Big Bad Twins

by Tia Siren

  Terry loved oral.

  Tony loved anal.

  Luckily for them, I loved it all.

  Tony’s right hand was resting on my left thigh, and Terry’s left hand was on my right thigh. We must have been quite a sight, lying there like that. I wished Christopher had been awake to snap a few pictures for our private stash.

  Their hands resting on my skin warmed me like a hot towel and brought back a flood of memories from the night before, which would go down in history as the best Christmas Eve of my entire life.

  Don’t worry, you’ll get full details of our night later. For now, let’s just say that every package had been unwrapped and every nook and cranny had been filled with Christmas cheer.

  I lifted my head off the pillow and saw Christopher asleep on the other side of Tony. He was on his side with his back to me. The steady rise and fall of his muscular shoulders told me that he was still asleep.

  I was so happy that Christopher and I were together on this Christmas morning. It had been somewhat of a rocky year for us, and at times I had thought our long friendship might be coming to an end.

  Our relationship was more than a little complicated. We’d never been a couple. We’d never even been on what you’d call a date. But we’d always been there for one another.

  Christopher slept with other women and I slept with other men and women, but we always seemed to come back to each other, like moths drawn to the same erotic flame.

  Christopher once called me his safe haven, the port that he always sailed back to when the seas got rough. And I always welcomed him back with open arms and legs.

  Ours was a relationship with no expectations or judgments or commitments. There was no doubt that we loved each other. We just wouldn’t let that love put boundaries on any part of our lives, sexual or otherwise.

  I gently pushed myself up on my elbows and blew a stray lock of red hair from my forehead. I looked around at the three men who had spent most of the night poking and prodding me and smiled.

  These guys never would have fit into Santa’s bag of goodies. They barely all fit in this bed! And to think I’d had them all inside me at once last night. It was no wonder that I was a little sore this morning—sore in a very good way.

  You’ve heard the saying “no pain no gain”?

  I think it should be “no pain no pleasure.”

  Hmmm, that sounded like something Christopher would put on a T-shirt. He had a collection of ratty T-shirts with snarky sayings like that, which sounded like an odd thing for a billionaire to collect.

  He also collected exotic cars, expensive watches, modern art, and women’s hearts. I’d have to mention my idea to him later when the twins were gone and we were back in bed alone. He’d get a kick out of it, I was sure.

  I wasn’t surprised that I was sore. The female body was a wonderfully pliant thing, but it had its limits.

  A woman’s body could stretch and adjust its various parts on the fly. It could accommodate a ten-pound baby for nine months and then push it out through an opening the side of a grapefruit.

  It could accommodate all manner of objects invading its orifices: vaginally, orally, and anally.

  But when you had three rather large cocks inside you at the same time, well, let’s just say that could stretch the limits of imagination and anatomy just a bit.

  Don’t get me wrong, the pleasure was more than worth the pain. I just might have to give certain parts of my body a rest for a day or two.

  Who was I kidding? If those three guys woke up right now with raging hard-ons, I’d start grabbing things and stuffing them into my mouth like a kid diving into a bowl of candy on Christmas morning.

  Don’t misunderstand me. I was not a slut. And I didn’t think I was a nymphomaniac. I just loved sex. Sex with men, sex with women, sex with men and women at the same time, sex with multiple men and women.

  Here’s another old saying I’m sure you’ve heard: “The more the merrier.”

  Well, when it came to satisfying the fire that burned deep inside me, that old saying was true. I loved quantity and variety and experiencing new things. If that made me a slut, so be it. Life was too short to deny yourself the pleasures it offered. It was like having a bottle of fine wine and only taking a sip before throwing the bottle away.

  Waste not, want not.

  Put that on a T-shirt, my friend.

  I loved twosomes, threesomes, gangbangs, orgies, and sex parties.

  I also loved the black foot-long dildo I kept in my nightstand that I called Samuel L. Jackson.

  Whether I was alone or with someone else, I just loved sex and I would not be denied. Desires and urges were meant to be satisfied, not ignored.

  I loved to come in great waves and make others do the same. Nothing got me off faster than watching a man or a woman coming from something I’d done with my pussy, ass, hand, or mouth.

  I totally believed that it was better to give than to receive, but I loved to receive as well.

  All that said, I was extremely particular about who I had sex with.

  I was not the type to just pick up a stranger in a bar and fuck him in the back of a van—unless I was really drunk and he was really hot—which had been the case with Christopher the night we met.

  The moment I saw him watching me from the other end of that bar ten years ago, I knew he’d be inside me before the night was through. I had no idea we’d still be together so many years later. He’d been a broke entrepreneur and I’d been a college senior. It was nothing short of amazing, how far we’d come.

  I needed to have more than just a sexual connection to someone to truly savor the moment. Take the three guys lying next to me. I’d known Christopher Kinsey for over a decade, and I was closer to him than any other man on the planet.

  I worked as the VP of marketing at his company, Kinsey-Parker Solutions. Everyone called it KPS for short.

  And we were best friends and fuck buddies.

  When he got horny he showed up on my doorstep, and when I got horny I showed up on his. Or he just walked into my office and locked the door and we did it on my desk.

  We also swung together.

  I’d had threesomes with Christopher and his business partner, Patrick Palmer, and a dozen other guys Christopher had introduced me to. The only rule was that Christopher must bring in the other guy. He would not have sex with me and another man he didn’t know. He just said that would be weird. Weird? Seriously? What a goofball he was.

  I’d more than returned the favor by bringing other girls into the mix to please him. But at the end of the night, once everyone else had dressed and gone home, Christopher and I always ended up together.

  I loved him and he loved me.

  Hell, we might have even been in love a little bit, but who even knew what that looked like. Christopher said he wouldn’t know true love if it hit him in the face. Sadly, I felt the same way.

  For now, we did what we did and we had a fucking good time doing it, no pun intended.

  As for Tony and Terry Wolf, I’d known them forever, too. They were college pals of Christopher’s and early investors in Kinsey-Parker, which was how they made their fortunes when the company went public.

  Terry and Tony lived in New York City, so we didn’t get to see them very often. They’d come into town this week to meet with venture capitalists Christopher had hooked them up with.

  Sadly, they hadn’t arrived in time to attend this year’s KPS Christmas party, which, by the way, ended in a fiasco because Christopher had wanted to screw this goth chick named McKenzie Wallace and she punched him in the nose and left him sitting on his ass on the dance floor.

  I’d known it was going to happen. I’d warned him, but he hadn’t listened. McKenzie was not one of us. She was a country girl from back east who was in way over her head. She had thought she wanted to play in our world, so she’d had a threesome with Christopher and Patrick.

  She’d loved the sex, but she couldn’t keep her heart out of the equation. You c
ouldn’t do threesomes and fall in love. It just screwed with your head and broke someone’s heart.

  When she ended up falling for Patrick, Christopher tried to drag me into this grand plan to steal her away. I played along for a while, but when I saw that Patrick was falling for McKenzie, I pulled out of it and told Christopher to do the same. He didn’t want McKenzie. He just didn’t want Patrick to have her.

  What Christopher couldn’t seem to understand was that his best friend, Patrick, was nothing like him. Patrick Palmer wanted to build a monogamous relationship with McKenzie. Christopher Kinsey didn’t have a monogamous bone in his body, which was one reason he and I would probably never go beyond the fuck-buddy stage.

  I hoped that someday I met a man who would ride in on a white steed and sweep me off my feet and make me want to leave my crazy, sexy life behind.

  Someday, I’d be a one-man woman. Until then, Christopher and I would continue to have a good time.

  I quietly sat up in the bed and then scooted to the end and set my feet on the floor. It took me a moment to get my balance. I had one hell of a hangover, and every muscle in my body screamed at me.

  Christopher and the twins didn’t move.

  I resisted the urge to wake them up with a little morning foreplay.

  I tiptoed to the bathroom and stepped inside. I glanced back at Christopher through the crack in the door, hoping he might join me in the shower for a little alone time.

  When he didn’t move, I quietly closed the door and went to shower alone.

  As the hot water washed away the previous night’s sweat and smell and stains from my body, I couldn’t get Christopher out of my mind.

  I had no idea why, but I had this nagging feeling that something had changed between us last night.

  It was that little feeling you got when you knew something incredibly important had happened, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what it was.

  You could only hope and pray that whatever happened turned out to be a good thing.

  End of sample

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  More Steamy Romance by Tia Siren

  About The Author

  Other than my insatiable desire for chocolate, reading and writing steamy romances is my most guilty pleasure.

  I write about tough and sexy Bad Boys who, underneath that armor of muscles and tattoos (and sometimes suits), are more sensitive and wounded than they'd like to admit.

  I'm happily married to a really good guy, but, every now and again, I crave the forbidden excitement of falling for one of the bad boys in my stories.

  There really is a bad girl in me too!

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