Addicted: Callie Blake and Bryan (A Sterling Brothers Romance Book 5)

  Addicted

  A Sterling Brothers Romance

  (Erotic Romance, MFM Menage, Twincest, M/M, BDSM)

  © 2016

  By Cassandra Dee

  Want to hear about my newest billionaire romance? Addicted to alpha males with a streak of arrogance and loads of sex appeal? Join my mailing list at https://tinyletter.com/cassandradee and get THREE FREE BOOKS unavailable elsewhere!

  This copy of Addicted includes complimentary copies of Books 1-4 of the Sterling Brothers Series. Read them in order or use the links below to jump to your favorite book.

  Addicted (Callie, Blake and Bryan) – Book 5

  Ruthless (Jake) -- Book 1

  Obsessed (Matt) – Book 2

  Scandal (Caden and Caleb) – Book 3

  Crazy (Jenna) – Book 4

  Addicted

  A Sterling Brothers Romance

  (Erotic Romance, MFM Menage, Twincest, M/M, BDSM)

  © 2016

  By Cassandra Dee

  Want to hear about my newest billionaire romance? Addicted to alpha males with a streak of arrogance and loads of sex appeal? Join my mailing list at https://tinyletter.com/cassandradee and get THREE FREE BOOKS unavailable elsewhere!

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  Part Two

  Part Three

  Part Four

  Part Five

  Epilogue

  CHAPTER ONE

  Callie

  “Psst,” whispered my friend Christine. “Check out who just walked in the door!”

  I spun around in my seat. Sure, I should have been paying attention, taking notes and listening carefully, but honestly this class bored me. It was something like “Intro to Anatomy” or “Biological Anatomy,” and as far as I could tell all we did was look at diagrams of animals cut in half, scrutinizing their insides. Gross.

  But a tall drink of water had just sauntered into the classroom. Or more accurately, two tall drinks of water.

  The men who strolled in couldn’t legitimately be called boys, they were at least six three and two hundred pounds each. With blue-black hair and deep green eyes, they were swoon-worthy of the latest Playgirl magazine … if only they’d been nude.

  “Oh my god!” squealed Christine. “Science class just got so much better! Who are they? The board of visitors? Oh please please please, say they’re here to stay.”

  I had to laugh. Christine was so silly but fun in a million ways. We’d had a lot of wild rides together and I could trust her to be my wingwoman, my partner in crime. But right now both of us were one hundred percent focused on the two men who’d just walked in, backpacks casually slung over their shoulders.

  Mr. Grimes paused in his lecture, frowning as he took a slip of paper from the first man.

  “Blake Hanson? Bryan Hanson?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that’s us,” drawled the first one. “We just moved here from New York, mid-semester transfers.”

  I could hear Christine gasp beside me, along with most of the other girls in the room. School had just improved a great deal and life was going to be a lot more interesting from here on out.

  “Take a seat, gentlemen,” directed Mr. Grimes. “Right there, next to the window. We’ll get textbooks and all that sorted after break.”

  And wouldn’t you know it, but the two-person table next to Christine and I was empty. When Mr. Grimes turned back to the blackboard, I could feel Christine furiously scribbling something in her notebook, only to tear it out and pass it my way.

  I looked down, figuring it’d be something like a sappy picture of hearts and arrows or something, but she’d gone further this time. Already, there was a folded note with the name Blake written on top.

  “Chrissy!” I whispered aghast. “We don’t even know which one Blake is! How am I supposed to get this note to them?”

  “Who cares?” she whispered back. “They’re twins, it doesn’t matter, they’ll figure it out.”

  “But what does it say?” I asked again. “I mean, these guys just got here, what could you possibly have to say to two new transfers who just showed up at Canterdale High?”

  Christine rolled her eyes. “I swear Callie, you’re so unimaginative sometimes. Who cares what the note says? We just want to strike first before any of the other girls here get to them,” she said, jerking her head backwards to indicate the rest of the class.

  I almost started laughing out loud. Sure, there were a lot of pretty girls at Canterdale but Chrissy had to take the cake for most aggressive. Just last week, she’d concocted some scheme to hold a wet Speedo contest in the gym – to the horror of the PTSA.

  So with a sigh, I did as she asked. With a slip of my hand, I tossed the note onto the twins’ desk, to be met by a smooth look from the one closest to me. God, he was handsome. Up close, his eyes were a deep blue and unexpectedly a dimple flashed as he smiled at me, his hand swooping out to cover the note in a swift flash.

  Slowly, the man opened it, glancing at the contents, only to casually tuck it into his back pocket before turning to grin at us.

  “Oh god Chrissy,” I whispered. “What did you put in that note?”

  “You’ll see,” she said airily. “Nothing bad, don’t worry … just something to kick things off, that’s all.”

  Internally, I groaned. I was boy crazy too but I had a feeling my friend had gone overboard this time. What could she have possibly written? Hopefully something not too embarrassing. I groaned internally again. Fortunately at that moment Mr. Grimes spoke up.

  “Alright, everyone to your stations. Blake, Bryan, why don’t you join Chrissy and Callie at station eight. You’ll have to share a cat, I didn’t order enough for another team, but it’s fine. We’ll get you your own animal to dissect by tomorrow.”

  “Eee!” squealed Chrissy. “They’re our lab partners, perfect!”

  But as much as I was looking forward to getting to know these two men, I was already feeling queasy from the task at hand. The smell of formaldehyde was rising in the classroom as people pulled out dead cats from the fridge, the sad, stiff bodies wrapped in plastic tarp. It only became worse when people started unwrapping the saran, the fumes almost overpowering.

  We made our way to the station which was equipped with a sink and a range of sharp-looking tools. Blake and Bryan strode our way as Chrissy got the cat ready, softly stroking its matted fur, the dead googly eyes glazed and lifeless.

  “Thanks for the note,” said one of the men. “I’m Blake, this is my brother Bryan,” he noted with a lopsided grin.

  That smile got to me. From someone who looked like an Adonis, I wasn’t expecting anything but a dazzling flash, the kind that movie stars routinely show with capped, too-white teeth. But his smile was genuine, reaching his eyes, the kind that could make you melt.

  And disappear into a puddle Chrissy did.

  “Oh hi,” she said breathily. “I’m Chrissy, this is my friend Callie. Where are you guys from? We’re so excited to have you join Canterdale. Just ask if you have any questions,” she burbled. “Callie and I have been here forever.”

  “Thanks,” growled the other twin. “Yeah, we have a ton of questions, it was kind of an unexpected move as senior transfers and all that … but is your friend okay? Callie? Callie?” he said urgently, his voice fading in volume.

  Because despite my best efforts, I was losing it.

  “Um, I’m fine,” I said weakly, gripping the lab countertop. “Welcome to Canterdale.” But I wasn’t okay at all. With a loose sigh, I began to topple, the world moving in slow motion as dizziness overcame me, images blurring at the edges.

  I was just lucid enough to feel a pair of strong arms catch me before dropping into a daze, the haven warm and reassuring.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Callie

  I woke in the nurse’s office, my body stiff, my head spinning.

  “There, there,” clucked Nurse Jane. “You’re going to be fine, it was just anatomy class.”

  Just anatomy class? I groaned internally. More like we’d been in a confined space with a bunch of dead animals, their innards pumped full with poisonous antifreeze.

  “I can’t go back,” I said weakly from my prone position, not even trying to get up. “I just … can’t,” I finished weakly.

  “Shhh,” said the nurse. “Nobody’s making you go back, you had a scare. I’ll let Mr. Grimes know that you’re under the weather and won’t be back today. In the meantime, you can thank these two young men for carrying you over,” she said with a beaming smile, nodding to the corner.

  And I turned slightly to look over my shoulder. There, like twin sentries, sat the Blake and Bryan, gazing at me with quizzical frowns.

  “You okay?” drawled one. “You had us worried there for a sec.”

  “Yeah,” added the other. “Your friend started screaming and it was pandemonium in room, everyone scrambling trying to get you help.”

  I shook my head tiredly. Oh god, no. Just what I didn’t want – a ruckus. You see, I’m somewhat allergic to scandal and crises. My family is so messed up that I try to stay under the radar as much as possible, drawing as little attention to myself.

  But I didn’t want to seem like a weakling, some incompetent girl unable to take care of herself. So I struggled to sit, to get up a bit and look alive.

  But it was fruitless. I was ju
st too weak, too dazed from the chemical smells and ghastly presence of dead cats.

  “Try to rest,” clucked Nurse Jane. “Don’t get up, these nice young men will keep you company. In the meantime,” she said. “I’m going to update your records, I need to log this in our system,” she said kindly before stepping out.

  “Um, thanks for your help,” I said shyly, looking at the twins. God, I hope I didn’t look terrible. I patted my hair self-consciously and was relieved to feel the brown curls more or less in place. I flushed when I realized that the boys were observing me closely, the edges of their mouths lifting slightly.

  “No worries,” said Blake … or was it Bryan? “We wanted to make sure you were okay, it was lucky that we were there otherwise you might have fallen and hit your head. Is Canterdale always so accommodating?” he asked casually.

  “What do you mean?” I said confused.

  “Well, where we’re from,” he said slowly. “People take care of themselves.”

  “We’re lucky if there’s even a nurse on campus,” his brother added dryly. “You guys got a lot of bells and whistles around here.”

  I shook my head in confusion again. Having a nurse on campus was an extra amenity? I mean, Canterdale was a private school but I’d never thought of it as anything fancy. Most of us were here because the local public school was atrocious and our parents couldn’t stand to send us to a place where we’d have to go through metal detectors each morning.

  “Um, I guess so?” I said softly. “I mean, I’m a scholarship student so I’m not exactly like everyone else, but I guess the school does okay.”

  And it was true -- I was here through the generosity of some rich donors. My mom had always struggled as a single mom to four girls, and I was the baby, the last one to leave the nest. But our situation was changing because Mom was recently engaged to Harold Sterling of Sterling Pharmaceuticals … hopefully, financially things would be looking up in the near future.

  But I was getting ahead of myself.

  “So what brings you guys to Canterdale?” I asked curiously. “I mean, it’s midway through senior year. Why didn’t you guys finish at your old high school?”

  “It’s a long story,” chuckled one brother. “And more complicated than we’d like it to be. But listen, we gotta get back, Chrissy’s probably chopped that cat into fifty pieces by now without us. Feel better, you hear?”

  “Sure,” I said, intrigued. “But listen, there’s a party tomorrow night at her house. I’m sure Chrissy wouldn’t mind if I invited you,” I said hastily, “Everyone’s invited and we’ve been friends since childhood, she’s almost like family to me. Stop by if you have a chance. Meet some people, have some drinks, no pressure,” I said a little lamely.

  “Sure,” said Blake as he sauntered out. “We’ve got nothing planned for Friday right Bryan?”

  “Nope, not yet,” winked his brother. “But we do now.”

  And with that, the boys were gone … and my Friday night was shaping up indeed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Blake

  The girl had been amazing. She was beautiful, a little shy, and sweet. Sure, she’d fainted at the sight and smell of dead animals, but who wouldn’t? That shit’s disgusting.

  Of course my brother and I hadn’t batted an eye. Dead corpses and spilled blood is part of our job for better or worse. Because, you see, we’re undercover cops at Canterdale High, kind of like Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum in 21 Jump Street. Due to our youthful looks, we’ve been placed at school to ferret out an alleged drug racket.

  It wasn’t altogether unexpected. It’s is a ritzy academy in a nice neighborhood, the kids with plenty of disposable income and little adult supervision. With no one around, a bunch of bored rich kids with money usually turns to crime and drugs are a common sin of choice.

  So Bryan and I have been sited here. The assignment had been sudden, our sergeant calling us into his office just last week.

  “Officers Hanson,” he said nodding to me, then at my brother. We’d graduated from the Academy two years ago but were no longer newbies. Walking the Tenderloin beat in San Francisco is an all-night racket, something that will transform the greenest rookie into a hardened cop overnight, the poverty, disease, domestic abuse and general crime overwhelming. Just last week, a woman had been arrested for tossing her newborn baby girl out the window in a rage. Can you believe that? A baby thrown like garbage from the eighth floor. Needless to say, the little girl didn’t survive.

  So Canterdale wasn’t going to be cakewalk, sure, but there wouldn’t be the atrocities we witnessed in a crime-ridden neighborhood … we hoped.

  “Hanson,” barked my sergeant. “We’re doing a sting in St. Francis Wood, you know that neighborhood just south of Tyleret?”

  My brother and I nodded. St. Francis Wood was a hoity-toity place where Jags and Mercedes were stolen, not exactly a source of violent crime. But our sergeant lowered his voice.

  “There’ve been two overdoses in the last month,” he said. “Two kids at the local high school. It’s been kept hush-hush because people are so protective of their property prices that they don’t want anything to sully their image. But evidently there’s a lot of drug use going on and the kids are getting it somewhere,” he continued. “The parents want us to bust the ring.”

  Okay, well maybe if the parents were around more there would be less drug use. But it wasn’t my place to say. “Sarge,” I drawled gamely, “what do we know so far?”

  “Unfortunately not a lot at this point,” he replied. “Victim one was Brian Adams, on the football team, seventeen, early admission to Harvard. Comes from a so-called nice family except his parents are never around, always raising money for some charity or other,” the Sarge snorted. “Victim two was Tyler Needham, also on the football team, recruited to play football at Cal although he obviously won’t be there this fall.”

  I digested this information. “So do Bryan and I need to try out for the football team to get the down low on these suckers?” I asked. My brother and I were athletic and agile, plus we’d played football before. Street ball for sure, but it was enough for some high school rinky-dink sports program.

  “Nah, the season’s over, but you’ve got to get in with the right crew of kids. This isn’t the stoner crowd, Brian and Tyler were athletes, kids with good grades from nice families. Somehow they got their hands on cocaine and heroin, not just the usual soft stuff. Hey, if they’ve got the money to pay for it, there’s not much stopping them,” said the sergeant dryly.

  And I could see his point. Bryan, the Sarge and I are working class, our parents are schoolteachers, firefighters, people who are comfortable but hardly living the high life. It was only too ironic that kids who’d been given everything on a silver plate were shooting themselves in the foot … or in the arm in this case.

  So my twin and I had packed up our stuff, moving into a trailer on the edges of St. Francis Wood. I guess SFPD could have found a “foster family” for us or other some bullshit, but it was just easier to paint a story as two twin boys who’d moved to town because of a troubled past. Our “uncle” would be the Sergeant, although he didn’t live with us.

  And now our first lead had appeared … and Callie had given it to us inadvertently. The party promised to be fruitful, a bunch of rich kids on a Friday night, loosening up, letting it all hang out. As we prepped, Bryan and I talked it over.

  “I’ll take Callie, you take Chrissy, see where it leads us,” I’d suggested nonchalantly.

  No such luck. “Yeah, whatever,” grinned my twin. “No way I’m passing up the brunette.”

  And it was to be expected -- both of us had liked the curvy girl on sight. Okay, more than liked, more like very, very intrigued. Callie was exactly up our alley with curly brown hair, big brown eyes and a figure shaped like a sensuous S. Big boobs, a tiny waist and luscious, swinging hips. I’d never developed a taste for skinny anorexics, and neither had my brother.

  “Fine,” I said gamely. “We’ll play it by ear, see what develops. No sense in tying ourselves to some rigid plan.”