The Trashy Virgin: A Menage Romance Page 13
Our young gun had wised up this time.
“Baby,” he growled feverishly. “There’s no one for us but you, there never will be,” he rumbled, claiming her lips again.
Katy twisted against us then, her insides making us both moan with ecstasy, the sweet friction unbearable. Because it was true. There was only one woman for us, and she was right here, in our arms. I’m not saying that things were perfect, that we’d worked everything out, but what I am saying is that we were going to give it the old college try. Sure, a threesome wasn’t going to go over well in our little town, if people thought we were trailer trash before, then we were definitely cementing that image now. But what the fuck? We’d been apart and it had been fucking awful, an exercise in agony.
So yeah, Katy, Jason and I live in the present because life is too short. There’s no point going around in circles, chasing your tail when you’ve got everything you want right in front of you. And for us, that’s Katy Parks, curvy brunette, sensuous lover, our sweetheart with the generous body and even more generous smile. What’s going to happen, I don’t know because no one can predict the future, but for now, the trashy virgin was ours to keep … and to love.
EPILOGUE
Katy
So do you think I’m trashy?
Do you think I’m trash because I live in a trailer park?
Do you think I’m trash for adoring two men, two men who practically started out as my stepdad and stepbrother?
I don’t blame you if you do. Maybe I would too, if I were in someone else’s shoes.
But life teaches you lessons, and I’ve learned mine, word for word, cover to cover.
Because my particular lesson is that love can triumph … if you let it. I adore Jason and Brent, I appreciate everything they do for me, with me, to me. And it goes beyond just the physical. We’re bonded in a way that transcends words, each of us with our own lives but also completely intertwined, our bodies worshipping one another, our words caressing where hands can’t touch, our souls meeting with a bright, burning flame.
And I realize it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. Because we’ve established a system that works for now, one that keeps us together, yet keeps us decently shielded from prying eyes. First, Jason couldn’t keep living with Brent in that small space. They were two alpha males, two dominants who would continuously clash if they shared living quarters. So Jason moved into a house in the woods, one that he’d been building for the last year, one with plenty of room and chock full of his gorgeous woodwork, everything crafted by hand.
And that’s where we meet for our loving, to savor one another, spend time in each other’s company. No one knows that we’re together because I moved back in with my mom while Brent lives in his trailer, just like before. So we could be three old friends, gathering at Jason’s place, celebrating together, bonded because of our tumultuous past, Brent rescuing us from troubled childhoods.
But behind closed doors with the curtains drawn, deep in the woods, it’s so much more than that. We’re a triad, the three of us sharing, loving, fucking, and it’s a mature relationship, one where we ride the ups and downs together, reveling in our triumphs, consoling each other’s failures, absolutely everything out on the table, our hearts bare, our bodies naked.
And maybe one day we’ll go public, who knows? Because as every day passes, I’m less and less afraid of being called “trashy.” Everything is relative, and the way I feel about myself, the way I conduct myself, isn’t trashy at all. I’m just in a non-traditional relationship, one with two men, two lovers, and that’s not trashy in and of itself.
So yeah, we’ll see. I love Jason and Brent, and the feeling is mutual, returned a hundred-fold even. For now, it’s more enough, and as for stepping into the spotlight in the future? Well … you never know.
THE END
BONUS CHAPTER
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LIKED THIS BOOK? THEN READ THE VIRGIN SERIES
The Naughty Virgin: A Teacher Student Romance
The Wicked Virgin: An Office Romance
The Dirty Virgin: A Stepdad Romance
Delivering the Virgin
Beg Me: Sold To My Dad’s Boss **bestseller**
COMPLIMENTS OF THE AUTHOR
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DOUBLE HUGE
A Twin Stepbrother Romance
(Erotic Romance, PI, Ménage, Double Vaginal)
© 2016
By Cassandra Dee
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A SNEAK PEEK
I felt like I owed them, these generous, giving men.
“Saxon, Stryke,” I whispered. “I want to do something for you.”
“Hmm?” asked Stryke, distracted. He was stroking my breast, watching with fascination as my nips hardened under my t-shirt, listening with only one ear.
“I want to do a double vaginal penetration,” I whispered shyly. “Both of you in my pussy at once.”
That got their attention, blue eyes snapping towards me.
“Melanie, are you sure?”
CHAPTER ONE
Melanie
I looked at the tuition bill in shock. Forty-six thousand dollars for one measly year of school? I couldn’t believe it … and I couldn’t afford it.
I know I’m lucky in a way. I attend Trinity University, an elite private school in Virginia that has strong academics, an amazing athletic program, and a storied past combining the best of Southern tradition with Northern innovation and learning. It’s not that we’re Confederate flag-toting rednecks or anything, but a lot of kids here have famous last names, and in Virginia, a last name still means something.
Unfortunately I don’t have a prominent last name and forty-six thousand in tuition was pretty much impossible. My mom divorced my dad when I was just a baby and we never saw that loser again. She scrimped and saved to raise me and did a good job, truth be told. Mom’s a pediatric nurse at the local hospital and she always made sure I had an excellent education and lots of extracurriculars. As a child, I never felt like we needed money.
A couple months ago, Mom married Sam Jones, a doctor at the hospital she works at. I guess they’d been co-workers for years, and had finally decided to come clean with the romance.
“Melly, aren’t you happy for me?” she asked.
“I am, Mom, I am,” I reassured her, my smile genuine and unforced. And I was happy for her. Years of working night shifts had prematurely aged my mom, and there were creases and lines around her eyes and mouth that deepened every year. Plus, she labored so hard that I hoped that the marriage would give her a sense of security and happiness, lifting her spirits and letting her enjoy life a little more.
And Dr. Jones (I mean Sam) was nice. He was an older guy, divorced with two kids of his own around my age. I’d only met Saxon and Stryke once before, when they were in town visiting. Usually, they lived in California with their mom so our parents had organized a special dinner for us to get acquainted before the wedding.
I still remembered it … unfortunately. My mom had forced me to wear a skirt she bought which was way too short. Most moms are trying to make sure their daughters aren’t dressing like whores, but mine’s the opposite. Noreen thinks I need to be more lively, maybe get out more, so she’d bought this little pink number which would have been cute had it not ended right below my butt cheeks.
We’d shown up at the restaurant, and I was already self-conscious, trying to pull my skirt down, the wind drafty and cool between my inner thighs. God, this was awkward. But my feeling of impending disaster deepened when I actually met Saxon and Stryke.
They’d stood up with their dad when we arrived, and looked nothing like their father. Whereas Dr. Jones was av
erage, a nerdy-looking guy, Saxon and Stryke were twin gods. Charcoal black hair, so dark that it absorbed light, plus penetrating blue eyes set in masculine faces, their features rugged and handsome. We’d shaken hands awkwardly, their eyes deceptively neutral although I’d felt the boys skim my body the moment we approached the table.
“So Saxon, Stryke,” said my mom at lunch. “Where are you guys headed after graduation?” Evidently, they were seniors as well, at some prep school in LA.
“We’ll probably go to USC or UCLA,” rumbled Stryke, his blue eyes clear and sharp. “We’re really into movie-making and both schools have great film programs.”
“Oh right,” said my mom, “Didn’t George Lucas go to USC?”
“Yep,” rumbled Saxon, “as did Ron Howard, Judd Apatow, and a slew of famous directors and producers,” he said.
I’d been too shy to add much to the conversation, but in a small voice, I said, “Peter Rainier went to USC.”
Both of my soon-to-be brothers turned to look at me.
“I’m sorry, who?” said Saxon smoothly.
It was hard to concentrate, having two pairs of intense blue beams focused on me, the twins so handsome, large and imposing in their suits. But I continued.
“Peter Rainier’s a movie critic,” I said. “I read his reviews in Rolling Stone all the time, and I think cultural critics really add a lot to film,” I added hesitantly. “I mean, who doesn’t check IMDb or Rotten Tomatoes before buying a movie ticket now?”
I smiled at my brothers as they nodded thoughtfully.
“Yeah, that’s true,” said Saxon. “Why, are you thinking about being a movie critic?”
“Oh no,” I blushed furiously. “I’d love to do something related to writing, maybe editing or fact-checking, but I’m too low-key to be the actual star of the show.”
Both my brothers nodded slowly, eyeing me with renewed respect.
“Well if you’re into editing, you might want to check out Cinaeaste or Modern Review,” suggested Stryke. “Both are trade pubs and have a lot of helpful articles about breaking in as an editorial assistant.”
Hmmm, so my brothers weren’t just gorgeous, they had brains too. They were headed off into Hollywood, a notoriously competitive arena, but weren’t going to try and cash in on their good looks. Instead, it seemed they more interested in writing / producing / directing, and had already begun to research the industry. Very interesting.
And the rest of the lunch went really well, typical boring chit chat getting-to-know-you type stuff, until the very end. We got up to go, my mom leaning over to give Dr. Jones a kiss goodbye, when Saxon turned to me.
“By the way Melanie,” he murmured. “Your skirt’s tucked into your panties.”
I looked down. Oh my god! When I’d come back from the bathroom, I must not have pulled my skirt down all the way, and now the flimsy pink material was tucked into my little g-string, revealing my bare ass cheeks, the strip of lace covering absolutely zero. Even more embarrassing, that lace was darkened with moisture, testament to my heightened arousal around these gorgeous men. Flushed, I hurriedly pulled the material down, trying to cover as much skin as possible.
“Try to wear a longer skirt next time, hmm?” mused Saxon, eyeing me suggestively.
And before I’d even realized what had happened, Stryke swiped a big palm across my ass, my skin burning as he touched me, that large hand warm and hard. Oh my god, wtf? Had my new brother just copped a feel in the middle of a restaurant? Stryke’s face was expressionless, calmly neutral, although there was a gleam in his eye.
And just when I was about to believe it was my imagination, Saxon reached between my legs, and lightly tapped the moistness at the crotch of my panties.
“Oh!” I gasped. I wanted to be outraged, scandalized at their bold moves. But it had felt so good, those warm fingers brushing against my secret space, niggling my clit for just a minute before touching my wetness.
And Saxon brought his hand to his lips for a second, tasting a bit, sniffing, before smiling at me.
“Aromatic and sweet, just the way we like it,” he murmured appreciatively.
I was now absolutely floored, but fortunately saved by my mom’s clucking.
“Boys, it was so nice meeting you, and we’ll see you at the wedding okay?” chirped Noreen. “I’m glad we finally got to get together,” she smiled. Oh my god, what would my mom do if she knew that my stepbrothers had just fondled me intimately, testing my pussy and behind? Would the wedding still be on?
But I decided not to find out. I was headed to college on the East Coast and my brothers would be on the West. So I smiled politely, my eyes large and my cunny wet, murmuring goodbye to my new steps, relieved yet tantalized at the scandalous meeting.
CHAPTER TWO
Melanie
Mom and Sam got married in a small ceremony at the hospital chapel. It was really sweet, just the four of us, my mom, my new dad, the pastor, and me as the witness. I have to admit – I was kind of relieved that Saxon and Stryke hadn’t been able to make it. It was finals week at their high school, and their mom wouldn’t let them take any time off from studying. Guess there was no love lost between Sam and his ex-wife.
The wedding was sweet, simple and straightforward. My mom and stepdad hadn’t wanted a huge shindig because it was the second marriage for both, so low key and low profile were the way to go. And my mom’s quality of life was about to improve – I was finally off to college and Noreen was free to enjoy her golden years with her new husband.
But unexpectedly, I got a call from Mom in the middle of the day, when she normally would have been at work.
“Melly, Sam’s been called to Afghanistan,” Noreen sobbed.
“What?” I gasped. How was this possible? Sam was a doctor, and sure, they needed doctors in Afghanistan, but he was at least fifty. Did they ship men in their later years off to war zones? How had they gotten his name and number anyways?
My mom sighed.
“Sam’s been in the Army reserves ever since he finished active duty,” she said. “Active duty was thirty years ago, but you know how he’s so patriotic, always diligently showing up for those weekend drills. Well, I guess the government paid attention and now he’s been called up,” she said sadly.
“Don’t worry Mom, I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” I reassured her. “Sam will be behind the lines, probably restricted to the green zone.”
“I’m not sure,” replied my mom tearfully. “I hear medics go out into Kabul with the troops, and you know how Sam is. He’d volunteer for the front line just to make sure his brothers are safe.”
It was probably true and there was nothing good that could come of this, so I just made soothing noises.
“Don’t worry Ma, everything’s going to be alright, just hold tight. How long is his deployment?” I asked.
“A year,” she cried. “And we just got married!”
“That’s no time at all,” I soothed again. “The United States isn’t going to make you into a widow so fast,” I said. Oops, major boo-boo because my mom wailed even louder.
But I hastened to correct my mistake, smoothing things over.
“You’re going to be alright, okay Ma? Just go to the hospital as usual, and everything’s gonna be fine. The kids at work love you, don’t let them down just because of this.”
She sobbed a bit more and sniffled, but calmed a bit.
“Thanks Melly. You take care too, okay? How is school? Are the people at Trinity nice? How are they treating you?” she asked.
“It’s great, the people are great,” I reassured her. And the truth was Trinity was pretty awesome … except for the tuition bill sitting on top of my dresser. I wanted to talk to her about next year’s fees but now didn’t seem like the time.
“Well honey, we love you but try to save a little during the coming year okay? Sam’s going to be paid an Army wage, which is almost nothing, and you know how little I make as a nurse. So be frugal okay, baby? Is there any wa
y you could get a part-time job?”
I could almost hear a big steel door clanging shut on my dreams but I kept my voice steady for the sake of my mom.
“Sure, I can find a job, Ma,” I said. “Let me just go to the Student Learning Center and take a peek, they have a job board over there. Don’t worry about a thing,” I promised.
“Thanks baby,” she sniffled. “Hang in there, okay? And you’re coming home in two weeks, right?”
Oh shit. That’s right, I’d promised to come home to spend some quality time with her, my first visit home since starting freshman year.
“Yep, that’s right Ma, I’m going to drive up, so see you then!” I said with fake cheeriness. I hung up on a high note, but my chest felt tight, and a cloud of panic was descending on my brain. Not only was my stepdad going to war, but I had no way of paying next semester’s tuition. What was I going to do?
CHAPTER THREE
Melanie
The crowds were raucous and noisy from behind the velvet curtain. I twisted the tie on my g-string and fidgeted uncertainly. This idea didn’t seem so good anymore.
I’d been sitting dumbly in my dorm room, staring at the tuition bill again when my roommate Lauren came back from class, dumping her backpack onto the bed.
“Hey Melly, what’s up?” she’d asked carelessly, tossing her jacket onto the bed. It was one of the distressed denim ones, the kind that looks beat-up but was actually really expensive.
We’d gotten to be friends over the couple weeks we’d been living together, and I felt comfortable enough to confide.
“Did you get your tuition bill yet?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, that thing,” said Lauren, squinching up her nose. “It was fucking unbelievable right? Forty-six thousand? It’s fucking grand larceny, and that didn’t even include extra fees and housing,” she said.