Three days pass in much the same way with classes and assignments and visits to Jameson. Then our parents’ leave for vacation.

It’s a Sunday and we make a big show of waving them off at the front entrance. Janice seems torn about whether she’s doing the right thing. Her beloved sons are being left in the care of me and each other. How will they ever survive without her?

Truth is I can feel the excitement bubbling in them all. Kyle especially. I catch Kameron glancing at his twin as though he’s worried about what will happen next.

I’m worried about what will happen next.

When our parents’ car has disappeared up the road, we turn and make our way back inside and I know that I’m not imagining the change in the atmosphere once the front door is closed.

“Party time,” Jessie says, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“Errr, did you not just hear us all promise that we wouldn’t trash the house? Seriously dude. If we fuck this up, they’re never going to leave us alone here again.”

Jessie grumbles under his breath. “Seriously…what are you suggesting we do? Live like monks for the next seven days of our freedom.”

“Fuck that,” Joshua says. “I nearly messed up my back the last time I tried to have sex in the truck. I’m making the most of a free house, whether you agree or not.”

“Gross,” I mumble and Kyle glances over at me, a pained look etched on his face. He’s worried about what I’m thinking about his brothers. If his idea is going to have any chance of working, he really needs to make sure they don’t alienate me with their philandering ways.

“I wasn’t suggesting that at all,” Kyle says. “I’m just saying that there is no way we’re inviting two hundred people for a keg-fest. There’s nothing wrong with having a few friends over.”

“I’m going to call Sara,” I say.

“Well, that means Red is coming over,” Kameron says.

“Yeah, those two are practically joined at the groin.”

“Gross.” I shake my head. These boys really do live with their mouths in the gutter.

“Well, we better invite the rest of the team then,” Jessie says. “We should order pizzas.”

“Dad left us some money on the kitchen counter.”

“Perfect,” Kyle smiles. “I’m sure we can rustle up some dips and chips, and there are enough beers too.”

“Those fuckers can bring their own,” Joshua says. “This isn’t a fucking free-for-all…and we need to keep some of that money for lunches next week.”

“Wow. That’s very mature of you,” I say. “I never thought that Joshua would be the one encouraging us to budget sensibly. Next thing you know he’ll be suggesting we cut coupons and head to Walmart.”

Joshua turns his narrow eyes on me again as his brothers splutter with laugher. “You’ve got a sass mouth that someone needs to dick-fuck off your face.”

My jaw falls open and Kyle, Kameron and Jessie share the same expression. “What the fuck, bro?” Kameron says, stepping between me and Joshua. “You can’t talk to Maisie like that. She’s our…” I hear the pause in his voice as he stutters over the word sister. Days ago he was balls deep inside me. Any kind of suggestion of a sibling relationship doesn’t sit well with that fact at all. “She’s not some fucking baller-chasing slut, okay?”

Joshua doesn’t apologize, though, and Kyle moves forward too. “J, you need to apologies. What do you think her dad would say if he heard how you talked to her?”

Joshua smirks but I can see the words settling in his head. Cocky asshole didn’t think about that. “Sorry, Maisie.” It’s the worst apology I’ve ever heard.

“Let’s get on with this,” Jessie says in an attempt to defuse the weird atmosphere that’s formed between us all.

I never thought I’d see the day when these brothers weren’t united in their asshole attitude toward me. This fracture is new, and Joshua and Jessie aren’t sure what to make of it.

I head to the kitchen with Kyle and Kameron, and Jessie and Joshua disappear upstairs.

“Sorry about Joshua.” Kyle throws an arm around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze.

“Don’t apologize for him. He’s…well, he’s just behaving like I’m used to you all behaving.”

Kyle and Kameron glance at each other. “We’ve never said anything like that,” Kameron says.

“No, but you’ve all been pretty mean to me.”

Kyle slumps onto a stool at the kitchen island. “We were just playing, Mais. It was just for fun, you know.”

I raise my eyebrows and shake my head. He seriously thought that all their pranks, nasty comments and snubs were a game. “Yeah, it wasn’t that fun for me. In fact, I was dreading coming to stay here, and when I arrived, you were all just the same as you were when we were kids.”

Kameron throws his arm around my shoulder, his palm resting over the side of my head as he tugs it toward him and plants a kiss on my temple. “We were just playing. Just messing around, like we do with each other.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t feel like that. It felt like five against one. It felt like you hated me and wanted me to be anywhere else than here.”

“I guess we did at the beginning,” Kyle says. “Mom was always going on about how we had to behave really well so we didn’t make your dad angry. She said he already had a kid who he thought was perfect and that meant that it was even more likely that we’d end up getting kicked out. I guess with hindsight she was just trying to get us to stop acting like typical naughty boys. You were always so quiet and well mannered. The more you were like that, the worse we seemed to compare. It just became a way of us letting off steam.”

“Yeah, well it burned.”

Kyle grabs me round the waist and pulls me between his legs. He takes my face in his hands and makes me look into his sky-blue pretty eyes. “I’m sorry, he says. “I’m really truly sorry for anything I did to make you feel bad. Especially since you came back. When we were kids…well, we just didn’t really know any better. But we should now. We should all know better.”

“It’s okay,” I say, the familiar burn back in my throat.

“Sorry,” Kameron says, pressing his body against my back and wrapping his arms around me, directly above his brother’s. I’m in a twin sandwich and it feels pretty damn good.

Kameron plants another kiss on my temple, and my eyes drift closed. Kyle’s lips graze my jawline, the heat of his breath sending a rush of shivery sensation over my scalp. Wow. Our parents have only been gone for thirty minutes and the twins are already taking advantage of it.

“What are you doing?” Kameron says to his brother, pulling back.

I turn, triggered by his abrupt tone.

“Fuck,” Kyle mutters. “Are you seriously still on this negative attitude?”

“She’s our sister…” Kameron says, sounding strangled.

“Will you just stop tossing the word sister around? It’s bullshit and you know it. You’re just trying to set a wall between us where there isn’t one.”

“I’m trying to stop you from making a fool of yourself and breaking Maisie’s heart in the process. As we said back there, Maisie deserves better than this.”

Kyle scowls at his twin. “You know how I feel about her. This isn’t some bullshit hook-up.”

I hear the thudding of footsteps on the stairs and pull back from Kyle and Kameron.

When Joshua and Jessie appear in the doorway, the atmosphere in the kitchen is strained and they look between us with interest.

“We invited the team,” Jessie says.

“That’s good. Let’s see what we need to do about food.”

“I’m going to message Sara,” I say, deciding to duck out and go back to the pool house for some alone time.

It’s the afternoon by the time people start showing up. Red and Sara arrive together and it’s pretty obvious by the permanent smile on both their faces that they’ve been up to no good today.

I hug my friend and we grab drinks before settling into the den. It’s fun to have friends over. The team are big and obnoxious but pretty damned funny too. They’re constantly making fun of each other and I learn a lot about my stepbrothers and their sordid pasts. I mean, I didn’t think they’d been living the chaste life of monks, but some of the stuff they’ve gotten up to, separately and together, would make a hooker blush. Their friends seem to be on a mission to air all their dirty laundry in front of me.

“Remember that girl, Amber, after that away game?”

Kameron groans, which tells me this is going to be worse than all the others. “Let’s leave Amber out of this,” he says.

One of the fullbacks, whose name I don’t remember, punches Kameron in the shoulder. “Fuck that. This is one of the best stories. Remember how she snuck into the locker rooms while we were all in the shower? She stripped off and joined us.”

“What?” I say, wondering if whether even half of what they are sharing is real.

“Turns out she hand a fantasy about getting fucked by the whole team, one after the other.”

I raise my eyebrows, thinking it sounds more like a dirty porn movie than a real-life situation. “Girls don’t really have fantasies like that,” I say. My comment is met with a round of bellowing laughter.

“Maisie, you really have no fucking idea,” the fullback says.

I look over at Kameron who is tight-lipped and doesn’t meet my eyes. “She had more cock that day than most women have in a lifetime.”

“Three holes,” someone says.

“I almost tore her a new one,” someone shouts from across the room.

My stomach turns as my night with the twins flashes into my mind. Two holes. Is that what they told their friends after? Is that why this conversation is happening, and Kameron looks as though he’s been sucking on a lemon?

Ugh. I wrap my arms around myself, pick up my phone and try to block out the rest of the conversation. I don’t want to know that poor Amber had over twenty guys come in her pussy without protection, or that my stepbrothers had anything to do with it. Joshua’s laughing way too hard, which doesn’t surprise me at all. It was probably the highlight of his life. Maybe he went last so he could revel in the filth of it all.

Fuck.

I don’t know if I’m feeling so judgmental about this because I don’t believe that any girl in her right mind would put herself in that position, or because I’m jealous. The frisson of pleasure I felt at being with Kyle and Kameron at the same time was nothing new to them. New or special.

Kyle’s stupid idea of bringing his brothers together through me is just a continuation of their previous warped sexual experiences. Maybe group sex is what it takes to really get them all off. I’ve read that watching too much porn can permanently change your attitude to sex and what can get you off. Maybe the same thing happened here? Too much gang banging and they can’t get it up for vanilla sex anymore.

I grab a bottle of beer from the table next to me, flip off the lid and gulp it down. I’m not going to be able to get through this night without a lot of lubrication. And I mean of the alcoholic kind rather the sexual kind.

“Easy,” Kameron says, noticing that I’ve finished the bottle in record time.

“I’m a grown woman,” I hiss. “I don’t need you mothering me, okay.”

Kameron’s jaw ticks with frustration but he doesn’t say anything. He’s heard the discussion and must be able to assume the effect it’s had on me. He doesn’t look proud of his part in it. At least I can see that.

I grab another bottle, watching his jaw tick again. It’s really making him mad to see me drink. Maybe I’ll get really drunk just to piss him off for treating me just like the sad girl in the locker room.

The beer isn’t as cold as it could be and the second bottle doesn’t go down as fast as the first, but by the time I’m done, the warmth in my belly has spread to my mind too. Sara pokes her head around the door and waves for me to follow her. I’m wobbly on my feet but only a little.

“Here.” Sara shoves a pink cocktail into my hand. Where she got the ingredients from, I dread to think. If they’ve been raiding Janice’s and Dad’s drinks cabinet, we’re fucked.

“What is it?”

“Something delicious,” she says. “I’m calling it ‘Sara’s Spectacular.’”

I sip the drink tentatively but gulp it when I realize that it actually tastes pretty good. “We should have parties like this more often,” I say with a slur in my voice.

Sara grins. “Should you be slowing down on that drink right now?”

I shake my head and it feels like the room is starting to spin. “This cocktail is exactly what I need to blot out my annoying stepbrothers.”

Joshua walks through a door behind Sara and stops when he sees us, then walks back out of the room. See, they’re not just annoying. They’re really strange too.

“Why do I get a feeling that you’re just trying to cover something up when you moan about them all the time?” She wiggles her eyebrows and I make a gagging noise, which she waves a hand at. “Me thinks you doth protest too much, girl,” she says. “If I didn’t have Red, I’d be slurping all over them.”

“Slurping. Ewww…gross.”

“Nothing gross about sucking a nice big cock.”

She’s not wrong there, but the imagery is getting a little too much at this point. I need some food to line my stomach before I get Sara to make me another one of these little pink miracles.

“Nothing wrong with sucking on a hotdog either,” I say. “Let’s do that now.”

Sara sputters with laughter and links arms with me as we sway toward the kitchen. As it turns out, there are no hotdogs left but there is plenty of pizza. I manage to stuff in a slice while Sara mixes our drinks. Jessie is leaning up against the counter, nursing a beer when his phone rings. “For fuck’s sake,” he mumbles under his breath before answering.

“Jameson, what do you want now?” He pauses and then looks around at the food. “No hotdogs. Just pizza.”

When he puts the phone back in his pocket, he starts to grab slices of pizza onto a small paper plate. “I think he thinks that I’m his damn servant,” he mumbles.

“I’ll take it,” I say.

Jessie looks up, his eyes narrowing in just the same way his brother’s do when they’re suspicious. What does he think I’m going to do? Put laxative on it? Spit on it? To be honest, that’s probably exactly what’s going through his mind right now. They’ve pranked me so much that they’re fully expecting me to try to get my own back at some point. What they don’t realize is that I’m way more mature than that. “I told Coach I’d keep an eye on him,” I say to explain.

Jessie grabs a beer from the counter and hands it to me, along with the plate, which I balance on my open palm. “Here. Take it to Lord Jameson. Tell him the kitchen staff were happy to oblige.” He gives a ridiculously flamboyant bow.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” I tell Sara, then start to wobble and sway my way to the staircase and up to Jameson’s room.

When I get there, I can hear the TV is on. I nudge the door open with my ass and replace Jameson alone in the same position as yesterday. What the hell?

“Room service,” I say in a terrible English accent.

Jameson looks at me and then back at the TV as I swing the door closed. Maybe he’s shut everyone out on purpose.

“Where’s Jessie?” he asks.

“I told him I’d bring you the food. I wanted to check up on you.”

“You’re not my mother, Maisie.”

I dump the plate of pizza onto his lap and press the beer into his hand. “I know that,” I say. “But I promised her that I’d make sure you’re okay while she’s gone.”

Jameson doesn’t move. His hand, which is wrapped around the beer, is clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white.

“Have your friends been up to see you?” I look around, wondering why the hell he’s sitting here by himself.

“Yeah,” he says. “Then they left.”

“How come?”

His eyes don’t leave the TV and it’s so obvious that he doesn’t want to be having this conversation. “Ask them,” he shrugs.

I turn and look at the door, considering what kind of roasting I’m going to give those hulking assholes downstairs for leaving their injured friend alone. I get that he’s not a bundle of laughs right now, but that shouldn’t matter. Not when your friend is hurt and low and in need of cheering up. Men just don’t get this shit. They’re so emotionally retarded most of the time that if they’re not talking about locker-room sluts or how much beer they chugged last weekend, they don’t know how to interact with each other.

My head swims again, the second pink cocktail beginning to spread through my veins.

“Can I hang out?” I ask Jameson.

“I don’t know why you’d want to. The fun is all happening downstairs.”

I climb onto his bed. “I wouldn’t call that fun. Tons of huge men talking about the girls they’ve torn up isn’t really my thing.”

Jameson shakes his head, taking a bite of pizza. “Those guys have a one-track mind.”

“And they think that bullshit is going to get them girls.” I laugh and so does Jameson, a fact that warms my heart. Even though I’m drunk, I’m still quite good at this.

“Yeah, ’cause that’s what every girl wants…to know exactly how much her guy has dicked around.”

Jameson offers me a slice of pizza but my stomach is full. “We all have a past,” he says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but sometimes that past should just stay exactly where it is.”

“Noted.”

Downstairs, there’s the rumble of more laughter and a high pitched screech. It’s probably a girl pretending that she doesn’t want to be groped, when in fact that’s exactly what she wants. If the stories have any truth to them, there seems to be enough girls out there with morals looser than the elastic on my time-of-the-month panties.

“What happened with that girl…the one your brothers were ribbing you about the first day I was here?” As soon as I’ve asked the question, I realize that I’ve made a mistake. The alcohol in my bloodstream has loosened my tongue and our companionable conversation has made me think that we’re more familiar than we actually are.

Jameson tenses immediately, his knuckles whitening as he draws his hand into a fist. He inhales and then exhales. “What did you say about the past staying where it is?”

“Yeah. Okay.” My instinct is to put my hand over his fist so that I can comfort him. Whatever happened in his past is obviously very raw and I had no intention of hurting Jameson or bring up something that is only going to take him lower.

He doesn’t pull his hand away. “I’m sorry,” I say.

“Maisie, you should go,” he says, his jaw ticking with tension.

“I don’t want to. I want to stay here, with you.”

“Why?” he asks. His fist flexes beneath mine, the sheer power of his huge hands a reminder of the power I felt when Kameron gripped my hips and Kyle my wrists. His eyes replace mine and they’re filled with something that looks a whole lot like longing. I brought up his past and now his bruised heart is exposed.

“Because I think you need a friend,” I say.

“Is that what you are? A friend.”

“A stepsister.”

He makes a rumbling noise in his throat at that.

“I just want to make you feel better,” I say.

“There’s only one thing that’ll make me feel better right now and I don’t think that’s where this is going,” he says, his voice laced with a huskiness that I’ve never heard before. The low rasp sends heat flushing between my legs. My heart speeds, the alcohol like a warm balm that’s soothing away all my usual inhibitions.

I know what would make Jameson feel better. Because it’s exactly what would make me feel better too.

“I…we could…”

“Jameson.” A fist pounds against the door, but Jameson’s eyes never leave mine. He knows exactly what I was going to say.

“Fuck off. I’m busy.”

“With your hand,” the voice says from outside.

“Fuck off,” he shouts again.

The man mutters outside but I can’t hear what he says because Jameson brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, gently parting my mouth. “Maisie…”

My eyes drift closed, the soft sensation lulling me into a daze. “What could we do?” he murmurs.

“This,” I say, my hand resting on his bicep. My God he feels strong, just like his brothers.

Jameson’s injured so I’m not expecting it when he grabs me around the waist and hauls me into his lap. With my legs either side of him, I can feel his cock, big and hard beneath my pussy. Shit. My hips move, the teasing pressure against my clit making me gasp.

I remember that day by the pool when he rubbed the lotion over my skin. The strength in his hands as they kneaded my flesh, the lingering way he stroked over the soft side of my breast. I knew then that he wanted me, that he thought of me as way more than just his annoying little stepsister. I also remember the way he held my head under the water of the pool when we were kids. That fear is something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget, but Jameson isn’t that boy anymore, just like I’m not that girl.

It was my words that the past should remain the past.

And what of the future? That isn’t something that I can think about when Jameson raises his hips against mine.

Existing in the present is all I can do.

His fingers replace my buttons, and I watch him open my blouse right to the bottom. He takes his time to move the fabric apart, a soft appreciative sound coming from his mouth when he sees the dark outline of my nipples through my sheer cream bra.

“Maisie’s all grown,” he says, fingers tracing the fabric along the soft swell of my breast. It dips between my cleavage and over the curve of my stomach until he’s ruffling up the hem of my skirt.

“You’ve grown a lot too,” I say, grinding my hips as his hands rise up my bare thighs to the cheeks of my ass. In a thong, there is a lot of naked flesh for him to feel and he groans, tugging me harder against him.

Oh…I think I could come just like this with more layers of fabric between us that I’d like, just the building pressure of our combined need making our movements frantic.

“That’s it,” he says as I lean forward, my hair forming a cascade around my face. He pulls me to him, our lips crashing, his tongue in my mouth more urgent than I can handle. The hand still on my ass controls my movements, grabbing at my flesh until it burns like a slap. Oh…I grasp his huge biceps, needing something to keep myself grounded. Oh…

And then it’s happening; the needy, greedy, drunken desperate orgasm, my panties soaking through. I flop onto Jameson, completely spent and more light-headed than I’ve ever been. Sex and alcohol are a powerful combination, especially when laced with the sight of the gorgeous man beneath me.

The gorgeous injured man.

“Shit,” I gasp, pushing up on my forearms. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt your leg?”

Jameson smiles, his dimples activating the fluttering of my heart. Shit he’s gorgeous.

“My leg is fine,” he says. “My cock, not so happy.”

I blink slowly. His cock. I glance into the space between us and see exactly what he’s talking about. The huge outline of a very hard, very hungry cock. I might have just seen stars, but Jameson’s a little behind me on the enjoyment front. That’s something I can remedy pretty easily. He’s wearing sweats so I reach into the waistband and take hold of the velvety hardness of it. Damn he’s big, but his brothers are just the same so this isn’t new to me. What is new is the urge I have to ride it.

I’m not usually a take-charge person when it comes to sex. I like it when guys are grabby and just a little bit rough. I love it when they’re so frantic that I can feel their urgency.

Jameson’s cock pulses in my hand and he stares at me as though he doesn’t really recognize the woman who’s holding it.

Maybe he doesn’t. To him I’m little Maisie who could never stand up for myself. I’m that girl who shuddered when he’d turn his dark gaze on me, who fought for breath when he almost drowned me.

But I’m not that Maisie anymore. I’m the Maisie who rises up, pushing her wet panties to the side so that she can sit on her stepbrother’s cock.

I slide down onto it so slowly that his thighs start to tremble against my calves. His hands come to my hip; I’m assuming to speed things up. He wants to get grabby again, but I’m not going to let him. This is about me taking control. He’s going to take what I have to give. I grab his wrist and pin it to the bed, doing the same with the other arm when he tries again. I stay totally still, only half impaled but already feeling full enough to burst.

“Still,” I say, lifting my hips just enough to make his eyes roll, lowering down enough to make him bite his lip.

“Fuck,” he hisses as he’s finally buried as deep as he can go. When I look between us, my pussy looks just the same as it did wrapped around Kyle’s cock; labia flared and clit straining for contact.

I move slowly, rolling my hips, grazing my clit against him with each sway. The bones and tendons in his wrists flex beneath my hands as he works to control himself. This big, strong, powerful man is totally in my power and the thought sends a thrill through me strong enough to harden my nipples.

I release one of Jameson’s arms to open the front fastening of my bra. My breasts spill out, and Jameson’s eyes practically bug out of his head.

They’re big, but it’s not like he didn’t know that. He’s seen me in my swimwear. He’s been staring at them in a bra for the past five minutes, but I guess seeing them bare is different. I take his hand and press it open-palmed so he can feel their softness. The groan he makes sounds pain-filled. Maybe he is in pain; cock throbbing, balls tight and high, ready to release. I’m not going to get him off fast, though. I want to make him beg.

I slow my hips, resting my hand on his abs, relishing the firmness and the heat radiating from his body. This powerful man who can tear a football field in two.

“Ride it,” he says, his hand moving to my hip again, wanting to set the pace.

I don’t do as he asks and he grits his teeth.

“Did you like rubbing cream into my skin?” I ask him.

“Fuck yeah,” he says. “I came back to my room after and thought about what it would have been like to slide my hand right up between your legs until my fingers were buried in your pussy.

“Did you come?”

“Fuck yeah,” he says.

“Do you want to come now?”

“More than anything,” he groans, fingers pinching at my nipples.

I lean forward until my lips are almost touching his, hips starting to speed.

“Does my pussy feel like you imagined it would?”

“Better,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “So much better.” Jameson’s head snaps back, his body arching off the bed. “Faster…” he pants and I know I’ve got him.

When he comes inside me I feel powerful, each pulse of his pleasure sending waves of happiness through me. I feel electrified, buzzing with the energy that comes from taking chances and everything working out just fine.

Jameson shudders, his breath coming fast as he shuts his eyes to world and sinks into his orgasm and I watch it all. This strong man completely undone by my body.

“Maisie,” he murmurs.

“Jameson.” I nuzzle his neck, breathing in his scent that is just like his brothers’.

“I think we just did something we definitely shouldn’t have done,” he says. His words are a complete contrast to the action of his hands as they stroke my back and my ass, relishing my curves.

“Probably,” I say. “But it was just what you needed, wasn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer, but when he sucks my bottom lips between his, I can tell that it definitely was.

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