Beast Brothers

“Megan?” Brock says softly.

I shake my head. “I can’t,” I say. “But … thanks for the offer.”

I feel more than see the guys look at each other again, and then Brock rotates his hips, grinding his erection against my sensitized flesh. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud. “Anytime,” he says. “Consider it a standing offer.”

A vision of his cock, standing proud and tall against his abdomen, instantly fills my mind. Which no doubt is what he intended. “Oh god,” I whisper.

He Got His and Now I’m Getting Mine

Megan

Brock’s mouth brushes the bare skin on the side of my neck, making me jolt. Since I can’t take them up on their offer, I don’t need any more torment. I try to pull away again, but he just tucks me back against his side.

“Easy, Megalicious,” he says in that sexy rumble of his. “You’re too tense. We need to help you relax.”

“You did not just call me — that.” I can’t even make myself repeat his ridiculous nickname. Who the hell does he think he is? Besides the guy who’s making my brain melt, I mean, along with the rest of my body.

Cody chuckles. “How about megagorgeous?” He shifts closer, running a finger up and down my arm. “Or megasexy.”

My system is overloading again, and I can’t help squirming some more on Brock’s lap. “Yeah, babe,” he says. “Let Daddy Brock make you feel better.”

“Daddy Brock?” I sputter and then snort with laughter. “You guys are no older than I am. I might even be older than you.”

“It’s not the years, baby,” he says, his lips grazing the sensitive shell of my outer ear. “It’s the mileage.”

Even as I roll my eyes at him quoting movie lines at me, he turns me so I’m facing forward in the taxi. One arm wraps around my midriff, and his free hand teases the skin just above the waistband of my shorts.

His touch sends sparks shooting right down to my pussy. I must have hit my head during the collision harder than I thought. Anger, grief, stress, hormones — can’t forget the raging hormones — have apparently shredded every bit of common sense I possess. Because I don’t say anything.

All I have to do is open my mouth and tell them, “No.” Or “Stop that.” And they’d back off, both of them. I know it in my bones. Impossible as it sounds, I feel safe with these two men who are taking such liberties with my body.

I’m letting it happen because I want it to. Because I want them. Because right now, with the rain wrapping the taxi in sheets of water, hiding us in our own little world, all I care about is how they’re making me feel.

And how they’re making me feel is like a beautiful, sexy, desirable woman. Someone worth wanting. Someone Jason was a fool to let go.

Who are you kidding? whispers the self-doubt that’s been tormenting me all day, ever since I walked in on Jason and his mistress. They just want an easy fuck. You’re nothing to them.

I almost listen, almost give in to the crushing weight of my insecurity. But then my phone rings. Cody pulls it out of my purse. “Jason,” he says, reading the screen. “Who’s that?”

My anger blazes again. “No one,” I snap. I grab the phone, hit the Reject Call button, and toss it back in my purse. Fuck Jason, and not in a good way. He got his and now I’m getting mine.

I relax against Brock, consciously letting go of my resistance. “That’s my girl,” he whispers. His hand slips inside my shorts, then under the elastic of my panties, his fingertips teasing the curls above my clit.

Now that I’ve decided not to fight it, I’m impatient for more. “Touch me,” I whisper back. “Do it.”

Brock’s hand dips lower, while Cody’s slides inside my top and down to my breasts. He hefts one in his palm at the same moment that his brother cups me, the heel of his hand just above my clit, his fingers against my soft flesh. “Fuck,” I hiss, as needlepoints of pleasure erupt under my skin.

Cody flicks his thumb over my nipple, then pushes the cup of my bra down and takes my swollen peak between his thumb and forefinger, twisting lightly. I gasp, a distant corner of my brain hoping like hell that the driver is too distracted by the weather and the traffic to notice what his passengers are up to.

Brock pushes a finger inside me and presses his hand against my clit, and if not for his arm around me I’d shoot straight through the roof of the cab. I bite my lip hard as his finger pumps slowly in and out of me, driving me insane. Oh god, is this really happening?

And then my phone rings again.

Cody fishes it out of my purse with his free hand, glances at it, and passes it to me. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are mischievous and he doesn’t release my breast. Brock doesn’t stop either, his finger doing a torturous slide in and out of me.

I check the readout, expecting it to be Jason again, and a cruel streak I didn’t know I had is tempted to take the call and tell him exactly what I’m doing right now. But it’s not him. “It’s my dad!” I whisper frantically. “You have to stop!”

“Why?” Brock whispers back. “I know Coach is awesome, but he doesn’t have x-ray vision.”

“I can’t concentrate while you’re doing that!” I hiss. And I absolutely cannot talk to my dad while two of his players are feeling me up.

But Brock is unrepentant and unrelenting. “You can handle it,” he says calmly, his finger keeping up its steady seduction.

Infuriating, stubborn, impossibly sexy man! The call’s about to go to voicemail, so there’s no more time to argue. I clear my throat before I swipe the screen to answer. “Hi, Dad,” I say, hoping I sound normal.

“Meggie.” He hasn’t called me that in years. When I was a teenager, I complained that it made me sound like a little girl, and he stopped. I didn’t realize until this very moment that I’ve missed it.

“Where are you?” he says. My heart constricts at the love and worry in his voice. He has always been there for me, and here I am repaying him by making out in a taxi with the Beast Brothers.

I close my free hand over Brock’s wrist, tugging. He not only ignores me, he presses another finger inside me. “I’m almost there,” I say, and then realize that’s true in more ways than one. My voice is husky and I hope Dad doesn’t notice. “The traffic is horrendous, and the rain —” I add hastily.

Brock speeds up a little, and it takes all my willpower not to moan right into my dad’s ear. Cody gives my breast a squeeze, then rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger again. I wriggle on Brock’s lap, ready to burst.

“All right,” Dad says. “I won’t keep you while you’re driving. Be safe and see you soon.” He hangs up before I can say anything else, saving me from explanations — and embarrassing sounds.

Before his brother even takes the phone from my hand, Brock speeds up again, the friction of his thick fingers in my pussy driving me right to the verge. Cody goes back to teasing my nipple, pinching, then twisting it, sending hot jolts of pleasure shooting down to my clit. “Oh god,” I groan, trembling on the brink of release. “That feels so good!”

Brock presses hard on my clit, fingers still plunging inside me. Cody tugs at my nipple, pulling it out, holding on instead of releasing it. “Come for us,” Brock growls in my ear.

And I do — so hard I see stars. I always thought that was a myth, but no. My pussy clamps around Brock’s fingers; my ass lifts from his lap as I arch into the climax, and fireworks explode behind my closed eyelids. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“Don’t stop, babe,” Brock says. “Give us all of it.” And the brothers keep working me, their fingers playing my body expertly, sending me over the edge two more glorious times until I eventually go limp.

Cody’s eyes smile into mine as he tucks my breast back into my bra. “Feel better?” he says softly.

I feel amazing — so good, in fact, that words are beyond me — but the sane part of my brain is slowly coming back online. I can’t believe what I just did, where I did it, and who I di

d it with!

“You’re amazing,” Brock tells me, his voice a warm vibration against my skin. He sounds like he means it, and for some reason his words fill me with a different kind of warmth. His fingers are still inside me, and my inner walls keep clenching around him.

“Give me her phone,” he says to his brother, and with his free hand he expertly thumbs his way to my contact list and adds a number. The cab driver makes a turn. With mingled relief and panic I see that it’s the street to my dad’s house. I tug at Brock’s wrist again, and this time he slowly, reluctantly withdraws his hand, enabling me to slide off his lap and back onto the seat.

Cody moves over to give me room. My phone rings — Jason again. I am so done with him. I turn the phone off entirely and drop it back in my purse.

While I tidy up my clothing, the cab pulls to the curb in front of my dad’s house. Digging in my purse, I pull out the ball cap I wore earlier today. I put it on as if I want to protect my hair from the rain, but really, I’m hiding my face from the taxi driver.

I’m not the type of girl who has sexual encounters in taxis. Not usually, that is. But nothing about today has been normal.

She Looks Nothing Like My Mother

Megan

There’s a car I don’t recognize parked in my dad’s driveway, a white SUV next to his black one. The guys exchange a glance, but don’t say anything. We all get out, and Cody retrieves my suitcase while Brock says to the driver, “Wait here — we’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“That’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to come in with me.” My dad may not have x-ray vision, but I can’t shake the feeling that as soon as he sees us together, he’ll somehow know what just happened.