Falling for My Dad's Best Friend

by Cassandra Dee

  “Hey,” was all I said back, my twin not saying anything at all. And with that, it was on. Candy was in my lap in a second, her little lips on mine, one arm reaching for Kato even as her hand slid up my thigh slyly.

  Normally this would have been a go, Kato and I would have dragged her outside, to a hotel, to our sleeping quarters, hell wherever, the back of the joint. But somehow, the chick’s kiss left me cold, unmoved, curiously uninterested. Her lips were dry, too thin, not the plushy, pillowy softness of Tina’s, like I was kissing a plastic mannequin with no verve, no vivid, pulsing life, begging for my touch.

  And her ass, that ass was just way too fucking bony, I could feel her skeleton jutting into my thighs, angular and pointy, sharp as razors. Fuck, this sucked. We wanted heft, juiciness, a round butt that would jiggle when you smacked it, let out a resounding thump if you dropped her hard on your dick.

  So Candy wasn’t it. She was right for some other dude, but not us. I broke off the kiss, scooting her off my lap, placing her back on her feet. The girl wobbled unsteadily, bracing a hand against the bar, looking up at us through glazed eyes.

  “What, what is it?” she breathed unsteadily. “I’m ready, I’m not on the rag, what’s holding you back?”

  And Kato snorted at her language. That’s the thing, we usually don’t mind dirty girls, but lately super-gritty wasn’t doing it for us. Sure, we want someone with a dirty mind, who’d roll around in the gutter with us, but we didn’t want her to be a full-on ho, a ghetto girl who’d never improve.

  So I kept my expression impassive and turned back to my drink.

  “Naw, just not feeling it baby,” I rumbled casually. “See ya around.”

  And surprisingly Candy flew off the handle then.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she screeched. “I’m just as good as any ho around here, what the fuck? You think I’m not enough?”

  This outburst was just more evidence that she was totally wrong for us, but Kato stepped in smoothly.

  “Of course you’re enough,” he soothed, pulling on his beer. “But just not for us.”

  And the woman went even more ballistic then.

  “Well, you’re not what I’m looking for either!” she screeched, her face mottling as she tugged the hem of her dress down, straightening out the bodice. “You two are poor sailors, you’ll never be anything,” she spat. “I’m looking for someone with possibility, a future, and you?” she said gesturing with her hands. “You’re just fat zeros.”

  And at that my hackles raised, Kato growling under his breath, our eyes shooting daggers.

  “We don’t hit women,” I said slowly.

  “But I’m tempted,” my twin finished.

  And the girl came to her senses then. Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she shot us a glare before slinking away, but not without one last parting shot.

  “I bet you’re gay!” she shrieked before the crowds surrounded her, obscuring her from our gaze.

  And my bro and I shared a look before we turned back to our drinks. Gay we definitely weren’t, and it was so off target, so absurd, that the slur didn’t even bother us.

  “Whatever,” he grunted.

  And I shrugged silently. To each their own.

  “Sorry man,” said Harvey, magically materializing with a dish rag in his hand, wiping the bar clean. “I really thought Candy was your type. Didn’t think it’d turn out such a shitshow.”

  “No worries,” I rumbled. “Doesn’t always work out, plenty of fish in the sea.”

  But that’s the thing. We didn’t end up with anyone that night, not at that port stop, and not at the next one either. Kato and I basically were celibate, living like monks, our thoughts consumed by only one woman, a brunette with hazel eyes. But where was Tina? How the fuck would we find her again? The chances were slim, we didn’t know her last name, her address, her anything … so it was impossible, come to think of it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tina

  Kristian pulled me inside the bar, his big form insistent, tugging on my arm.

  “Come on, you’ll like it baby girl,” he rumbled, “I promise,” he smiled, making googly eyes at me.

  And I had to laugh, he was so silly, so alpha and yet so silly at once. I’d literally just sucked him by the side of the road, let him run his big dick up my backside, and now here we were, laughing and comfortable like we’d been dating for years.

  “Kristian, stop!” I giggled, panting breathlessly, my voice trailing off as we stepped inside. Because this was no fancy hot spot. I mean, I wasn’t expecting razzle dazzle, but I wasn’t expecting something crass either. The place had sawdust on the floors, the furniture broken down and sad, the bartender a wizened old dude who’d seen better days.

  “Where are we?” I asked, shaking my head. Where were we indeed? It seemed crazy that a prince, a real live prince, would come to a dive like this.

  But Kristian just shook his head, shooting me a grin before nodding.

  “Yeah, I know what you think. This place is a secret, no one knows me when I come,” he confided.

  And I could see why. The guys inside were all farmers, literally wearing overalls in some cases, ten gallon hats on their heads. They looked totally uneducated, not exactly people who kept up with news and current events, reading the Wall Street Journal. So yeah, they probably wouldn’t recognize their Crown Prince, even if he appeared right in front of their noses. I sighed. It was mind-boggling that even in St. Venetia, an international hotspot known for its casinos and sophisticated clientele, there existed places like this.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Kristian nodded at the clientele, “but a lot of these dudes are rolling in it. Agricultural subsidies are the name of the game,” he said, winking. “Trust me, I’d know.”

  And I let out a small “mm-hmm” because it was in the news now how small-time farmers were actually millionaires due to government support, buying spoiled and leftover crops when there was oversupply. Who knew farming was so lucrative?

  So I just sighed and looked at the big man, hands on my hips.

  “The drinks here better be good,” I retorted, and the big man laughed, escorting me to the bar.

  “They’re excellent,” he assured me, making eye contact with the bartender. “Jonas, two bourbons,” he called out, and I scrunched my nose. Shit, I still wasn’t great with hard liquor, at Miss Carroll’s events we were only served wine and champagne, but hey, there’s always room for new experiences.

  So I downed my bourbon in one gulp, gasping as the liquor burned my throat, making Kristian laugh.

  “Slow, little girl, slow,” he rumbled, “there’s plenty of time.” But I shook my head. This was my chance to let loose before I was locked up again at the finishing school, a modern-day prisoner, and I wanted to make the most of it.

  “Again,” I demanded, and like magic, another shot appeared in front of me. This time I was even faster, gulping the amber liquid without letting it touch my tongue, shooting it into the depths of my stomach in one fell swoop.

  And the liquor must have worked quickly because when I put my glass down, I saw Kato and Karl, the two men I’d done at the Old Dog back in Andorra.

  “Kato?” I asked, befuddled. “Karl?”

  They looked amazing, tall, dominant, so handsome with their built physiques, the hard muscles outlined in tight t-shirts, jeans that showed off sculpted asses and long legs.

  And the twins just growled, staring back at me.

  “Tina?” they asked, looking at me and then Kristian, their heads swiveling.

  Because the resemblance was astounding, Kristian the spitting image of the twins, just as tall, just as muscular, with the same black haired/blue eyed combination. Plus, they had the same glare, the same menacing stare that was currently shooting sparks, growls low in their throats as they sized each other up.

  Never one to hold back, Kato spat out, “Who is this fucker?” nodding at Kristian. And before I could say “The Crown Prin
ce of St. Venetia,” Kristian ground out, “None of your fucking business. Who the fuck are you and how do you know Tina?”

  That led to a moment of silence. How did the twins and I know each other exactly? I could hardly say we’d gotten it on next to a dumpster in back of a bar, that I’d let them drill me double, touch me everywhere. So I hemmed and hawed, mumbling, “Kato and Karl are friends of mine from back home. How is Andorra, Kato, Karl?” I asked, shooting them a meaningful glance while purposefully keeping my voice neutral.

  And they took the hint.

  “It’s good, little girl,” replied Karl, the smoother of the two. “It’s good, we left port the day after we saw you, but it was a good stay there.”

  And Kato was still glaring at Kristian but managed a tight nod, a short grunt, and that was enough. I took a deep breath.

  “Well, nice to see you again,” I trilled, seizing Kristian by the arm. “Come on Kris, let’s get out of here.”

  But the big man wasn’t put off.

  “If I’m not mistaken,” he said laconically, “you know these two men from somewhere.”

  “Right, Andorra,” I replied quickly. “Like they said, we’re old friends from home. Come on, they’re going to miss me at Miss Carroll’s,” I said, all the while futilely tugging him towards the door. “It’s getting late, we gotta go.” But there was no way my small form could budge his huge mass so Kristian remained rooted like a giant statue, his impassive face taking in the twin towers.

  “Well, if I’m not mistaken,” he drawled, “there’s something between you and these dudes, something passing through the air that any dumbass can sense. I’m not going to ask what it is because it’s none of my business, but I’m ready to challenge them for you.”

  And the three of us turned to look at him, dumbfounded. What the hell? Challenge? Was this some prince-speak that I couldn’t understand? It sounded like right out of the storybooks, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, only knights “challenged” each other to duels for the hand of the fair lady. What was going on?

  But the twins jumped at the chance.

  “Sure,” growled Kato, never one to pass up a fight.

  “We’ll take it,” drawled Karl, “and we’ll make it even easier for you,” he added. “Your choice of weapon.”

  And now I gasped, half horrified and half mystified. Again, it was like we were in some dream world, Assassin’s Creed or Double Dragon maybe. Weapons? Combat? What the hell was going on? Was someone carrying a gun?

  But Kristian just laughed heartily, tipping his head back, that handsome face in profile.

  “You’re living in the Dark Ages,” he rumbled. “But I agree. I choose cards. Blackjack to be exact.”

  “You’re on,” rasped Kato without missing a beat, his eyes shooting daggers.

  And helpfully, the bartender piped up at this point.

  “We have a back room, perfect for a card game,” he gestured, flicking a thumb towards the back. Magically, a door swung open, revealing a dimly lit space behind him, a table with chairs, a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. “You’ll have privacy back there.”

  And just like that, the competition was on. Except instead of trophies or a ribbon, the men were competing for me. I was the grand prize in this high-stakes match.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Kato

  I knew exactly who the fucker was. Prince Kristian of St. Venetia, our older half-brother, heir to the throne, the reason why our father had never acknowledged us. The dude was the real thing, the favored son of the blood royal, while Karl and I were illegitimate good-for-nothings, treated like rotting trash.

  But I have to admit, the fucker looked good. Almost a carbon copy of my twin and I, Kristian was just as tall, just as massive, with the same dark hair, the same piercing blue eyes that stared back at me each morning. But the expression on his face … it was pure arrogance.

  His smirk was all too familiar, looking just like my own, and I fucking hated it on sight. I guess Karl and I have always had inferiority complexes, knowing that we were bastard sons. And that’s why I’ve always hated comments that brand us as big zeros, with no potential, destined to a life of drudgery. Because the fact is that my twin and I are from a royal family and should have had the world at our feet, every door open, every opportunity available. Well, fuck that. Karl and I were determined to make our mark in our own way, in our own good time.

  Meanwhile, this loser in front of us was looking at Tina like she belonged to him. WTF? Fuck that. Tina belonged to us, she was our girl, and this dumbfuck better get himself in line. He was staring at her like he owned her and I needed to put a stop to this shit, pronto.

  But there are benefits to lying low, so I forced myself to go slow, lie in wait. I took a deep breath, telling myself to stay calm, get in the zone because the asshole had it coming and didn’t even know it, challenging us to a game of blackjack. I’d almost laughed aloud when I realized what was happening. Karl and I are cardsharks, this kind of shit is right up our alley, we’ve played thousands of hand, both on-line and in casinos at various ports. After all, what do sailors do in their free time? That’s right, drink, fuck, and gamble.

  So I was seriously stoked, taking a seat in that back room, exuding masculine confidence. The environs weren’t great, a dingy space with nothing but a table, three chairs, and a bed in one corner, the mattress saggy, the iron frame rusted. But hey, at least we had privacy and Kristian? That guy was about to get his ass beat.

  “Ante up,” I commanded and the two other threw in their chips, the soft green velour of the tabletop muffling the thunks. But Tina interrupted.

  “Where do I sit?” she asked plaintively. “There are only three chairs.”

  I cursed the dump silently, all the while looking around. The brunette could have perched on the bed, but then she wouldn’t be able to see the game and I assumed she wanted to follow the match, seeing that she was literally the spoils.

  Suddenly an idea popped into my mind.

  “Come sit in my lap, baby girl,” I rumbled. That elicited a growl from Kristian as the plump brunette made her way over to me, nestling onto my thighs, but he shut his trap having no better options, eyes glaring like dark coals as he took in the set-up. What was he going to do, make her sit on the floor?

  “Deal,” he ground out, and we were on.

  The cards flew, hand after hand, chips changing hands at lightning speed, the stakes ramping up exorbitantly, but that’s how pro players roll. It’s fast, we’ve seen every hand thousands of times and make split-second decisions, gambling thousands at a time, our eyes sharp, the risk immense. But I was losing my concentration because Tina was grinding against me, her lush behind rolling against my dick and I tried keeping her in check, placing one hand firmly on a swaying hip as the other grasped my cards.

  “Fuck, little girl,” I whispered in her ear, “stop that, would you? I’m trying to play cards here.”

  But the brunette just giggled and wiggled more, my cockpole firmly pressed between her ass cheeks now, the only thing separating us her panties and the fabric of my jeans. I could feel the flesh rolling against my rod, the lushness, the fleshy orbs massaging me, distracting me from the most important game of my life.

  “Stop!” I hissed in her ear again, clamping my hand down on her thigh. “There’s a thousand on the table, I need to concentrate.”

  But Tina giggled again, ignoring me and suddenly I felt a wet gush against my leg. Holy cow, her pussy must have been leaking gallons if there was enough cream to soak through denim. My cock jerked involuntarily, causing the brunette to titter again, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “What the fuck?” ground out Kristian, looking at us hard. “You playing or what?”

  And I paused a moment before answering.

  “Yeah, all in,” I said, slapping down my cards and putting both fists on the girl’s waist to keep her in place. My bro merely shot me a quick glance before turning away – the stakes were high and we
couldn’t afford to lose.

  But Tina by now had managed to reach behind herself, stealthily pulling down the zip to my jeans, my dong popping out and hitting her rear end before she edged back, covering it with her butt cheeks. And I felt her touch me then, her pussy lips glued to each side of my dick, lubing me with her copious nectar.

  “Oh fuck,” I gasped as she began moving, ever so slightly. Because the little girl was giving me the camel toe under the table, running that sweet pussy up and down my shaft as I played my hand, her pussy lips parted horizontally around my shaft, sucking on my dick, gliding it along it lengthwise as I tried to focus. Of course, that was impossible and I was almost panting now, eyes at half mast, unable to do anything but focus on the sensations in my groin, the little girl’s dance on my hot rod.

  But before I could come, Kristian let out a low growl.

  “How about you come and sit in my lap for a while?” he asked casually, too casually. “Pot’s up to two thousand,” he remarked, tossing in a couple more chips.

  And I almost gasped when that hot pussy departed, the cold air rushing over my dong like a punch to the face. Tina, meanwhile, daintily got up and shook out her skirt before walking around the table and depositing herself in Kristian’s lap.

  “Oooh, good play!” she squealed, giggling. “Here’s a kiss for good luck,” turning her head to meet Kristian’s lips but something must have happened under the table because she gasped suddenly, her eyes flying open, breasts heaving.

  And I knew, just knew what must have happened. Sure enough, a glance below the table revealed that Kristian had pulled her panties to the side, revealing those sweet, bare cunt lips, glossy with need, and he’d stuck a big finger inside, the little kitty pulling him in tight, the dew already starting to drip off his wrist.

  “Ohhh,” Tina murmured, grinding down with her hips, bearing down hard, sucking the big digit in to the base. “Oohhh!”