The Brothers Next Door (A Striker Brothers Romance #1)

by Terry Towers

  The Brothers Next Door

  Description:

  He left a thank-you note on my night-side table!

  Imagine my surprise when on moving day I discover my one-night stand is now my new neighbor, Nate.

  Last weekend, the hot NYPD officer gave me the night of my life. He looks almost as handsome in uniform as out of uniform. I wait for him to say something like… ‘You were amazing.’ Or ‘What a night’. Or maybe, ‘Dinner? My place?’

  Sounds reasonable, right? After all, Nate left me hoarse from screaming his name, and aching from doing it in every position known to man. He also left me without a goodbye. Just a note. A freaking thank-you note. So, maybe I shouldn’t be too surprised when he eyes me up and down and says three very different words.

  ‘Have we met?’

  Bastard. At least that’s what I thought.

  But, it turns out Officer Casanova has a twin brother. Darrin.

  Nate didn’t forget me. In fact, he has plans for me, plans that include his brother and both of them having their dirty, wicked way with me. These gorgeous, sexy, demanding men want to share me. Sounds like a girl's dream come true, right? But what if a time comes when I have to choose?

  Table Of Contents

  The Brothers Next Door

  After a night of epic sex, he left a thank-you note on my night-side table!

  Imagine my surprise on moving day when I discover my one-night stand is now my new neighbor, Nate.

  Last weekend, the hot NYPD officer gave me the night of my life. He looks almost as handsome in uniform as out of uniform. I wait for him to say something like… ‘You were amazing.’ Or ‘What a night’. Or maybe, ‘Dinner? My place?’

  Sounds reasonable, right? After all, Nate left me hoarse from screaming his name, and aching from doing it in every position known to man. He also left me without a goodbye. Just a note. A freaking thank-you note. So, maybe I shouldn’t be too surprised when he eyes me up and down and says three very different words.

  ‘Have we met?’

  Bastard. That’s what I thought for a second.

  But, it turns out Officer Casanova has a twin brother. Darrin.

  Nate didn’t forget me. In fact, he has plans for me, plans that include his brother and both of them having their dirty, wicked way with me. These gorgeous, sexy, demanding men want to share me. Sounds like a girl's dream come true, right? But what if a time comes when I have to choose?

  Forbidden Indulgences

  What can be hotter than one smoking hot firefighter trying to win your heart? Two of them!

  Before leaving for college Ivy Sullivan took a chance and opened her heart to her close friend and town heartthrob, Ethan Rogue. His rejection had been swift and devastating. He didn't need to tell her the reason for his rejection; she was the chubby girl, a fun girl to hang out with, but not girlfriend material.

  One rejection - weight gone - now could she be the sexy woman she always dreamed of?

  But Ethan's rejection gave Ivy the motivation to reinvent herself and she comes back to her hometown with one goal in mind - revenge. She's determined to show Ethan and his best friend Trey, both of whom were notorious for breaking the hearts of every woman they dated, what it feels like be treated as insignificant.

  There's only one problem ... Ivy isn't the only one who has changed.

  Now both firefighters, Ethan and Trey have changed. They're no longer the arrogant jocks they used to be, but sexy, caring men who are genuinely looking for a woman to share their lives with. And they have both set their sights on Ivy. While the old Ivy would have spent days agonizing over which hot guy she wanted this is no longer the case, because Ivy knows ....

  She wants them both!

  Failure to Stop

  Since when did the procedure for giving someone a ticket for running a stop sign include a very hands-on pat-down against the hood of my car, not even giving me a chance to see his face? I swear, cop or not he’s getting very close to getting Tasered; my hand was mere inches from the Taser in my open purse. But despite the high inappropriateness of his pat-down there was something very familiar about the way he was touching me – even the scent of his cologne triggered familiarity.

  I never dreamed when the inappropriate, yet highly erotic frisking was over that I’d be standing face to face with my former high school sweetheart, town troublemaker and love of my life Devon Land. But there he was with a cocky smirk, looking sexier than I remembered and thoroughly enjoying my shock.

  One big mistake cost me the upscale life in New York I’d grown to love, forcing me to return home to Alabama. I swore I’d never move back to my small town, I’d outgrown it, but with a temptation like Devon intent on reminding me of the life I’d left behind can I leave a second time?

  Excerpt from Strictly Research

  Falling for a fantasy... or two....

  "If it doesn't melt your panties, I'm not doing my job."

  My name is Monica and I'm a romance author. My readers all think I'm tearing up the sheets with one hot hunk after another.

  Yeah, right. Only in my dreams, and in my books. My bed sees less action than Sunday night at the bingo hall.

  So what's a newly-single romance author to do?

  Two weeks of whatever, and whoever, I can get my hands on in Amsterdam, that's what. It's time to unleash my inner heroine, no strings attached, tax-deductible, intellectual, and purely sexual. You know... RESEARCH PURPOSES ONLY.

  I expect to experience a wild week or two, acquire some knowledge so I can write what I know, so I don't feel like a fraud. I never dreamed that I would meet two drop-to-your-knees-gorgeous men who would make my fantasies a reality or fall for me as quickly as I fell for them.

  The Brothers Next Door

  Copyright 2017 by Terry Towers

  Cover By:

  Kevin McGrath

  Kevin Does Covers

  All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. Terry Towers can be contacted via her website at www.elixaeverett.com

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via internet or other means, electronic or print without the authors permission. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov.ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

  The material in this book is intended for ages 18+ it may contain adult subject matter including explicit sexual content, profanity, drug use and violence.

  The Brothers Next Door (A Striker Brothers Romance)

  By

  Terry Towers

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  Chapter 1

  Layla

  “This really isn’t me,” I said to my friend Misty, crinkling up my nose as I looked down at the red mini-dress I was wearing. It was a frivolous over-the-top purchase made due to the insistence of my friend. In my mind, the skirt was too short and
the top was too low cut—it fell halfway down my chest. If the material shifted just a smidge, my breasts would be out for the world to see. I can’t say that I trusted the adhesive that was supposed to hold everything in place.

  Why do women do this to themselves? I thought. Really, it wasn’t like men were going to such lengths as to be placing adhesive in intimate places just to entice women. They showered, rolled on some anti-perspirant, and away they went. Lucky bastards.

  Misty rolled her eyes at me, flipping a strand of curly blonde hair over her shoulder. “Oh please. What happened to you over the past few years?”

  “What do you mean?” We’d been at the nightclub for a mere twenty minutes and the ungodly high heels were already killing my feet, pinching at the toes and causing the ball of my foot to throb. Was four inch heels really necessary? I say nay nay. Misty on the other hand, had insisted.

  Peer pressure. I groaned inwardly. I was twenty-six years old and still bowing to peer pressure? Pathetic. I was truly and completely pathetic.

  Planting her hands on her hips, Misty pinned me with a ‘oh please’ stare. “Have you completely forgotten your time at college? Time in the sorority?”

  Memories of my days partying in college made my cheeks burn as I gave her a little cringe. Okay, she had me there. I’d done a lot of things in my college years that I wasn’t so proud of now. However, once college was over, so were my wild party days, as they gave way to a settled, suburban life. “Let me rephrase, this isn’t me—now. I’ve grown up a lot since college.”

  “Then, the ‘now’ you has become quite a prude. I’m actually glad you got away from that guy you were dating.”

  “Engaged to,” I corrected, not that it mattered. I’m not engaged anymore, I silently added. As of three weeks ago, that was old news. That was why I’d moved back to New York City from Bangor, Maine.

  “Yeah, whatever. That man was an accountant, how much more boring can you get.”

  Slightly insulted, I pulled myself up to my full height of 5’5”, tilting up my chin and squaring my shoulders. “I’m also an accountant. Does that make me boring?” Sure, being an accountant hadn’t been my first choice in careers—not many girls grow up dreaming of being an accountant—but I was good at it and it paid well. There were worse jobs out there.

  She grimaced. “You never used to be.” Tilting her head to the side, she eyed me for a moment. “Now, I’m not too sure. It’s been three years since you left and correct me if I’m wrong, but I doubt that Bangor is a hotbed of excitement. You’re not some middle-aged woman with a husband and five kids in tow. You’re a beautiful career woman in the prime of her life. Act like it.”

  “Bangor is a nice city. Got lots of amenities.” I shrugged. “Yes, it’s not New York City, but then again, no place is.”

  “Exactly.” She leaned forward and gave me a quick hug. “That’s why I’m glad you’re home. That dude you were with sucked the life out you.”

  “No.” I pulled out of her embrace and frowned. “No. That’s not it. We just had a different lifestyle.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “You moved away from the city for him. Your home, the best city in the world. And what did he do? He cheated on you and dumped you. You’re better off. And for his secretary no less! So now it’s time to unleash the woman I know you are and get rid of that librarian persona you came home with.”

  While a part of me felt angry right now, there was another part of me that couldn’t be, because I knew she was right. Yes, I needed to grow up after college and act responsibly. Being an accountant required that you put on a front of professionalism and maturity; after all, you were overseeing and advising clients on their life savings which in many cases equalled millions. No one would take a loose cannon seriously, especially in a city as small as Bangor where it seemed like everyone knew everyone else.

  Perhaps along the way my ambition to build a career for myself and my wanting to be the perfect woman for Craig had caused me to lose part of myself. That realization didn’t make me feel very good. One of the main laws of being a woman in a relationship was that you shouldn’t lose yourself for a man. I was embarrassed to say I did.

  Misty was right and that thought was a hard pill to swallow.

  “So, are you going to stop complaining and have some fun? You look hot and you know what they say.” She smiled, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

  “What do they say?”

  “The best way to get over a man is to get under a new one. And your body is rocking that dress.” She snapped her fingers with a wave of the hand for flair.

  Laughing, I gave my head a shake as I redirected my gaze from Misty and out into the crowd. It was Friday night and the club was packed, hundreds of bodies entwined, bumping and grinding against each other to the dance music. They were happy and laughing, enjoying each other. I wanted to be one of those people. I hadn’t been in a nightclub since I graduated and moved with Craig to Maine. It felt strange, but also exhilarating. The night was filled with possibilities, at least that was what I was telling myself.

  “So now what? I’m a little out of practice.”

  She slid my drink to me. A double gin. “First you drink a couple of these. If we play our cards right those’ll be the last we’ll have to pay for ourselves for the rest of the night.”

  Cocking a brow at her, I took the glass and downed the contents. It burned as the first gulp slid down my throat and I gagged a little as I set the glass back down. I almost immediately felt a little tingle of light-headedness. It had been a while since I’d drank anything heavier than the occasional glass of wine with dinner.

  “You know, maybe I’ve changed more than I realized.” Though I really shouldn’t have put much weight into that conclusion, considering it was based on the amount of alcohol I could consume. Or lack thereof. I seriously doubted I could get more than two of those in me before I was faceplanting.

  “But you’re back now.” She smiled, displaying a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. When we were in college Misty’s teeth had been a bit of a mess and she’d always been self-conscious about smiling wide enough to display her teeth, which featured a gap between the front two and a crooked canine. It was evident she’d had some serious work done. It paid off—she looked stunning.

  “I am.”

  “So now we find you the perfect candidate.” She leaned forward over the small wooden two-person bar table.

  I scanned the crowd with her, admittedly feeling overwhelmed. It had been quite a while since I’d been on a first date or slept with anyone other than Craig. It was easy enough for Misty to say ‘all I had to do’ was fuck a few guys to get my ex out of my system, but I didn’t really know if I could.

  Continuing to scan the crowd, I saw everything from the classic tall, dark, and handsome to men who were built like linebackers, no doubt spending most of their free time in the gym and everything else in between. Then, of course, there were the men who I wouldn’t touch if my life depended on it.

  “What about that one?” Misty pointed to a blonde-haired man of average height standing at the bar. He was lean with a nice profile, and he certainly had potential. “Or that one.” She pointed to a dark-haired man with a bodybuilder stature.

  I shook my head. “Too much muscle. He’d crush me in the sack.”

  “Besides, you know what they say about men with too much muscle,” a deep male voice said from behind me.

  “No, what?” I replied without thinking, then groaned inwardly, hating that some dude was going to try and butt into our discussion as a way to strike up a conversation. I didn’t bother to turn to face him, hoping he’d just go away.

  “Over compensating,” he replied, undeterred.

  Rolling my eyes, I looked over my shoulder, half-way turning. I wasn’t even going to give him the privilege of a full turn. My lips parted as I was about to tell him that this was a girls’ only conversation and he wasn’t included, when my eyes locked with a pair of the most stunning dark bl
ue eyes I’d ever seen. When my eyes finished their visual feast of his, my gaze lowered to his lips, which had turned into a cocky little grin as he began to speak again. I watched his lips move as if in a trance.

  “By the look you just gave me, I’m going to assume this is a girls’ night only and by interrupting it came off as more annoying than charming.”

  “I, ummm.” My cheeks grew warm as I cringed. I wasn’t normally a rude person, honestly. Him calling me out on it made me feel bad.

  “Come on now, I’m trying to work on my pick-up lines. Your input would be really appreciated.”

  Laughing, I shrugged, turning to face him fully. Okay, so perhaps he had some charm, I’d give credit where credit was due. “It wasn’t the best line. But I’ve heard worse.”

  The man standing before me laughed along with me a moment. “Okay, then how about we do this the old-fashioned way?” He extended his hand to me. “I’m Nate, nice to meet you.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, I accepted his hand. “Layla.” I really hoped he wasn’t so corny as to sing a line from Eric Clapton’s “Layla”. I’d had men do that to me in the past, and it made me embarrassed for both myself and them.

  “Beautiful name.” His smile widened as his eyes quickly did a sweep of my body, pausing at my cleavage. He didn’t pause long enough to come off as creepy, just long enough for me to notice. Modesty was screaming for me to cover myself up, but I ignored the temptation. Not like I had anything to cover up with anyhow. Wasn’t the whole point of coming here, to quote Misty, to get under a new man. And Nate seemed to be as good as any—at least as far as appearances went. We’d see about the rest.