Beast Brothers

I frame Cody’s face with trembling hands. “Both of you,” I tell him, and it’s all I need to say.

He buries his face in my neck. “Megan,” he groans, and he lets go, filling me up.

When he’s spent himself, he rolls us on our sides, still inside me, and Brock tucks in behind me. We stay that way for a few minutes, and then Brock moves my hair aside and kisses me behind my ear.

“I’m scared,” I tell them as the afterglow fades.

Brock squeezes my hip gently. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Megalicious.”

“We’ll never hurt you,” Cody says as he brushes the back of his finger softly along my cheek.

“You’re special to us.” Brock tilts my face up and kisses me, and it’s hot and sweet and full of promise. “We’re going to show you just how much. Now let’s go home.”

Epilogue

Megan

I’m on my side, Cody filling me from behind, Brock from the front. The twins have already given me a gazillion orgasms, as usual, and now they’re heading for the finish line, pumping in and out of me hard and fast. Brock’s kissing me, his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my breast, while Cody’s fingers work my clit. I moan into Brock’s mouth, the boys slam home inside me, and we all come together, sparks shooting through us like the 4th of July.

“Love you, babe,” Cody says when we can breathe again.

“I know you do,” I say with a tender smile. “I love you too.” Brock kisses me, and we all cuddle together in our favorite position. I have my special times with just one or the other of them, but it always feels the best, the most right, when it’s the three of us.

In the months since they brought me back from the cabin, things have only gotten better. As soon as we could get cleaned up and dressed that night, we left so the brothers could be at practice the next day. They took turns driving, while the brother who wasn’t at the wheel played with me in the back seat. They wanted me with them, so we left Tara’s car to pick up later.

They assured me that they were tested regularly, and hadn’t been with anyone else since I came home, so they were safe going without protection. They also told me they were putting me up in my own apartment, so I wouldn’t have to deal with my dad and wouldn’t feel too pressured to move in with them right away.

The solo apartment didn’t last long — just long enough for them to show they were serious about me. Then they bought a 50-acre spread outside of town, and we all moved there. For public purposes, Brock and I are a couple and Cody lives in the guesthouse on the property. In reality, the three of us live in the big house together.

Tara and Zoe love going on joyrides with me in the Mustang, and they take turns being Cody’s fake girlfriend when I go on public dates with the twins, but often all five of us hang out together.

It’s early, the mornin

g sun slanting through our bedroom. Cody’s hand strokes over my hip. “Better start getting ready,” he says.

We’re meeting my dad and Vivian for lunch. They got married on Valentine’s Day, in the relative peace and quiet after the Super Bowl. I’m so proud of my guys — they both made the All-Star Team, and now they have Super Bowl rings too.

My dad is slowly coming around about us being together. He’s not exactly thrilled with our relationship, and it took a while for me — and especially the twins — to forgive him for how he treated me that day. But he loves me, and the more time he spends around us, the more he can see that my men adore me and are making me happy.

As for Vivian, her sons didn’t lie — she really did go to bat for me with my dad. Let’s just say I’ve discovered a whole new appreciation for orange sherbet. We even have girl time together, with Tara and Zoe too. She treats us all like the daughters she never had, and it’s pretty cool.

Cody gives me a soft, sweet kiss, and we all slowly disengage. He rolls off the bed to head for the bathroom, and when he comes back I say, “I have something to give you two.”

“A present?” Brock says. They perk up like five-year-olds at Christmas, and I have to laugh as I retrieve the small gift bag from where I’d hidden it in our walk-in closet.

“Here you go,” I say, pulling out two miniature football helmets. One says “Daddy Brock,” and the other “Daddy Cody.” The brothers love those nicknames, and they love playing the games that go with them. I’ll just say that I’ve learned to love being naughty sometimes so they have to punish me.

I hand the helmets over and the twins look at them, bemused. “Thanks, babe,” Cody says, clearly trying to be appreciative but not quite getting it.

That’s what I expected; today isn’t really on their radar, growing up with a single mom like they did. So I help them out. “Happy Father’s Day,” I say softly.

Then it hits them. They look from the helmets to me, and their eyes get bright. “Are you saying …” Brock starts.

“You’re going to be daddies for real,” I confirm. “Right around Super Bowl Sunday next year.”

Their grins split their faces, and then Cody picks me up and swings me around, whooping so loud I’m sure they hear him all the way in town. “Careful,” Brock cuts in, and Cody abruptly puts me down, very gently.

I laugh. “Guys, it’s all right. I’m not fragile.”

“You have to start taking a multivitamin,” Cody says, launching straight into Beast Daddy mode. “And you need to get plenty of rest. And eat healthy foods.”

It’s awfully cute. I’ve had a little time to get used to the idea — I didn’t want to tell them until I was sure. But their excitement makes me misty-eyed. They’ll be such good dads.

Brock is watching me closely. “You’re feeling all right?” he says. “What about morning sickness?”

“So far, so good,” I assure him. “My only concern is that any child of you two is going to be enormous.”

The brothers shoot me their cocky grins, and I roll my eyes. Cody’s gaze goes to the bed and back to me. “So,” he says. “Everything’s, uh, business as usual?”

Even after all this time with them, I blush a little. “Yes, it’s fine. We won’t have to be, you know, careful until closer to my due date.”

“In that case,” Brock says, “we should celebrate.” Two sets of eyes get hot, and the brothers start toward me.

“Guys,” I say, backing away, hands up. “We’re meeting Dad and Vivian, remember? They have a reservation.”

“We’ll just have to hurry, then,” Brock says. “A three-way quickie in the shower.” He pulls me in with an arm around my waist and kisses me. “I love you, babe. Thank you. We’re the luckiest men alive.”