Their Secret

by Cassandra Dee

  And sneaking away from Waverly Mansion hadn’t been easy. There are so many people around all the time, from our chef, to the maid, to the billions of gardeners always roaming the grounds. Gray would have questioned them all, so I tried to make it seem like a jaunt to the mall, nothing more. All I took were a backpack full of clothes and some money that I’d squirreled away over the years.

  And it’s okay. I’m okay. Now that my life is totally different, it’s exciting to see new possibilities popping up like buds on a springtime tree. What was supposed to be an escape has become a true fresh start. It’s the best possible outcome, even if it doesn’t always feel good.

  Because my new life has in no way erased my past, and heartache is still there, sorrowful and heavy. In fact, it’s embarrassing to admit how often Mason and Gray cross my mind still. In a weird way, they’re my constant company even if the alphas aren’t here in the flesh.

  No one can fill their shoes. After all this time, that’s the long and the short of it. For a brief span, there was such a connection between the three of us. The way our bodies moved together, the way we managed to communicate while barely speaking. The hurt comes rushing back when I think about our last time together.

  How could I have possibly misread both of them?

  Neither Gray nor Mason seemed like the type of man who would desert me so cruelly. But then again, Kathy hadn’t seemed like the type of woman who could come rushing back to Gray, either. And if she hadn’t come back, then what?

  Would we still be together?

  It seems impossible. Two alphas with one sweet virgin. Permanently? Yeah, right. How would that work?

  So I turn back to my flowers, sad once more, shoulders heavy with weight. What was I thinking?

  Not that it matters. Because what’s past is past, and there’s no sense in ruminating non-stop. Because as much hurt as Gray and Mason caused, I only like to think of our happy times together. Why bury myself in misery? Why not focus on the nights of passion we shared, our bodies glistening with sweat as our limbs tangled together in a lustful frenzy?

  My thighs press together, and I realize this is the wrong time for a trip down memory lane. My body is hot and bothered, and the only things around me are plants.

  Go figure. But that’s the life I’ve chosen for myself. And it’s better this way, after all. I’m safe. No more heartbreak. No more heartwrenching need. Stability and calm are my go-to’s now.

  But I can’t help but remember sometimes. Gray gave me my first orgasm, and my toes still clench at the memory. Each night, I close my eyes and imagine them both looking down at me, their hands full of stiff cock as they grit their teeth and watch me climax before coming all over my breasts.

  Suddenly, a perky voice startles me from my thoughts.

  “I’ll just have these two!”

  It’s the older woman – she’s selected two arrangements, and somehow managed to carry them to the counter while my head was in the clouds thinking of my long-lost lovers.

  “That’ll be forty-five dollars,” is my murmur.

  She digs into her small cross body purse, retrieving a fifty dollar bill before handing it to me.

  I take the bill and hand her five dollars in change with her receipt before instructing her to pull her car to the front door. The arrangements she selected come with a heavy glass vase, which requires a thick blanket of bubble wrap for safety.

  And just as I finish wrapping the vase, the bells from the front door chime again. This time it’s Joseph, the young college kid who works the closing shift. I’m in luck, because he can lift both vases at once, and he happily loads the woman’s car while I wrap up a few final details in the shop.

  “Any plans for the night?” Joseph asks as I log out of the computer.

  “I’m going down to the fair for the last night.” Talking about my plans brings a trace of self-consciousness to my mind and I shrug, even though I’ve been looking forward to the County Fair. Once upon a time, I wouldn’t have known what went on at one of these things. But this is my new life, and stuff like cow-tipping and pie-tasting are very much a part of it.

  “That’ll be fun, I always love the fair,” Joseph smiles.

  I smile back. He’s young and innocent, which reminds me of my past. Except Joseph has never lived outside of this small town. Hell, I only got here because it was as far as a seventy-five-dollar Greyhound ticket would take me.

  “Yeah, I hope it’ll be fun,” are my lighthearted words. “Maybe I’ll win something awesome!”

  And with a wave goodnight, I leave and head for the local bus stop. No more chauffeured cars for me, that’s for sure, but it’s okay. I don’t mind using public transportation every day. It sure beats walking everywhere.

  It’s early in the afternoon, so there are plenty of seats available on the bus and I find one right in the front. A long sigh escapes me as I settle down. Fatigue from the long workday sets in and now it just feels good to sit and relax, even if it is on a public bus. Longer hours mean more money, which is good, but it definitely takes a toll on my body.

  As tempting as it is to skip the fair, I’m determined not to. Last year I missed it, and this year, I’m determined to go. After all, there isn’t a lot of room for fun in my life right now and somehow, a simple fair outing and some fried food might be just the ticket.

  As soon as the bus pulls away and leaves me on the curb, I hear the commotion coming from my small house. There’s a loud, high pitched scream that brings a smile to my face as I round the corner to see my front porch.

  “Mama!” Magnus yells, waving his tiny hands in the air.

  With a pep in my step, I walk down our pathway as Roman jumps up and down, continuing to scream in his high-pitched tone, although his words are inaudible.

  “Hi, babies!” is my coo.

  My two sons run towards me on their stubby toddler legs, each wrapping their chubby arms around one of my legs. Because yes, I didn’t just arrive in this town impoverished and alone. I arrived, impoverished, knowing no one … and pregnant with twins, the bump already beginning to show.

  “They’ve been waiting for the sound of the bus for an hour now,” Rachel, my babysitter, says and shakes her head. “They’re getting smarter by the day, you know – they actually begged me to wait outside until you got home.”

  Rubbing my hands against their soft hair, I smile as they both look up a me with bright blue eyes. Never have I seen a set of twins that look so different – one with blonde hair, and another with black. Staring at the newborns, the doctor had chuckled, eyeing the boys.

  “Different as night and day, hmm?” he smiled, checking something off on his clipboard.

  I’d nodded mutely, eyes wide. Because they were different but for a scandalous reason. I’d been impregnated by two men at once. It sounds like something right off Jerry Springer, but after the twins’ birth I surfed around on-line, eyes wide. It’s true. You can get pregnant from two men with twins who have different fathers.

  Crazy right?

  Just another chapter in my bizarre life. First, taking up with my stepdad and our therapist. And then getting pregnant … by two different men simultaneously.

  But I couldn’t be happier with my sons, and Magnus and Roman are my absolute bliss. Perfection personified, times two.

  Mason and Gray don’t know about them, of course. They have no idea that during our most passionate night together, a little magic was created inside my uterus.

  And frankly, it was a surprise. I wasn’t totally sure I was pregnant when I left. Sure, there was some extra weight around my belly, but I’m a big girl and it wasn’t anything crazy. So Magnus and Roman were a shocking discovery to say the least.

  Sometimes I wonder if that information might have changed the way I reacted, or even the way Gray or Mason would have behaved. A son might have been enough to pull Gray away from my mother, or to make Mason reconsider dropping me like a hot coal.

  But again, that’s all in the past. I have no regre
ts. I wouldn’t want either of them to love me out of obligation or pity. No, my children aren’t lottery tickets, which is why I’ve never sought money from their fathers. We have everything we need, and things are only looking up with the floral shop. The owner likes me, and has hinted at a promotion and possibly a raise.

  It’s funny. I used to live a life of luxury and was miserable. But now with my minimum wage job, I’m happier than ever. Go figure.

  “Are you still going down to the campground?” Rachel asks as she lifts her backpack. She’s still in high school – it’s weird to think that soon, my young babysitter will surpass me in terms of life milestones.

  “Yes. I’m going to drop my stuff and we’ll head out now.”

  “Have fun!” She calls over her shoulder after she kisses both Magnus and Roman on their cheeks. “Bye guys, see you tomorrow.”

  And after a few minutes of cuddles, I lock our front door to head out for an evening of fun, the two babies in their pram.

  The fair is more like a carnival, small and low-budget. The rides look a little unsteady – they definitely couldn’t handle my big curves, and I don’t feel comfortable letting my boys ride them, either. Luckily Magnus and Roman are so young that they don’t know what they’re missing out on.

  “Come on, boys.” Taking each of my sons by the hand, we walk over to the food vendors. The delicious smell of fried funnel cakes and hot dogs hangs in the air and I sniff greedily, closing my eyes.

  “Apple,” Magnus says solemnly. He points to a sign painted with cartoonish apple dumplings.

  I grin. Why not? Leading the boys forward, I pay for three giant fried apple dumplings. We walk over to a bench and I hand Roman and Magnus their treats, not even worrying when Magnus drips apple goo all over his chin. It’s sweet, the caramel oozing down one chubby chin, the little boy’s hand flailing as he squeals.

  The apple dumplings are so good that Roman whines when they are finished. A man dressed in a pumpkin mascot costume is the only thing that can brighten up his mood.

  “Hey little buddy! Come on down with me!” he yells in a silly voice.

  Magnus and Roman both wobble behind him as he leads them through the fair. People smile and wave at the mascot, but the boys seem to think the attention is directed at them. I smile as their eyes gleam, chubby hands clapping together in excitement.

  Times like this make me believe everything will be alright, despite the obstacles ahead. Right now, the boys are too young to question our situation. Hell, they can’t say much at two years old, but one of the words they know is ‘Da-da’. I’m not sure where the twins heard it, but every time one of them says it, my heart leaps into my throat.

  It’s a reminder that one day I will have to explain to them how I fell in love with their daddies. Taking a deep breath, my shoulders square themselves.

  I have to be brave. Things will be fine. For now, at least, because the truth is complicated, and by no means do I have a speech ready for that fateful day.

  Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted.

  “I have two great contestants!” the pumpkin mascot yells, pointing down to my boys, who jump up and down as everyone claps for them.

  We’ve arrived at the pumpkin guessing station. Every year, the farmers in the area grow the largest pumpkin they can, and the winner goes on display at the fair. An annual contest challenges the residents to guess the weight of the largest pumpkin, with all sorts of prizes at stake.

  An older man hands me a small piece of paper and a pencil while the mascot continues to entertain Magnus and Roman.

  “Obviously, they won’t be filling out their guess card,” he jokes, looking over at the boys.

  After writing down an estimate and my contact information, I wrangle my boys and take their hands. Tonight has been fun, but they’re getting tired and cranky and it’s almost time to go home.

  “Wait! We need a photo!” The old man yells just when I’ve got both kids ready to leave.

  Kneeling down, I wrap one arm around each of them as I pull them into my sides and smile at the camera.

  If it’s one thing Magnus and Roman know, it’s that they’re adorable. Everyone says so – and at the tender age of two, they’re getting quite used to mugging for the camera, even for strangers. So smiles and giggles come out, one blonde head going this way, one dark head going the other.

  “The winner will be announced Sunday,” the man says, handing me a pamphlet with the details about pumpkin farming in the county and the contest details.

  “Thanks,” is my low murmur. Suddenly, Magnus whines.

  “Mommy, I’m tired!”

  “Me too!” Roman says, looking up at me for a solution.

  “Ok, let’s go home then.” Looking down at my boys fills my heart with joy. It’s almost impossible to remember the broken-hearted girl who gave birth to them over two years ago.

  My pregnancy was a difficult one. I worked until I gave birth, literally. Unable to pass up any extra money, I took every shift at the floral shop until my water broke while kneeling over a potting dish.

  We didn’t have much back then, but thankfully my boys only needed me. I never imagined they could heal me in the way they did. Regardless of how we ended, I will always have a special place in my heart for Mason and Gray, because without them, I wouldn’t have my beautiful babies.

  The bus ride and walk home are a breeze. The boys sleep in their double stroller the entire journey, and after deciding against waking them for a bath, I place them gently in their beds before slipping off to my room for a little peace and quiet.

  This is the life. Calm. Tranquility. My boys sleeping in the other room.

  I should be happy, and yet my heart seizes painfully as I stare up at the ceiling. Because Mason and Gray’s faces hover in my mind’s eyes, devilishly handsome and dominant. I can never forget them, despite my best efforts … and the truth is that I don’t want to.

  Chapter 15

  Mona

  “Oh yeah! Right there, baby!” I call out, my words a mix of a plea and a moan. My orgasm is mere thrusts away, and I’m addicted to the feel of these men.

  “Fuck her hard, Gray. I want to see her come,” Mason commands, one hand gripping his cock while the fingers of the other massages my breast. He’s stroking himself, and the sight pushes me to new heights of excitement.

  “Oh yeah!” Gray grunts, demanding my attention.

  With Mason’s hand gripping my hair, I look up into Gray’s eyes and let go of any resistance against the waves deep in my stomach, begging to drown me in pleasure. An erotic explosion detonates deep inside of me, and my orgasm is so powerful that juices rush down my legs.

  Gray pumps me hard and fast as his hips buck wildly. His usually calm and controlled body tenses with every thrust. His abdomen is so tight that it rocks against my still humming clit with every plunge.

  The sensations are incredible, and when he explodes deep inside of me, a new layer unlocks in my chest, revealing a swell of love I’ve never experienced before.

  Suddenly, a wailing cry jolts me awake.

  “Mama!”

  Oh no! I sit up, gasping with shock. It feels so wrong to have erotic dreams about two men while my son is crying but it’s not like it could be helped. My breath is coming hard and fast and my thin nightie is stuck to my sweaty curves.

  “Mama’s here, baby,” I croon as I scoop Magnus into my arms. “Don’t worry. Mama’s here.”

  Magnus falls back asleep in seconds but I can’t shake the images from my mind. They’re too raw, too powerful – much too erotic for a chubby single mom in the middle of nowhere.

  Going back to sleep is impossible, and when it’s time to get up my body is tired and unrested. My morning blurs into the afternoon as I bounce from one activity to the next keeping the boys entertained. The older they get, the more difficult it gets to watch them on my own. They’re both so active and busy, running around the rooms of our small house until I can’t keep up.

  It’s a m
iracle when both boys pass out early that evening, tucked safely in my bed. I’m just settling down on the living room couch with a magazine when suddenly, there’s a loud knock on the door.

  Oh right. Rachel’s coming over. Groaning as I drag myself off the couch.

  “Hey, Rach, how are you?” But the teen girl is practically bouncing with excitement, holding a newspaper up.

  “What’s that?” I ask, pulling the door closed and locking it.

  “You!” Rachel squeals, trembling with glee.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” Rachel says. She giggles. “Mona, this is such a cute picture – you should have it framed!”

  Gripping her wrist to steady the image, I peer down at the folded paper. To my surprise, it is me, with the boys at the fair from the other night. We’ve won the damn pumpkin contest!

  I didn’t know being printed in the newspaper was part of the reward, but it sure is strange seeing my smiling face stare back at me. Does my hair usually look like that? Do my eyes generally look sad, even when I’m smiling?

  Rachel’s just about to say something else when the words die on her lips, eyes going wide. Before I can ask what’s the matter, my eyes follow her stare and the breath catches in my throat.

  Because they’re here. Huge and commanding, Gray and Mason stand shoulder to shoulder, taking up all the space in my small foyer. The room shrinks in their presence, and I instantly yearn to touch them. They’re both so sexy – even more gorgeous than the memories stored safely inside my brain.

  But what am I thinking? I can’t touch them. They never loved me, and they could never love a silly, naïve distraction such as myself. Looking from Gray’s dark blue eyes to the iciness of Mason’s, my blood pumps faster through my veins, every nerve on high alert. It feels like my body is coming back to life and betraying my vow to stay calm in the process.

  “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” All I can do is pray that my eyes are deceiving me.