Beast Brothers: A Stepbrother Sports Romance Read online

  Over the Edge

  Cody

  The truth is, Brock and I are used to sharing … but not like this. Most women look at just one of our cocks and are worried about the size. No one’s ever taken us both at once before.

  That Megan would do that for us — with us … I don’t have words for what it means. Yeah, it feels incredible, and I want to fuck her just like this, every day. But my brother and I both know she’s not like some of the women we meet, who are just out to fuck football players. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; we’re not hypocrites. It’s just that her wanting us both this way is something really special.

  She’s so beautiful; I don’t think she has any idea how much. Watching her take us — watching her come, over and over — she’s even more glorious. The look in her eyes … I wish we could stay inside her forever.

  Her eyes are closed now while Brock kisses her, but I see her eyelids flutter with another climax. Brock and I are taking turns with her tits and her clit, keeping her revved up and happy; still, she’s come so many times it’s amazing. Fucking spectacular.

  We’re getting close, Brock and I, and suddenly I wish I weren’t gloved. I wish I could pump her full of my seed and plant a baby in her belly. The impulse shocks me; I’ve never felt this way with a woman before.

  Brock lifts his head, and it’s my turn to kiss her. I seal my mouth to hers, pumping harder, letting my body tell her what I can’t say out loud. She tightens in response, and I know we’re going to bring her to a big finish with us.

  Her frantic whimpers get louder, and I growl into her mouth, Brock and I pounding into her, my fingers on her nipple, his on her clit. She explodes, and I swallow her screams as my brother and I follow her over the edge. I’ve never come so hard, or so long, in my life.

  No Words Needed

  Brock

  It takes us all a while to come down. We stay connected on the bed. Cody’s hand rubs softly back and forth over Megan’s hip; I’ve got one arm around her waist and the other crooked up around our heads, my fingers toying with her hair.

  My eyes meet Cody’s, and I know what he’s thinking. We had our own language when we were little, like a lot of twins do; we’ve always been in tune with each other on a deep level.

  He’s thinking that was fucking amazing, and he’s right. He’s also thinking that once is not nearly enough, and that’s true as well. Hell, right now, it feels like a million times won’t be enough.

  Still, my feelings are more conflicted than his.

  Cody’s never been in my shadow. He’s got his own strengths, his own way of leading. But I’ve always been the one who pushes hardest, who acts first and thinks later.

  Sometimes that got us into trouble growing up. With Megan, it couldn’t have turned out better. We’re both still inside her, and I know we’d stay this way forever if we could. We’ve never had a more perfect experience with a woman. Not even close.

  Cody’s reveling in that, and so am I. But there’s a part of me — just a part — that wants to kick him out of the bedroom and keep Megan for myself.

  I love my brother. And until this moment, I would have sworn that nothing could ever affect that. I never imagined that I could feel so fiercely possessive of a woman.

  We’ve gotten lots of action since we hit our teens. We respect women, we treat them well, but it’s also easy to take them for granted.

  This is different.

  Something happened between Megan and me while I was looking into her eyes. It sounds sappy as hell, the kind of shit I’d roll my eyes at … until it happened to me. We connected in some kind of deep fucking way, and part of me doesn’t want anything, or anyone, interfering with that.

  Not even Cody.

  But even as I think it, I know it’s not that simple. I try to imagine if it had been just Megan and me in this bed. How would it have gone? It would have been good, probably great, maybe even amazing … but not at all on the level of what just happened.

  We brought her there together, Cody and I. She was looking into my eyes while both of us were fucking her, and what happened between us can’t be set apart from my bond with my brother.

  She belongs to me — but she belongs to him, too. Which means both of us are keeping her, because I know in my bones that the seismic shock that just hit me rattled Cody just as hard.

  Sharing a woman who means something — hell, who might mean everything — we’ve never had to negotiate that. Sometimes we score solo and sometimes we do it together, but we’ve always been in it for the fun. No commitments, no harm, no foul.

  But if Cody’s feeling anything like what I’m feeling — and knowing my brother the way I do, I’d bet serious money on it — we’ll both want time alone with her now and then.

  Which is fine. We’ll work it out, because that’s what we do. And the world is just going to have to deal with us, because neither one of us is letting her go.

  I meet his eyes again. He’s been waiting, patiently, for me to work things out. We look at each other, and we smile. No words needed.

  Now we just have to explain to Megan what she’s gotten herself into. Because if she thinks this is a fling, she’s very, very wrong. We’ll show her exactly how wrong, until she understands she belongs with us.

  I’ll Call You

  Megan

  The twins are still inside me, still partially hard. They’re touching me, softly, gently. It feels good. I feel safe, and warm, and secure with them.

  Except for the fact that I’m totally panicking.

  My eyes are closed, the better to hide my feelings while I try to think of a way out of this. If they wanted me gone they’d be doing something about it. Right? Uncoupling from me, getting rid of their condoms in the bathroom, telling me, “That was great, babe, let’s do it again sometime.”

  They’re not doing any of that. I know in my gut they want more, want me to spend the night, to do everything that a woman can possibly do with two strong, creative sexual powerhouses.

  Which is exactly what I wanted when I got here … but it’s no longer even a remote possibility. In fact, it’s a total non-starter.

  For me, impossible as it sounds, there’s only one way to describe what we just did: making love. I didn’t just give my body to them; they got my heart and soul in the bargain. And if I give them any more of me, I’ll be lost.

  Maybe they felt something too. But even if they did, I know the score. They’re hot young studs out to conquer as many women as possible. They may not be finished with our one-night adventure, but all I am to them is another conquest.

  I knew there was a chance I’d fall for them. But I never thought I’d fall so hard, so fast, so completely. If I don’t get away from them, my heart will shatter into so many pieces that I’ll never heal.

  I’m not just protecting myself; it’s not fair to them, either. They’ve been nothing but honest with me, and they don’t deserve the guilt of realizing they’ve messed me up. God knows they didn’t mean to.

  For all our sakes, I have to escape. I can never let them see, let them know what they’ve done to me. Instead, I’ll lock it all away, in my deepest, most secret vault, and only take it out when I’m alone and no one can see my tears.

  Summoning all my willpower, I open my eyes.

  Cody’s watching me. I’ve had the feeling, the last few moments, that he and Brock were having one of their silent conversations. I don’t know why I felt that, exactly; it was like the air around us got a different energy to it. It’s very strange, to think I might have become that attuned to them.

  Whatever they were communicating — if they were — his face is serious now. “Hey, babe,” he says quietly.

  “Hey.” My voice is very soft, and I hope they can’t hear the emotion behind it. But the twins are far too perceptive.

  Behind me, Brock goes up on an elbow and brushes the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “You all right, sweetheart?”

  The endearment almost undoes me. I blink my eyes
against the tears that suddenly threaten. “I’m fine,” I say, and my voice sounds almost normal except that I’m hoarse from screaming. “Maybe a little thirsty.”

  I manage a smile, and thank goodness they both take their cue. “We’ll get you some water,” Cody says. He kisses me softly and slowly withdraws. Brock does the same thing, following his brother into the bathroom.

  I’ve never felt so empty.

  They’re back far too soon for me to rein in my emotions or work out an excuse to leave. “You want anything besides water?” Brock says, and I shake my head. The twins exchange one of their looks. “We’ll talk when we get back,” he says, and then they’re gone, heading for the kitchen.

  I slide off the high bed as soon as they’re out of sight, wincing a bit at the soreness between my legs. I almost collapse to the floor, my legs are so shaky. Moving as quickly as I can, I find my clothes and pull them on.

  Tiptoeing down the hall, I hear low voices in the kitchen. I know they’re talking about me even though I can’t hear the words. My purse is near the door, where I dropped it when we got started. I yank my phone out and text Tara.

  I need you to think of some urgent reason for me to leave. Text it to me, wait 30 seconds, then call. Hurry.

  Handling things this way makes me feel terrible, but what else can I do? I hear water running in the kitchen. They’ll be out here any moment.

  My phone beeps. Tara, dependable as ever, doesn’t ask any questions, just sends me an angst-filled message about her little sister Kendra being in the hospital and they’re not sure what’s wrong and she’s so sorry to intrude but she’s freaking out and can I please come? It’s so convincing, I have a moment’s panic that maybe it’s true.

  I look up at the sound of footsteps. The brothers are back from the kitchen, carrying large glasses of water. They didn’t bother with clothes, and I’m momentarily distracted by their beauty. They take in my fully-dressed state and their jaws tighten.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say before they can speak. “It’s Tara—” my phone rings on cue, and I answer it. She turns in an Oscar-worthy performance on the other end, and I don’t even have to pretend to put worry in my voice.

  “I’ll be right there,” I promise her before I end the call, then turn to face two very unhappy brothers. “I’m so sorry,” I say again. “It’s Tara. Her sister was taken to the hospital.”

  I feel so guilty about lying to them like this. I only hope they’ll never find out.

  “Which hospital is it?” Brock says. “We’ll take you.”

  “Zoe’s already on the way,” I say hastily. And she is; Tara worked that into her side of the call. She lives closer to the twins than Tara does, and she’s not afraid to drive like a crazy woman. “She’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  There’s a pause, and then Cody comes to me. Something in his eyes makes me uncomfortable, but I’m not sure what it is. All he does, though, is hand me a glass of water and say, “Drink.”

  More guilt. “Thank you,” I whisper, and because I really am thirsty, I focus on drinking the whole glass. No one speaks, and the silence is not an easy one.

  By the time I finish it, my phone beeps again. There’s a message from Zoe that says only, I’m downstairs. I hand my glass back to Cody. “Thanks,” I say. “I better get going.”

  I’d hoped they’d say something, anything to make this easier, but they’re still quiet, their faces almost grim. My stomach ties itself in knots as I pick up my purse, slide my phone inside, and cross to the door. Just as I get it open, Cody says, “Megan.”

  I turn back. There’s the same look in his eyes that I saw when he gave me the water. And then he says, “You were already dressed when she messaged you.”

  I feel the blood drain from my face. Damn it, do they have to be so smart? “I have to go,” I manage to say, turning away again. “I’ll call you.”

  I have no intention of calling them. I hope it’s the last lie I’ll ever have to tell them.

  I half expect them to come after me while I wait for the elevator, but they don’t. I don’t allow myself to look back when I leave the building; I just get into Zoe’s car, which is waiting right outside the entrance.

  “Go,” I tell her, and she drives away. I wonder if the brothers are watching me. The passenger seat presses uncomfortably against my tender flesh, a reminder of what I’ve just walked away from.

  “Megan—” Zoe starts.

  “Not yet. I’ll tell you both when we get there.”

  She shoots me a swift, worried glance. “Tell me one thing. Do we need the cops?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “No, it’s not like that.”

  “All right. Tara’s waiting at my place; I told her to bring the margarita mix, and girl, you are going to spill it all.”

  I can’t argue with her. I’m barely holding it together. She drives on through the gathering dusk, and I try not to think about the pain in my chest.

  Electric Blue

  Megan

  It’s Tuesday before I stop being sore. And every time I feel the ache between my legs, there’s a corresponding throb in my heart.

  I knew I’d miss Brock and Cody, but it already hurts more than I expected.

  The experience they gave me was amazing, but it was so much more than physical pleasure. I felt cherished and protected and … loved.

  But I know it’s not really love, no matter how it felt. I know they’re just extremely good at pleasing women. And I also know my heart will hurt even worse if I spend any more time alone with them.

  Besides, it could never work. The world would never accept a relationship like ours, especially not with the twins being in the public eye the way they are — never mind my father’s reaction if he found out. It’s for the best, even though right now it feels anything but.

  I meet Tara and Zoe for lunch again, this time at a Greek restaurant we all like. Even though I have savings, they insist on buying, telling me to keep my money for when I move into my own place. They do their best to cheer me up without mentioning the brothers, and by the end of our meal they’ve got me laughing. I’m so thankful for them.

  When I get back to my dad’s house, there’s a shiny electric-blue Mustang sitting in the driveway and a car parked at the curb. A man wearing a windbreaker with the name of a local Ford dealership on it gets out of the car. “Megan Turner?”

  I stare at the car, then at him. “Uh, yes?” I finally remember to say.

  He holds out a set of keys. “Congratulations on your new car.”

  I take a step away, and his brow wrinkles in confusion. “That isn’t my car,” I say.

  “Yes, it is.” He holds up the packet in his other hand. “Title and registration are in your name. The plates will be arriving from the DMV.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding.” There’s a burning in my chest that makes it hard to speak.

  I know who’s responsible. My dad loves me, but he wouldn’t go out and buy me a new car without talking to me, let alone a top-of-the-line Mustang. The twins have done this.

  Part of me wonders if they buy cars for every woman they sleep with. Is this just standard operating procedure for them? How do they think I’m going to explain this car to my father?

  “I’m sorry,” I tell the Ford guy again. “I’ll have to ask you to return the car to the dealership.”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t do that. This is a completed transaction. The car is yours.”

  My temper spikes. Ignoring dealer guy, who’s looking at me quizzically, I pull out my phone. Both guys texted me yesterday, and I responded but kept things light. Cody asked me rather pointedly how Tara’s sister was, and I winced as I answered that she was okay now.

  Today, my phone has been conspicuously silent and now I know why; they’ve been out buying me a freaking car. Pulling up Brock’s number, I stab the call button.

  When he answers, I don’t beat around the bush. “Are you and Cody responsibl
e for the Mustang?”

  Fortunately, he doesn’t try to deny it, and my tone lets him know I’m not calling to say thank you. “Babe, you need a car. Don’t be stubborn.”

  I ignore how sexy his voice sounds, so deep and masculine. I grit my teeth and continue, “I can’t accept it. I need you to take it back.”

  “Not happening,” is his immediate response. “Don’t worry, though. We’ll still give you a ride anytime you want.”

  I’m temporarily distracted by memories of our taxi ride, but I push those thoughts aside and fire back at him. “How am I supposed to explain to my father where it came from?”

  “We’ll talk to him, explain that the wreck was our fault and the new car is our apology. It’ll be fine.”

  His tone is soothing, which infuriates me more. The only move I have left is to up the stubbornness level. “I’m not driving that car, Brock.”

  “Suit yourself. Bye.” And then he’s gone. The curt response leaves my heart feeling bruised … and makes me wonder if I’ve hurt his feelings. But really, what am I supposed to do? They can’t just go around giving me cars.

  With a sigh, I turn to the man from the dealership, who’s standing there watching me, and hold out my hand. “I’m not driving it,” I say as I accept the keys and paperwork.

  His expression says that I clearly have a few screws loose. “Whatever you do with it is up to you,” he says, a politer version of Brock’s response. “Have a nice day.”

  When he’s gone, I go inside and leave the keys and everything on the kitchen counter. Then I change my mind and shove it all away in a drawer. The last thing I need is the temptation to climb into that sweet, sweet ride and take it for a spin.

  Neither of the brothers messages me for the rest of the day, until that night when they suggest we get together. I tell them I’m too tired from job hunting, and the following night, when they invite me again, I say I’m going to be with my friends. Thursday night, out of excuses, I don’t answer at all.

  By Friday, they’ve had it. For once, I’m glad to still be at my dad’s place, because if I had my own apartment I know they’d be at my door, demanding I talk to them. They can’t do that here without Dad catching on. But they make their feelings known all the same.