by Mia Ford
“Jane,” he choked, sliding his hand down to cover mine. “You don’t have to.”
“Guide me,” I told him as he covered my hand and stroked me over him slowly. He was thick and long, making me wonder how this would ever fit inside of me. I stroked him, first gently and then hard, feeling his breath quicken before he jerked forward and warmth flooded our hands as he choked out my name.
The alarm went off again, and Brandon stirred as he rolled towards me. He wrapped me in his arms, feeling me pressed against Brent as his hand slid lazily down my side.
We stayed together every night, taking things just a little bit further every day. The last night is when I knew that I was ready since I’d fallen madly for these men in the short time that we’d known each other. They played my body skillfully before Brent slipped into me for the first time, slow and gentle so I could adjust to him. Brandon stroked my skin as I moaned and whimpered, pinching my nipple once I was ready for Brent to move. Before I went to sleep, I felt Brandon inside of me, gentle so he wouldn’t hurt me. “So wet. So tight. So fucking beautiful,” he told me as he moved above me, kissing me gently. “You’re ours, Jane.”
“Yours,” I agreed as I came for him, feeling him still inside of me before jerking. I had no idea how this was going to work out yet, but I loved these men. I loved them both and as unconventional as that was, it was the truth. Brandon’s words to me only assured me yet again that they felt the same. We planned on a lot of nights at my apartment while we worked through this new situation and some private time in the office until we could sort through that, keeping our relationship under the radar.
I landed in New York with a smile on my face, ready to take this on. I was ready to love these men the best that I could, showing them all my feelings along the way.
The End
BOOK 2: Seduced By Two
BLURB
My whole life, I’ve been a perfect little goody two-shoes. Even at twenty-two years old, I had a life no more exciting than most preteens. My mom and her husband, Dean, made sure that I was sheltered, safe, and incredibly boring.
Maybe it was because Dean’s son Andrew had always been a little on the wild side. Dean was five years older than me, so I never really got to see how Andrew acted when he was young. But now, he wasn’t welcome in Mom and Dean’s house. Maybe, he was a complete bad boy and rebel. He was so dark and sexy, with messy hair, wild eyes, and a grin that could break the most frigid of hearts.
And another thing about Andrew?
I had a hopeless, helpless crush on him.
When I got in a fight with my mom about visiting Boston for a weekend and staying with a girlfriend, I decided that I’d had enough of her rules. But sneaking out didn’t earn me any extra points…instead, Mom decided that I wouldn’t be allowed back inside of her house until I was able to respect her.
I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.
I had to call Andrew.
When Andrew brought me back to his house, my whole life changed. But would I come out on top and stronger than ever?
Or would Andrew be the man to break my heart?
Chapter One
If someone had told me that December twenty-third was the day my life was going to change forever, I wouldn’t have believed them. In fact, I probably would have laughed. Despite always being kind of a Pollyanna, my friends have always told me that I’ve got a very cynical sense of humor.
But I’m getting a little away from myself now. It was a Friday evening, and I was sitting at the kitchen table, working on homework. I was twenty-two years old, and I had no idea what was about to happen.
“Kristin, sweetie, how’s it going?” Mom slid into the chair opposite from me. Everyone always said we looked like twins, but I didn’t see it. She was tall where I’ve always been short for my age. Her hair was blonde to my brown, and her skin was a perfect rosy color whereas mine always looked tinged with yellow, like I had jaundice. Still, we did have the same round cheeks and pouty lips. I always thought Mom was beautiful, like an angel. But when I looked at myself in the mirror, I always wished that I looked like someone else.
“It’s okay,” I said lamely. I showed her what I was working on – a paper concerning the architectural history of the Florentine Cathedral.
Mom nodded. She squinted, looking over her glasses at the page below me. I cringed – I knew she was judging my handwriting.
“Sweetie, don’t use that word,” Mom said, pointing down at the page. “It doesn’t make you sound very smart.”
I nodded. I knew it was probably unusual for Mom to be helping me with my homework now that I was in college, but it didn’t feel weird to me. Mom and I had always been close. Back then, I was a bit sheltered.
Well, okay. Maybe a lot sheltered. But I didn’t mind it – I actually kind of enjoyed being naïve. It was like being safe. I never had to worry about things – Mom and her husband, Dean, took care of everything.
“Okay,” I said, erasing the word and writing a synonym down instead. “Is that better?”
Mom nodded. She smiled, standing up from her chair and walking across the kitchen. “You know I don’t want to help you cheat,” she said. “But I always want to make sure you have good grades. How’s your GPA right now, Kristin?”
I gulped. “Three point nine,” I said quickly. “It’ll be four point zero before the year is up, though. I promise.”
Mom stared at me. “What did we say about letting that drop?”
My cheeks grew hot with embarrassment and I glanced down into my lap. “Um,” I stammered softly. “That it wouldn’t happen.”
“And what else?”
“No matter what,” I added quickly. “That it wouldn’t drop no matter what.”
Mom nodded. She didn’t look happy anymore – she looked stern, like she did when she was upset.
“Well, what happened, Kristin?”
I took a deep breath. At least she’s not using my full name, I thought. I knew that whenever I heard “Kristin Mae Calloway” that meant I was really in trouble!
“I missed a question on a quiz last week.”
“And that was enough to drop your grade?” Mom crossed her arms over her narrow chest and stared. “Are you sure you’re telling the truth?”
Just as I was about to go into a passionate defense of my own studies, the door swung open and Dean walked in.
“Hi, all,” Dean said. He nodded at me, then walked over to Mom and kissed her on the cheek. As soon as I saw his expression, I knew something was up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it, Kristin,” Dean said. He glanced down at me. “Everything okay?”
Mom sighed. I prayed she wouldn’t say anything, but she opened her mouth anyway. “Kristin’s grade point average slipped a little,” she said. She looked at me and smiled. “But we talked, and it’s fine. She’s going to get it back up. She’s working on that right now.”
I could have sighed with relief but instead I smiled back, grateful for such a wonderful, supportive mother.
“Ah,” Dean said. I was surprised that he didn’t have more to say – normally, he was more strict about making sure that I did well in school than Mom was.
“Honey?” Mom turned to Dean. “What happened? You’re home so early.”
Dean shrugged. “I got a call,” he said slowly, keeping his eyes on me. “You know. About Andrew.”
Instantly, my ears perked up. I couldn’t wait to hear what Dean was about to say – if I was lucky enough to be allowed to stay in the room. Andrew Medina, Dean’s son, was my stepbrother. He was five years older than me, and endlessly cool. I’d always had a little…well, I don’t really know what to call it. But as soon as he walked into the room, my eyes always went right to him. It was like I couldn’t look away. Not because of anything bad, though. While I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, the way I felt about Andrew was almost like I had a crush on him.
Honestly, it was hard not to feel that way. He was
so handsome – sexy, messy dark hair that stood up in cowlicks all over his head. Dark, intense eyes. A chiseled jaw covered with dark scruff. I especially loved the way he looked at people – almost like he could see right through them.
The first time I met Andrew, I was sixteen. He was twenty-one, and finishing up college in Boston. I didn’t know anything about him – Dean had always talked about “my son” this and “my son” that, but it wasn’t like the anecdotes were actually personal. It was stuff like, “my son loves oranges,” or “my son hated doing this, too.”
So, I was completely unprepared when I actually met Andrew. I hadn’t really known what to expect. Dean himself was a pretty normal, stand-up guy – the exact kind of guy I always saw Mom going for. I imagined that his son, Andrew, would just be like a tiny version of him.
Needless to say, I was really shocked when Andrew pulled into the driveway and swaggered into the house. There were no other words for it – he was just cool. He had longish dark hair that he kept pushing away from his forehead in a messy, practiced gesture. His dark eyes sought out all of the movement in the room. When he saw me, he stared. First his eyes traveled down my face, then my body. When I realized that he was lingering on my breasts, I blushed bright red.
“So you’re Kristin?”
I nodded. My mouth felt dry and I was getting weak in the knees. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m Kristin. You’re Andrew?”
Instead of answering, Andrew licked his lips (they were surprisingly full, for a man) and gave a brief jerk of his head. His dark hair went flying and my palms itched – suddenly, I was desperate to know what it would feel like if I ran my fingers through his dark locks.
Andrew smirked. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”
I licked my lips. “Fun?”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “Yeah, fun,” he replied. He leaned closer, putting his hands on the dining room table until he was mere inches away from my face.
“I study,” I said. A peculiar feeling was spreading through my limbs – a blend of excitement and arousal and the odd sensation that Andrew was making fun of me, even though he hadn’t said anything to that effect.
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “Studying,” he drawled. “Yeah, that does sound fun.” He peered intently into my eyes and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “I bet you really know how to throw a party, Sis.”
My cheeks burned flame red and I shook my head fast enough to make my brown curls obscure my vision.
“I can’t really go to parties,” I said. I was mortified – my voice was barely above a whisper. I desperately wanted Andrew to think I was cool, too, but I was doing such a piss-poor job of it that I might as well just give up and slink upstairs.
“Well, here’s the thing with good ole Mom and Dad,” Andrew said sarcastically. “They only know what you tell them. So, if you wanna have fun, you gotta do that on your own time.”
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his black leather jacket and lit up, right in the middle of the kitchen. Wreaths of blue smoke clouded around Andrew’s head, rising up to the shiny white ceiling that Mom and Dean had painted just days before.
“I don’t think Mom and Dean would like you doing that,” I said, unable to stop myself. Andrew just smirked in response. I winced and blushed – god! It was like I couldn’t fuck up any more if I actually tried!
“Well, I do lots of stuff Dad wouldn’t like,” Andrew said. He exhaled right in my face and I started coughing violently as the toxic smoke rushed into my lungs. Before I could get a chance to ask him what he’d meant, Mom and Dean rushed into the room and as I’d predicted, began scolding Andrew about smoking in their house.
That had been six years ago. Even though I’d grown up from a teenager into a young woman, I knew deep down that I was still the perfect goody two-shoes, the little princess who listened to every word that came out of Mommy or Daddy’s mouth.
No wonder Andrew thinks I’m a drip, I thought as I watched Mom and Dean exchange a terse look.
“So, what happened?” Mom tried to keep her voice down. I was staring down at my papers, but my ears were glued to the mouths of my parents. I was desperate to hear what they had to say about Andrew – it was the most thrilling thing that had happened to me in at least six months.
“Carissa,” Dean said. I imagined him jerking his head towards me. “Shouldn’t we talk upstairs?”
Mom sighed. I got ready for the inevitable – surely, she and Dean would tell me to leave the room. But what she said shocked me.
“I think Kristin is old enough to hear what Andrew is really like,” Mom said. She flicked her gaze over me. I felt my cheeks flush as I pretended again to be absorbed in my studies.
“Well, if you’re sure,” Dean said slowly. My heart was pounding in my chest as Dean and Mom walked over to the table and sat down.
Play it cool, Kristin, I told myself. Just play it cool. It’ll be fine. I knew I was acting ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it – this was a huge deal for me.
“What happened?” I glance up from my schoolwork at Mom and Dean, trying to read their faces.
“Andrew has always been…difficult,” Dean said tightly. He smiled unhappily. “And while your mother and I have always tried to help, I think that he’s beyond help right now.”
I frowned. “Why? What did he do?”
Mom sighed. “Honey, it’s not really a question of what he did. It’s more of who he is, really.”
“I’m confused.” I bit my lip. It wasn’t a lie. I was so sheltered that I truly didn’t have any idea of what constituted as a “bad” person. If you’d asked me to name someone who was bad, I probably would have replied: “someone who doesn’t pay their cell phone bill on time.”
“Well, honey, don’t worry about it too much,” Mom said with a sigh. She turned to Dean. “What did you hear?”
“He was living with another man,” Dean said through gritted teeth.
I frowned. “Like a roommate?”
“No,” Dean said sharply. “They shared a bedroom.” He and my mother exchanged another dark look. “And it was sinful, Kristin. Do you understand?”
My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed. Was Andrew….gay? The thought alone made me blush. I’d never met a gay person before. My best friend, Megan, had kissed another girl at a party once and it had been one of the most scandalous things I’d ever witnessed. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be intimate with someone of my same sex. The thought was honestly pretty disturbing.
“I understand,” I said quietly.
“How long has this been going on?” Mom asked.
“I have no idea,” Dean said. He sighed, making it clear that this matter weighed heavily on his conscience. “But the private investigator told me that it looks like Andrew and this…other man…were very established in a relationship.”
“Oh my god,” Mom said. “I had no idea, Dean. He needs help.”
“He’s an adult,” Dean said sharply. “He’s free to sin, he’s free to make decisions that will damn him.” He looked at me and I shrank in my chair. “Kristin, do you realize that your stepbrother is a deviant? That he’s not normal?” Dean raised his eyebrows, making it clear that I was supposed to agree.
“Right,” I squeaked. “He’s not normal.”
“No he’s not,” Mom agreed firmly. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. “Kristin, please leave us. Your stepfather and I have some important things to discuss.”
As I ran up the stairs and darted into my room, I couldn’t help but feel relieved. Oddly, the news about Andrew wasn’t exactly shocking. He’d always been a little different. The weird thing was, I didn’t understand why Mom and Dean were so upset. I mean, sure, it was a sin in the eyes of God…at least, that’s what our Baptist preacher said every week. But it didn’t mean Andrew was any different as a person, right? I mean, if he’d always been like this. I didn’t know what the big deal was.
I normally wasn’t allowed to close my b
edroom door for any reason other than changing clothes, but I shut the door quietly behind me and grabbed my laptop from my schoolbag. When I checked my email, it was mostly spam. But I did see an email from my best friend, Megan. Eagerly, I clicked on it.
“Hey girl,
I’m going to Boston for the weekend – I’m gonna stay with my cousin, Amanda. Do you want to come? I bet you’re really wanting a break by now.
Xoxoxo,
Megan”
Instantly, my mood lifted. I definitely wanted to go – even though there was slim chance of my parents allowing it, I was dying to get out of the house.
I just wished they weren’t so upset about Andrew. Maybe that’s a good thing, I thought as I skimmed over Megan’s email for what felt like the fifth time. Maybe since they’re distracted, they won’t even think about it.
