So Mary and Doug had taken me in, raising me to believe that I was Tina’s twin, while my real sister was Violet Golden, the girl in the video. When Elaine and Mark Golden asked for me back, Mom and Dad ignored the requests, instead making off with us, moving multiple times, an itinerant childhood to say the least.
But despite wanting to keep me, the secrecy wore them down. I was nothing like my sisters and Mary never developed a real parental feel for me, instead always treating me like an outsider, an intruder in my own family. As a result, I grew up with a bitch of a personality, a chip on my shoulder, never feeling loved, never feeling safe for some unnamed reason.
The strain had been too much and Dad had taken off, unable to deal with the stress of multiple lies, moving all the time, the generally poisonous atmosphere. Mom had been left with the four of us and her wrath was often directed at me.
“Apologize to Tina,” she commanded after another infraction. “Say you’re sorry to your sister.”
“But I’ve done nothing!” my eight year-old self protested. “It was just an accident and look, Tina spilled syrup on me,” I said, my hair sticky with molasses. The tangled part was going to have to be chopped off, leaving me with a comically lopsided bob.
“Say you’re sorry Jenna, or I’ll come over and tear out your hair myself,” Mary hissed.
And so I’d grown up bullied even within my own family, nobody ever taking my side. Was it a miracle that I’d survived? I’d needed to be a bitch just to defend myself, to get by in a world that was skewed at the most basic level.
But I’d worked to fix things as an adult, recognizing that I couldn’t survive long-term with a bad personality. Modeling, of all things, had taught me that, taught me humility, that my looks were fleeting, that there was more to life than self-protection.
And the difference in sorting out this mess was really Rafe. The big man had taken charge and I was eternally grateful. Stunned by the revelation of my birth, I’d been a shell, unable to function, collapsing in on myself.
“Rafe, what do we do next?” I asked in a whisper.
“Well, I know what I want,” he said, one brow arched wryly. He’d swooped down on me with a kiss, his lips covering my reassuringly, that big bulk shielding me from the terrors of the world.
And I was eternally grateful. I didn’t think I could survive another day without him, my life had become a hellhole and Rafe’s presence soothed me, acting as a bulwark against the horror of discovering my real past. I was an orphan essentially, Elaine and Mark Golden long since dead.
But the alpha male had taken command of the situation with force and vigor.
“Call MGC Agency,” he’d barked into his phone. And we’d flown up to San Francisco immediately, his authoritative air demanding respect when that bitch Deborah welcomed us into her office.
“Mr. Connor,” she breathed. “What an unexpected surprise! We never thought that the CEO of Levast Corp. would visit a modeling agency in person. Jenna,” she said nodding to me, her expression insincere and simpering.
He didn’t respond to her compliments.
“MGC is signing Jenna Walsh again,” he said. “Immediately. Now.”
“But we can’t,” prevaricated Deborah. “We don’t do porn stars, it’s not in our image, it’ll just bring us down.”
“Do it,” he’d growled. Rafe didn’t even get into an explanation of why or why not, but I guess it didn’t matter. Like magic, a contract appeared and I was a working model once again, albeit one without any jobs.
“Promote her,” he growled angrily at Deborah. “Putting Jenna into magazines and shows is your number one priority going forward.”
“Of course,” murmured Deborah obediently, her eyes flashing at me curiously. “I’m sure Levast will book her for its shows?”
“Absolutely yes,” said Rafe. “And your cut’s only going to be 2%, take it or leave it.”
Given that Levast was a huge potential client, MGC took it and my career was restored. I had shows to walk, photo shoots to be at, my face appearing on national magazine covers once again.
“But what about Violet? What about the porn?” I asked plaintively. “I want people to know that it wasn’t me, that I’m not dirty like that,” I said. It was true. I felt this was essential to reestablishing my image, to clarify that I’d been the victim of a maleficent plot and unlucky past.
“Baby, this is going to be tough to swallow,” said Rafe soothingly, “but no one’s going to believe that it wasn’t you in the video. Who would believe claims of a long-lost identical twin? It’s so far-fetched that it’s better to just wait it out. Don’t worry, with Levast at your back, your career will be back on track within weeks.”
“Are you sure?” I said cautiously. “There were a lot of gleeful people gloating at my demise after that video came out. Besides, couldn’t we trot Violet out for some talk shows or something? People can see with their own eyes that she’s real.”
Jake shook his head slowly. “Listen honey,” he said, tracing my cheek with one big finger. “I know how much you want to reveal the truth, but you’ll be okay, just let this blow over on its own. Look at Frederick Ecklund. That loser did porn and now he’s a millionaire real estate broker with his own TV show and book deal. You’ll be fine,” he growled, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I promise.”
And I sighed, leaning into my man. I hoped it would be true, prayed it would be true because I had another miracle to share.
“Rafe,” I said. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, I really do, but why? Why did you appear out of the woodwork to save me when you could have left me to suffer?”
“Because I realized that you had more to offer than I’d given you credit for,” he said simply. “You’re sensuous, beautiful, intelligent, and everything I’m looking for. I’d been stupid, never giving you a chance to explain the nudie pix, immediately assuming that you were a liar, hiding all sorts of bad shit in your past. But now I know that it wasn’t your fault,” he said emphatically. “Especially since the identical twin stuff is actually true,” he replied with a wry smile.
And I’d sighed gratefully. This was the man I loved, the billionaire with a conscience, who was hellbent on making sure I was comfortable and secure, my state of mind the most important thing to him in an already very busy life.
“Oh good,” I breathed, looking lovingly into his dark eyes. “Because there’s a baby on the way … your baby, Rafe. You’re going to be a father.”
The big man sat back stunned. Looks like I got the last word in after all!
Epilogue
Rafe
One year later.
“Oh!” she squealed as a I reamed her. “Oh oh oh!”
“Shhh sweetheart,” I soothed, whispering into her ear. “The baby’s in the next room you’re going to wake her.”
Jenna looked up at me, her blue eyes dazed and sensual, hardly able to think beyond the pleasure that my rod was inflicting.
Because we’re married now, settled in with a beautiful daughter. But that doesn’t mean that I haven’t stopped desiring her, this little woman whose body I watched grow large with my child.
“Open,” I murmured into her ear, and the blonde obeyed wordlessly, her eyes pleading with me. I knew what she wanted. With a lascivious grin, I stripped off the condom, throwing the latex on the ground, and teased my shaft between her dripping slit, massaging those puffy lips with my glans, trailing seed all over that secret spot.
“You want it, don’t you?” I growled sensuously. “You want another baby, don’t you?”
She nodded wordlessly, a sigh escaping her lips even as she spread her legs wider, baring her body to me, giving me her snatch.
And I obliged. Slowly, I began pushing in, her flesh stretching, that pink hole struggling to fit my huge size, the girl wriggling with breathy little pants as she wormed her hips down, desperate to feel me inside her.
As usual, my arousal wasn’t to be denied. I was so massive that my donkey dong
shoved her upwards, her slim hips jerking up even as she tried to force herself down, the veins in my member bulging obscenely, shiny and coated in her kitty juices, pre-come trailing down my wooden shaft.
“Please Rafe,” she breathed. “More, more, more!”
I did it. I grabbed her hips, forcing her down on my pole, jerking her in close until I was balls-deep, my balls hitting her ass, bouncing against those soft cheeks.
Jenna couldn’t keep quiet, not with my hugeness slammed so tight in that curvy body.
“Unnnh!” she shrieked, screaming with pleasure. I gave it to her, deep, true, and unrelenting. I fucked that little body, all golden curves and gleaming skin until Jenna almost passed out from the pleasure, her eyes rolling back into her head, her kitty spasming with orgasm after orgasm, clenching down on my dick, milking me for my come.
Because our life has changed a lot, or at least Jenna’s has. She’s cut off all ties with the Walshes and the Mannings because she was never a part of that bunch. Sure, the Manning brothers are rich as shit and influential, but after that call with Jake, I knew there was no way to heal the wound between my wife and his family.
So fuck it. We were done with them. As a member of the Connor clan, Jenna would be more than okay and had already booked her first show after the birth of baby June. We’d be more than fine, she was heading back to super-stardom as an international model.
But motherhood had been a sweet experience, and I knew Jenna enjoyed taking care of the baby, that she wanted more. And so she’d begged me for this second child.
“Please Rafe,” she said shyly, looking at me through her lashes. “A little boy this time,” she coaxed, “one that looks just like you.”
And how could I say no with her fingers running up and down my cock, stroking me to heaven? I was practically ready to do her right then and there, in the middle of my office during a workday.
So we’re back to fucking with no protection, my sweet girl and I. Our story is crazy, I know … the secret twin, the porn video, the confusing parentage. But our tale is no different from most families when you think about it. The difference is that we overcame the craziness together … always.
* * *
THE END
* * *
Don’t miss Callie’s story next in The Manning Brothers Series. As the youngest Walsh girl, she’s a curvy ball of fire not to be missed!
* * *
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Sneak Peek: #BABYCRAZY
Fiona
Fiona’s just been dumped, but she gets the surprise of her life when her new boss, Dylan Masterson, is her ex’s twin brother!
* * *
I pull the rearview mirror of my car towards myself, craning my neck so I can see the reflection of my face. A little swollen, but not too bad. Nothing that make-up can’t fix.
Because last night I allowed myself to cry and let the disappointment of my breakup with Ricky wash over me, with the resolution of getting up today and getting over it. My face was drawn and pale when I woke up, but with some carefully applied foundation and blush, I looked human and no longer like a corpse.
I’d had my coffee, listened to a cool new album, and dressed myself in my favorite dress and boots - and by now I was feeling pretty fabulous. A new beginning! Having slept on it, I feel like a bit of a fool letting a prick like Ricky upset me like that. Why should I cry over a rude asshole like that? Because he was good-looking?!
No, Fiona. No more, the voice in my head spoke. Ricky was your first hot guy, and if that's how hot guys are, he’ll be the last.
With an air of determination, I open the car door and walk towards the studio. Morning sunshine beats down on my hair, and I take a deep breath because today’s an important day: the president of Karmax Construction will be filming a TV spot at the studio, and it’s my job to do his make-up. It’s not like I’ve never had an assignment for a corporate advertising campaign before, but never one this important. After all, Karmax is huge, and its CEO is supposedly an incredibly charismatic billionaire. If I do a good job today, who knows what could happen afterwards? Maybe we’ll get more jobs. Maybe we’ll get word-of-mouth referrals.
But suddenly, I frown. Didn’t Ricky also work for a construction company? Not that he actually worked, worked. It seemed he frequently overslept and sometimes didn't even bother to show up. But at this point, who cares? It’s not my business. I push that loser out my mind and resolve never to waste another thought on him.
Inside the make-up room, I set up my kit and prepare a small table of refreshments for the President of Karmax, who I’m told will be ready for the make-up chair at 9 a.m. Sure enough, at 8:59 the door flies open with a bang. But this must be some joke because dressed impeccably in an expensive suit is Ricky! My coffee almost drops in shock and I snort, brown droplets shooting from my mouth and nose.
Ricky laughs, a deep, charming ripple that I’ve never heard issue from his lips before.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss at him. “Seriously. What?”
His face drops into a confused, but polite smile.
“I believe I have an appointment with you,” he says in a deep male voice. I’m rooted to the spot, staring at Ricky’s impossibly handsome face. But there’s something off. My eyes practically cross, trying to figure it out. He’s the same, but not the same in infinitesimally small ways. Ricky had a small scar over his left eyebrow – does this man have that? His jaw looks more chiseled if possible, those lips more mobile.
And suddenly, the puzzle works itself out.
“Dylan Masterson,” the man says, reaching out his hand to me in introduction. “Nice to meet you.”
I shake his hand, furiously trying to connect the dots in my head. Masterson? Holy shit. Ricky had mentioned once that he had an identical twin brother, but I’d never met him. This must be him! I can't believe my asshole, deadbeat ex-boyfriend has a billionaire twin brother who’s the President of Karmax!
“I’m so sorry,” I finally manage, blushing. “I thought you were - I thought you were someone else.” I nervously shake his hand and Dylan smiles warmly at me, making my knees go soft. “I’m Fiona,” I quickly add, realizing I haven’t even introduced myself yet. “Please take a seat,” comes my murmur while nervously pulling out the make-up chair for him to sit in.
But the alpha male shrugs it off with careless masculine grace. He settles down and I drape my make-up cape over his expensive suit. As I reach forward to tie it together behind his neck, the inside of my wrist comes very close to his face. He glances up at me, his eyes the same piercing blue as Ricky’s, but so much kinder. I meet his gaze and can’t look away - an electric current travels between us. I can feel it reaching into my insides, turning them to mush, and down my legs, before settling into a tingle in my pussy. Dylan must feel it too because he suddenly clears his throat and turns his face away from my wrist.
“Your perfume’s very nice,” he rasps softly. “A lovely floral scent.”
“I’m not wearing any,” I answer sassily, unable to hide the smile spreading across my face.
He looks back up at me and matches my grin. “Just naturally sweet, huh?”
I swallow, smiling at the compliment but also completely tongue-tied. Since when are hot guys actually nice? But I catch myself. This is work. So I start doing his make-up, whipping out my brushes and paints while fidgeting a bit with the lights and mirror.
But at the same time, I’m intensely aware of Dylan in a way I’ve never been aware of a client before. The way his skin radiates heat as I lean forward to brush his bronzed skin with setting powder. The way those shoulders are so broad, his massive form hulking in the make-up chair. And I can’t get over Dylan’s physical similarity to Ricky – after all, they’re identical twins
, although also different in subtle, idiosyncratic ways. Because Ricky was lazy, rude, and vain. The bad twin was arrogant, and commanded no respect.
By contrast, I’ve only known Dylan for about two seconds and already I can tell that he’s totally different. His straight posture makes him look taller than Ricky, even though they should be the exact same height. He’s gentle and kind, yet commanding, without having to do or say much.
Oh god. My attraction to him is making my hands shake. I hope he doesn’t notice! But I can see from the corner of my eye he’s keeping his eyes on my face as I work. The fact that I’m into him must be obvious as day. I bet Dylan can walk into any room and make women swoon, falling over themselves like idiots. But for him to be into me? No, that’d be a pipe dream. Ricky may have been hot, but he was still a loser, whereas Dylan is clearly nothing of the sort. He’s an alpha prime. What would a man like this want with a brunette with a couple extra pounds?
Suddenly, I’m jolted from my thoughts.
“How do I look?” asks Dylan in deep, gentle voice. I allow myself to meet his gaze and notice that he’s smiling, those perfect lips molded beautifully. His blue eyes are warm and kind, and not cold like Ricky’s. Butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“Um, handsome - very handsome,” I stumble, holding the make-up brush in mid-air, my hand trembling. He smiles and suddenly his hand is on mine, gently enveloping it within his. Even his grip is different - purposeful and confident, not clammy and sweaty like Ricky’s always was. My breath stops in my throat.
Because I have to be careful. Things didn’t end well with Ricky. He was so charismatic in the beginning, but then quickly turned into a prick and dumped me. Why would Dylan be any different? Only this morning I’d sworn I wouldn’t go out with a guy that hot again, and yet here I am, flirting away like a nincompoop.
Just The Tip: A Manning Brothers Novel Page 8
