Huge Players – Huge Series Read online Stephanie Brother

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Huge Players - Huge Series

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Stephanie Brother

Language:
English
Book Information:

My five stepbrothers love playing games...and I'm their favorite toy.
When I fly cross country, I’m expecting my dad to be at the airport to collect me. Instead, I’m faced with five huge stepbrothers who’ve tripled in size since I last saw them. Jameson, Jessie, and Joshua are triplets with wicked green eyes and bodies made for games. Their younger twin brothers, Kyle and Kameron, are even bigger with piercing blue eyes and thighs so thick I practically swoon.
They’re sexy as sin, but still the same assholes they were when we were kids. All they care about is football and making my life a misery with their practical jokes and snide comments.
Then my friend Sara tells me I need to turn the tables. She encourages me to use my feminine powers to distract them from their games. She tells me the rumors she’s heard about them, huge things I really don’t want to know but keep me awake at night, aching.
I’m not convinced until I give it a try and see the filthy gleam in their eyes. It’s definitely not the way they should be looking at their stepsister!
Then I overhear Kyle and Kameron talking. They have a secret that is about to turn this game upside down, but I’m playing to win, whatever the cost.
Books by Author:

Stephanie Brother



PROLOGUE

“It’s time for you to go back,” Mom says as we gaze at the college acceptance letter that has just arrived in the mail. The fact that it’s the only one I’ve received has blown my world into pieces.

“You say that like it’ll be so easy.” I toss the letter onto the table, and Mom picks it up, rereading it as if we might have made a mistake. There’s no mistake.

I only applied to Eastern as an absolute back up, fully expecting to get into at least one of my other preferred choices. It seems that my grades just weren’t quite enough. Psychology is a competitive subject.

“Your dad will be glad to have you live with him for a while,” Mom says.

“You think?” My voice is filled with the disbelief that comes from seven years of no visits. Ever since Mom’s job brought us to the West Coast, my relationship with my dad has been reduced to sporadic phone calls and gifts for the holidays. Mom has always told me not to take it personally, but I don’t know how else to take it. I guess his life just got busy when he remarried. My stepmom, Janice, has five sons, and Dad slipped into the role of father to boys easily. He always wanted a son. Now he has a handful.

“Of course.” Mom rests her hand on my shoulder. I know part of her feels guilty for moving so far away, but it was a financial necessity, and I don’t blame her at all. I’ve had a great time growing up here, and moving on is going to be tough.

“Can you call him?” I say. “I don’t want to have to ask if he has space for me to stay. If he says no, I think I’ll just get angry.”

“Sure,” she says. “I’ll do it now.”

“I’m going to my room,” I say, “to lie down.”

Mom’s already dialing dad, but she tugs me into a quick hug, and I bury my face in her neck, breathing in her familiar floral scent. It’s only when I hear Dad’s voice answering that I pull away. I don’t want to be in the same room while she’s having this conversation.

I flop down onto my bed, gazing up at the cracked ceiling. I love our old house, but it really is starting to need some serious renovation. Since my parents’ divorce, Mom has never really had the money to do much more than patch things up. Dad, by contrast, has an amazing house with seven bedrooms.

Seven.

Who the hell has seven bedrooms?

The man with five stepsons and one absent daughter, I guess.

It looks like the room that has sat empty for years will be filled soon, though.

I wonder what my spoiled-brat stepbrothers will think of that?

1

“Oh my God,” Sara hisses under her breath. “Have you seen the wall of man over there?”

I don’t turn because my suitcases are approaching on the conveyor and they’re so heavy that I really need to concentrate on lifting them off before they go whizzing past.

Sara was sitting next to me on the flight, and she’s going to Eastern too. What are the chances? She made me laugh so much that I snorted tomato juice at one point. Not the most attractive thing that I’ve ever done in my life.

“Wall of man. Sounds like fun.” I grunt as I heft one suitcase, losing control of it and bashing my toes. I curse as it flops to the ground, and the other even-larger case passes me in a flash. I start to dash after it, and I’m not looking where I’m going at all, so when I bump into the back of a huge man, I’m sent reeling in shock with half the wind knocked from my lungs.

“Sorry,” I gasp, steadying myself on my feet, my hand reaching up to make sure my nose isn’t broken. Hell, this is nothing like I thought my arrival back in my home city would be.

The man grabs the handle of my moving suitcase and lifts it like it contains nothing but feathers. I hate him for his inhuman strength, and there is no way I’m letting Mr. Muscle run off with half my worldly possessions. “Hey!” I shout. “That bag’s mine.”

Mr. Muscle’s eyebrow raises as I reach for the handle that is still clasped in his ridiculously big hand. I swear if he wrapped those fingers around a bowling ball, he’d be able to crush it.

“I know,” he says slowly, as though I need help with the comprehension of simple things.

“So why the fuck are you running off with it?” I say, still trying to prise it from his iron fist with absolutely no success.

“Do you see me running?”

My eyes trail over at least six-foot-six of the biggest man I think I’ve ever seen, finally reaching his face. With shorn hair and a beard, he looks like an extra from Sons of Anarchy. His expression is impassive, his brows slightly raised. There’s a sparkle in his stunning green eyes, though. A sparkle that tells me that I’m amusing him. This pisses me off even more.

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