Teased by Drew Sinclair - HTML preview

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Chapter Nine

 

When they reached the prone figure in the sand, Melanie had to do a double-take. The man on the ground was a mirror image of the one next to her.

"Who is this?" She said, as Alex rolled the man over and began to check his vital signs.

"He’s my brother, Sebastian -- my twin brother. We've got to do something."

"I know CPR." Melanie said and prepared to put her lips to the man's mouth.

"So do I." Alex said and pushed her back, but Sebastian was already coming round. He coughed and spluttered while his brother anxiously watched him.

"Are you okay, bro?" He said. "God, you had me worried there! I thought you hadn't made it out of this thing alive."

"Melanie, Sebastian, thank God you’re okay!"

"Whoa there, little bro. I'm Alex, you're Sebastian." The brother on the sand looked confused.

"Stop kidding around little bro, it's not funny. Melanie, are you okay?"

How could he also know her so well? Melanie's head was spinning again. Not one, but two completely gorgeous men seemed to be on first name terms with her.

"I'm okay... uh, Sebastian--"

"I'm Alex." He corrected her.

"Now who's kidding around?" The other brother said. "Come on Sebastian, don't confuse Melanie--"

"This isn't funny Sebastian; we just survived a plane crash so just knock it off already!"

The first brother drew back. He looked concerned, afraid.

“Okay." He said. "This is kind of scary. Just tell me bro; exactly who do you think you are?"

"My name, as you well know, is Alex." Storm clouds were gathering on his face. "Now quit it before I get angry."

The hot sun beat down on Melanie's head as she watched the absurd to and fro between the brothers. Her headache returned, pounding the inside of her skull.

For the second time today, everything went black and she was gone.

When she came to, she was cradled in broad strong arms -- four of them.

She looked around her and recognized the palm trees, the golden sand, and the sound of softly lapping waves. She was still there. This was no dream.

Alex (or was it Sebastian?) was looking softly into her eyes with infinite love and concern.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Alex."

"No, he's Sebastian."

"Shut up already!"

"Please just stop! I don't care what your names are. Just tell me what I'm doing here and who you two are. Then you can figure out what to call each other, because what I'm thinking now is Jerk One and Jerk Two."

The men glared at each other and then one of them took the lead.

"Well, I'm not sure exactly where we are but we were lucky to ditch next to this small island, so even though we lost a $60 million aircraft, at least we're alive. We were flying to Tahiti and then we hit the craziest turbulence I've ever seen. Then the plane went down."

"Why was I going to Tahiti?"

"You were going with us, Alex and Sebastian Drummond." The other man interrupted.

"He means Alex," he indicated himself, "and Sebastian," he pointed his twin.

"Jesus Sebastian, can't you see she's confused enough as it is? Leave off with the bad jokes and just introduce yourself already."

"I already did, little brother. How about you come clean and stop joking around?"

Melanie felt nauseous. These were the names that had been in her head all right and for some reason, the name Sebastian didn't sit right with her.

She needed to know which was which, even if she wasn't sure why. She struggled out of the men's arms and backed away up the sand. She looked up and both men were following her with pleading eyes.

"Please, Melanie."

"Melanie, it's okay really."

Was this heaven or hell? She couldn't tell. Both men were gorgeous -- the most gorgeous she had ever seen. They were both in tatters from the wreck but even in rags, together they looked like some crazy ad for Calvin Klein underwear. Both were tanned, chiseled, ripped, tall, beautiful floppy dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, rugged looks, and an intensity about them that promised absolute care and devotion to her.

Her head began to spin and both men came to their knees springing towards her, their strong arms extended to give her support.

"Stay away!" She shouted. As much as she would have loved to be gathered up by either of them, she wouldn't let either of these guys touch her until she had figured out who was who and what was what.

Tahiti? What a ridiculous story! Probably they were both lying and they were on some small private beach somewhere in California.

"Please." They begged.

"Melanie, you have to believe us, we just want to take care of you. That's all."

"That's right, Melanie. Look, we don't know each other that long but you have to trust me..."

"Stop right there." She said firmly. "First off, I need to know who is who."

"I'm Alex." One of them shouted, still on his knees his chest heaving with anxious desire.

"No he's not, for God's sake Melanie, I don't know what game he's playing, but this is my brother Sebastian." He put one big hand to his brother's chest and pushed him back.

"Get your hands off me, little bro." The other one said.

"I'm not your little bro, little bro." He pushed him back harder, but this time his twin wasn't willing to accept the indignity, grabbed his brother’s arms, and pulled him to the ground. They began to wrestle in the sand before her, taut, bronzed muscles glinting in the tropical sun as they struggled with each other.

Melanie was mesmerized. She didn't know whether to cry or thank the Mother Goddess for taking her to Paradise Island. The truth was she could have watched them all day and to her surprise she could feel a rising heat in her loins, spreading out into her thighs. This was something she had never done before, never even imagined: a ringside seat at a sweaty wrestling match between two Greek gods on a tropical desert island, fighting over her!

Her mouth dropped open as she watched them strain their muscles against one another. She had to stop it.

"That's enough." She said, but they ignored her. By now, one of them had gotten on top and was pushing his brother's hands into the sand. She stood over them but they paid no attention to her. The one on top was slowly, inexorably pushing the others arms down.

"Don't even try, little bro. You know I've always been able to take you down. Don't make me hurt you."

The brother underneath flashed an angry gaze at Melanie, obviously stung and humiliated to be bested in front of her. Her heart flashed with desire. Although both were beautiful, she felt for the defeated one. She had to help him. She put her flimsy arms to the powerful fists of the dominant brother and uselessly tried to force them back.

The defeated brother shouted. "No Melanie, don't! I need to do this myself." But he couldn't and he was losing. Inevitably, his arms grew weaker, and his brother grinned above him.

"I don't want to do this little bro, you know I don't. But at least Melanie now knows which one of us is the stronger one. Just say the word and I'll let you go like I always do."

The bested brother continued struggling and his desperation was pitiful to watch, but also powerfully arousing to his one-woman audience. He was struggling for her and for her alone, pitting all his manhood and risking his pride against his brother to prove himself to her. She felt guilty as she became wet watching the spectacle. Every inch that his strong arms sank to the ground, she felt a wave of pleasure rise. This man, whomever he was, wanted her more than anything else in the world and was willing to risk humiliation to prove it.

"Stop." She said softly -- too softly to make a difference. She waited. Melanie had the crazy feeling that when his arms reached the ground she was going to… No. Ridiculous, impossible. Yet she felt ripe for it, primed, as though she had climaxed recently. However, that was ridiculous too. She knew it had been months since she was able to find the release of orgasm. Her clit had begun to forget what pleasure and ecstasy felt like.

She watched the arms go lower and drank in the vision. The humiliated brother and the dominant one, the victor, defeating his own sibling for her, the savage glint in his eye as he fought in order to claim her. What would he do once the battle was won? Claim the spoils of victory? Was that what she was? A prize at a wrestling match?

"Melanie!" The losing brother called out.

She stared at him but didn't respond, unmoving.

"Melanie, what's wrong with you? Listen to me."

His hands sank lower, his desperation became more intense.

Melanie stood and stared.