DOUBLE LOVE
An MFM Ménage Romance
© 2019
By Cassandra Dee
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ABOUT THIS BOOK
Double Love: An MFM Ménage Romance
I was desperate for cash, and meeting the handsome twins was the answer to my prayers.
I can’t afford tuition. Not even close. With my measly salary, I can’t even afford food.
So I started dancing at a private club. It wasn’t my first choice. After all, what girl wants to get up on stage and sway to music for an audience?
But after my first night, I met them.
Saxon and Stryke.
Identical twins.
Gorgeous and muscular, and billionaires to boot.
They made me a deal: work for them, and they would triple my earning power.
But what happens when I fall in love with not one, but both alpha males?
Some people say I should run.
Some people say I should hide.
But I want to stay because the twins give me something I’ve always craved desperately: love, times two.
Am I crazy?
Am I insane?
Or am I worthy of double the love?
Hey Readers – You’ll enjoy this rags to riches story of a young woman who finds her place in the world with not one, but two, handsome alpha males. As always, bring a fire extinguisher because you’ll be going up in flames! Enjoy! Love, Cassie
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
DEDICATION
For everyone with a wild imagination.
CHAPTER ONE
Melanie
I looked at the tuition bill in shock. Forty-six thousand dollars for one measly year of school? I couldn’t believe it. More importantly, I couldn’t afford it.
I know I’m lucky in a way. I attend Trinity University, which is an elite private school in Virginia that has strong academics, an amazing athletic program, and a storied past combining the best of Southern tradition with Northern innovation and learning. We’re not Confederate flag-toting rednecks or anything, but a lot of kids here have famous last names, and in Virginia, a last name still means something.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a prominent last name and forty-six thousand in tuition was pretty much impossible. My mom divorced my dad when I was just a baby and we never saw that loser again. She scrimped and saved to raise me and did a good job, truth be told. Mom’s a pediatric nurse at the local hospital and she always made sure I had an excellent education and lots of extracurriculars. As a child, I never felt like we lacked anything.
Plus, a couple months ago, Mom married Sam Jones, a doctor at the hospital she works at. I guess they’d been co-workers for years, and had finally decided to come clean with the romance.
“Melly, aren’t you happy for me?” she asked.
“I am, Mom, I am,” I reassured her, my smile genuine and unforced. And I was happy for her. Years of working night shifts had prematurely aged my mom, and there were creases and lines around her eyes and mouth that deepened every year. Plus, she labored so hard that I hoped that the marriage would give her a sense of security and happiness, lifting her spirits and letting her enjoy life a little more.
And Dr. Jones (I mean Sam) was nice. He was an older guy, divorced with two kids of his own around my age. I’d only met Saxon and Stryke once before, when they were in town visiting. Usually, they lived in California with their mom so our parents organized a special dinner for us to get acquainted before the wedding.
I still remembered it … unfortunately. My mom had forced me to wear a skirt she bought which was way too short. Most moms are trying to make sure their daughters aren’t dressing like whores, but mine’s the opposite. Noreen thinks I need to be more lively, so she’d bought this little pink number which would have been cute had it not ended right below my butt cheeks.
We’d shown up at the restaurant, and I was already self-conscious and trying to pull my skirt down. The wind was drafty and cool between my inner thighs, and I got goosebumps. God, this was awkward. But my feeling of impending disaster deepened when I actually met Saxon and Stryke.
They stood up with their dad when we arrived, and looked nothing like their father. Whereas Dr. Jones was average, a nerdy-looking physician, Saxon and Stryke were twin gods. They had charcoal black hair, so dark that it absorbed light, plus penetrating blue eyes set in rugged, handsome faces. We’d shaken hands awkwardly, and their eyes had been deceptively neutral although I’d felt their gazes skim my body the moment we approached the table.
“So Saxon, Stryke,” said my mom at lunch. “Where are you guys headed after graduation?” Evidently, they were seniors as well at some prep school in LA.
“We’ll probably go to USC or UCLA,” rumbled Stryke, his blue eyes clear and sharp. “We’re really into movie-making and both schools have great film programs.”
“Oh right,” said my mom. “Didn’t George Lucas go to USC?”
“Yep,” rumbled Saxon, “as did Ron Howard, Judd Apatow, and a slew of famous directors and producers,” he said.
I’d been too shy to add much to the conversation, but in a small voice, I said, “Peter Rainier went to USC.”
Both of my soon-to-be stepbrothers turned to look at me.
“I’m sorry, who?” said Saxon smoothly.
It was hard to concentrate when there were two pairs of intense blue beams focused on me. After all, the twins were so handsome, large and imposing in their suits. But I gulped and continued.
“Peter Rainier’s a movie critic,” I managed in a small voice. “I read his reviews in Rolling Stone all the time, and I think cultural critics really add a lot to film,” I added hesitantly. “I mean, who doesn’t check IMDb or Rotten Tomatoes before buying a movie ticket now?”
I smiled at my brothers as they nodded thoughtfully.
“Yeah, that’s true,” said Saxon. “Why, are you thinking about being a movie critic?”
“Oh no,” I blushed furiously. “I’d love to do something related to writing, maybe editing or fact-checking, but I’m too low-key to be the actual star of the show.”
Both my brothers nodded slowly, eyeing me with renewed respect.
“Well if you’re into editing, you might want to check out Cinaeaste or Modern Review,” suggested Stryke. “Both are trade pubs and have a lot of helpful articles about breaking in as an editorial assistant.”
Hmmm, so my brothers weren’t just gorgeous, they had brains too. They were headed off into Hollywood, a notoriously competitive arena, but weren’t going to try and cash in on their good looks. Instead, it seemed they more interested in writing, producing, or directing, and had already begun to research the industry. Very interesting.
The rest of the lunch went well with typical boring chit chat getting-to-know-you type stuff, until the very end. We got up to go, my mom leaning over to give Dr. Jones a kiss goodbye, when Saxon turned to me.
“By the way Melanie,” he murmured. “Your skirt’s tucked into your panties.”
>
I looked down. Oh my god! When I’d come back from the bathroom, I must not have pulled my skirt down all the way, and now the flimsy pink material was tucked into my little g-string, revealing my bare ass cheeks. The strip of lace covered absolutely zero. Even more embarrassing, that lace was darkened with moisture, testament to my heightened arousal around these gorgeous men. Flushed, I hurriedly pulled the material down, trying to cover as much skin as possible.
“Try to wear a longer skirt next time, hmm?” mused Saxon, eyeing me suggestively.
And before I even realized what had happened, Stryke swiped a big palm across my ass, my skin burning as he touched me, that large hand warm and hard. Oh my god, WTF? Had my new acquaintance just copped a feel in the middle of a restaurant? Stryke’s face was calmly neutral, although there was a gleam in his eye. Was this really happening? How could one man stay so calm when he was palming my big bottom?
Just when I was about to believe it was my imagination, Saxon reached between my legs, and lightly tapped the moistness at the crotch of my panties.
“Oh!” I gasped. I wanted to be outraged and scandalized at their bold moves. But it had felt so good, those warm fingers brushing against my secret space, niggling my clit for just a minute before touching my wetness.
Saxon brought his hand to his lips for a second, tasting a bit and sniffing, before smiling at me.
“Aromatic and sweet, just the way we like it,” he murmured appreciatively.
I was now absolutely floored, but fortunately saved by my mom’s clucking.
“Boys, it was so nice meeting you. We’ll see you at the wedding okay?” chirped Noreen. “I’m glad we finally got to get together,” she smiled. Oh my god, what would my mom do if she knew that my stepbrothers had just fondled me intimately, testing my pussy and behind? Would the wedding still be on?
But I decided not to find out. I was headed to college on the East Coast and my soon to be stepbrothers would be on the West. So I smiled politely, my eyes large and my pussy wet, murmuring goodbye to my new relatives, relieved yet tantalized at the scandalous meeting.
CHAPTER TWO
Melanie
Mom and Sam got married in a small ceremony at the hospital chapel. It was really sweet, just the four of us: my mom, my new dad, the pastor, and me as the witness. I have to admit – I was kind of relieved that Saxon and Stryke hadn’t been able to make it. It was finals week at their high school, and their mom wouldn’t let them take any time off from studying. Guess there was no love lost between Sam and his ex-wife.
The wedding was sweet, simple and straightforward. My mom and stepdad hadn’t wanted a huge shindig because it was the second marriage for both, so they kept things low key and low profile. I was happy because my mom’s quality of life was about to improve. With me off to college, Noreen would be free to enjoy her golden years with her new husband.
But unexpectedly, I got a call from Mom while I was strolling around campus. Hmm, odd. I stared at my phone, about to enter my comparative lit class. It was the middle of the day, so why was Noreen calling? She usually works the eleven to eight shift at the hospital. Hopefully, everything was okay.
“Hi Mom,” I greeted her in a puzzled voice. “You okay?
My mom didn’t even hesitate.
“Melly, Sam’s been called to Afghanistan,” Noreen sobbed.
“What?” I gasped. How was this possible? Sam was a doctor, and sure, they needed doctors in Afghanistan, but he was at least fifty years old. Did they ship men in their golden years off to war zones? How had they gotten his name and number anyways?
My mom’s voice was ragged, like she could barely contain her tears.
“Sam’s been in the Army Reserves ever since he finished active duty,” she said. “Active duty was thirty years ago, but you know how he’s so patriotic. He always shows up for those weekend drills required by the Army Reserve. Well, I guess the government paid attention and now he’s been called up,” she said sadly.
“Don’t worry Mom, I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” I reassured her. “Sam will be behind the lines, and probably restricted to the green zone. You know what happens in the camp. They never see any fire. It’s gonna be okay, I’m sure.”
“I’m not sure,” replied my mom tearfully. “I hear medics go out into Kabul with the troops, and you know how Sam is. He’d volunteer for the front line just to make sure his brothers are safe.”
What could I say to that? Although I’d only met Sam a few times, I could tell that my new stepdad was a good guy. He probably would sacrifice himself just to save a mouse, so I made soothing noises.
“Don’t worry Ma, everything’s going to be alright. Just hold tight. How long is his deployment?” I asked.
“A year,” she cried. “And we just got married!”
“That’s no time at all,” I soothed again. “The United States isn’t going to make you into a widow so fast,” I said. Oops, major boo-boo because my mom wailed even louder then. I hastened to correct my mistake, smoothing things over.
“You’re going to be alright, okay Mom? Aren’t you at the hospital right now? Just focus on work, and everything’s gonna be fine. The kids in the children’s wing love you, so don’t let them down just because of this.”
She sobbed a bit more and sniffled, but then calmed down somewhat.
“Thanks Melly. You take care too, okay? How is school? Are the people at Trinity nice? How are they treating you?” she asked.
“It’s great. The people are great,” I reassured her, trying not to sound worried. Because how could explain my situation to her? Trinity is pretty awesome, except for the tuition bill sitting on top of my dresser. I wanted to talk to her about next year’s fees but now didn’t seem like the time given that she was borderline hysterical at the moment. To make things work, Noreen brought up the topic of finances herself. Or more accurately, the lack of finances.
“Well honey, we love you but try to save a little during the coming year okay? Sam’s going to be paid an Army wage, which is almost nothing, and you know how little I make as a nurse. So be frugal okay, baby? Is there any way you could get a part-time job?”
I could almost hear a big steel door clanging shut on my dreams but I kept my voice steady for the sake of my mom.
“Sure, I can find a job, Ma,” I said. “Let me just go to the Student Learning Center and take a peek because they have a job board over there. Don’t worry about a thing,” I promised. “I’ll be okay. In fact, I am okay. You just worry about you and Sam, okay?”
“Thanks baby,” she sniffled. “I appreciate it. And you’re coming home in two weeks, right?”
Oh shit. That’s right, I’d promised to come home to spend some quality time with Noreen after four hectic high school years where we barely saw one another. It’d be my first visit home since starting freshman year, and I couldn’t bail. So I made my voice cheerful.
“Yep, that’s right Ma, I’m going to drive up after class Friday, so see you then!” I said with fake cheeriness. “Looking forward!”
My mom made some relieved noises, and I hung up on a high note. But my chest felt tight, and a cloud of panic was descending on my mind. Not only was my stepdad going to war, but I had no way of paying next semester’s tuition. What was I going to do?
CHAPTER THREE
Melanie
The crowds were raucous and noisy from behind the velvet curtain. I twisted the tie on my g-string and fidgeted uncertainly. This idea didn’t seem so good anymore. What had I been thinking? But my rationale for being at the Donkey Club was all to clear because just last week, I’d been sitting dumbly in my dorm room, staring at the tuition bill again when my roommate Lauren came back from class. She dumped her backpack onto the bed and flipped her blonde hair carelessly over one shoulder.
“Hey Melly, what’s up?” she’d asked, tossing her jacket onto her mattress. It was one of the distressed denim ones, the kind that looks beat-up and semi-dirty, but was actually really expensive. I, of
course, have no clothes that are expensive. Not even sort-of expensive. My stuff comes from Walmart and Target, but it’s okay. It fits my budget, and you can get some really cute stuff so long as you keep your eyes open.
But back to my roommate. Despite Lauren being from a wealthy family, we’d gotten to be friends over the couple weeks we’d been living together. I felt comfortable enough to confide.
“Did you get your tuition bill yet?” I asked in a low voice.
“Oh yeah, that thing,” said Lauren, squinching up her nose. “It was fucking unbelievable right? Forty-six thousand? It’s fucking grand larceny, and that didn’t even include extra fees and housing,” she said.
I shook my head slowly, feeling defeated.
“It’s just that … honestly, I don’t know if I’m still going to be here next year,” I confessed. “My stepdad just got called up to Afghanistan, so he’s getting military pay now, and my mom doesn’t have the cash to make up the shortfall,” I said quietly. “I mean, I love Trinity, but my family can’t afford for me to be here, not really.”
Lauren was silent for a bit. I could understand her awkwardness. As a rich girl, it was probably the first time she was putting herself in someone else’s shoes. She probably didn’t know what to say. But Lauren surprised me.
“Mel, you know I’m not from a wealthy family, right?” she asked slowly. “I mean, I have expensive shit and stuff, but I pay for it myself. I don’t have a Daddy Warbucks. In fact, I’m footing the tuition bill here at Trinity on my own.”
My mouth fell open. Really? Unless she had some kind of trust fund, I didn’t see how any eighteen year-old could afford this school.
Lauren just shook her head.
“I dance, Mel,” she stated. Seeing my look of confusion, she clarified. “I’m a stripper at the Donkey Club in the city.”
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