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“My son’s a swimmer,” she said, beaming proudly. “He’ll be competing in the fifty-fly and one-hundred IM at next year’s Olympics. We’re so excited! You’re welcome to come support him of course, because it’s going to be a lot of fun,” she chattered. “He’s my pride and joy, and my only child.”
Wow, this was the big time. I don’t really follow sports but swimming in the Olympics is huge. In fact, the Summer Olympics are practically organized around swimming. It’s a headline event, especially after Michael Phelps broke a couple records all those years ago. So I nodded appreciatively and asked, “Is your son a medal contender?”
Maybe it wasn’t an appropriate question because what mother would want to say, “No, my son is just there for kicks. We don’t expect him to win anything.” But Paula surprised me again.
“Yes, he is!” she chirped brightly again. “My Mason is the gold medal favorite in his two events. Oh, here he is now,” she cried out, gesturing to someone in back of me. “Come on Mason, meet your new dad and sister,” she said happily while beaming with excitement.
I turned on my heel, expecting to see a random stranger. But then I came to a dead halt as my heart thrummed in my chest. Could it be? Furiously, my mind spun, trying to review the night of the Blue Light Special. The man I’d been with? He’d been tall, even sitting down. Check. The man had had dark hair, at least from what I could tell in the dim light of the club. Check. The man had deep blue eyes, a cleft in his chin, and a mobile, expressive mouth that had kissed me all over. Check, check, and check again.
As my dad made the introductions, I looked deep into my new stepbrother’s eyes and saw that he was just as startled, his nostrils flaring and his body tense because he recognized me as the wanton stripper who’d made him come just last night. What are the chances that we’d meet again? And under these circumstances, too?
9
Mason
Holy shit! What the fuck was happening? My dick got hard just looking at the dancer again. It was definitely her, with the same sweet smile, innocent expression, and lush curves. What was her name again? I swear, she’d told me “Star” although her voice could barely be heard over the din of the crowd last night.
Yet Star was amazing, even clothed. The dress clung to her curves lovingly, her decolletage creamy and delightful. And holy cow but her legs were long. They went on for miles and miles before ending in a pair of four-inch stripper heels.
That brought me up short. Stripper heels. That’s right, only strippers wear stripper heels and my soon-to-be stepsister was a dancer whom I’d been naughty with last night. It didn’t matter how good she looked because I’d slept with my sister!
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. What do we do?
I smiled somewhat stiffly.
“Frank,” I said, greeting the man at my mom’s side. “I see you’re going to make an honest woman out of Paula.”
The older man shook my hand with his bear paw. I have big hands as a swimmer, but this guy’s were roughened from hard work at the construction site.
“Good to meet you, son,” he said with a wink. “I think I can take care of Paula here. And please, let me introduce my daughter Janie,” he said, nodding at the blonde.
Unfortunately, Janie was staring at me like she’d never seen a man before.
“Janie, is something wrong, honey?” asked Frank, his voice concerned. “You look a little faint. Are you okay?”
That spurred his daughter into action. She jerked and then blinked before tearing her blue eyes away from me.
“Yeah Dad, I’m fine,” she tossed off carelessly, flinging those blonde curls over her shoulder. Oh God, I could feel that hair brushing against my neck again. Fuck, everything she did reminded me of last night. But then those baby blues turned my way.
“I was just stunned to meet an Olympic swimmer,” she said sweetly. “It’s not every day you meet someone who’s on a box of Wheaties.”
Oh right. She was referring to my endorsement deal with General Mills.
“Yes, they snapped a good pic,” I said casually.
“With your speedos on, if I remember correctly,” Janie added slyly.
Oh fuck, why did she have to bring that up? But the ad men at the agency had insisted. Seeing me in my swimsuit, they’d argued, was the best way for consumers to see my fit physique. It’d make them buy the cereal or some such nonsense.
“Anyways, I’d recognize that smile anywhere,” Janie cooed. “Anywhere,” she said again emphatically with a hard look at me. Believe it or not, my body grew even more aroused at her sassy ways. But before I could say my part, Paula interrupted.
