BODYGUARD BROTHERS: A TWIN STEPBROTHER MENAGE ROMANCE Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Samantha Twinn

  Bodyguard Brothers

  A Ménage Romance

  By

  Samantha Twinn

  © 2017 Samantha Twinn

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

  Kindle Edition

  Cover Art – www.vivianmonirdesign.com

  DESCRIPTION

  I want my twin stepbrothers to do more than just guard my body…

  I don’t have a problem getting guys. I’m Victoria Carter, daughter of a Hollywood actor and on the precipice of becoming a star myself. The trouble is, the men I’m obsessed with are forbidden.

  Ever since my father married their mom, I’ve fantasized about what it would be like to have s*x with my twin stepbrothers. They were my first teenage crushes. Gorgeous, funny and protective, they always treated me as a slightly annoying little sister. But when dad died, they were there to pick up my pieces.

  Having feelings for one of them would be bad enough, but I can’t choose between them, no matter how much easier it would be.

  I’ve resisted having a security detail until I get my very own stalker. My stepbrothers want to protect me. They own Defender Inc., a fledgling security company, but I don’t want to put them at risk. If anything happened to them while they were guarding me, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

  But when my hired bodyguards fail to keep me safe, Antony and Kieren won't take no for an answer. They’re going to be with me 24/7 and the temptation is going to be unbearable.

  Or maybe having them sleeping under my roof will finally give me the opportunity to take what I've always wanted.

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Samantha Twinn

  1

  VICTORIA

  I’m in a bubble.

  The interior of the limo is so quiet; the only sound is the soft whoosh of the air conditioner. The thick doors and darkly tinted glass close off the outside world, making me feel safe, protected. I slide across the soft leather seats and press my cheek to the cool window. Even two blocks away I can see the lights from the theater arcing across L.A.’s always-orange night sky. As the car glides ever closer, I can see the lights from the paparazzi camera’s flash, shooting stars across the gathered crowds of fans, actors, and hangers-on.

  My stomach is a gathered knot. Inside the car, I’m safe. Out there…

  I reach up and press the button on the intercom, “Alber, around the block if you will, please.”

  “Yes, miss.” Alber’s voice sound tinny through the speaker.

  I slide back, pressing into the seat, trying to make myself small as the car glides past the crowds who crane their necks, wondering who’s behind the glass, trying to catch a glimpse of fame. It’s exhausting.

  I know that I should be more grateful for this opportunity. Thousands of talented and beautiful girls arrive in California every year, each one with dreams shining in her eyes and hope in her heart. I’ve never had to hope because I’m Hollywood Royalty, with a capital “R”. The dream would be handed to me on a gold platter if that’s how I wanted it.

  I’m the daughter of Michael Carter, Mr. Hollywood himself. Entertainment elite. Top of the A-list. There’s not a gold statuette or industry award in all of California that hasn’t had his name etched across it multiple times. Pick a celebrity rag and you’ll find him featured hundreds of times. Magazine covers, documentaries, tell-all books; more than I care to count. His chocolate curls and blue eyes - traits he passed on to me - saw him voted Sexiest Man of the Year six times. Actor, director, producer, my dad was Hollywood’s Golden boy for over two decades. My dad was amazing. I miss him so much.

  I watch the neon lights flash by outside. The limo is silent still. I could have had an entire entourage with me; publicists, make-up artists, assistants, people who claim to be my friends. There could be champagne flowing, music pumping, and bodies jostling across the leather-covered bench seats. I wanted to do this alone. At least, I thought I did.

  I never wanted to ride on my dad’s coattails. It would have been easy for me to call up any of the famous directors or producers in my dad’s phonebook and say “I want to do a movie.” These were the people I’d grown up with, my tenth birthday had been more star-studded than the Cannes Film Festival. if you’ve ever watched TV, you know who my godfather is. I had a charmed and protected childhood and doors wouldn’t have just opened for me if I’d wanted, they’d have been blown open by the biggest names in the industry. But that’s isn’t what I wanted. If I was going to act, it was going to be on my terms. I didn’t want recognition because of who my father was. I wanted to do this on my own merits.

  When my father’s agent came to me with an offer, I took it on one condition. If I’m going to do this, I’m not doing it as ‘Michael Carter’s daughter’. If he was going to pitch me to casting agents, he had to pitch me like I was any other actress.

  And so, I find myself alone on what is one of the biggest nights of my life.

  If I’m honest, there are a couple of people I would have liked to be here tonight; Kieren and Antony, my brothers. Well, my step-brothers. I was thirteen when dad married Amelia Chase. Amelia had been a model and her twin sons, at sixteen, were as gorgeous as their mother. If their mother had been 6’2”, dark and delicious, with a body like chiseled marble, that is. They’d been my first crushes, my tender thirteen-year-old heart had pined for my stepbrothers while my friends oohed and giggled every time they were around. I’d spent many teenaged days by the pool with friends, furtively studying my stepbrothers tanned torsos and the way their wet swim trunks clung to their
muscular thighs. While they had never treated me as anything but a slightly annoying little sister, teasing me sometimes to the point of tears, they had always been there when I truly needed them. After dad’s death, they’d been my rocks, keeping me anchored in the spiraling eddies that threatened to sweep me away. I’d even taken their last name as mine when I started acting to distance myself from the fame of Carter.

  Now, with the crowds and the noise and the flashing camera’s, I feel those same eddies swirling around me again. I need my anchors.

  A glance out of the window shows me the back of the theater, the rising walls three stories of dull, dirty brick. Nothing like the sparkling, neon lit glamour of the entrance just a block and half away. In some ways, I think, this building is the perfect metaphor for Hollywood. I hit the speaker again and ask the driver to stop before fishing my phone out of my tiny, black-beaded evening bag.

  Thumbing it open, I scroll until I find Antony’s number and listen as the phone rings on the other end. Antony will answer, he always does. Kieren, on the other hand, only answers the phone if he’s in the right mood. By the third ring, Antony’s there. His low, silky voice sends a shiver of goosebumps over my skin.

  “Vickie,” he drawls, “how you doing, superstar? Shouldn’t you be surrounded by your fawning public right now?”

  “Don’t call me Vickie.”

  His laugh is warm and husky in my ear. “Seriously, aren’t you late for something? Like, I don’t know, your first ever premiere? I can’t wait to see that blonde with the big fake ones ask you who you’re wearing.”

  “I don’t know if I can do this.” My voice is shivery with nerves.

  “Hey, hey.” Suddenly Antony is all seriousness, the teasing tone gone. “You can do this, girl. I don’t know anyone else who’s better suited to the movie star life than you.”

  “That’s the thing, though. I don’t know if I want the movie star life. I just wanted to act, you know. As me, not as ‘Michael Carter’s daughter’. Now, that’s all anyone can talk about. They don’t even bother using my name in the headlines anymore. I’d really like to know who outed me as Victoria Carter. I don’t know, maybe I should give this up. Go live on an emu ranch in Montana or something.”

  “You know we’ve got your back, little sister. Don’t think about being Michael’s daughter…”

  “Easier said.”

  “…concentrate on being you. When you answer those reporters’ questions, don’t think about what your dad would want you to say. Be Victoria. Smart, funny, sometimes sweet, with a great rack. And emu’s smell.”

  “Hey, this is Hollywood, you know the great rack comes first.” Antony has managed to make me smile again.

  “Hey, you should always lead with your greatest asset.”

  “Shut up.”

  I can hear Kieren laughing in the background. “Kieren’s there?”

  “Yeah. He says good luck. Sorry, break a leg.”

  “How’s it going, anyhow?” I ask. Antony and Kieren have recently started a security agency and I know they’ve had a rough start. With their MMA training, they are both more than qualified, but in this business, they’re competing with ex-special forces military and CIA agents. It’s a tough business.

  “Not too bad really.” He’s lost the teasing edge of his voice again. I can hear the doubt creeping in so I resort to teasing. Anything to make him laugh.

  “I really don’t know, Antony. Is Kieren suited to a security firm? I don’t want to say he’s prone to violence but we both know he’s…impulsive. What are you going to do when he shoves some pap’s camera down his throat?”

  Antony laughs softly. “I don’t think we have to worry about that. He gets it. He knows what’s at stake here. We’re…working.” Antony’s voice is cautiously optimistic. “Anyhow, how about you? You need round the clock bodyguards now that you’re Tinsel Town’s newest “It” girl?”

  “You must be joking, Ant. I’m no It girl, and I’m not that famous. Well, not on my own anyhow.”

  “Ah, you got this baby. They’re gonna love you. The real you.” I can feel Antony’s smile through the phone. “Then you’ll need us to come guard you twenty-four/seven.”

  I snort. “Right, like I want you two around that much. Ugh.” When I say it, I know I don’t mean it. I’d like nothing better than to spend all my time with my stepbrothers. Just the thought has my face heating up.

  Antony laughs at me again. “Go get’em, baby. You’re gonna knock their socks off.”

  “What are you? 80?”

  I can still hear him laughing when I tap off my phone.

  Less than two minutes later and the limo is easing around the corner, stopping at the end of the long red carpet that spreads from the sidewalk to the street like a field of poppies. Velvet ropes draped down either side of the carpet form a walkway and give the illusion of holding back the surging crowds. The muscular men in black suits and sunglasses spaced every few feet apart make me a feel a little better. The one on the end peels off and bends down to open my limo door. He offers me his hand, which I take so my sky-high stilettos don’t make me stumble as I exit the car. The security guard stands in front of me for a moment, giving me a few seconds to collect myself before I must expose myself to the crowds.

  I quickly smooth my hands over my gold, thigh-length cocktail dress. It’s two parts conservative, one part daring, the front neckline coming up high in a choker collar that circles my neck. I’m so covered from the front I’d make a nun proud. My back, though, is completely exposed to the night air. The dress dips so low in the rear I couldn’t even wear panties. Strategically placed fashion tape is the only thing keeping me from a serious wardrobe malfunction. I give the security guard a small nod and he steps aside.

  Fire bright camera flashes and ecstatic screams roar over me. I’m blinded. The sheer adrenaline pouring off the crowds freezes my breath in my chest. Then suddenly, I’m moving. I don’t know how I’m propelling myself down the sidewalk, the carpet a river of crimson under my feet. I feel like it’s going to suck me down into its bloody depths, but I’m moving and walking and a smile is plastered on my face. Voices scream for me.

  “Victoria, Victoria, turn this way look this way show us some leg look at me over here over here Victoria Victoria Victoria.”

  Then I’m through the gauntlet. A tiny redhead dressed in black with an official looking earpiece wraps her hand around my arm and steers me toward the step at the front of the theater. I can’t hear what she’s saying so I nod and plaster my smile on again. She plants me in front of the screen covered in entertainment TV and vodka company logos and walks away, leaving me to the crowd of photographers and reporters.

  I smile and turn and pivot and say hello to people who act like they know me. A perky blonde from a national TV magazine shoves a microphone under my nose and asks me who I’m wearing. I smirk on the inside thinking about Antony watching the entertainment reports later. Suddenly, the cameras swivel away from me. Someone with far more clout than me has arrived. I can’t see anything over the crowds but the top of a head, short black hair artfully mussed. I step aside and take a minute to breathe.

  A man, plain in his jeans and button up shirt, approaches me. He must be another reporter. I don’t see any camera’s so he must be in print. I smile at him, getting ready for another round of the same old questions.

  “Miss Chase. Or Miss Carter…which would you prefer?”

  “Please, Victoria is fine.”

  “Victoria then.” He gives me a dazzling smile, as though I’ve just given him a gift.

  “So, did you have questions for me? I’ve only got a minute before I need to go in.”

  “Yes. No. Well, I just wanted to say, Victoria, that I’m sorry about your father. I know it must have been hard to lose him at such a young age.”

  A lump forms, quick and hard in my throat. “Thank you for saying that…”

  “Dennis,” he responds shyly.

  “Thank you, Dennis. That’s very
kind.”

  “And I just wanted to say…I saw your stage show, in New York you know, the day before he died. And I know, I mean, I went back again and I could see how much it affected you. How much your performance changed. Because of it.”

  “I…” I don’t know what to say to this man.

  “And I know that the reason you kept going, kept acting, is because you want to honor your father’s memory. I think you’re doing a wonderful job keeping his memory alive. It’s beautiful. But you’re a beautiful person so it’s to be expected.” He beams at me.

  “Thank you again, Dennis.” He’s moved closer and is crowding me a little so that I back further away from the crowds, toward the street.

  “Would you like to maybe get a drink with me? Ditch all this craziness?” His brown eyes are shining, hopeful under the neon lights.

  “Thank you, but no, I can’t.” I take another step back. “I have to attend the premiere. It’s in the contract…”

  “C’mon, you really think they’ll miss you…you’ve already done the part that really counts.”

  “No, I can’t.” I back up again, almost running into the step.

  “Let’s go.” Dennis is more insistent now. “My car is just around the corner.”

  “No. Goodbye.” Panic rises in my throat, choking my reply. When I turn to walk away, find security, he grabs my arm, fingers pinching through the thin gold fabric.

  “Did you just try to walk away from me? You can’t want this, this, fakeness. We could have something real.” He’s trying to push me as he talks, putting his body between me and the cameras. Does no one see what’s happening? The crowds are too loud and my voice too thin to scream.

  Then suddenly he’s snatched away from me. Two burly guards hold him securely, looking between me and Dennis.

  “You okay, Miss Chase?”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine.” My voice is breathless and shaky. I pull in a lungful of air, count slowly as I exhale. I smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  One of them gives Dennis a shake. “You want us to call the cops?” I see the blood drain from Dennis’s face.