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The Trashy Virgin(25)



So yeah, Katy, Jason and I live in the present because life is too  short. There's no point going around in circles, chasing your tail when  you've got everything you want right in front of you. And for us, that's  Katy Parks, curvy brunette, sensuous lover, our sweetheart with the  generous body and even more generous smile. What's going to happen, I  don't know because no one can predict the future, but for now, the  trashy virgin was ours to keep  …  and to love.





EPILOGUE


Katy




So do you think I'm trashy?

Do you think I'm trash because I live in a trailer park?

Do you think I'm trash for adoring two men, two men who practically started out as my stepdad and stepbrother?

I don't blame you if you do. Maybe I would too, if I were in someone else's shoes.

But life teaches you lessons, and I've learned mine, word for word, cover to cover.

Because my particular lesson is that love can triumph  …  if you let it. I  adore Jason and Brent, I appreciate everything they do for me, with me,  to me. And it goes beyond just the physical. We're bonded in a way that  transcends words, each of us with our own lives but also completely  intertwined, our bodies worshipping one another, our words caressing  where hands can't touch, our souls meeting with a bright, burning flame.

And I realize it sounds cheesy, but it's true. Because we've established  a system that works for now, one that keeps us together, yet keeps us  decently shielded from prying eyes. First, Jason couldn't keep living  with Brent in that small space. They were two alpha males, two dominants  who would continuously clash if they shared living quarters. So Jason  moved into a house in the woods, one that he'd been building for the  last year, one with plenty of room and chock full of his gorgeous  woodwork, everything crafted by hand.

And that's where we meet for our loving, to savor one another, spend  time in each other's company. No one knows that we're together because I  moved back in with my mom while Brent lives in his trailer, just like  before. So we could be three old friends, gathering at Jason's place,  celebrating together, bonded because of our tumultuous past, Brent  rescuing us from troubled childhoods.

But behind closed doors with the curtains drawn, deep in the woods, it's  so much more than that. We're a triad, the three of us sharing, loving,  fucking, and it's a mature relationship, one where we ride the ups and  downs together, reveling in our triumphs, consoling each other's  failures, absolutely everything out on the table, our hearts bare, our  bodies naked.

And maybe one day we'll go public, who knows? Because as every day  passes, I'm less and less afraid of being called "trashy." Everything is  relative, and the way I feel about myself, the way I conduct myself,  isn't trashy at all. I'm just in a non-traditional relationship, one  with two men, two lovers, and that's not trashy in and of itself.

So yeah, we'll see. I love Jason and Brent, and the feeling is mutual,  returned a hundred-fold even. For now, it's more enough, and as for  stepping into the spotlight in the future? Well  …  you never know.



THE END



BONUS CHAPTER

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LIKED THIS BOOK? THEN READ THE VIRGIN SERIES

The Naughty Virgin: A Teacher Student Romance

The Wicked Virgin: An Office Romance

The Dirty Virgin: A Stepdad Romance

Delivering the Virgin

Beg Me: Sold To My Dad's Boss **bestseller**





COMPLIMENTS OF THE AUTHOR

Please scroll down to read Double Huge: A Twin Stepbrother Romance next!





DOUBLE HUGE


A Twin Stepbrother Romance



(Erotic Romance, PI, Ménage, Double Vaginal)



© 2016



By Cassandra Dee





Want to hear about my newest ménage romance? Addicted to sizzling twins,  triplets and more? Join my mailing list at http://eepurl.com/cgt2DD and  get FREE BOOKS unavailable elsewhere!





A SNEAK PEEK



I felt like I owed them, these generous, giving men.

"Saxon, Stryke," I whispered. "I want to do something for you."

"Hmm?" asked Stryke, distracted. He was stroking my breast, watching  with fascination as my nips hardened under my t-shirt, listening with  only one ear.         

     



 

"I want to do a double vaginal penetration," I whispered shyly. "Both of you in my pussy at once."

That got their attention, blue eyes snapping towards me.

"Melanie, are you sure?"





CHAPTER ONE


Melanie




I looked at the tuition bill in shock. Forty-six thousand dollars for  one measly year of school? I couldn't believe it  …  and I couldn't afford  it.

I know I'm lucky in a way. I attend Trinity University, an elite private  school in Virginia that has strong academics, an amazing athletic  program, and a storied past combining the best of Southern tradition  with Northern innovation and learning. It's not that we're Confederate  flag-toting rednecks or anything, but a lot of kids here have famous  last names, and in Virginia, a last name still means something.

Unfortunately I don't have a prominent last name and forty-six thousand  in tuition was pretty much impossible. My mom divorced my dad when I was  just a baby and we never saw that loser again. She scrimped and saved  to raise me and did a good job, truth be told. Mom's a pediatric nurse  at the local hospital and she always made sure I had an excellent  education and lots of extracurriculars. As a child, I never felt like we  needed money.

A couple months ago, Mom married Sam Jones, a doctor at the hospital she  works at. I guess they'd been co-workers for years, and had finally  decided to come clean with the romance.

"Melly, aren't you happy for me?" she asked.

"I am, Mom, I am," I reassured her, my smile genuine and unforced. And I  was happy for her. Years of working night shifts had prematurely aged  my mom, and there were creases and lines around her eyes and mouth that  deepened every year. Plus, she labored so hard that I hoped that the  marriage would give her a sense of security and happiness, lifting her  spirits and letting her enjoy life a little more.

And Dr. Jones (I mean Sam) was nice. He was an older guy, divorced with  two kids of his own around my age. I'd only met Saxon and Stryke once  before, when they were in town visiting. Usually, they lived in  California with their mom so our parents had organized a special dinner  for us to get acquainted before the wedding.

I still remembered it  …  unfortunately. My mom had forced me to wear a  skirt she bought which was way too short. Most moms are trying to make  sure their daughters aren't dressing like whores, but mine's the  opposite. Noreen thinks I need to be more lively, maybe get out more, so  she'd bought this little pink number which would have been cute had it  not ended right below my butt cheeks.

We'd shown up at the restaurant, and I was already self-conscious,  trying to pull my skirt down, the wind drafty and cool between my inner  thighs. God, this was awkward. But my feeling of impending disaster  deepened when I actually met Saxon and Stryke.

They'd stood up with their dad when we arrived, and looked nothing like  their father. Whereas Dr. Jones was average, a nerdy-looking guy, Saxon  and Stryke were twin gods. Charcoal black hair, so dark that it absorbed  light, plus penetrating blue eyes set in masculine faces, their  features rugged and handsome. We'd shaken hands awkwardly, their eyes  deceptively neutral although I'd felt the boys skim my body the moment  we approached the table.

"So Saxon, Stryke," said my mom at lunch. "Where are you guys headed  after graduation?" Evidently, they were seniors as well, at some prep  school in LA.

"We'll probably go to USC or UCLA," rumbled Stryke, his blue eyes clear  and sharp. "We're really into movie-making and both schools have great  film programs."

"Oh right," said my mom, "Didn't George Lucas go to USC?"

"Yep," rumbled Saxon, "as did Ron Howard, Judd Apatow, and a slew of famous directors and producers," he said.

I'd been too shy to add much to the conversation, but in a small voice, I said, "Peter Rainier went to USC."

Both of my soon-to-be brothers turned to look at me.

"I'm sorry, who?" said Saxon smoothly.

It was hard to concentrate, having two pairs of intense blue beams  focused on me, the twins so handsome, large and imposing in their suits.  But I continued.

"Peter Rainier's a movie critic," I said. "I read his reviews in Rolling  Stone all the time, and I think cultural critics really add a lot to  film," I added hesitantly. "I mean, who doesn't check IMDb or Rotten  Tomatoes before buying a movie ticket now?"

I smiled at my brothers as they nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that's true," said Saxon. "Why, are you thinking about being a movie critic?"

"Oh no," I blushed furiously. "I'd love to do something related to  writing, maybe editing or fact-checking, but I'm too low-key to be the  actual star of the show."