by Nikki Chase
Five Brothers’ Christmas Surprise
Nikki Chase
C opyright © 2017 Nikki Chase
All rights reserved .
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review .
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental .
This book is for mature readers. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some .
All sexual activity in this work is consensual and all sexually active characters are 18 years of age or older .
Contents
About This Book
Five Brothers’ Christmas Surprise
Prologue
1. Emma
2. Emma
3. Austin
4. Fraser
5. Emma
6. Ian
7. Emma
8. Sandy
9. Emma
10. Hudson
11. Austin
12. Emma
13. Emma
14. Fraser
15. Emma
16. Sandy
17. Emma
18. Ian
19. Hudson
20. Emma
21. Emma
22. Austin
23. Sandy
24. Hudson
25. Emma
26. Ian
27. Fraser
28. Emma
29. Hudson
30. Ian
31. Emma
32. Austin
33. Emma
34. Emma
35. Fraser
36. Sandy
37. Emma
Preview: The Five Brothers Next Door
Prologue
1. Ava
2. Ava
3. Mason
4. Liam
5. Ava
6. Ollie
Bonus: My Brother’s Best Friend
Prologue
1. Jacqueline
2. Jacqueline
3. Gabriel
4. Jacqueline
5. Jacqueline
6. Gabriel
7. Sam
8. Jacqueline
9. Gabriel
10. Jacqueline
11. Jacqueline
12. Jacqueline
13. Jacqueline
14. Jacqueline
15. Jacqueline
16. Gabriel
17. Jacqueline
18. Sam
19. Jacqueline
20. Jacqueline
21. Jacqueline
22. Gabriel
23. Jacqueline
24. Gabriel
25. Jacqueline
26. Sam
27. Jacqueline
28. Jacqueline
29. Gabriel
30. Jacqueline
31. Jacqueline
32. Jacqueline
Epilogue
Preview: Baby for My Brother’s Friend
Prologue
1. Adam
2. Katie
3. Adam
4. Katie
Bonus: His Virgin
1. Caine
2. Daisy
3. Caine
4. Daisy
5. Caine
6. Caine
7. Daisy
8. Daisy
9. Caine
10. Daisy
11. Caine
12. Daisy
13. Caine
14. Daisy
15. Daisy
16. Caine
17. Daisy
18. Caine
19. Daisy
20. Daisy
21. Caine
22. Daisy
23. Daisy
24. Caine
25. Caine
26. Daisy
27. Caine
28. Daisy
29. Caine
30. Daisy
31. Caine
32. Daisy
33. Daisy
34. Caine
35. Daisy
About the Author
About This Book
F ive Brothers’ Christmas Surprise is a full-length novel of approximately 54,000 words .
I’ve also included two free, full-length bonus books—just a little something to thank you for reading, and hopefully get you interested in the rest of my catalog .
Happy reading !
<3 Nikki
Five Brothers’ Christmas Surprise
Prologue
I let out a moan as Fraser starts to French-kiss my nipple, playing with it using his lips and tongue. “I’ll bet you’re sweet all over,” he says, his hot breath falling on my skin .
“Let me get a taste,” Sandy says impatiently .
When Fraser removes his hand from my breast, Sandy says, “Looks delicious .”
Before I can respond, Sandy rubs his face against my breast. As I close my eyes and let my head roll back, he suckles on my nipple .
The sexual chemistry in this room is potent enough to make a room full of asexuals strip naked and start an orgy. I become lightheaded from all the attention I’m getting. I’ve never had a pair of lips around each nipple before. It feels heavenly but also wickedly sinful .
Fraser is playful, licking all over my pink areola and mashing my nipple with his lips. Sandy traps my other nipple between his teeth and assaults the sensitive peak with his tongue, sometimes biting until it hurts, and I whimper .
They’re making me weak. With their bodies hovering over me, there’s no room for me to move away—and I . . . As much as I feel immoral for doing this, I can’t resist .
When a hand—I don’t know whose—runs up my thigh and rests between my legs, I liquefy. I mold myself to their touch, rising and falling at their command .
I . . . God, this feels so good. But I can’t . . . I can’t possibly do it with two guys at once, can I? Two brothers at once .
When another hand moves up to the fly of my jeans, I snap myself awake and reach down to grab that hand—it’s Sandy’s. He freezes, and Fraser lifts his head up, too, letting go of my nipple .
“Anything wrong?” Sandy asks, as if he didn’t just have my nipple in his mouth while his brother attacked my other nipple .
“I . . . Everything . . . I . . . Um . . .” I stammer .
How do I tell them this is depraved and I can’t do it? Do I really have to spell it out ?
“If this is making you uncomfortable, we can stop,” Fraser says between heavy breaths laced with desire .
“Yes.” I nod. “I . . . I can’t . . . I . . .”
Just then, the front door opens and shuts with a bang. Heavy footsteps echo down the hallway .
“Hey, are you guys going to the thing?” a male voice booms .
“Who’s that?” I grab my shirt and cover my chest, sitting bolt upright as I watch the open doorway with alarm .
“It’s just Ian. Don’t worry,” Sandy says, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder, which is still bare .
As the footsteps get closer, I consider my options. I can run up to the door and slam it shut, but Ian would see me. Or, I can stay put . . . but Ian would see me in bed with two of his brothers .
“Don’t worry,” Fraser says. “It’s not like Ian’s going to judge us for this. If anything he might want to join in .”
Emma
T ick, tock, tick, tock .
I stare at the clock hanging
on the wall of the cramped, windowless storage room that Ted calls my office .
Beige boxes cover almost the entire square footage of this space, leaving a two-foot-wide path between the door and the desk where I’m sitting .
The only concession Ted’s agreed to give me is allowing me to leave the door open so I don’t suffocate. He doesn’t let me forget that little “act of kindness” and brings it up every week .
Tick, tock, tick, tock .
I let out a big sigh. God, why does time always do the opposite of what I want it to? It always feels so slow when I want it to go fast. But when I’m enjoying myself, like when I finally get to spend time alone with Mom, it goes by in a blink .
I guess, at least, Ted lets me have my own office, no matter how pathetic it is. At least he doesn’t get to see me watching the clock like a hawk and letting out deep, sorrowful exhalations .
Ted doesn’t like any displays of negative emotions. He says it’s indicative of internal weakness. Instead, he thinks I should hide all the bad stuff inside me .
Of course, that’s not how he puts it. He says smiling improves mood and reduces stress, so it’s always, with no exception, better than frowning or whatever .
Tick, tock, tick, tock .
I think Ted has a problem with definitions .
This stupid storage room isn’t an office, no matter how often he calls it that .
This job isn’t a career either. He’s just using me as free labor .
And my mom . . . She’s not a partner to him, not in any real sense of the word. She’s a victim of his abuse .
Problem is, she doesn’t see it that way. She’s heard his lies for so long she doesn’t recognize them as what they really are anymore .
Tick, tock, tick, tock .
Seriously, that clock must be moving way more slowly than it’s supposed to. I must be living in an alternate reality where time almost stands still .
Why can’t my mom see what I see ?
She doesn’t seem to understand that Ted’s been manipulating her, blaming her for all his problems that he’s destroyed what self-esteem she may have had left after all these years .
She notices nothing out of the ordinary anymore when Ted tells her to say no to her friends’ invitations to girls’ lunch or any other such gatherings. I don’t blame those sweet old ladies when they stop asking my mom to come to stuff .
No, the only person I blame is Ted .
Tick, tock, tick, tock .
Jesus, when is Ted going to pass by my door ?
It’s not that I miss him, of course—ugh. On the contrary, I’ve had enough of his abuse .
I’ve tried prying Mom away from him. By everything that’s holy, I swear I’ve tried .
I’ve tried everything .
I’ve left books lying around on the coffee table. I’ve straight-out sent her articles about emotional abuse to read .
I’ve pointed out every little manipulative thing he does in the least accusing way possible, but she just says that’s how Ted shows his love for her—by isolating her from her entire support system and tearing her down every chance he gets .
But my mom has a problem with definitions, too. She thinks Ted just wants to spend time with her when he orders her to skip her book club meeting yet again. She says Ted only wants her to grow into a better person when he criticizes everything from her clothes to her handwriting .
Tick, tock, tick, tock .
Time has been going at a snail’s pace for years now. Two years, to be precise .
When I went away for college at eighteen, at first I felt great relief. It was like a heavy weight was lifted from my shoulders. I’d forgotten what freedom felt like and I got drunk on it .
I left my dorm room so messy my roommate gave me death glares whenever she was around, although it wasn’t a big deal since she spent most nights at her boyfriend’s apartment off-campus anyway .
I partied, drank alcohol, and even had a few boyfriends .
None of those relationships lasted long, of course. I’d only gained my freedom back; there was no way I’d give it up to some guy .
So, as soon as a boyfriend started to make demands of me, I’d bail. Like when Larry told me he didn’t like my dress and he wanted me to change before we went to see his parents, or when Dean said he didn’t like my friends .
I don’t know. Maybe I was being too flighty, but I’d rather be alone than get stuck in the same predicament my mom’s in. It’s not like I was ever super into those guys anyway. I just wanted to get my fill of whatever I thought “the college experience” was .
After all, I knew I wasn’t going to taste that kind of freedom again after graduation. At least, not until Ted’s gone .
And I was right—unfortunately .
I didn’t really want to be right .
Tick, tock, tick, tock .
It’s noon already. Normally, Ted emerges from his office—which, by the way, is a real office with windows and everything—at twelve sharp .
I wonder if he’ll finally choke on one of those pieces of chewing gum he always has in his mouth. I hope he does. That way, Mom will finally be free of him .
Sadly, I’ve come to the realization that Mom probably won’t leave Ted, no matter how much I try to persuade her .
For two years, I’ve been trying to save my mom from Ted’s abusive ways. And for two years, I’ve failed .
After my graduation, I could’ve struck out on my own and tried to get a job somewhere else. Maybe I would’ve gotten my own place and some savings by now .
But at the time, I was hoping I’d speak some sense into my mom and she’d kick him out. Then, Mom and I would have the house to ourselves—the house she’d inherited from her parents .
After that, we’d make it on our own. We’d get jobs and become career women together, my mom and I .
My plan was to come home and be some kind of an undercover agent, pretending to be on Ted’s side but secretly destroying him from the inside at the same time. I thought I’d work for him for a few months, tops, before Mom opens her eyes to his abusive ways .
But no such thing happened .
Maybe part of being an adult is to understand that sometimes, even the best intentions and the best plans can’t make something happen, no matter how much I want it .
And maybe there’s a good reason why people move out of their parents’ houses. Maybe it’s time for me to go out there and find my own way, with or without Mom. It’s time for me to create my own life, instead of forcing my idea of what life should be like on Mom .
I mean, who knows? Maybe Mom’s happy. She could be truly happy, even if I can’t imagine myself being content living her life. Maybe I’m the only one who’s miserable around here .
I perk up when I hear a door cracking open. Sitting up in my swivel chair, my heart pounds .
Ted knows I’m leaving and he’s agreed to let me go. But somehow, worry lingers in my heart .
He can be volatile and unpredictable. A phone call could’ve gone badly earlier in the morning, putting him in a foul mood .
He could unleash his frustration on me like he sometimes does, by dumping a ton of work on my desk and forcing me to stay behind until late to deal with it .
He could change his mind at the last minute. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Ted from living with him and Mom the past few years, it’s that he always reserves the right to go back on his word .
His footsteps fall heavily on the tiled floor as he walks down the hallway. My heart races even faster .
While I was packing last night, I briefly considered carrying out a last act of defiance against Ted. I wanted to leave stuff unfinished, on purpose, forcing Ted to deal with a bunch of loose ends. But I knew he was just going to take it out on Mom .
As I watch the doorway, I finally catch a glimpse of Ted .
At first, I see his protruding stomach, then the yellow stains on the armpits of his white shirt (it sickens me to think my mom has to clean
those gross pit stains), then his red face and the comb-over on his bald head .
Without even turning to look at me, he pulls out a cigarette from its packet and holds it between his lips. Mom sometimes reminds him to try quitting, but as far as I’m concerned, the sooner he gets lung cancer and dies, the better .
“Ted,” I say .
He stops in his tracks like he’s surprised to hear my voice, a neon-green lighter in his right hand .
