Page 72 of The Naughty Virgin

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Caden

Life has been a series of ups and downs. Of course, the time we spend with our sister is an obvious up. Karina’s been wilder than our wildest expectations, a real hellcat between the sheets, servicing us both, watching with hunger and lust as my brother and I fuck her and each other.

She’s also learning the ins and outs of pole dancing, something that turns us on, makes us hunger and beg for her lithe, curvaceous body, to kneel before her in obeisance just to lap that wet cunt or grasp a perky nipple, pulling it tight and making her moan and squeal.

“Oh!” she screamed last night as we drilled her, my dick in her ass, my brother’s cock in her mouth. “More!” she choked as she played with her clit before bursting into a thousand flames.

Because it’s a depraved world we live in but Karina seems to accept it, to fit right in with our little backstory. And it’s a lot to absorb, I admit. I mean, how many twins really fuck each other and their stepsister? How many billionaires lead secret lives straight out of the raunchiest, lustiest skin mags?

But discretion is important. No one knows what goes on in our apartment and we like to keep it that way. Just the other day Karina asked, “Cade, does your family suspect? I mean, what about Matt and Jake and your dad? Do they have any inkling about what you and Caleb have been doing?”

I paused. The thing is that Caleb and I were separated for a long time, him in Wyoming with our mom and me in San Francisco with our dad. I took my time answering.

“Well little sis,” I drawled, “I don’t think anyone knows. I mean our parents got divorced because they didn’t get along, not because they suspected Caleb and I needed to be separated. And we’ve been pretty good about keeping things a secret. Obviously, everything we do goes on behind closed doors and we don’t generally bring girls into our … escapades, if you will.”

That made Karina laugh. “Escapades?” she asked with an arched eyebrow. “Is that what you call it?” she said sweetly.

“Yeah, escapades,” I grunted, circling her waist and drawing her near, stroking the curve of her waist. “I’d say this is Escapade 101.”

She laughed again, kissing me lightly and purposefully rubbing her breasts against my chest before pulling away to pick up her backpack.

“You’re so hilarious Cade,” she chimed. “I want to talk about this with you some more, but right now I gotta get to class. See you tonight?” she asked, turning to shoot me a dazzling smile from the door.

“Absolutely,” I grunted. And she was gone, her long auburn hair a whirl, that sensuous figure disappearing in a flash.

The fact was that Caleb and I had talked about our set-up. We were in paradise at the moment, living together with our step, to the outside world just three siblings sharing an apartment as we attended university. But we weren’t sure how much longer it could go on.

Unbeknownst to Karina, the Chancellor had asked Caleb and I to drop by. I’d figured it was for some bullshit reason having to do with money. NYU needs to constantly fundraise and Caleb and I, as billionaires, are not only donors but also key thought leaders, the university hoping to tap our network of high net worth individuals.

We’d shown up at the Chancellor’s office, casual in jeans, our backpacks slung over our shoulders. Oddly, we’d been directed into an inner sanctum, the Chancellor waiting for us with only a trusted aide, both serious and professional.

“Hey Chancellor,” tossed out Caleb. “What’s up? Looking forward to discussing the latest fundraising initiative.”

The Chancellor nodded but didn’t reply, gesturing for us to take a seat first.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I hate to be having this discussion with you, but were you at a DUP party a couple Saturdays ago?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “What of it? We already talked to the cops, lawyers present of course, we denied everything because there was nothing to know.” I shrugged. “I heard there was some crazy girl inventing stories, but she was on drugs, it was all a figment of her imagination.”

The Chancellor’s somber expression remained. “Unfortunately, that crazy girl spoke with a reporter at Rolling Stone and we’ve just gotten advance notice that an exposé is scheduled to appear in the magazine next week.”

“No way,” said my brother slowly. “We’d heard she’d spoken with the press but figured it was harmless. I mean, any respectable publication that does any sort of fact-checking would immediately realize that the story was fabricated.”

The Chancellor nodded his head again.

“That’s what the university thought as well,” he said slowly, “but rape victims are shielded by the press. Generally publications never identify the victim, so it’s almost impossible to do any fact-checking. We’re expecting the worst,” he concluded. “We’re expecting for a bomb to go off, for NYU to be named as a sexist, racist university, one that doesn’t fully investigate claims of sexual abuse.”

“What? Racist too?” I said disbelievingly. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“That’s how these things work,” said the Chancellor with a heavy sigh. “The paper will seize on anything to poke holes in the University’s armor. They’ll invent things based on the slimmest justification, just to pump more juice into their story.”

I shook my head in disbelief. School was turning out to be just as challenging as work. I mean Sterling Pharmaceutical was a bitch to run, but we hadn’t had a claim as wacky as this yet.

“Chancellor,” said my brother slowly. “What is it that you want us to do? How can we help?”

“At this point, nothing,” he replied. “I just wanted to give you a heads up because you were at that party. It’s almost inevitable that you’ll be mentioned in the papers, that the Sterling name will be brought up.”

“You mean dragged through the mud,” I said grimly. “They’re going to work this exposé for everything it’s worth, including bringing down our family company.”

The old man shrugged heavily. “I’m so sorry Caden, Caleb,” he said. “Your enrollment at NYU was a boon to the university, helping us elevate our profile. But with every gift comes an edge of danger, and now it looks like Rolling Stone is going to push that boundary.”

“Fuck,” I swore, not so quietly, looking down at the table. Anonymity was important to my brother and I for obvious reasons. We would never be the average guy walking down the street, but we weren’t nobody either.

“I guess there’s only one thing to do then and that’s to see what the article says,” drawled Caleb.

And we took our leave, strolling back to the apartment, the day sunny and bright but with ominous clouds on the horizon.

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