Filthy Dirty Brother: A Forbidden Cousins Romance

by Ford, Mia

  “Ok, everyone,” the DJ said. “I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Allan. They will now have their first dance together as husband and wife!”

  Everyone cheered for us.

  “You ready baby?” Sam asked, whispering in my ear.

  “Let’s do it!” I said.

  The music started and we began dancing, rocking slowly back and forth in each other’s arms.

  I found myself reflecting on the rollercoaster ride of the past year. All we’d been through, all that we’d accomplished together, and the way our love had naturally, organically developed. It was crazy to think about and if anyone had told me this was going to happen back then I would have told them they were crazy. Hell, I felt crazy living it half the time.

  But we’d both come out the other side and found happiness, true happiness with each other.

  I couldn’t see the future, or what tomorrow might bring, but I knew that we were going to be together.

  And that was everything.

  37

  Sneak Peak: The Perfect Holiday

  She’s here for her Christmas holiday

  But she might find more than just snow!

  A baby is not even a part of the deal,

  If only plans worked all the time!

  Training the rich to ski and landing hot ski bunnies at every turn is my passion

  This season again I am all ready for my next set of girls at Aspen

  But one look at Bea and I realise, I’m in trouble…

  Her beautiful looks, and those perfect curves steal my heart;

  And one hot night of passion,

  Leads to more than what I bargained for.

  I am not sure I’m even ready for…this baby.

  * * *

  Chapter 1: Cameron

  A few weeks before Christmas

  Traveling as a ski instructor all across the country, from peak season to peak season, was pretty much my dream job, and the most exciting life I could have picked for myself. I had loved to ski since I was a child, competing in Colorado competitions and really throwing myself into it. When it came to choosing a career, ski instruction was already in my blood, having started doing it when I was a teenager. I fell into freelance travel instruction on a whim, with my best friend Glen, and haven’t looked back ever since. This time of the year was my favorite, though, because we were instructing at St. Regis, one of the premier and oldest ski resorts in all of Aspen. This place had it all, from the ski bunnies to the top-notch services.

  “Try not to be your normal self this time,” Glen whispered as we walked toward the Resort Manager, Pierre Bellsworth. “Remember where we are.”

  Bellsworth was a tall man with perfect hair, perfectly groomed eyebrows, a perfectly pressed, extremely expensive suit, and a nervous twitch that I always found it hard to not chuckle at. We were only going to be at this location for a month, but they were desperate to have us here, the resort being three times as booked this Christmas than others. That was good for us since it meant we would receive extra-large bonuses before we left.

  “Mr. Bellsworth,” I said, reaching out my hand for him to shake. “It’s so good to see you. I can tell this last year has treated you well.”

  “Mr. Phase and Mr. Young,” he said, shaking my hand and nodding at Glen. “We’ve missed you here at the resort. Let’s just say my instructors never quite match up to your expertise.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I replied. “We do our best to make sure that all your clients are well taken care of and have an absolutely amazing time on the slopes.”

  “And that is why I always book you well ahead of time.” He smiled nervously. “They are setting up your lodgings, and the front desk will have your keys in just a few minutes. Please feel free to grab a drink at our Shadow Mountain Lodge.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I replied, nodding my head and turning to walk away.

  I walked swiftly across the floor, trying to get out of the way of the massive influx of guests entering and exiting the lodge. I looked around at the ornate décor and marble floors that created a warm, but grand appeal to anyone entering the resort. What I loved most about this place was the concierge service that took care of everything, including delivering the guests right to us at the top of the slope. There were no worries for us at this resort.

  Glen and I walked into the lounge and took our seats at the bar, ordering two beers and relaxing into the chairs.

  “You handled that well,” he said, nodding.

  “I’m growing a bit, I suppose,” I replied with a chuckle. “Besides, I have to know how to handle all aspects of this, so when you finally find that girl you’ve been looking for and decide to bolt on me, I can continue on.”

  “Pfft. Although that sounds nice, I don’t even know where to start.” He laughed.

  “Look around you,” I replied. “This place is packed full of hot little ski bunnies, ready to let go on their vacation away from reality. Take your pick, bro.”

  I met Glen at a ski instruction conference when I was just twenty years old. That meant we had been putting up with each other for eight long years, something that was a feat for me, since I tended to be a bit of a loner. He was smart, attractive, with a square jaw line and that toothpaste commercial smile, but his heart was soft like cotton. He had gotten on a kick about finding true love, and I was just trying to ignore it.

  “Yeah, they’re all absolutely gorgeous,” he said, showing signs of thinking too much. “But don’t you think that we’re getting too old to be sleeping around? I mean, I’m really starting to think that it might just be time to start thinking about settling down. I just want—”

  “Glen,” I said, interrupting and smiling over at a hot girl in the corner, who was flirtatiously twirling a cherry from her drink around in her ruby red lips. “If you acted as much as you thought, you’d have women begging you for your attention. I can promise you, now is not the time to settle down. It’s just the beginning of the Aspen snow season, man, and I’m looking at my future right now. At least, my very near future in my suite. What do you think? You think I can bag that in under an hour?”

  “You’re seriously hopeless.” He chuckled, looking over his shoulder at the girl in the corner.

  “Hopeless, but man, I have a good time.” I laughed, slapping him on the back and starting to walk over to the girl.

  She was sexy, with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, and big pouty lips that she had put my favorite color of crimson lipstick across. Freckles speckled her cheeks and nose, and she was wearing stretch pants and a very low-cut sweater. Her snow boots came up to her calves, and white fur fluffed out at the top of them. She was the definition of snow bunny, and I could feel the vacation vibes emanating from her as she sipped her drink and smirked at me.

  “Hey.” I smiled. “Would you mind if I sat?”

  “Not at all,” she said in a soft, sexy tone.

  “I’m Cameron,” I said, reaching out my hand.

  “Myra,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “That accent,” I said, holding onto her hand. “Very southern.”

  “I’m on vacation.” She giggled. “I’m from Alabama. Huntsville to be exact.”

  “Well, I love a girl with some southern charm,” I flirted. “And how are you enjoying your time here, Miss Huntsville, Alabama? A bit colder than Alabama, I’m assuming.”

  “I thought I was going to freeze.” She laughed. “I find it much more enjoyable to be inside with a hot bath and a fireplace.”

  “Even though I’m a ski instructor and tend to find my enjoyment in the snow,” I said. “Being in a hot bath next to a fireplace with you sounds much more appealing.”

  We sat there talking for a while, and the martinis were definitely flowing for this sexy girl. Glen tapped his watch every time I looked over at him. At exactly fifty-eight minutes before my hour was up, I figured I had lost my bet, but I’d already invested too much time to not see it through. To my surprise, just as that thought crossed my
mind, Myra leaned across the table and perched her lips next to my ear, grasping onto my thigh.

  “Why don’t you come up to my room and let me take care of you?” she whispered, grasping onto my cock.

  “I like the sound of that.” I smiled, glancing over at Glen.

  I stood up, adjusting myself, and handed the bartender my card, telling him to leave it with the guy at the bar and he would sign for the drinks. I reached down, took the girl’s hand, and pulled her toward the elevator. She stumbled a little and giggled before climbing in the elevator and biting her lip. She watched me walk in, shaking my head and laughing. As soon as the doors closed, she was on me, her lips crushed against mine, her hand rubbing heavily against my hardening package.

  We stumbled out of the elevator and to her room, where she tossed open the door and walked inside. I closed the door and locked it behind me. She tossed her bag on the floor and pulled her sweater over her head, laughing. She beckoned me toward her with a curl of her finger. I smiled and did as she asked, closing the distance between us. She kissed my lips a few more times and unhooked her bra, letting her big, fake tits bounce out. Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees, looking up at me as she unbuckled my pants and let them fall to the floor. She pulled my boxers down to my knees and tightly grasped my hard cock.

  I groaned and threw my head back as her big lips slid over the tip. The feeling of her warm tongue swirling around the head shook me to the core. She slid her mouth down and around the shaft, pushing her head all the way to the base before pulling her head back. The suction in the back of her throat threw me completely off balance. I groaned loudly, looking over in the full-length mirror, and I watched her titties bounce and jiggle and my cock slide in and out of her mouth. My hands went down to her hair, and I pulled it back into a ponytail, holding tightly as she slobbered hard on my dick.

  “Yeah,” I groaned.

  She looked up at me, her mouth curving into a smile. She reached her other hand up and rolled my balls around in her palm. I could feel the heat in my stomach beginning to build, watching this sexy-ass redhead deep throat my cock over and over again. She lunged forward, taking it all into her throat and pausing at the bottom, rolling my cock around in her throat. I thrust my hips forward, holding onto the back of her head, and listened to her moan as I took charge of the situation and started to fuck her face.

  I put one hand down on the dresser beside me and grabbed onto her hair, pushing her down and pulling her back up, watching as her eyes watered and her lips moved from smiles to completely full of my dick. She reached her hands down and grabbed her tits, her muffled moaning turning me on even more. I could feel my cock swelling in her throat, and the heat in my stomach turned into a blazing fire.

  I spread my legs farther apart and let her take back over, putting my hands on my hips and focusing on the feeling of my cock deep in her soft throat. Her head bobbed up and down fast and deep, and I dug my fingers into my skin, waiting for the release that was coming soon. Just when I thought I had a couple of minutes still, she started to lash her tongue up and around my shaft, focusing in on one spot right under the head where the nerves were raw and ready. I groaned, reaching down and grabbing the base, watching as she pulled her mouth back and lifted her big tits in the air. I started to stroke my erection with my hand, her slobber providing more than enough lubrication.

  “Come on my tits,” she moaned. “I want to feel it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, fisting my cock hard.

  My hand slipped down one last time, and I grasped tightly to the shaft and growled loudly. Hot streams of my seed shot out in layers over her bouncing tits. She moaned loudly, her red lipstick smeared across her mouth, and rings of the crimson left at the base of my dick. I stroked it for a bit longer, getting the last drops dribbling down her neck. I let out a deep breath, relaxing my shoulders and shaking my head with a smile.

  “That was amazing,” I whispered, pulling up my boxers and pants as she stood to her feet and walked into the bathroom.

  “Why don’t you stay and take a bath with me,” she said, smirking. “There is definitely more where that came from.”

  “Aww,” I replied, groaning. “That sounds amazing, but I have to go to work early tomorrow. Why don’t you give me your number?”

  I was lying. I didn’t have to go to work, but I always made it a point not to stick around too long during these things. She pouted and walked over, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. As she handed it to me, I gave her a fake pout back and kissed her on the cheek. She walked me to the door, and I climbed in the elevator, leaning back against the wall as the doors slid shut. I smiled to myself and looked down at the paper. I shook my head and crumpled it up, tossing it in the small wastebasket in the corner of the elevator.

  Ski Season had officially begun.

  * * *

  Chapter 2: Bea

  I pulled a pot from underneath the cabinet, set it in front of me on the counter, and dumped six cups of water into it. My phone was pressed between my shoulder and my ear, and I listened to Hailey talk about her date two nights before while trying to get dinner started. My boyfriend Grant would be home soon, and he hated it when dinner wasn’t ready when he walked through the door.

  Grant and I had been together for three years, and although he was a bit hard to deal with sometimes, he was a decent man with a good job and a future. I learned to deal with his rough edges, knowing that he worked hard and just wanted certain comforts that any person would want. I was a freelance writer, so I was able to move my schedule around, making time to take care of Grant, which I had to admit was almost like a full-time job. He had a serious temper, and I found it easier to just do what he wanted, rather than fight through one of his explosive tantrums. We didn’t live together, per se, but he came to my house for dinner whenever business didn’t interrupt, and it had become a routine of ours.

  “Why don’t you come out with me tonight?” Hailey really wanted to see me. “It’s Thirsty Thursday at the pub we used to go to. We can relax, let our hair down, and have a few drinks.”

  “Aww, I really want to see you.” I sighed. “And beers do sound amazing, but Grant and I have plans already. I’m cooking dinner as we speak, spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic bread with his favorite kale salad.”

  “You are aware that Grant has two hands and a brain, right?” she asked. “He is more than capable of cooking his own dinner for once.”

  Hailey had never liked Grant, especially after the Christmas incident two years ago where she walked in on him berating me for messing up the ham right before dinner. No one else noticed the different glaze, but he was furious. He was under a lot of stress because that was the year that his boss came to dinner. Either way, she pretty much wrote him off at that point. But as much as I loved Hailey, I knew I had to be faithful in my relationship with Grant because we were together, and it seemed like something that wasn’t going to change.

  “Hailey,” I said with a sigh. “I know he is capable of doing things himself. I just want to stick to my word.”

  “You mean so he doesn’t treat you like a child again? I’m sorry, Bea, I know we’ve had this conversation before.” She sighed.

  “Then just let it go,” I replied, not wanting to argue.

  “All right,” she said. “Letting it go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “For sure,” I replied.

  I hung up with Hailey and tossed the phone on the counter, finishing getting dinner ready. I wanted it all to be ready and on the table when he arrived. By the time I was nearly done putting the last touches on the table settings, Grant walked through the door, putting his briefcase down and taking off his jacket. I smiled and walked toward him, readying myself for a kiss. Instead, he looked over at the table and tossed his jacket in my arms, completely ignoring my ploy for affection. I hung up his jacket and sighed, figuring he was just preoccupied from just getting off work. I walked up beside him and looked down at the spread.

&n
bsp; “I made your favorite,” I said, beaming. “And it just got off the stove, so it will be deliciously hot.”

  I looked back at the large dish of spaghetti still steaming in the pan, lying next to the crispy garlic bread, and two individually plated kale salads with my homemade raspberry maple dressing. My stomach growled slightly, and I realized I had been so busy at work earlier, and then panicked to get dinner ready when I got home, that I hadn’t had anything to eat except for a piece of toast that Grant hadn’t wanted before he left for work. Either way, I was proud of my hard work, and I hoped that he would enjoy it.

  “Yes, it takes a gourmet chef to put together spaghetti and meatballs,” he said with a smirk, sitting down at the table.

  I ignored his comment, but not the hurt feeling in my chest and crossed around, sitting down in the seat on the other side of the table. I held the bread out for him, but he ignored me, going for the spaghetti and meatballs. I set it down and waited, picking at my salad.

  “How do you like it?” I asked.

  “You know,” he said, wiping his mouth. “This reminds me of a lesson I learned at work today. So many people come to my office, so proud of a project that they put together, a project that is absolute shit in my opinion. But today, watching Marcy Bower from marketing beam about her work during our conference, I realized that not everyone is me. Not everyone can work hard and produce brilliant work. I had to learn to humble myself a bit and give them props for a job well done, even if it was something I could do in my sleep. So, thank you for dinner, Bea. You did a lovely job. I can see you are very proud of yourself.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a putdown or a compliment, but it didn’t feel good in the least. We sat silently eating, with Grant occasionally asking me a question, but cutting me off before I could fully answer it. I sipped at my glass of wine, watching him across the table, texting away on his phone. He was completely in another world, lost in the digital conversation he was having with God knows who. Every once in a while, he would smirk or chuckle at the person on the other end of the phone before glancing up at me and tossing his phone to the side, just to pick it back up when the little chime would come through. I was eating dinner to the sound of cellphone rings, but I kept my irritation at bay and just enjoyed my dinner. When his phone rang, I glanced up, watching him answer.