time. All he said was, “I’ll be here.”

  His unwavering support steadies me, even as the contrast to Jason’s betrayal is like a shard of glass in my heart. I squeeze him tighter, overflowing with love and gratitude, but his next words shatter the mood.

  “Vivian stopped by after we spoke,” he says. “Vivian, I’d like you to meet my daughter Megan.”

  The woman comes forward, hands outstretched. “It’s wonderful to meet you, dear. Your father’s told me so much about you.”

  My first thought is that she looks nothing like my mother. I still have memories of my mom, and lots of old photographs. Not to mention mirrors.

  I have my mother’s auburn curls and curvy build, whereas Vivian is blonde and slender. I’m relieved that there’s no resemblance; I’m not sure what I would do if my dad started dating a lookalike.

  Her expression, though, puts my back up. Maybe it’s my imagination working overtime, but the little smile playing around her lips reminds me of Jason’s mistress. He threw her out this morning when I caught them together, but she smirked at me while she strutted out of the house, as if she’d won some kind of victory.

  I want to smack Vivian’s smile right off her face — which is crazy and wrong. My dad isn’t cheating; he’s entitled to be happy.

  I should be happy that he’s met someone after so many years alone. But I’m not. Shoving aside thoughts of what that says about me, I force a smile and say, “It’s nice to meet you.”

  And that’s when everything goes from awkward to totally insane.

  Because Vivian looks at the twins and says, “Hello, boys. What are you doing here?”

  And Cody and Brock say, “Hey, Mom.”

  You Never Know When You’re Going to Go Horizontal

  Megan

  It’s my turn to whip my head around and stare. “This is your mother?” My voice comes out almost accusatory, like it’s their fault she’s here.

  “Yeah,” Brock says. “Mom works for the team. She helps with marketing.”

  I want to ask if the brothers knew their mother and my father were an item — which they clearly are, judging from the clinch we found them in. But I don’t want to ask in front of our parents, and I definitely don’t want to be alone with the Beast Brothers again.

  What I can do, and I do, is shoot my dad a “What the hell?” look. At which point he finally decides it’s time to focus on the unexpected guests in his kitchen. “I didn’t hear you answer your mother’s question,” he says to the brothers, in a tone that makes it crystal clear he expects an explanation — now.

  Before I can say anything, Cody speaks up. “There was an accident,” he says in an easygoing, aw-shucks way. “We gave Megan a ride.”

  He puts the barest emphasis on the word ride. Not enough to be obvious; just enough that I notice. Fortunately, my dad pays attention to the important part of Cody’s words. His attention switches back to me and his brow creases with concern. “Are you all right, honey? What happened?”

  “I’m fine,” I assure him. I don’t want him any more worried about me than he already is. “My car is probably totaled, though.”

  “She was pretty wrecked,” Brock says. It’s all I can do not to elbow him, hard. With a heroic effort, I manage to keep my face impassive.

  My dad shoots him a look. “And you boys just happened along?” he says. He knows something’s up.

  Brock’s expression is perfectly innocent. “Yeah, we were right there when it happened,” he says. I wonder if he’s playing this game for the fun of it, or if he’s trying to dodge his coach’s wrath.

  My dad lets it go, for now at least, and turns to me. “Did you have your car towed?”

  I tell him I’ve called my insurance, since that’ll be his next question, and that the car is at the garage we always use. “If I can borrow your car tomorrow, I’ll go get the rest of my things.”

  “Of course,” Dad says. Satisfied for the moment, he says to the guys, “Thank you for bringing her home.” My Beast-crazed mind flashes back to the way they brought me in the taxi, and I struggle to keep my thoughts from showing on my face.

  Then he hesitates. He and Vivian exchange a look. And my sexy thoughts vanish as a ball of ice forms in my stomach.

  Because it’s not the kind of look that casual fuck buddies give each other. It’s a Couple Look. It tells me that he and Vivian have enough of a history to have conversations without saying a word.

  Shit.

  It only lasts a moment. Bu
t that’s enough for them to communicate whatever they need to, because my dad turns back to us and asks the twins, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

  When I was growing up, Dad — and Mom, when she was alive — had team members over all the time. So this is nothing unusual. But I also know that normally he’d rather have me to himself my first night home, since we haven’t seen each other in months.

  Vivian, however, shows no signs of leaving. And since she and my dad just had a Silent Couple Conversation, he’s clearly decided that he and I having quality father-daughter alone time is not a priority.

  The ball of ice in my stomach gets bigger. The last thing I want is to spend an evening with Vivian and my dad and no one else. I just don’t think I can handle that today.

  So I turn to the twins and say, “You can, can’t you?” I’m afraid they’ll say no and leave me to cope by myself, so I add some extra incentive. “You guys must be hungry after such a ... hard day.”

  Brock gives me a look that triggers a spark between my legs. “Oh yeah,” he says. “We’re starving. Aren’t we, Cody?”

  “Famished,” Cody agrees, with a grin that’s more than a little sly.

  So that’s how we all wind up sitting around the dining table, sharing the takeout Thai food my dad ordered to welcome me home. Fortunately, he knows I like leftovers, so he ordered extra and there’s enough for everyone. Maybe it only amounts to a snack for the brothers, but at least no one goes without.

  The twins take chairs on either side of me before Vivian can insist that I sit by her so we can get better acquainted. And then they talk about games, drills, practices, playbooks … anything and everything football-related. It frees me from having to say much and, best of all, provides no opportunity for any heart-to-hearts with their mom.

  I’m so glad they’re there. It makes the meal much more relaxing — except, of course, for the constant stream of innuendo they drop into the conversation for my ears only. “Spicy food is the best,” Cody says, giving me a meaningful look.