Double Trouble: A Billionaire Twin Stepbrothers Forbidden Romance Page 3
And also love me.
“Ok,” I ventured, “because my friends all said that you shouldn’t sleep with someone unless you know their middle name, and I think that we at least need to be on a proper first name basis.”
“Makes sense to me!”
“Too true,” Carson breathed, kissing me hard on the lips, while Cole busied himself thrilling my neck and chest with tender nibbles.
“So what do you think? You know who we are now? Should we?”
“Can we?” I said. I could feel them strong and hard against each thigh. How would we decide who goes first, or could they both go at the same time? I didn’t know if it was possible, but after waiting for so long to have them, I didn’t want to waste another second without each inside me.
“Do we want to?”
“I know I do!”
“God yes!” Cole breathed.
I laid on my side, the middle of a Carson-Cole sandwich, ready for the toothpick that ran through the center to pierce me too. It was a little scary to think of accommodating both of them inside me, but it was going to be a little scary either way, and I knew I wanted them now. I didn’t want to wait, have one and the other.
I wanted them both at the same time.
Already really relaxed from the incredible orgasm I had been given only moments earlier, Cole was able to slip inside me without too much resistance. I had thought it was going to hurt, but since I was so wet, and he was so gentle, I was able to enjoy the first push inside me ever, knowing I wanted him so badly. But I could feel Carson on the other side, ready to come in too, and I wanted them both. I wanted this moment to be special, to be the beginning of the three of us together, forever.
I looked over my shoulder, and nodded, and Carson’s hand pressed into my hip, and I could feel him entering me too. Both of them synchronizing their rhythm so that they were entering me at the same time, filling me up, and then retreating before filling me again. It was like I always dreamed: hands everywhere, mouths kissing, stroking, licking, penetrating. We were joined in a sweaty pile of lust and pleasure, the feelings we had taking us over until we writhed our way to three climaxes.
I know I am new at this sex thing, but is it supposed to feel like all your favorite things in life, ice cream, puppies, a hot bath, mixed with the naughtiest things? Because it did.
It was the best feeling in the world, and the most surprising way to lose my virginity that I could ever imagine. Miss Organized, Miss Conservative little Mona Valentine, falling in love with two men, and having them both at the same time.
Chapter Twelve: The Future
After the conference, I continued seeing Carson and Cole. We didn’t have a name for our relationship, but it felt good and we were going with it. Within just a few months, the three of us were becoming more and more serious. I discovered I was pregnant, and while it was a surprise, it wasn’t a disaster. In fact, both twins seemed excited to begin a future together. It wasn’t a typical family structure, but it was ours. We decided we would get married, but there was no hurry. There was lots of time to discover what we had before making it official.
But just as we were planning our future, we found out that my mother had ventured into one of her own.
She called with the shocking news that she and her new beau, whom I had not even yet met, had eloped. She was Mrs. Williams now, and they were planning a visit. Mr. Williams, it turned out, had twin sons that lived nearby so it would be a chance for everybody to meet. I couldn’t ignore what seemed like a remote, but horrifying, possibility: what if his Williams twins were my Williams twins?
I called my fiancés and told them to hurry home; we needed to talk.
It quickly became clear that what I thought was a very small chance, was in fact our reality: my fiancés were my stepbrothers now, and our parents were visiting in a matter of days.
I would have to tell them the full truth, right away: that I am having a baby, that there are two men who could be the father, that I am in love with both men, and that they are my stepbrothers.
Oh my God.
Chapter Thirteen: Family
My mom was practically floating in midair when she arrived, completely taken by her new love. I had never seen her so happy. However, just as I expected, her eyes quickly took me in, and her expression fell. It wasn’t disappointment, but confusion.
My mom knew immediately that I was pregnant. “But, who? When??” she asked.
I stepped aside, and she saw the twins behind me. “Wait what? Which one? What is going on here?” she begged.
Her husband came behind her with suitcases. His face turned a ghostly white and he gasped. Carson was the first to finally speak. “Okay, I know this is a lot for everybody. Let’s sit down and have a glass of wine. Except Mona of course, she’ll have a sparkling water. Let’s just sit and talk, okay?”
My mom answered, “I don’t imagine there is an explanation that will make this okay. What can you possibly say to make any sense of this?” She was white as a sheet, and I guided her to a chair to sit down.
Mr. Williams was calmer. “It’s okay, dear. Let’s just hear them out.”
We all moved to the living room, and I told them that we were in love.
“Who though?” asked my mom, still trying to wrap her head around the situation. I had to give her that though, since it took me a while, and I was involved.
“All of us,” said Cole, evenly. “We know it’s strange, but it’s who we are. We’re happy together. Carson and I are best friends, so it just feels right that we could love the same woman.”
The conversation continued, and eventually my mom was able to calm down and focus on the new life we were bringing into the world. “I can’t say I understand this, and I don’t know if I ever will. But I have a grandbaby coming into this world and I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss out on that.”
“Well that’s a good point, Janice,” said Mr. Williams. I suppose I should start calling him Dan at this point. I didn’t know what he was to me, officially, but Mr. Williams was starting to feel wrong. “A new life – that is the most important thing in all this. That we can enjoy our grandchild, let’s keep that in mind as a priority.”
My mother looked mollified. She reached over and grabbed her glass, holding it up in the air. “To our grandbaby!”
“Grandbabies,” I said. The twins looked at me, shocked, glasses halfway raised. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” I continued, “but I found out the other day, and might as well tell you now since we are all coming clean - we are having twins.”
Everyone started laughing, thrilled to hear that there would not only be one new grandchild but two.
“Girls,” I said.
My mother hugged me, tears in her eyes. “We’ll get through this, honey. Oh twins! Twin girls!”
Still holding me by the shoulders, she looked hard in my eyes.
“Damn these Williams boys, right? They are too attractive for their own good! The father got me and these ones got you!”
Now it was my turn to cry a little. My mother understood. Everything was going to be ok. One big happy family. Full of love and excitement for the future. As it should be.
“But you have to tell me, are you going to change your name?” My mother asked.
“Well, I guess! Mona Williams, sounds ok, right?”
“Sounds beautiful,” my mother said. Janice Williams, Mona Williams, we will have the same last name again.”
“That’s true,” I smiled inwardly.
“But either way,” Cole said, slipping an arm around my waist, “she’s always going to be our Valentine.”
“Just like we said in school,” Carson smiled.
“You did?” I was flabbergasted. “But everyone always made fun of me for that!”
“We weren’t joking, though.” Cole gave me a squeeze and Carson kissed my cheek lightly. I didn’t want to get too excited in front of my mother so I broke away and busied myself getting everyone another drink.
�
�We always loved her,” Carson explained to my mom. “We were just too shy to do anything about it.”
Sometimes things do work out, I thought, smiling. We will face the future together: a family.
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“Have you seen that Carter Reagan? Oh my god, he’s so hot,” said Priss, one of the more popular freshman girls, as she flipped through a magazine.
“I know! I totally have a picture of him over my bed,” said her friend. “I kiss it every night,” she giggled. They fought over the magazine on the cafeteria table, drooling over its spread pages more than they were over their neglected lunches.
I frowned. Little did they know Carter Reagan, the famous model, was my long lost stepbrother. Honestly, it was painful just to hear his name. Carter had been my step since we were fifteen, and just skinny kids. I had nursed a crush on him from afar ever since the day he chased off some bullies who were tormenting me. I’ll never forget the way he stood up to them, even though at that time he was not much more than a boy, and certainly not the well-built man the girls admired now. Of course, I had to keep my feelings my dearest secret once I found out our parents were getting married, but there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t dream of him. It was a difficult time of my life, since my dad left, and Carter was my protector, my solace. His warm, crinkled blue eyes, his then boyishly thin, strong arms, and his soft-looking lips filled my dreams. I guess a lot of people felt similarly, because when he turned eighteen and bulked up, he was scouted by a modeling agency and in a whirlwind, Carter left Mistwell and went off to live in New York City. That was two years ago, and it still hurt.
I’ve never left our town, and even after I graduated I decided to stick around and volunteer at the high school while I looked for a job and figured out what I wanted to do with my life. Our family didn’t have a lot of money, so if I were to attend college, I’d have to fund it myself. Carter was making huge dollars off in New York, but he didn’t send anything back to us in Mistwell. Not that he necessarily should have to. It’s just that we could really use it – especially me, if I were to ever get out of here. But, he doesn’t owe me anything. Of course, I’d be thrilled to work a more lucrative job than volunteer work, if there was anything in town to be had. I had been pounding the pavement for weeks, months, but this volunteer position was the only thing I could find. It would look good on applications whenever there was an opportunity, was what I told myself. When you don’t have a ticket out like Carter, you make do with what you can. And when you do have a ticket out, maybe you make short work out of forgetting your stepsister, no matter how close you may have been.
As I wiped down the desks in the classroom and threw away the garbage, including the rest of the magazine those girls had torn out his pictures out of, I noticed my hands were trembling. I guess I’d been in denial. I thought there was no way I would have to endure hearing Carter’s name at Mistwell High, as it had been years since he had attended school there. But I guess he was just that famous, now, and not for chasing bullies or being on the wrestling team or for being crowned prom king. No, famous for real.
I would see his picture sometimes in the tabloids, with this or that famous or up-and-coming model on his arm, always looking so sophisticated in his Varvatos clothes and Prada sunglasses. Behind the shades, I tried to see the skinny kid that seemed to care about the girl who was his plain, unpopular stepsister, the boy who had held her in his arms when she cried, but it was tough. Was he gone forever? Like my dad?
One of the only times he had come into town was during the Christmas holidays. It was his 19th birthday on New Years, after being gone a year, and he barely spent a minute with us, rather going out with all his old friends from Mistwell High.
“Heather!” he said, looking at me as if for the first time. I had changed quite a bit in the last year, growing into my body and learning how to do makeup and dress, but the way he looked at me with his eyes popping out, you would have thought I had two heads. “You look great! We gonna hang out this week?”
“Yeah, when?” I said quickly – too quickly. I am sure I seemed like a loser who didn’t have anything else to do, but the fact was, there wasn’t much going on in our small town. Besides, when was I going to have the chance to talk to him again? I had to take what I could get.
“Soon, soon!” He demurred, touching my face and sending stars through my body, and my heart jumped. But then it seemed like he was avoiding me – like all I saw of him was his back as he went out the door, or what I always pictured when I closed my eyes: his gaze and then his hands discreetly roaming over my body… his blue, blue eyes, his long lashes, his soft lips coming in for a tender, then hungry kiss.
But, before very long, my handsome, well dressed, and formerly caring stepbrother, and somehow the love of my life, was gone again, to live his glamorous life in NYC and beyond.
***
When I walked into the seniors’ classroom the next day, everyone was abuzz.
“Did you hear?” one of the students said to me. “There’s a contest to go on a date with Carter Reagan in New York!”
I felt like I had been kicked. She was still talking, something about a radio station, something about all-expenses paid, something about an essay contest, but my mind was racing. I couldn’t breathe. Win a date with my stepbrother? How could I let this happen? I tried to keep the shock off of my face, but when I couldn’t speak, soon the girl gave up on talking to me and instead turned to the girl next to her to resume her yakking.
Mind ablaze, I began formulating my plan. I would win that date if it killed me. Nobody would know I was his step. After all, we had different last names. I never changed my name from my dad’s – despite his absence, it meant too much to me to keep it. Heather Greene and Carter Reagan. Still, should I use a fake name?
Going over possibilities in my mind, I realized I was shaking, and it wasn’t a stretch to convince my boss that I was sick and needed to leave. I rushed home to drop my things and hurried to the library where I pounced on the free computers to look up this radio contest in secret. I bit my lip as the page loaded.
It was all there: simply a personal essay contest, where you had to make a case as to why you deserved the date with Carter. The winner would be whisked to Manhattan, where she would spend one day shopping and another in a NYC spa, and then would be picked up in a limo to have dinner and dancing with my step. It struck me as unbelievable. How could he be this famous? The contest entry date was a mere week away. I pored over every inch of the materials, hoping to find some clue as to what they were looking for, but it was hard. Maybe they were just going to pick one out of a hat for all it seemed to matter what you wrote.
Gazing at the pictures I melted. The promo shots of him peppered throughout the press materials were certainly calculated for maximum heat, but for me the effect was a bit stronger. This was one of the first times I let myself even look into those blue eyes for more than a moment since he had left, and the effect was immediate and visceral. At the same time, its aftereffects spread through me softly and lingeringly.
A void in my heart where he used to be began to ache, and lookin
g him in the face, even two-dimensionally, I became acutely aware of the pain of his absence. Memories were flooding back to me. We had been so close. When things got scary or bad as young teens, I would always crawl into his bed with him and we would watch movies or just lie there and talk. He’d poke gentle fun at me for dragging one of my stuffed animals he nicknamed “Peeper” into bed to cuddle with us, but somehow his jokes always made me feel special, not offended. Carter was the only one who understood what I was going through, because he was going through the exact same thing too – the pain of losing his mom to that of losing my dad. And then I didn’t know what I was feeling, or what he was feeling, and didn’t realize that, on my side at least, it would turn to love.
Of course, we didn’t mean to do anything wrong. The closeness, of our laying in bed together was something that we both wanted – no, needed – in that tumultuous time, but neither of us counted on it turning into tangible electricity. I figured when I could feel him getting hard against my leg that it was probably just random, like they taught us about in health class. At least until that one time. I think we were both shocked when I turned over to face him just to say something about the show we were watching, and realized our lips were so close they were nearly touching. The surge between us was palpable. We stared at each other for what felt like five minutes, unable to look away. But while I was afraid, he took both a deep breath, stared deeply into my eyes, and as he pressed his sweet lips against mine, shiny electric stars flew through my body, sparking and bursting with joy. I was feeling things I had never felt, and may have been doing things I shouldn’t have done, but we were young, and confused, and alone, and together.
It would be good just to be with him again, not just see the back of his head as he left. It would be a chance to talk, to explain things, to try to understand why he left me and us, and…if I’m honest with myself, it would be a chance to finally go on a date, albeit a contrived one, with my model stepbrother.