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“Mom named us matching twin names, thinking it would be cute—Camille and Cassandra—until Cami and Cassie became too difficult to spit out quickly. Mom wanted to change Cami’s nickname to Millie, and keep me as Cassie, but our dad who left when we were five told her he’d never call his daughter Millie, that it was a horrible name and sounded like a hundred-year-old and not a sweet little girl. And truth be told, Cami doesn’t looklike a Millie anyway. Shortening my name was his idea, but my mom didn’t want Sandy, and they compromised on Sandra, but honestly I’m probably one of the few people on this earth that actually likes their name.”
He curls my loose tendrils around his fingers. “Sandra suits you. And your dad? Do you ever see him?”
I shrug my shoulders, because I hate talking about the man. “He came to my mom’s funeral. He tried to reach out to Cami and me afterward, but we have very little need for him in our life.”
“And your mom, when did she pass away?” His tone is tender, as if he knows from experience the pain of loss.
“Mom passed right before Maggie, Cami’s first child, was born. She named her after our mom, whose name was Margaret. I never saw my mother as a grandma, and that’s honestly a crime. She would’ve been the best grandma and would have spoiled those two girls—worse than I spoil them, and I spoil them rotten—only to send them back to their mom. But our mom suffered with cancer for years, and we both hated seeing her in pain. I’ve always been close to Cam, but losing Mom made us closer.”
“I can’t imagine losing her like that, and so young.”
“Yeah, Mom was fifty-six. So much life left in her,” I say with a sigh, and while it’s painful to share this with most, I find the thought of my mother leaves a smile on my face. Opening up to Dom isn’t painful, or as painful as it’s been in the past.
“I know you don’t have a great relationship with your folks. But I feel like I know very little of your family. Anything you want to share?” I won’t push. He spoke of his struggles with his parents. I know a little about his brother, but everything else remains a mystery.
He falls over on his back and wipes the scruff of his beard. “As you know, my parents aren’t good people. As soon asDaimen made his first major investment, he pulled us from the home. I was eighteen and Daria was seventeen. Daria finished high school, living with Daimen, and he sent us away to college, away from them, and they never really fought for us. I think it was a relief.
“Arden, my brother’s husband, was Daimen’s childhood best friend. Garner, by default, became mine. Those two have amazing parents, and they would take us to their house, and Arden’s parents would care for us, until Mom would find us there a week later and drag us back home. The cycle continued for years, but now, we’ve made the decision to live our lives without them. They weren’t there for us as parents so why would we be there as their children?”
Losing my mom was hard enough, but she was loving and supportive. To grow up in that environment is something I can’t fathom, and I push myself up on my side, gazing down at him.
“Shit, Dom. That’s horrible. Are they still around?”
He nods his head. “Yeah, they attempt to keep in contact with Daimen, because he has money, but he won’t give them a dime. Daria is pretty successful in her career as a writer, and they’ve done the same thing. She won’t give them anything. They hadn’t contacted me because I was the normal person, with a normal paycheck, nothing substantial like my sister and brother. I do well for myself, but not like them. And I’m okay with it. But, after several times of being told no, the assholes reached out to me, demanding I talk to my siblings on their behalf.”
There’s a pain in his voice I’m having a hard time discerning, but it’s deep rooted, as if his upbringing has had a profound impact on the man he is today. At the end of the day, us kids just want the approval of our parents. I know I did with our father, even though he abandoned us.
And I understand the pain that comes with talking about it and decide to change the subject. “So, Daria is an author. What does she write?”
He lets out this mysterious chuckle. “She writes about committed threesomes. Her first book, namedBest Things Come in Threes,is in negotiation with a studio. It’s based on Elliot, Arden, and Daimen’s story. Names have been changed, a little. Ella, Aiden, and Drake. Not sure what full-bred Italian’s name is Drake, but Daria made it work. The books flew off the shelves.”
Wow. I had no idea. “And your brother and his partners are okay with it?”
“They were happy to be the inspiration. Polyamorous relationships are gaining popularity, and it’s a dynamic that should be legalized. It’s a right they deserve, but I’m sure we’re several years away from that, sadly.”
He talks with so much fondness when it comes to his family, as I do. “I get it. I see the struggles of Cami, Dane, and Miles, and they’re as committed as any typical two-person marriage.”
He leans over my still-naked body and twirls his hands over my nipples. “I sometimes forget we have that in common.”
There’s a lull in the conversation, and I turn my head to his.
“What? You’re staring. It’s freaking me out,” I tease and push off him a bit, but his fingers never leave my nipples.
“I’m just watching you. You’re stunning, and honestly, the best thing that has happened to me in a long time.”
I’m not used to men being as open as Dom. It had always been about the next orgasm for them, and never my needs, or hopes, or even dreams.
“Tell me one thing about you no one knows. Not even your sister.”
He must understand the twin bond is strong with us.
“Shit, you’re asking something that is almost impossible, babe.” I think for a long moment, and then I have it. “This is a bit embarrassing. There was a boy Cami was crushing on. And we were always very honest about our crushes with the other. Once we claimed a boy as one of ours, he was that sister’s, and the other one backed off.”
His eye quirks as he moves his fingers to my hair, twirling the long red tendrils. “And one day I was hurrying to class and slipped in some water. He was walking by and tried to keep me upright as he attempted to stay standing too. We both fell down, him on his butt, and me on my side, where my head was in his lap. His very well-endowed lap. The boy sprouted a woody for me the second I landed on him, and it just kept growing. I stayed there, looking into his eyes, plus he was gorgeous—so hot.”
“Hey now,” he teases.
“Not as hot as you, baby.” He smiles with my words and I continue. “He finally said, ‘any girl who causes that head of my body to swell like you have is a keeper. Would you like to go out Friday night?’ I was tempted, though his delivery could have used a little more finesse, and by today’s standards, I think back on it, and it was hella creepy. But, I’d not do that to my sister.”
