BODYGUARD BROTHERS – A MFM MENAGE ROMANCE
I want my twin stepbrothers to do more than just guard my body…
HER BILLIONAIRE BOSSES – A MFM MENAGE ROMANCE
My bosses like to share everything and now they've set their sights on me...
THREE BROTHERS – A MFMM MENAGE ROMANCE
My life was falling apart until my three stepbrothers came to my rescue…
FOSTER BROTHERS – A MFM MENAGE ROMANCE
I didn’t mean to have s*x with my foster
brothers…
KEEP READING FOR AN EXCEPRT OF FOSTER BROTHERS…
Missi
I was given my name by the seven-year-old boy who found me by a dumpster
wrapped in rags.
Hudson said that he loved me at first sight and he'd never let me go. He kept
his promise for as long as he could. He and Flint were my foster brothers until
circumstances forced us apart.
My life has always been hard and trouble just won’t seem to let me go. The
chatroom is where I go to find a connection, but this time I get way more than
I bargained for.
Hudson
My heart belongs to a girl I never met.
I’m a fantasy maker. A name in a chatroom, a finger, and a voice, and if you’re
standing on the balcony at Club Forbidden, I’m going to make you come.
Except the girl with blonde hair like a pixie doesn’t leave it at that. She
kisses me and tells me she wants more. I keep getting the feeling that I know
her, but I break my rule and take her back to my place anyway.
When I find out who she is I don’t know what to do, but I need to make sure she’s
safe before time runs out.
Flint
I’m a fighter, a brawler, an MMA champion. I take out my frustrations in the
ring so I can be there for my brother.
When he had to leave his NFL career behind, he gave up on everything, so
finding a girl in his bed is a relief.
Then I realize who she is and everything changes.
Missi was my sister but she's all grown up now. I can't help the way she
makes me feel and I'm damn well not going to feel guilty about it.
I know there is something she’s not telling me, though, but whatever it is, I’m
going to do what I do best and protect the ones I love for as long as I can.
Foster Brothers is a 55,000-word standalone MENAGE romance novel with a happy
every after.
1
HUDSON
The club is dark. I stay in the shadows, clothed in black, eyes down. I don’t order a drink. I’m not here to dance. It’s not a sex club, but that’s why I’m here. I’m a finger and a voice and if a woman is standing on the balcony in the darkest corner, I’ll make her come.
Every Friday I travel across town for this. I don’t seek my own satisfaction, well, not until later at my own hand. I don’t know who it’ll be or what she’ll be like. Her smell, her shape and the sound she’ll make as she orgasms, are all to be discovered.
The first time was pre-arranged. There are dark places on the internet for people like me, and the women who advertise for an anonymous sexual experience with a stranger. Her requirements were simple. She would wait on the balcony at Club Forbidden, looking at the view. The man would come up behind her, close but not touching, and say ‘every night when I go to sleep, I die’ and she would reply ‘and the next morning when I awake, I am reborn.’ The quote by Gandhi was the code to unlocking her legs. She wanted to come against the finger of a stranger and never see his face. It was that last part that made it perfect for me. My face is a problem, especially when it comes to women. Let’s just say I’m well known in some circles and that can lead to certain assumptions.
The first woman had hair the color of melted chocolate and legs like an athlete. My heart pounded as I approached, but she’d been still as the night. My voice sounded unusually low as I said the words. When she replied, she spread her legs wider and I slipped up behind her, hand gripping her hip at first, breathing in the floral smell of her shampoo, hesitating. Her hips wiggled, an invitation, and I slipped my hand ever so slowly down the front of her pants, feeling the soft skin of her stomach and the bareness of her pussy until my finger hit the slick, pulsing heat of her clit. God, she’d sighed as I circled it, rubbing slowly, slowly, as she remained totally still. The silence between us was cavernous but somehow it just made everything more intense. Her body went as tight as a bow as I circled and circled, tapping lightly then harder until she was shuddering. When I could feel she was close I pinched it between my thumb and forefinger and that was what drove her over the edge. As she came, I pushed two fingers up inside her cunt to feel her muscles rippling, and the hook of my fingers was the only thing that stopped her from falling. When she finished I pulled my hand from her panties and left the club, driving home before I slipped the hand that smelled of her pussy into my own pants. I came so hard, kneeling on the cold, tiled floor, that it had been an awakening of sorts.
For most people, finger fucking a stranger would be considered remote, but for me it was a level of intimacy that I hadn’t achieved in a while. Sex had always been a function of life, like eating and drinking. Then things changed so much, and I didn’t know how to let go with someone like that anymore. This way I didn’t have to connect.
All I had to do was make someone’s fantasy come true. I did it once and after that, I wanted to do it again.
Every week I return, but it’s always a different woman. I make their fantasy come true in the hope that some of their satisfaction will somehow find its way back to me. I see contentment in others that I can’t find for myself. It’s too late for me. Too risky.
Happiness is something intangible.
For now, I’m a fantasy maker.