Page 15 of Double Massive: A Twin Stepbrother Romance
Even the word “host” made me flush. It made me think of hosting some kind of depraved sex party, where I’d be servicing the guests.
But Logan stepped in, smoothly and calmly, rescuing me from my obvious discomfort.
“Kacey, the least we can do is give you a ride back to the City. How about it?” he asked.
“Oh thank you, we appreciate it,” gushed my mom. “Kacey you’re always saying how the train is late, how it takes forever. Why don’t you ride back with them? It’s Sunday night, traffic shouldn’t be bad.”
“No Ma, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “I have a lot of stuff, I don’t want to burden Logan and Lance.”
“No burden,” said Lance.
“No trouble at all,” said Logan.
And so it was settled. My tattered suitcase was packed into the back of the Tesla, and I waved goodbye to my mom and new stepdad as we zoomed off.
“So Kacey,” said Lance. “This is interesting, given the circumstances. Your mom thinks you work at a non-profit?” He smiled wickedly, throwing me a glance from the front seat.
Oh god. I squirmed in the back. I was in such a small space with these men, their massive forms so close in the compact car. I flushed again, my breasts enlarging, my bottom moistening in the tight confines.
“Um … yeah,” I confessed. We’d talked about our jobs at lunch, and I’d hastily spoken before the twins could say anything. “I work in immigration reform at the Urban Justice Project,” I’d said quickly, giving them a swift glance, pleading with them to keep their mouths shut.
And my brothers had taken the cue.
“I’m sure you’re an excellent advocate,” said Lance.
“Your dedication to eradicating poverty is impressive,” added Logan, with a wry grin my way.
I was silently appreciative, shooting them a grateful look of thanks. But now the moment had arrived, and my brothers and I had a lot of ground to cover.
“My mom and I … I don’t want her to worry about me,” I said slowly from the back seat. “She’s sick and was worried enough when I headed off to the city on my own.”
“That’s true,” nodded Logan thoughtfully, eyeing me in the rearview mirror. “Our dad mentioned that he was treating her as a patient, and usually he only sees fairly complicated cases,” he said.
“Yes, so … I didn’t want to tell her that things didn’t exactly go smoothly when I moved to New York. I was supposed to have a scholarship to attend the New School, but somehow that got all messed up, and there was no money for tuition. So I figured I’d work for a semester, save up, and then re-enroll. But it didn’t exactly work that way,” I said shamefacedly. “I couldn’t find a job. Not even Starbucks. I guess since they offer health benefits and tuition reimbursement, everyone wants to work for them these days.”
My brothers exchanged a look. Okay, as high-flying real estate brokers, hearing me pine for a job at Starbucks was below their usual strata. But this wasn’t the time to mince words. They’d already seen me dance and knew what I did for a living.
“But baby,” said Logan softly. “Surely there was a place for you somewhere. Maybe as a nanny or paralegal?”
I smiled bitterly.
“Believe me, I tried,” I said. “To work childcare in NYC, you need a license, and most law firms want their paralegals to have college degrees,” I said. “Which I don’t have,” I added pointedly.
My brothers exchanged another glance. I could tell something was brewing and it wasn’t good. But before I could say anything, we pulled into the driveway of an expensive-looking building, a doorman running out to greet the twins.
“Mr. Phillips,” he said courteously, nodding at them both. “Welcome back.”