HUGE 3D: A MFMM MENAGE STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (HUGE SERIES Book 5) Read online

  “Man up, son. I wanted to make sure she ate something before the three of you inhale what’s left. And have you never heard of ladies first?” Richard replies, leveling a look at Dylan before finally handing him a plate.

  By the time all five of us are seated, only Richard, my mom and I have any food left to eat. He wasn’t kidding when he said that his boys inhale their food.

  “Hold up now,” Richard says, motioning for all three of them to sit back down as they quickly hop up, finished. “We wanted to talk to you. All four of you.”

  I raise an eyebrow at Mom but she’s too busy staring blissfully up at him to even notice. As much as I love her, sometimes it’s downright annoying to see just how lovey-dovey the two of them are. I put all my attention toward eating Mom’s famous potato salad, instead.

  “But we didn’t do anything,” Dylan pipes up.

  “Yeah, that sounds convincing,” I mumble, still not looking up from my plate. One of them snickers and blood rushes to my cheeks.

  “No one’s in trouble,” Mom says, taking a dainty bite of her hot dog.

  Richard places a hand on hers and squeezes it. “At least not yet, anyway. Kelly and I are going away for the week. I thought I’d surprise her with a little pre-birthday trip.”

  Drew pumps his arm in the air. “Hell yeah! When do we leave?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, dude. They’re not taking us with them. Are you, Dad?” Dane says, leaning back in his chair.

  Richard shakes his head. “No, it’s just for the two of us. We’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. We wanted to talk to you four and go over the rules of being here at the house on your own.”

  Dane sighs. “We’re not kids. What, do you think we’re going to do? Burn the place down or something?”

  “Or something,” Richard replies, meeting all three of their gazes intently. “No parties. I don’t want anyone in my house, or in my pool for that matter, that I don’t know, and the three of you need to look after your sister, of course.”

  I shrink in my seat, gritting my teeth. “I do not need looking after.”

  “We know that, Milly. We just want you all to keep each other in check, that’s all,” Mom tries to smooth it over.

  “Got that, boys? Take care of her,” Richard adds.

  “We promise,” the three of them all say simultaneously. I feel them practically burning holes in me, staring at me the way they are. All I want to do is slip out of this weird family cookout and into my room where I can finally get some peace.

  “Oh honey, I can’t believe you did this for me!” Mom squeals, carrying on about water-skiing and buffets, Richard laughing at her enthusiasm.

  I try and finish up what’s left on my plate, but every time I sneak a peek at my step brothers, I see them all staring back at me. Dane looks on with some kind of curiosity, while the other two have wicked smiles on their handsome faces. They seem to be enjoying the idea of having to keep an eye on me more than they should.

  My chest tightens and I quickly look away, pretending to study the baked beans on my fork. I’ll be taking an extra-long shower when I go back up to my room. Anything to get them out of my head.

  3

  I throw my tote bag over my shoulder, the heavy textbooks weighing me down as I emerge from my room. I can’t believe it’s already Monday, and I’m having to leave to go to class. The very last thing I feel like doing right now is trying to solve finite math equations.

  Yawning, I make it down the steps without managing to trip over my own two feet, feeling like a damn zombie from one of those stupid movies the guys are always watching in the living room. The coffee pot is thankfully full, so I pour myself a mug-full and blow on it for a moment before taking the first eye-opening sip. My dad taught me the easiest way to wake myself up is to head right to the coffee pot and drink it straight black like he always did. Then you didn’t have to worry about mixing creamer or sugar or god knows what else in it. I push the thought of him aside, immediately feeling guilty.

  It doesn’t take long before heavy footsteps thump down the wooden stairs, Dylan and Drew laughing over something. My shoulders slump. All I want to do is finish my coffee in peace before I have to walk to the bus station down the road.

  “Morning, princess,” Drew says, nudging me as he grabs the coffee pot himself. Dylan’s already handing him the half and half from the fridge, sliding two oversize mugs toward him.

  “Ugh. Does everything you do have to be so… extra?” I groan, rolling my eyes as I take a seat at the table and snag one of the bananas from the fruit bowl.

  “Absolutely. Every. Single. Thing. We can’t help it that there’s just so much more of us than most guys.” Dylan winks at me, clearly insinuating something more than what I meant.

  After sliding into the chairs across from me, the guys dig into the cookie jar, leaning back in their chairs.

  “Breakfast of champions right there,” I grumble, taking a small bite from my banana.

  Drew smiles, a smudge of chocolate on the corner of his lip drawing my attention to the shape of them. He licks the chocolate away slowly. “Don’t be such a killjoy, Mills.”

  “Whatever,” I say, pulling my bag back over my shoulder. “I need to get going to class anyway.”

  At this, the third pair of footsteps thunder down the steps and Dane yanks the spare car keys from the holder on the wall next to him as he comes down, right on cue. “We got you covered.”

  “Um. No. I’m just going to take the—”

  “Car to school. We’re taking you on our way over. Dad said so,” he interrupts me, the look in his eyes almost as if he’s challenging me to say otherwise.

  “This is such bullshit,” I mumble to myself, rolling my eyes one last time before heading out the front door. I don’t’ have to look to know that all three of them are following closely behind. How utterly embarrassing.

  I groan as I try to pull the back-passenger door open until Dane unlocks the doors, and I slide in, huffing. It just goes to figure that when I finally get a chance for some peace and quiet away from everyone, some of my own freedom even, they have to come and screw it all up. I don’t know whether to scream or cry!

  Dane hops in the driver’s seat after Dylan tries to snatch the keys to their Dad’s BMW from him. Drew gets behind the driver seat, slowly sliding in next to me.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was practically sitting bitch, nearly in the middle seat, the way his knee almost brushes against mine. Everything about them is so massive, it’s like trying to sit next to a wild animal wearing a t-shirt and jeans that fit every inch of him perfectly.

  I force myself to look out the window, instead of letting those particular thoughts take hold of me yet again.

  “Nah, fuck him, man. He had his shot and he totally fucking blew it. We were down to eight seconds left in the game. Motherfucker. He’s lucky Coach is the one who tore into him,” Dylan says from the passenger seat, fiddling with the radio. The car is suddenly blasted with the twangy whining of some Rockstar cowboy crooning about his lady love, the rest of us groaning at Dylan.

  “What? This is good shit, right here. Y’all don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Dane quickly changes the station, shaking his head as we pull out of the driveway and head down the road. “Yeah, I do. A goddamn headache. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

  The two of them continue to rib on each other, laughing and carrying on, but I keep my eyes glued to the outside world flashing by me in quick bursts of color. It’s another beautiful day outside, a day where I’d rather be hanging out with Falon and Jordan down at the park than stuck inside with my math professor.

  I’m lost in my thoughts when I feel the seat cushion shifting next to me, where Drew’s spread his legs out even more until our knees really are touching. The smallest contact sends a fluttering chill up my leg, but I pretend not to even notice.

  Until he casually slides his arm back behind my head rest, that is.
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  My heart starts to race. He has to know how close he is to me? I mean, the guy is enormous so maybe he’s just so used to bumping into people everywhere that it’s no big deal to him. I take in a quick breath, my brain working overtime to try and signal my limbs to move over, but it’s not working.

  With Drew so close now, the scent of his clean skin and deodorant and… is that cologne? He smells so fucking good all at once that it nearly overpowers me, leaving me breathless yet dying to keep smelling him. What the hell is wrong with me?

  I know I should push him away—it should be super simple, in fact. All it takes is a little shifting closer to the door and I’m free, but I can’t make myself do it.

  I just have to stop being ridiculous! This is totally wrong—he knows what he’s doing. The corner of his mouth is quirked up like he’s grinning, even though he’s looking out the window. Another shift…and he’s pressed up even more against me, his thigh next to mine.

  It’s so weird, like the two of us are in a completely separate universe here in the back, away from the other two. Drew’s still looking out the window, but with each exhalation, I can feel him getting closer somehow. His finger brushes along my shoulder from behind the head rest, and I swear to god my heart jumps in my fucking chest.

  He keeps quiet, but I know he knows the kind of effect he’s having on me right now.

  Ass.

  How is it possible to hate something and crave it at the same time?

  By some sort of miracle, the car slows to a stop. “All right. Chauffeur duty is done for now. Hop on out, Mills,” Dane says from the front, breaking me out of my foggy thoughts revolving around how far Drew is willing to go.

  I practically scramble out of the car, not bothering to thank them, nearly tripping over my own feet again. I catch myself on the door, thankfully not falling flat on my face, before rushing off to the other end of campus.

  It doesn’t matter how many times I try to reread what Professor Hanks writes on the board, nothing seems to sink into my brain. Instead of writing out the multiple steps in solving quadratic equations, I’m doodling little spirals on my notebook paper, and chewing on my bottom lip.

  It’s like every nerve in my body has come alive after the way Drew brushed against me in the car—my skin’s still tingling even hours later. When I move to my next class, I get the random idea to go stop by the women’s bathroom and finally relieve some of the pressure that’s been building up inside of me. Somehow I get through the day without touching myself, but I know as I gather up my things from Sociology—my last class of the day—that I don’t even need to check my panties to know just how wet I am.

  I give a little wave to the usual people hanging around the city’s bus stop at the front of campus, but I freeze when I see past them.

  Sitting in Richard’s idling BMW, is Dane, Dylan, and of course, Drew. They’re all wearing matching grins and Dane honks the horn, beckoning to me. My jaw hangs open on its own accord, and I snap it shut, narrowing my eyes at them. Who the hell do they think they are, showing up here like this? What do they think I am, twelve?

  I stomp over to the passenger side and bend down until I’m eye-level with Dylan. “What the hell, guys?” I hiss at them.

  “Are you really going to get pissy with us because we’re saving you from having to ride the bus with all the losers?” Dylan retorts, leaning back in his seat with his thick arms folded across his even thicker chest.

  I sigh. “Shut up. This is how I always get home.”

  “Hop in, Mills. We’ll take you home,” Dane says from the driver’s seat. “We’re already here, anyway.”

  Behind him, Drew’s mouth curves into a mischievous grin. “Yeah, Mills. Hop in.”

  With a clammy palm, I grasp the door handle and tug, my throat going dry as I slide into the back next to him. Even as Dane mentions something about them coming back from training, I already know. Not that I’m psychic or anything, but the three of them smell absolutely heavenly, freshly showered and all.

  I roll down my window as we drive off, scowling.

  But behind the scowl, I’m still thinking all the things that should never cross my mind about my three gorgeous step brothers.

  4

  My stomach growls as I flip through the channels. There’s nothing good on, and I’ve already run out of my secret stash of snacks I keep in my closet. It’s ridiculous. I should just go downstairs and make myself a sandwich. It is my house too, after all.

  But the guys’ voices pierce through my thoughts, teasing me. I can only imagine the stupid shit they’ll say now that they have me alone in the house with no one to back me up. Especially once I’m making a sandwich, of all things.

  It’s not just the irritating comments that are keeping me from my dinner, either. Drew’s fingers brushing against me in the car earlier sent a not so innocent thrumming straight down below. I bite my lip, unable to help myself. It was so weird, so wrong, but I can’t pretend that it didn’t leave me thinking about him and his brothers for the rest of the day.

  I grit my teeth, determined to outlive my hunger. I’ll just have to deal with it until everyone else is asleep at least. Right?

  Starting from the guide, I scroll through the channels all over again, hunched over my bed until I realize someone is calling my name downstairs.

  “What the…?” Peeking my head outside the door, I listen again.

  “Mills! Hello?”

  I clear my throat, realizing it’s Dane. “Yeah?”

  “Dinner’s ready.”

  It’s hard to fight the urge to laugh. They made dinner? And I’m the fucking Queen of England. “Uh, okay then,” I call back down. Whatever the case may be, I have to check it out. It may be microwaved popcorn for all I know. That’ll give me ammunition for years to come!

  I check my hair in the mirror to make sure I don’t look like I’m wearing a bird’s nest on my head, before slowly opening the door and walking downstairs.

  The smell of roasted chicken hits me immediately, making my stomach growl even louder now. I walk into the dining room and my jaw practically drops to the floor. Am I living in a dream or something?

  The table is covered in that kind of food that I would’ve expected Mom to prepare, not Dane, Dylan, and Drew. A big roast chicken is in the middle of the long table, surrounded by big pots of steamed veggies, mashed potatoes, and even a gravy boat. The basket of rolls is steaming, and I find myself damn-near drooling looking at everything.

  Shock runs through me. This was all prepared by them? I had no idea they could cook, much less something this nice. My eyes immediately follow Drew, who’s setting the table. His thick, corded muscles flex under his t-shirt as he leans down and places all the silverware on either side of each plate. He even manages to make chores sexy. I have to remember to breathe.

  In comes Dylan, with the wine bucket full of ice and two bottles of Richard’s best wine. The urge to tell him off for taking their Dad’s pride and joy leaves me just as quickly as it came. I could use some wine to get through this dinner, that’s for sure.

  “Here, have a seat,” Dylan says as he pulls out a seat in the middle of the table for me.

  Without saying a word, because what the hell could I possibly say to all this, I sit down and allow Dylan to help scoot me in. All this domesticity and the sight of the three of them handling things like grown ass men, well, it’s just too much for me.

  As the other two make their way back to the table, a nervous giggle escapes my throat, but it doesn’t stop there, and I start laughing uncontrollably.

  The three of them exchange a look. “Did I miss something?” Dane asks with one eyebrow raised.

  I wave them all off, finally the laughing subsides some. “It’s just… I mean, c’mon! You guys! All this,” I say, gesturing to the food. “I guess I never imagined you being so domestic.”

  Dylan snorts but Dane just shrugs, leaning forward to cut into the chicken. “Well, we did have to fend for ourselves with just Dad
around for a while. When he worked late, we had to figure out how to feed ourselves. Sandwiches and microwave meals only get you so far, you know?”

  The blood drains from my face in an instant. I completely forgot that, and now I feel like a total bitch for even saying anything. Here they are, cooking an entire meal for all of us, and I’m sitting here ribbing on them for it. Now, who’s the jerk?

  I clear my throat and nod. “Right, well, uh, it smells really good. Thanks for cooking. I figured I was going to have to make something myself.”

  “And when were you planning on doing that? It’s already after eight,” Drew says, serving himself some potatoes with a smirk in my direction. “Or were you going to wait until you had the kitchen to yourself?”

  I grab a roll and start buttering it. “Something like that,” I mumble. The other two laugh and shake their heads.

  It doesn’t take long before my plate is full, and when I take the first bite of chicken I nearly melt into a puddle. It’s so juicy, so delicious and perfectly cooked, that my eyes flutter shut. “Wow. This is really good.”

  “Thanks,” Dane says with a smile, taking a bite of his own food.

  “Yeah, yeah. Food’s delicious. Let’s move on, shall we?” Dylan chimes in, tapping the side of the wine bucket. “I’ve got Dad’s vintage red right here. What do we say we crack it open?”

  “Hell yes,” Drew says, thumping his fist on the table.

  I shrug my shoulders, but secretly I’m waiting on my glass as well. A nice glass of wine should go great with all this food. Even in front of the guys.

  Dylan pops the cork and starts filling up our glasses, settling back into his chair with a huge smile. “To Dad. For being the biggest wine snob we know!”

  “To Dad.”

  “To Richard,” I add, clinking glasses with the three of them across the table as best as I can.

  --

  “More wine?” Dylan asks, holding up the second bottle toward me.

  I look down at my empty glass and shrug. “Sure, thanks,” I say as I hold up the glass with a flourish. It’s silly to think that I was so worried about coming down here and running into the guys. Like, of course, I’m going to, so why be so worried?