My Boyfriend's Brother

by Cassandra Dee

  “Let’s hope so,” I giggle, “considering I bought this for you.” With one surreptitious glance around to make sure no one is watch, I grab the hem of my wedding dress and lift it up. My pregnant belly is on full display, but that’s not the point.

  Frisco’s eyes drift lower, past the swell of my stomach, and settle on the crotchless white latex panties I’m wearing under my gown. “Holy shit, Libs,” he says, his whole face lighting up. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

  “I figured it would be a nice tribute,” I giggle again, winking at him. “No one will see these but you, and I couldn’t wait to show them to you.” After all, Club Om might be in the past now, but there’s something deliciously naughty about referencing it on the day of our wedding.

  If Frisco’s reaction is any indication, he thinks so, too. “You’re incredible,” he rasps, pulling me close and pressing his lips to mine. “I meant what I said back there. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

  “Right back at you, Frisco Arrington,” I reply, and mean every word. Then there, in the shadow of the hidden nook, Frisco kisses me passionately again, and this time there are no cheering crowds or cooing relatives to interrupt us. I allow him to consume me, and in that moment, nothing else matters. Whatever the future holds, it will be a bright one with this gorgeous man at my side.

  * * *

  THE END

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  Intrigued by Bo, the gorgeous owner of Club Om? Then pick up his story in Big Bad Boss Daddy, available here.

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  If you enjoyed this tale, then you’ll love reading about Dakota’s romance with Jack Straithmore in The Sweetest Revenge, available here.

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  Sneak Peek: Pregnant By My Stepbrother

  Lina

  Lina’s working as a dancer when she meets a very handsome customer.

  * * *

  The Krazy Kat is busy tonight, but it’s Friday, so that’s not a surprise. I’m sitting at one of the many vanities in the back room, behind the stage. Around me, other girls (I guess I could call them my co-workers) are either getting ready for their sets or preparing to go home. I’m putting on the finishing touches of my makeup when my cellphone buzzes on the table next to me.

  I answer without looking. “This is Lina,” I say into the receiver, trying to fumble open a compact of blush. I’m not one for make-up, but when you dance for a living, you’ve got to have at least some competency when it comes to cosmetics. The voice in my ear buzzes.

  “Hey Lina. It’s Rochelle. I’m glad I caught you before your set.” I sigh. Roche is a decent person, and she manages a lot of curvy girls in the area who specialize in almost everything: modeling, acting, and yes, even stripping. I’ve worked with her for almost a year now, and she alternates between boss, mother-figure, taskmaster, and best friend.

  “Hey Roche, what’s up?” I ask.

  “I’ve got another gig for you next weekend if you’re interested.”

  “Ummm,” I hem and haw. I don’t want to jump on it because I can tell she’s holding something back.

  “It’s at Aphrodite’s.”

  I sigh. Aphrodite’s is an all-nude club, whereas I’m more of a bikini dancer as opposed to a full-fledged stripper. I just don’t want to take it all off because I want to save myself for someone special, even if that someone special hasn’t shown himself yet. Rochelle knows that too, and I don’t want to get into this discussion with her again, so I merely tell her that I’ll think about it.

  “Alright, Lina, well you know that if you want it, I’ll set it up.” She hesitates before hanging up. “I know we’ve been over this, but you’d make more money if you took everything off, Lina. No one pays that much for bikini dancers. It really doesn’t even compare.”

  I grimace.

  “I know, Roche, I know. I’m just not ready for going all the way yet. Listen, I appreciate the opportunity, okay? I’ll text you tomorrow with an answer, but I have to go. It’s almost time for me to get on stage.”

  She murmurs something, and then we say our goodbyes and I hang up. I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair. It’s normally brown and curly, but I spent the last hour and a half straightening and then re-fashioning my locks into long, gleaming, glamour waves. The tresses fall to my middle back and I love flipping it around, but it’s such a pain to get it to this state, so I only wear it like this for my dancing gigs.

  The door opens and a fellow dancer, Marlene, comes bouncing in. She’s got curly red hair and bright green eyes, and is a curvy girl like me. Marlene works at the Krazy Kat full-time, and we’ve been friends since she saved me from a crotchety old man who cornered me in the parking lot. I still remember the way his breath stank of alcohol as he tried to force me to get into his van for a “quickie,” but the redhead appeared just in time and scared him off with some choice words. I still feel like I owe her for that night.

  “Hey, Lina,” she chirps, sitting at the vanity next to me. She’s skimpily dressed in a pair of booty shorts that cling tightly to her waist and a tiny bikini top that basically hides nothing. Her shoulders glimmer with a fine sheen of glitter. “You’re up after Christa, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I say, running mascara over my false lashes. “Why?”

  She grins before dabbing at her chest with a couple of Kleenexes. “Because I was worried you’d miss out on him.”

  “Miss out on whom?” I ask, only half-listening.

  Marlene lets out a happy giggle.

  “There are some gorgeous guys out there tonight, and if I weren’t with Mike, I’d ask one of them to take me home.”

  I cap the mascara and give her a droll look. Most of the time, our customers are middle-aged, pot-bellied guys who like their beer cold and their women hot.

  “Really?” I ask. She nods happily.

  “Yes, and I’m not joking. Listen, just make sure you really pump your booty tonight because there’s an especially gorgeous guy in the back. He made me drool, he’s so fiiiine!”

  I shake my head and smile. Mike, Marlene’s boyfriend, is an old, toothless ex-con. She’s a beautiful girl who could probably have her pick of the men of the town, but she’s crazy about him. “Hot” could mean anything when it comes to Marlene. It could mean grandpa with a long white beard, or it could mean swashbuckling billionaire who looks like Matthew McConaughey. The possibilities are endless. My friend can tell that I’m not convinced, but before she can say more, I’m called away because Christa’s finishing up and it’s almost my turn.

  “Break a leg,” the sassy redhead giggles. “And remember what I said. In the back left corner! You can’t miss him!”

  I merely smile and check myself one more time in the full-length mirror before heading on stage. I’m wearing a white blouse, a red plaid short skirt, a matching tie, and red stiletto heels. I have a red begonia from my shop pinned to my headband because my stage name is “Petal,” so I always have a blossom as part of my costume. But the truth is that flowers have a special meaning to me because it’s what I hope to pursue in life. I only dance at night; during the day, I work at Amazing Blooms, a flower shop in Prescott. Actually, I own the store, and Amazing Blooms is my baby.

  But starting up a business is hard, and I had a lot of bills that piled up quick. There was the deposit to my landlord (not to mention monthly rent), as well as fixtures, furniture, insurance, and inventory. As a result, I haven’t made enough to stay afloat, so I need to dance on the side to make ends meet. But I was careful when I started looking for a second job. I only auditioned at a few clubs, and I made sure they were a good distance from Prescott. As a result, I have to drive half an hour to get to the Krazy Kat, but it’s unlikely I’ll see anyone I know.

  “Next up i
s the curvaceous Petal! Put your hands together for a lovely girl who smells like a honeysuckle mixed with carnations!” the MC booms.

  The introduction is silly, but I prance out on stage, my hair bouncing around my shoulders, and the men whistle and clap in appreciation. I give them a wink and turn my sizable ass toward them. My skirt just covers it, but the moment I start dancing, that’ll change. My music begins, and it’s a slow rendition of “Toxic” by Nina Nesbitt. Perfect.

  I move my body to the music, allowing the tune to meld my muscles to its beat. I swing my hips sassily, and then sinuously stride to the gleaming pole in the center of the stage before wrapping my legs around the metal and pulling myself upside down. I’m a curvy girl, but I’m strong too, and sure enough, my skirt flips over, revealing my big bottom. But then, my breath seizes because I’ve caught a glimpse of him. Sure, I’m upside down, but there’s a dark shadow in the corner, and he’s unmistakable: an incredibly handsome man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

  Oh wow, Marlene was right. He’s unbelievably good looking with a strong profile, square jaw, and an athletic build. Long legs in dark pants are tucked below the table, and his shoulders are broad, with powerful biceps crossed over his chest. The moment his eyes meet mine, I flip over once again and catch myself again with my thighs, leaning back in a cross-ankle release. Then, I slide down sinuously, dragging my curves against the gleaming metal.

  That little stunt makes the man blink. Good. As my stilettos hit the ground, I squat and pump my ass up and down to more applause. Twerking works well when you have a juicy bottom, and I work it for all it’s worth. Then, I flip my hair over my shoulder coyly, again meeting the stranger’s eyes. He looks more like the cool, hard-to-read type, but at the moment, his blue eyes are glowing with heat. Electricity runs through my limbs as I slowly trail my palm from my thighs over my waist, up to my neck and through my hair.

  Then, the pace changes. I grip the front of my blouse and rip it free, revealing my red lace bra. I drop to my knees, swinging my hair around, and then crawl toward the edge of the stage like a woman in heat. Then I do something that I’ve never done before: I abandon the rest of my routine and drop from the stage to the audience floor. There’s an audible gasp as I begin dancing mere feet from the customers. After all, these guys know me and my routine generally stays strictly in-bounds.

  But tonight, I’m feeling wild. Swaying my hips, I dance sultrily towards the black-haired man as my assets bounce, letting my plaid skirt drop along the way. Now, my curves are encased in the tiniest bra-and-panty set, and my Double Ds bounce furiously, threatening to burst free at any moment.

  When I finally get to the stranger, my breath catches because he’s even more gorgeous close up. The man has to be at least six foot four, dressed in dark jeans and a dark shirt, and he’s got blue eyes that remind me of molten cobalt. In time to the music, I walk around his chair while dragging my fingertips across his broad shoulders like a tease.

  The man stiffens, although I can see it’s a good type of tension. He definitely wants more, but then the song ends, and I smile sultrily at him.

  “Got something for me, big boy?” I coo.

  He starts, but then opens his wallet and pulls out a hundred dollar bill. Perfect. The man reaches over to the waistband of my bikini bottoms, but I do him one better.

  “No, put it here, big boy.”

  With that, I tilt my hips invitingly, showing off my thong. Then, reaching between my legs, I pull the crotch of my panties aside so that he can slide the bill in that space. A dark flush descends on his cheekbones, but he doesn’t hesitate. Immediately, the money goes where it’s supposed to, and I snap the lace back in place.

  “Thank you,” I smile coyly. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  Then, I toss my hair over my shoulder and saunter back to the dressing room, collecting the money that the men have dropped for me along the way. As soon as the curtain swishes shut, Marlene squeals and hugs me tight.

  “Lina oh my god!” she screams. “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “You saw, did you?” I ask ruefully, my cheeks flushed.

  “Hell yeah, I saw. Good for you, girlfriend! Way to ratchet up the heat!”

  I laugh, although I’m panting with shock now. I can’t believe I was so wanton either, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.

  But Marlene has ideas.

  “Soooo, what are you going to do about it, girlfriend?”

  I shrug.

  “Probably nothing. Why?”

  The redhead makes a face.

  “Are you crazy, Lina? That guy wants you! He’s an open wallet at this point.” I roll my eyes, but my friend scolds me. “Don’t be so high and mighty, girlfriend. We’re here to make money, so don’t forget that. Come on, you have to! Besides, he’s hot and he wants you, so the stars are aligning. You have to thank him.”

  I purse my lips.

  “I already did.”

  “No, really thank him, Lina! Oh my god, you’re so clueless!”

  The thing is, I know what Marlene is getting at. We’re supposed to “work it” between sets, meaning that we’re supposed to go out and chat with customers when we’re not dancing to get them to buy over-priced drinks and maybe even a lap dance. But I hardly ever do because it just makes me feel uncomfortable, and my reluctance annoys management to no end. Unfortunately, Marlene has a point tonight, and she’s not taking no for an answer.

  “Go,” she hisses, practically pushing me back through the curtains. “This is a golden opportunity, Lina. You can do it!”

  Before I realize it, I’ve stumbled up to the handsome customer once more. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing, and I can’t believe this is actually happening.

  “Um, hi,” I stammer.

  He looks amused as that blue gaze travels from my face to my breasts, my exposed stomach, and finally to my thighs before slowly heading back up. “Hey yourself,” he drawls, setting his drink on the table.

  I open my mouth to say more, but my mind goes blank. Damn. This guy is really movie-star gorgeous with his straight nose, high forehead, and sensuous mouth. His jaw is firm, and those piercing blue eyes seem to have an energy of their own. Like a bumbling schoolgirl, suddenly I have no idea what to say. I fidget uncomfortably as I try to think of something, anything, and then spot his drink on the table.

  “What are you drinking?” I ask in a rush. He grins.

  “Rum and Coke.”

  I step closer to him, so near that my hips are inches away from his form and take his glass. Then I take a sip, my eyes never leaving his. I don’t like the taste of hard liquor, but the bartender mixed this drink just right, and the Coke has that familiar burn, cut by the dryness of the rum. I lower the glass back to the table and lick the corner of my mouth. His gaze sharpens and focuses on the darting movement.

  “Did you come back here just to drink my booze?” he drawls.

  I giggle. I know my face is bright red, but I hope the club is too dark for him to tell. “Maybe,” I say, “or maybe I just wanted to thank you for your tip. The booze is just a bonus.”

  He nods.

  “So what’s your name, sweetheart?”

  I giggle. “Petal.”

  The handsome man grins with amusement. “Really, Petal, hmmm? Well, I like it actually. It suits you.”

  I giggle again.

  “You think?”

  He nods.

  “In fact, I’d love to know if your skin is as soft as a petal. May I?”

  I still, barely daring to breathe because his hand is poised a mere few inches above my arm. Does he want to stroke my skin? I nod, excited but also on edge. This is so alluring, yet also totally beyond my ken.

  Slowly, that big bronzed hand comes down. He flips my arm over so that my wrist is exposed and gently trails his fingers over my pulse point. My heart rate goes from zero to three million in about two seconds. The blood is pounding in my ears and suddenly, the rest of the club drops away so that it’
s only the two of us.

  “Can we talk somewhere, Petal?” the stranger growls. “Somewhere private, I mean.”

  I gaze into that commanding stare, before swallowing heavily. Then I nod and take his hand.

  “I know just the place,” comes my whisper, and suddenly, I’m leading the handsome man to the private rooms in the back. Oh my god, is this really happening? But as my senses prickle and my pussy moistens, I know this is really going down, and that I want it too.

  * * *

  To be continued …

  Pregnant By My Stepbrother is now LIVE! Pick up your copy here.

  Sneak Peek: Their Secret

  Mona

  The man of the house has had his eye on the brat for a while now, and he can’t ignore her teasing antics any more.

  * * *

  A loud sound startles me awake as I toss around on my fluffy bed. Sitting up, surrounded by a mountain of pillows, I listen intently until the sound reveals itself to be Gray’s shoes moving through the foyer. He’s home, are my thoughts as I roll over and bury my face in the pillows. Seems like that’s starting to happen more and more often nowadays.

  Ever since my mom jetted right after their wedding, Gray has been working like a maniac and coming back really late. I don’t blame him. Kathy leaving so soon was a shock, and the way she did it was crazy too. No note. No nothing. Just one day … gone.

  And at first, I wanted to talk with my new stepdad about what happened. But what is there to say? Kathy is the most irresponsible person on the planet. She’s never taken anything seriously – and unfortunately, her marriage was no exception.