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I stare at Shane, surprised to learn that he and Stanton have their own complicated history. “You mean you guys went through some of the same crap I’ve been through?”
I look around the room, trying to imagine what in the world could have gone wrong for these wealthy, handsome brothers. On the surface, they are smart, attractive, and obviously well-stationed in life.
“Not everyone wears their life stories on their sleeves,” Stanton growls, as if reading my mind. “Shane and I went through our own shit as kids, and it inspired us to help others with their problems. That’s why we established the Lazy R as a haven for young women.”
I bite my lower lip, unsure what to say. Fortunately, the brothers continue, and I listen attentively.
“Our parents divorced when we were about twelve years old,” Stanton continues calmly, his voice quiet. “It was bad – the divorce was fucking messy, and unfortunately, very public as well. There were all kinds of stories in the newspapers that we didn’t understand and it gave other kids ammunition to pick on us. Let’s just say that Shane and I started to lash out. Playground fights became violent and dangerous, involving real weapons on occasion.”
Stanton looks at his plate, his gaze far away. His brother picks up the saga.
“We were quickly becoming unbearable pre-teens. Especially this guy,” Shane remarks, indicating his brother. “So our parents sent us to live here at the Lazy R. Our grandparents were still running it at the time and while they had tons of hired help, they realized that we needed discipline, distraction, and escape from our previous lives.” Shane shakes his head at some far away memory. “As a result, this place became home. We found peace in working the land, safety with our grandparents, and a newfound eagerness to help others like we’d been helped.”
I look at each handsome brother in turn, surprised by their candor and the revelations about their past.
“I know you didn’t have to tell me all of that,” I say softly, hoping they can read the gratitude in my voice. “But I appreciate it.”
Stanton sits back, his form massive in the small chair.
“You know, I think you’re the first person we’ve ever really talked with about our past. Or at least, shared the details with,” he remarks with a wry grin. “You get under our skin, Juniper.”
I shiver at this compliment, so happy to be in their inner circle. After all, I feel a similar sense of intimacy too. I’ve trusted few people in my life, but Shane and Stanton Regan are two men I know I can rely upon. With that, I lean back in my chair, feeling truly happy and blessed.
“What’s with that smile?” Shane asks me with raised eyebrows. “Sweetheart, I know your brain is cooking up something.”
I laugh loudly. “No, it’s not, I swear!” I retort and immediately blush.
“Your expression gives it away,” Stanton groans, shaking his head in mock agony.
“And that blush means she was thinking about something she shouldn’t be,” Shane informs his brother. The two men look at me hungrily all of a sudden, and my inner parts go moist.
“Fine, fine,” I concede. “I was just wondering about what it’s like to date, living so far out in the wild like this.”
The brothers exchange an amused look. Finally, Shane answers.
“If you’re asking if we normally form relationships with our wards, the answer is absolutely not. Our girls are off limits generally.”
I shake my head, already getting the sense that the two men are beyond honorable when it comes to separating their management of the reform school from their personal lives.
“No, I mean, outside of your life here. Have you ever been serious about anyone?” I try to keep my face from flushing and take a quick gulp of icy cool water to distract myself.
The brothers exchange a look.
“We’ve each dated here and there,” Stanton clarifies, “but Shane and I were waiting for the right woman to come along.”
I feel my pulse pick up as I wonder if I might be the right woman. But that’s preposterous. I’m just an eighteen year old troubled teen, and I’m their student for crying out loud! I’ll be leaving the Lazy R after my time is done, and then, who knows what will happen?
But I push those thoughts out of my mind. Right now, I’m here with Shane and Stanton and I’m not going to lose another minute. With my pasta devoured, I giggle wickedly.
“What is it, honey?” Stanton asks in a low voice, his blue eyes gleaming. “I know you have something up your sleeve.”
“Oh, not up my sleeve,” comes my melodic trill. “Up my skirt is more like it.”
After all, I’m quite a good seamstress, and I’ve removed the crotch from several pairs of my lacy panties. With a flick of my wrist, my skirt flies up and I pull my knees high so that my feet are balanced on the chair seat. Sure enough, my pink pussy comes into view, the folds already glistening and swollen.
