by Edie Sommers
I cleared my throat and they snapped out of their trance, Jack dropping to his knees before me. Andy skated a hand over my chest, leaving goosebumps, before wrapping me in a firm embrace and consuming my mouth.
Jack cupped the globes of my ass in his hands and dropped a kiss to my belly. I growled in impatience and he laughed. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said, then mouthed my mound through the silk and lace of my thong. Andy cradled my breasts, flicking his thumbs over the tips.
Oh God! Call 9-1-1, because my body threatened to go up in flames. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I hissed, running my hand under Andy’s T-shirt.
He stepped back, a sly smile on his lips, and tore his shirt over his head. Almost before it hit the floor he’d stepped out of his shoes and pulled off his jeans. More slowly he pulled down his boxer briefs, cock springing free of the elastic to slap against his belly.
Want filled every inch of my body, and once more I’d have fallen if Jack hadn’t held me up.
The world tilted and I went airborne, shrieking when Jack lifted me, up, up, up, pinning me against the wall and burying his face in my crotch.
I grabbed the vanity mirror and held on. His tongue! Ahhhh… Had anything ever felt so good? Gripping me tightly, he crossed to the floor and laid me out on the bed, my legs hanging over the side. Andy knelt on the bedside rug, worked the silk to the side, and pushed his tongue between my folds.
Jack glanced down at his brother. Fuck. Now was not the time for jealousy. But Jack merely smiled and rolled his T-shirt up, exposing inch by inch of well-formed chest and more than a smattering of curls.
Andy attacked, making me weak, and I fought the sheer ecstasy and forced my eyes to stay open and take in the show of Jack stroking himself through his jeans and then, tooth by tooth, lowering his zipper in an agonizing strip-tease.
He pulled down his waistband, showing the same type of silky material I’d retrieved from the floor at his and Andy’s place. The thin cloth hid nothing, outlining his bulge to perfection. He pulled the top elastic away from his skin and over the enormous purple head of his cock.
Like his body, his cock was more solidly built than Andy’s, every inch as long, but wider. He kicked his jeans and the underwear off, along with his shoes, then stalked toward the bed, as graceful as a panther.
He knelt next to his brother, using a finger to lift my nipple higher from my bra, and lowered his head. Moist warmth surrounded my nipple, and he sucked, hard enough for me to feel with nearly violent intensity, but not hard enough to cause pain.
Andy lifted my thighs in his hands, sinking his face more fully against the parts of me crying out for his attention. Jack raised his face, joining his mouth to mine and matching me moan for moan while he explored my breasts with his hands.
Two men. My men. Both loving me.
Andy licked and sucked, making my body scream. Electric currents zipped through my nerve endings, searing hot.
Right and wrong flew out the window. They were mine. I… I loved them.
I barely registered Andy pulling down my thong. Jack pulled away and I met the question in Andy’s eyes as he rolled a condom down his length.
In answer, I pushed back, taking the wide head of his cock inside my body. I closed my eyes and groaned. Oh, yes. He felt so damned good, pushing into me, filling me, bringing cries unbidden from my mouth.
Jack chuckled and kissed me, alternating between laving my nipples, gently biting and sucking the perfect spot on my neck, and running his fingers up and down my arms, over my breasts.
Sensation everywhere, their hands all over my body at once. Andy fully seated himself and I whimpered when he drew back, wanting him, craving him, right where he was.
I needn’t have worried. He plunged back into me, again and again, building up lovely pressure with each stroke.
“Oh, God, Cassie, you look so damned good right now,” Jack mumbled, tracing his tongue over the shell of my ear. He sat back on his heels, watching with approving eyes as Andy shifted me on the bed, lifting my ass and angling for better leverage.
Shouldn’t there be some jealousy? But no, Jack watched, eyes dark with lust, as Andy and I shoved into each other, harsh pants, moans and squeaking bedsprings creating a tempo no one could mistake.
I pinched my own nipples, throwing my head back and losing the battle not to close my eyes. “Andy!” I wailed, shudders igniting in my groin and spiraling outward. My orgasm slammed into me, and I wrapped my legs around Andy, riding out the storm.
Opening my eyes, I locked on to his frantic gaze as he reached beneath my shoulders and pulled me up into a soul-searing kiss. He jerked, moaning into my mouth as he came.
Slowly he released me, easing me back down on the bed. He gave me a tender smile and withdrew. I bucked up. “No!” I cried. I wasn’t finished, I wanted more.
“Shh…” Jack said, taking his brother’s place and lifting my legs to rest my ankles over his shoulders. He’d sheathed himself while I hadn’t been looking and my orgasm-sensitive nerves sent me into aftershocks when he spread me open and plunged inside.
White hot passion ignited. Andy hadn’t exactly been gentle, but Jack lifted me up, slamming into me like his life depended on the connection. He squeezed a hand between us, rubbing my swollen clit and sending stars dancing before my eyes.
I turned my head a moment and caught of glimpse of Andy, collapsed in the floor and rubbing his semi-erect cock. Judging from his half-smirk, he’d be ready to go again soon.
I’d be dead come morning, or very, very, very happy.
Andy faded from view and Jack invaded my mouth as he did my body, holding nothing back, giving me all he had.
And he had a lot.
He slid between my slick folds, holding me close, seeming to envelope my whole body in his strong arms.
Inside pressure built again, nothing dimmed for having just come.
Jack grunted into our kiss, and I answered him, slamming back against him, faster and faster until we both stilled.
“Cassie!” Jack shouted, burying himself deep inside me. I held on while he shuddered, his arms the only thing keeping me from flying apart as I joined him in ecstasy.
In a daze I climbed beneath the covers, boneless but so, so sated.
Running water sounded from the bathroom as first one, then the other cleaned up.
“Can we stay?” Andy asked.
I glanced between them. Two pairs of earnest eyes stared back at me. They wanted to stay. They didn’t want to just fuck and run? I held up the covers and my men slipped beneath.
One on each side.
I awoke in the night with Jack’s leg over mine, and Andy’s arm around my waist. Smiling, I drifted back to sleep.
14
No matter how many times I stared out the window, Jack and Andy didn’t magically appear, though my body still tingled in the most delicious ways from last night.
Every time I closed my eyes I pictured Jack or Andy above me, relived their hands on me, and gave a delicious shiver. All day long Darlene had pestered me, but I refused to share. I wasn’t ready to. Not yet.
Last night belonged to me, and to Jack, and to Andy. No one else.
My cellphone chimed with Proud Mary, my mother’s latest ringtone, and I settled onto the couch, phone in my ear and wineglass in my hand. “Hi, Mom! What’s up?”
“What do you think of a spring wedding, dear?”
Oh my God! Was my mom psychic and did she somehow know about last night? Wine sprayed from my mouth over my knees. I hacked, slamming myself on the chest.
“Cassie? Are you okay?”
I hacked once more and sucked in a breath, grateful when my lungs didn’t reject the gift. “Fine, fine. What did you say about a wedding?” Breathe, Cassie, breathe!
“A spring wedding! That’ll give us months to plan! Oh, it’ll be so gorgeous. What would you think of gladiolas? Oh no! Tulips. Red, pink, yellow…”
“Um… Sounds lovely, Mom, but aren’t you forgetting so
mething?”
“What?”
“I don’t have a groom.” And no immediate plans to marry. What was up with my mother? My breath came in short gasps despite me having recovered from the wine spew. I ran to the kitchen for a cloth to mop up the spilled wine before plopping back down on the couch.
Mom’s laughter trickled over the phone. “Not you, sweetie. Your brother! He finally proposed to Stephanie. You know, your dad and I never thought our younger child would be the first to marry.”
Mom twisted the knife she’d just plunged into my heart. “Bobby? Getting married? He’s too young!” Why did I suddenly picture my brother at twelve?
“He’s twenty-two, the same age your father and I were when we got married.”
At twenty-four they probably considered me a spinster. Because my mind couldn’t wrap around the kid I used to babysit getting married, I opened my mouth but nothing came out. My kid brother? My recently graduated from college brother, getting married.
“They’ve put a down payment on the old Simmons place across the road.”
Oh, yay. Getting married and buying a house. Here I was working a desk job, holding my breath and waiting for a promotion my boss promised me long ago. “How… wonderful.”
“You know, Cassie,” Mom said, slyness in her voice. “While we’re planning weddings…”
“What?” Thank God I’d put the wine up or I’d be calling paramedics. “Mom, I’m not even dating anyone.” Well, dating might not be the proper word for what Andy, Jack, and I did.
“No? How about those neighbors of yours? Either of them seems like good marriage material.”
My face likely shaded twenty shades of red. If you blushed and no one saw you, were you still embarrassed? “They’re friends, nothing more.” Or too much more to tell my mother about.
“Such a pity, really. Don’t you want to settle down and get married? Start a family.”
I stared at the front door, willing Andy, Jack, or anyone to burst in with some kind of dire emergency to save me from this awkward conversation. “I’m working on my career, living my own life. How can I share my life with someone if I don’t have one?”
In her best, “there, there”, voice, she said, “You’ll find the right guy and make your life with him. Until then, you can help me plan Bobby and Stephanie’s wedding. Oh! You’ll make the prettiest bridesmaid! Maybe you’ll even meet some nice, young groomsman.”
My head spun for an hour after Mom hung up, only after extracting promises of my humble servitude while she made a million plans Stephanie and her mother probably wouldn’t like.
For a moment I pitied my brother’s fiancé. Hurricane Mom could be a force of nature.
Marriage. What I’d been taught to want.
What I really wanted was to turn off the idea Mom put into my head. Running always cleared my thoughts.
Hair in a ponytail, tennis shoes slapping the road, and Bob Seger crooning in my earbuds, I set out to work off some stress. The couple from down the street were out for a stroll, the wife pushing a baby stroller full of chubby infant. The mother couldn’t have been my age yet.
Mr. and Mrs. Henderson sat on their front porch, holding hands. They’d been married over fifty years. I jogged in place at the traffic light, waiting for my turn to cross. A car drove through the intersection trailing streamers and sporting a large sign across the back, “Just Married.”
Everyone in the world couldn’t be married, could they?
Even at work I passed cubes with photos on the desks of a husband, wife, kids—one husband, or one wife, maybe multiple kids.
People in what Mom called polite society paired up. They got married. They didn’t go home to two men.
My boss stopped by my desk, and I couldn’t help noticing the flashy wedding rings she wore. “My assistant’s getting married next month, and I’d like to plan a surprise shower for her.”
In my mind I put my hands over my ears and screamed to the top of my lungs. If I settled down, got married, maybe I’d get the promotion I’d been promised, I’d be accepted in the community, I’d no longer be Cassandra Marie Davenport, I’d be Mrs. So-and-So. Sure, I could keep my last name, but what if I didn’t want that for myself? What if I didn’t want to get married?
What if I wanted two men in my life forever?
I’d be an outcast.
15
Jack and I bounced on a four-wheeler across a field, much faster than we’d ridden on horseback to the same spot. He unfolded a quilt on the ground and sat beside me. “I need to talk to you about my brother,” he said.
I’d been expecting Jack to tell me all the reasons Andy wasn’t my type. Part of me was flattered to have two men compete for my attention but, well, turning them against each other hadn’t figured into my Twin/Cassie fantasies.
“Yes?” Studying a pine tree on the other side of the pond meant I didn’t have to look at Jack, wonder if what I saw in his eyes was lies or truth. He hadn’t lied to me yet, but Grandpa planned to move soon, one of the twins would move to the farm, and I needed to make my choice. Had they made personal side bets on the outcome? I’d clang both their heads together.
What kind of incriminating evidence on Andy would I hear? A secret baby mama somewhere? Gambling debts? Porn addiction?
“He wasn’t always quiet.”
Do what? If Jack wanted to turn me against his brother, he’d have to come up with a better reason. “Are you saying he just doesn’t talk to me?”
Jack’s harsh exhale had me whipping my head around to catch a glimpse of him gripping his hair, a gesture his brother did often when he got frustrated, but something I rarely saw Jack do. “We were a lot alike, personality-wise, when we were kids, running around like we didn’t have a lick of sense, getting into stuff, fighting one minute and best buddies the next.”
“You mean you were normal kids. Who would have thought?” I pictured miniature Getsingers scuffling on the floor, learning to ride bikes, catching crawfish in the creek behind their grandfather’s farm.
“He took it hard when our dad died.”
In all the time I’d known them, they’d never said what happened to their father, and I’d never pried. “What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“What has he told you about our parents?” Jack glanced at me from the corner of his eye, then resumed gazing out over the pond.
“Same as you. Next to nothing.”
He huffed out a breath. “Most kids I know whose parents split up young don’t know their fathers. Me and Andy don’t know our mother.”
“You’re adopted?” Couldn’t be. They were the spitting image of their grandfather.
“No. Our father and mother hooked up in high school while both of them were sixteen. She got pregnant. Both sets of their parents insisted they get married.” Jack grabbed a rock and threw, skipping the stone over the pond. “Dad dropped out of school, got a job in the mill, and Grandpa helped him buy the house Andy and I live in now, only, it was run down and needed a lot of work. Dad worked at the mill all night, then worked on the house all day.”
“What do you know about your mother?”
“She dropped out of school but didn’t really take to the idea of getting married and settling down.” He blinked a few times and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
I skipped my own rock. Somehow, watching him grieve seemed like an invasion of his privacy.
After a while he continued. “She left when we were two weeks old. Never looked back. Never called, never came to see us. Grandpa said she lives out in Nevada somewhere now.”
How could any woman walk away from her children and never look back? Poor guys! “I’m sorry,” was all I could think of to say. I’d never wanted to hug them more than in that instant. I scooted closer, offering comfort with my shoulder pressed against his.
“Don’t be. He was only seventeen when we came into this world, but our father tried to do right by us. The old man, our great-grandfather, didn’t like him much and wouldn
’t let him work at the car lot, so he did double shifts at the mill whenever he could, determined to give his boys everything they needed. He was a good father.”
To my guys. Yes, no matter what happened, Andy and Jack were mine now, be it as lovers or friends. Wrapping my arm around his biceps and laying my head against his shoulder seemed to be the best course of action. Jack lifted his arm and I slipped beneath to snuggle against his chest. God, I could get used to this.
“What happened to him?” I asked.
“Christmas was coming, and he had two eight-year-old boys growing so fast he couldn’t keep us in clothes. We wanted bikes and whatnot from Santa, not yet understanding where the gifts came from. He worked every shift they let him.”
Jack sniffed. I hugged him tighter. “He fell asleep behind the wheel, wrapped his truck around a tree. Andy took it hard. Thought if he hadn’t wanted so much, our dad wouldn’t have worked so hard, and he might still be here.
“He was twenty-five years old when he died. He never graduated high school, never got to enjoy being young. He dated some, but most women shied away from a man with two kids and little money.”
“Your Grandpa took you in.”
“Yeah, and gave his own father hell for being a bastard to our dad. But too late. Anyway, all those women you’ve seen Andy with?”
I nodded. What else could I do?
“The reason he went through so many was that he made a hard and fast rule that if he didn’t think they’d be a good mother, he wouldn’t risk making them one. He rarely took one to bed, even with protection.”
He’d slept with me on the second date. Oh God. I loved that man. But wait… “Why are you telling me all this?”
He gave me his lopsided smile, the one that branded him a rake. It wasn’t the smirk I’d first taken it as—just the way he smiled. “Because, if you’re having trouble making up your mind, I want to tell you what a wonderful man you’ll be getting in Andy. He’ll be good to you.”
Oh, so it wasn’t me who’d made a decision. I gulped, heart in my throat. “Is this your way of telling me you’ve changed your mind.”
