Anonymous Encounters(35)

And Blake smiled at me obediently.

"Yes, Mistress Callie. Whatever you say."





CHAPTER TEN


Blake




The brunette giggled as I propped the dead cat up.

"Erkel want a hamburger?" I made the cat speak, like a ventriloquist.

"Stop Blake, it's so wrong," she laughed. "The poor thing's dead, don't make him ask for a hamburger."

And I grinned in turn, continuing to make the cat dance, do little jigs, all to get a smile from this beautiful girl.

I have to admit, it was totally out of character for us. My brother and I  are hardened cops, undercover at Canterdale High to ferret out a  suspected drug ring after two teens died under questionable  circumstances.

But things changed when we met Callie. She was different from the others   –  soft, giving, vulnerable, a scholarship student at this ritzy school.  There were no airs about her, so we felt comfortable letting our guard  down as well, entertaining her during lab class, doing silly stuff like  making dead cats dance.

Bryan was just as lame as me. My twin had been sorting out the  dissection instruments, sharp-looking knives, a vial of green liquid, a  piece of tarp, but he was unexpectedly circumspect towards Callie.

"Girlie, we gotta tie this guy down," he said gently, nodding at the cat. "You want to turn away while I do it?"

"But why?" she asked, gazing at the matted fur askance. "I mean, there's no cutting yet right?"

"There's no slicing, true," said my brother gently, "but I'm going to have to break his arms to lash him to the tray."

That did it. Suddenly our girl looked nauseated again, like she was going to hurl.

"Oh god," she whispered. "It hasn't even started yet and it's already bad. Oh god."         

     



 

I comforted her as she turned away, slinging a muscular arm over her  hunched shoulders. Callie was built exactly right, the way that Bryan  and I prefer -- curvy, luscious, with big boobs and a narrow waist that  led to wide, swinging hips. I could watch those hips all day when she  walked, the bump-da-dump mesmerizing, a rhythm that lulled me into a  daze even in the most inappropriate of circumstances.

Because Bryan and I were definitely engaging in unethical behavior.  Sure, we've fucked girls on the job before, it's a necessity when you're  undercover in a bad neighborhood. You've got to show that you're a man,  treating women like dirt sometimes, screwing hos, prostitutes, even a  mafia princess once in a while.

But Callie was different. She was a nice girl, someone we'd want to know  even in our regular lives. So despite the fact that what we were doing  wasn't technically wrong, I knew it might not hold up under a  departmental investigation.

Plus there was the fact that we'd let Callie in on our greatest secret  –   that Bryan and I regularly engage in twin sex. It sounds gross, I know,  bizarre even. But it works for us. My brother and I pound each other,  drinking each other's cum and anal sweat, lubing up our members for each  other. What can I say? The bisexual lifestyle suits us just fine.

And now Callie's become a much-needed third. Her home life isn't really  stable, so she's moved in with Bryan and I, into our little trailer on  the edge of St. Francis Wood. She told us about her family a little.

"I'm not sure where to start," she confessed. "I mean, do you guys watch porn?"

Porn? Silly girl, we'd been part of the vice squad for years now and  sometimes we had to watch porn as part of the job. It sounds like it  should have been fun, but trust me it's not. At least not when you're  watching victims being degraded against their will.

But the little girl didn't know that, she thought we were just senior transfers from a bad neighborhood in New York.

"Sure we watch porn," I tossed off casually, sharing a glance with my  brother. "What guy doesn't? In fact, we pay for a streaming channel," I  added with a wink. That was true. We forked over money each month for a  gay site as inspiration, wanking off as hard male bodies writhed and  shuddered in ecstasy.

"Well," the brunette said slowly. "Do you know of a porn star named Violet Wood?"

Violet Wood? She was practically the next Sasha Grey, a break-out star  with huge gazongas and a nubile, flexible body. She'd come to fame  recently because she resembled some famous model.

Callie nodded, as if reading my mind.

"My sister is Jenna Walsh, the model she impersonated," she said slowly.  "But it's complicated because Jenna and Violet actually are twins."

My brother had laughed with disbelief.

"You're telling us that not only are you related to a famous fashion  model but also a notorious porn star?" he'd asked. "No way!"

But Callie shook her head, unsmilingly.

"It's true," she said slowly. "Jenna was never like the rest of us, but I  genuinely thought she was my sister. Turns out, she was actually given  away at birth and Violet is her biological twin. So the resemblance  isn't make-up or coincidence. It's because they share the same DNA."

That made me frown.

"How is the relationship between Jenna and Violet now?" I asked with a  frown. As an identical twin myself, I knew all about twin connections.  "It must have been a shock to realize you have a secret twin out there."

"I don't know," said Callie unhappily. "Jenna's practically disavowed  us, she never felt like she belonged to the family anyways. So from us  four girls  …  there's really just three left," she said sadly.

And my heart went out to her. Maybe her older sister was a flashy  international star whose mug stared out from the hottest magazines, but  Jenna would always be big sister to our girl and Callie missed her.

"No worries honey," I said pulling her into my lap. "Bryan and I are here for you now," I said, stroking those brunette curls.

She sighed, leaning her head against my chest, nuzzling into my chest, her softness warm and trusting in my arms.         

     



 

"Thanks Blake," she murmured, her voice tinged with weariness. "I  appreciate it, you can't imagine how tumultuous these last two years  have been."

And I stroked her hair more, my brother coming to join us on the couch.  It was almost idyllic, surrounding the girl of our dreams, making sure  she was okay, happy, taken care of. Okay, so maybe we were living in a  shitty little trailer for the time being, but what counted was being  together, making sure Callie felt safe and content.

Which was why we'd taken pains to exclude her friend Chrissy from the  dissection today. The blonde had been useful so far  –  she'd hosted a  party at her house where Bryan and I had done some undercover  investigation. We'd learned that Canterdale isn't as terrible as it  seems, that the kids, despite being rich and spoiled, aren't bad  …  at  least not in the criminal sense of the word.

After doing Callie in Chrissy's bedroom, we'd snuck downstairs, straightening out our clothes, trying to look nonchalant.

"Oh there you are!" squealed Chrissy, her eyes darting between the three  of us suspiciously. "Where have you been? Bryan, I went to the kitchen  to re-fill your drink and you disappeared," she accused.

"Oh right," said my brother. "Sorry about that, just went to the restroom and got distracted," he stated.

"Did you find it?" asked Chrissy, still suspicious. "I mean, it's been  forty minutes and the bathroom's right there," she said, gesturing to a  closed door behind us.

"Oh I just whizzed in a potted plant," tossed off my twin with a  salacious grin. Man, that guy had the moves because instead of being  grossed out, Chrissy just giggled and started flirting again.

"No way!" she said. "I hope you take lots of Vitamin K because it's good for leafy greens you know," she simpered.

And that had been that, or so we thought.

But suddenly, the bathroom door burst open and two kids came out, stumbling a bit as they laughed and pushed each other.

"Hey man!" chattered one boy to the other.

The two were gangling, unreTylerable looking adolescents. They would  have been okay-looking had it not been for unfortunate haircuts and a  bad case of acne.

"Yeah way!" said the other, "I swear it's true."

My brother and I frowned at each other. What seems like an innocuous  exchange to the general public can sometimes set off the radar of a cop.  Teenage boys are notorious trouble-makers and the way these two were  acting  …  I don't know. I mean, what were two male adolescents doing  together in the toilet anyways?

Without saying a word, Bryan disappeared into the now-vacated bathroom,  presumably to relieve himself, but I knew he'd be checking for drug  residue. Even if you're careful, crack is hard not to spill and almost  always leaves traces on the bathroom sink, the cover of the toilet,  wherever you'd done the deed.

Meanwhile, I eyed the boys with an impassive face as they stumbled off, my arm still slung around Callie.