FOSTER BROTHERS - A MFM Menage Romance

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FOSTER BROTHERS - A MFM Menage Romance Page 4

by Samantha Twinn


  And she does. She really does. She comes and comes and comes, squeezing my cock until I do as I promised. I fill her up.

  And later, when we relax in that moment of quiet after fucking amazing sex and she snuggles into me, she fills me up inside a little too.

  9

  River: Why are you here, Raven?

  Raven: I don’t know. Well, I have some issues. It makes it hard for me to connect, to be intimate.

  River: So you hook up with strangers?

  Raven: I thought it would be easier. That I could try and get comfortable with who I am and what I want and don’t want with someone that I’m never going to see again. That way, if I fuck things up it won’t matter.

  River: And did it work?

  Raven: I never found the courage to go through with it.

  River: Never?

  Raven: I never found someone I had enough of a connection with. Turns out I need to trust someone.

  River: I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that.

  Raven: Why?

  River: Because I don’t believe you can work through issues with a stranger, little bird. I think you’ve gotta find a way to work them out within yourself. And when you’ve done some healing that way, you need to find someone who loves you and who’ll cherish you.

  Raven: But what if I can’t do that, River? What if I can’t ever let myself?

  River: You can, baby. I know you can.

  10

  FLINT

  I’m bruised, sweaty, and tired down to the very marrow of my bones. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, seeing as how this is what I do for a living. Your average Joe can go home after he’s finished his shift and chill. Me, I have to ice down the worst injuries, clean and bandage any cuts, and then eat like a horse. Believe me, I like my job, but sometimes even the side effects of your life’s passion can annoy the hell out of you.

  Red is driving and that’s good because I can’t keep my eyes open. It seems weird to be driven by your friend’s kid brother but I guess I have to get used to it. Things are changing. Red fiddles with the radio and leaves it playing an old Journey song from back in the day. It reminds me of one of my foster fathers, one who wasn’t too mean and liked to share his love of rock in long monologues that we used to listen to intently. It makes me think of dancing, with my brother and the other kids that lived with us.

  “This song reminds me of Bob,” I say.

  Red was around in those days too. Another kid growing up in another shithole. “You think he ever sees you on the TV and thinks about the old days?”

  Maybe he does. Maybe I should pay him a visit one day. I’d like to but I know it wouldn’t go well. He was a good guy but he was always down on his luck, and I’m not going to be anyone’s meal ticket. “He’s more of a baseball fan, isn’t he?”

  “I guess.”

  We’re not far from home and I stretch my legs, feeling a particularly sore spot just behind my knee. I know that it’ll swell by the morning.

  “You did good tonight,” Red says.

  I’m not really that impressed with my performance. I was distracted, thinking about Hudson and the fact that he hadn’t come to watch me. It’s not like I need him watching or anything, just that I could tell he had something going on to make him cancel at the last minute, like he did. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with my big brother, especially these days. “I did okay. Just enough to win.”

  “Isn’t that what it’s about?”

  “Yeah, but you know I like to win well.”

  I catch Red’s smirk. “That commentator was all over you like flies on shit,” he says.

  I turn to gaze out of the window. The car purrs as we speed towards home. Sometimes I feel like a fraud, driving around in a luxury SUV to our house on the hill. It’s not like it’s a recent upgrade. We’ve been living well since Hudson went pro, but it still feels like we’re living someone else’s life. Extra’s in a rap video. Frauds. Nobodies like we used to be.

  The roads are practically empty so we get home fast. Hudson’s bike is in the drive and I breathe a sigh of relief now that I know he’s home. Red jumps out of the car and grabs my bag and I slide out like the wounded soldier I am. Every step reveals another injury. I get a day off tomorrow but then I’ll be back on the training and it’s gonna hurt.

  When we open the front door and make our way inside, I see Hudson’s leather jacket on the floor. My heart pounds, because my brother is a serious neat freak and there is no way he’d just discard a $500 jacket like that without a reason. Then I spot what looks like a heeled boot poking out from beneath it. What the fuck? I make my way over to the strange black pile and pick up Hudson’s jacket. Beneath it are some seriously sexy black women’s boots.

  “What’s that, Flint?” Red asks, coming to stand at my side, following my gaze.

  “Women’s boots,” I say. We look at each other, both frowning. It’s not like my brother is a monk, but he made a rule a few months ago, and this is the first time he’s broken it that I know of.

  Red looks up the stairs and raises his eyebrows. “Interesting.”

  “Sure is.”

  “You think we should check on him?”

  “I do, but I think I’ll sort myself out first. Give him a chance to appear.”

  Red nods and hefts my heavy bag towards the kitchen where I know he’ll unpack it and put all my dirty stuff in the washer. The benefits of having an assistant I can trust.

  I pad quietly up to my room and hit the shower, soaping myself down and inspecting my body as I usually do. The floor of the shower is pink at first, watered-down blood and sweat washing away. I sit on the bench and breathe slowly, holding my head in my hands and letting the water run over me.

  My head is pounding from the blows I took earlier in the night and I rub my hands over my shorn hair, pressing at my temples. I miss the curls I used to have, the same as my brother's, but it isn’t practical for work.

  Despite the fact that I’m running on empty, my cock stirs between my legs. The water dripping down feels good and it’s been a few weeks since I got any decent action. I think about Hudson and the girl in our house whose footwear was discarded so casually. She must be something really special for him to bring her home. I actually feel a sense of relief that he’s acting more like his old self. He hasn’t been the same since he lost his place on the team. That was when he lost the thing that gave him the most pleasure. Then he decided to cut out women and booze and, to be honest, living. If this girl can put some pep in his step, then I couldn’t be happier.

  I switch off the shower and towel myself dry as carefully as I can. In my bedroom I grab clean sweats and a t-shirt, then I treat my cuts and head down to the kitchen. Red is sitting at the counter, looking at his phone. Probably checking out some of the MMA sites for their commentary on my performance tonight. He keeps more on top of my public image than I do.

  “I’m gonna knock for Hudson, okay?”

  “You think that’s wise? What if you’re interrupting something?”

  “I can’t hear anything, can you?”

  “Well, they might be quiet.”

  I roll my eyes, remembering some of Hudson’s more vocal performances.

  “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Red chuckles, his dimples out in full force.

  “The good old days, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  I turn and follow the hallway to Hudson’s door, stopping to listen for any noises. It’s quiet so I knock gently.

  After a while, the door opens and Hudson appears, looking tired and messy-haired.

  “What’s up?” he says, his voice gravelly with sleep.

  “Just checking on you, bro. Everything okay?” I peer into the room at the girl who’s asleep on Hudson’s bed, totally lost to the world. The light from the hallway casts a yellow arc across her form, illuminating short blonde hair and a slim figure.

  “Yeah. I guess.” He rubs his eyes and looks over his shoulder.<
br />
  “You brought someone back?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Who is she?” I ask. He cancelled on me tonight so I’m assuming he was going to meet her.

  “I have no fucking idea.” He sounds tired and somewhat confused. I look at him closely, worried.

  “Where did you pick her up from?”

  “Club Forbidden.”

  I raise my eyebrows because I know what my brother goes to that place to do, and it never involves bringing the girls home. “Wow.”

  “It wasn’t arranged,” he says.

  “So you just picked her up?”

  “I think it was her that did the picking,” he says. I can’t help smiling at that. Hudson is one huge dude, and the idea that the tiny girl on the bed could make him do anything he didn’t want to do is very amusing to me.

  Red appears behind me and leans into the room, looking at sleeping beauty. The door opens wider and the extra light brings her into clearer focus. For a second I worry that we might disturb her and totally freak her out. Who wants to wake up to find a bunch of huge strangers watching them?

  “Dude, you pulled,” Red says. “She looks cute.”

  “She is.” Hudson rolls his shoulders like he’s recovering from a workout. The kind of workout I need!

  The girl on the bed stirs, rolling slightly and I think I see something on her back. A birthmark in a distinctive lopsided heart shape. A birthmark very similar to one that I’ve seen before.

  “Hudson, what’s that girl's name?” I ask, wondering if I’m seeing things or if tonight is just a ridiculous ball of coincidence. First that song comes on the radio that reminds me of Bob. Then I think I see our old foster sister’s birthmark on a semi-naked stranger’s back. Maybe I’ve had too many blows to the head.

  “I have no fucking idea. I call her Tink, but not to her face.” He smiles to himself and I lean forward, trying to get a better look.

  “She look familiar to you?” I hope he’s going to say no, but instead, he turns to me and frowns.

  “Funny you should say that. I keep getting this feeling that I’ve seen her before. Like she’s familiar or something.”

  “Has she got green-blue eyes?”

  Red turns and looks at me, then whips around to look back at our sleeping guest.

  “Yeah. Beautiful eyes,” Hudson says. He still hasn’t realized what I’m getting at, but Red has.

  “Fuck me, is that Missi?” he says loudly, as though he’s guessed the final question in a quiz show and is about to win a million dollars.

  Hudson looks at Red like he’s talking in another language, seemingly trying to absorb the words into his sleep-addled brain.

  “Missi?”

  “Our sister, Missi,” I whisper, realization finally knocking the breath from my lungs.

  I watch as the same realization hits Hudson like a block of concrete. He stares into the room, as we all do, at a person we loved a long time ago, and lost in a childhood that was filled with broken relationships and promises. I get a flash memory of Missi as a little girl, blonde curls bouncing as she jumped on our bed, laughing so hard she could hardly breathe, and another where we were all taking an afternoon nap and she had her head resting on my chest, stroking my arm.

  I think about the way Hudson loved her. Like a brother, but it was more. He felt responsible for her in a way that was almost fatherly. He was seven years older than her, but still a boy.

  My big brother seems to shrink before my eyes, shoulders hunching as he sags against the door frame.

  “Missi,” he whispers, and it’s a word filled with both awe and horror.

  “Missi,” I say, because that’s the way it is with us. Together in all things. Together forever. Nothing between us.

  Except, here is Missi. The only person I ever loved as much as I love my brother. But instead of the reunion I always imagined we might have, we’re looking at her almost naked form in Hudson’s bed.

  Sometimes you can feel that a moment in your life is going to change everything. My heart hurts as I process the fact that my big brother had sex with Missi, the long-ago baby he found by a dumpster and fought to keep, until life stole her away and broke his heart.

  11

  River: I was listening to the radio today and they played this old Bob Marley track.

  Raven: Oh yeah? I didn’t have you down for a reggae fan.

  River: I’m not really. It’s just, there’s this line in the song. He says, ‘Open your eyes and look within. Are you happy with the life you’re living?’

  Raven: And it made you think?

  River: It made me feel like shit.

  Raven: Why, baby?

  River: Because I’m making a mess of things, Raven. Badly. But I don’t know how to do it any differently.

  Raven: You’re doing fine, River. You always seem like you know what you want.

  River: I’m drifting, Raven. I’ve been drifting all my life. And it’s just getting worse. I make the worst decisions for myself. And I do things that I think will protect me, but they only make things worse.

  Raven: Like what?

  River: Like what I do here.

  Raven: You do this to protect yourself? From what?

  River: From feeling.

  12

  MISSI

  I don’t want to move. I’m somewhere so warm, that feels so safe. I don’t normally sleep this well. I sink into the softness, willing the voices that woke me from my pleasure-drugged sleep to go away.

  Wait, voices?

  I push up and squint towards the light spilling through the open doorway and across the bed. Huge, obviously male figures fill the frame. River is standing behind the two figures, watching me.

  I snatch at the silky covers and pull them around my shoulders. I search out River's eyes, looking for reassurance that I'm safe, that he's protecting me, but all I see is confusion and terror written across his beautiful face before he backs away down the hall. Seeing the three men standing there drives home the fact that I really don't know River at all. I love him, yes, but know him? Trust him? In the chat room, yes. Here in real life, no. Trust isn’t something I have a lot of anymore.

  One of the figures step forward and memories of my foster father flood my brain and snap me into full awareness as fear floods my body. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m not anyone’s play thing. If River thought it would be fun to share me, he’s about to find out different.

  “Get the fuck out!” I hiss.

  I search the bedside tabletop and latch onto a remote tucked up near the lamp. I fling it at the men still standing there, still staring at me. The remote bounces off the doorframe. I reach for the lamp next, tugging at the cord. I’ll bash heads if they come near me.

  The red-haired guy chuckles, “Ain’t she just a little wildcat.”

  “Fuck you! Out, get out! Get the fuck away from me!” I scramble for my clothes and struggle to pull them on under the cover of the sheet. What the hell? Why are they still here gawping at me? Can’t they see how fucking inappropriate it is?

  “Out of my way,” I snarl as I push through the two large bodies still standing in the doorway, still gawking at me. River isn't in the hallway anymore. I spin around and pin the two men with my eyes.

  “Where'd he go?”

  The tall, muscular one rubs his hand nervously over his closely cropped hair. Damn, he’s gorgeous, just like River. They could be brothers. I squint at him while he tries to come up with a response. "He, ah, he needs a couple of minutes…"

  “And you’re what…waiting around to babysit me?”

  They both look a little stunned. They’re not acting predatory in any way, but that could all be a front. I’ve seen the darkness inside men. Fucked up things that no one should have to see. I know they can smile on the outside while their insides are slick with evil.

  They're both still eyeing me as I back down the hall, keeping close to the wall, watching them like a hawk.

  Running down the stairs,
I look around, noting my boots and River's leather jacket still flung across the foyer floor. I peer into a doorway, looking for any sign of River. I don't know where he's gone and I'm pretty damn sure I don't need to be here anymore. In fact, when I hear the sound of feet hitting the stairs, I know damn well I don't need to be here anymore.

  “Hey, you okay, honey?” The red-haired guy actually sounds concerned.

  “I'd be a hell of a lot better if I could get the fuck out of here.” Where'd River go? I could use a ride home…or cab fare. I was so stupid coming out here by myself like this, but what happened at the club wasn’t enough. It never would have been enough.

  I'm terrified, so scared of being here with two strangers. I've learned to protect myself over the years though, with my mouth and anything else I can get my hands on. Some men don't like to deal with a mouthy woman and back off if you give them the harsh side of your tongue. When you’re as tiny as me, you gotta hope that words are enough. They're still staring at me like I have two heads.

  “Well,” I say, “do one of you assholes want to find the other asshole for me? I'd really like to get the fuck out of here.”

  They haven't moved, still staring, mouths hanging open.

  “No? Okay then, I'll find him myself.”

  I shove the redhead to one side and start back upstairs, determined to find River and have him drop me off at the coffee shop near my apartment. I love him, God I love him, but I knew that tonight was my only night. My one chance to be near him, breathe him in and feel him around me. I didn't know what I expected to happen. Happily ever after? Not hardly. I know he’s almost as screwed up in the head as I am, but I didn't expect him to leave me alone with two strangers.

  Stomping back up the stairs, I take in the framed photographs that line the stairwell. I hadn't noticed them before. Hours ago my eyes had only seen River. There are pictures of River on the sidelines of a football field; the tall guy wearing boxing gloves and tapping hands with someone who looks familiar; pictures of them on a beach, looks like Hawaii, with the red-head guy, all saluting the photographer with frosty beer bottles. One picture looks out of place though, and something catches my eye enough to double back to take another look.

 

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