tagRomanceAn Unlikely Match

An Unlikely Match


Boring Author's Note:

I hate deciding what section to put my stories in, then spending time chewing my non-existent fingernails when I could be wearing out my keys working on more stories, so if you think this belongs in Novellas I apologize in advance. To what I have found most publishers set the limit for Novellas at 20,000 to 80,000 words, and anything above that is considered a novel or some other category. I even looked at the submission guidelines to check on Literoticas' writer's guidelines and didn't find a mention of what they consider each. And since this is only listed by Microsoft Word 10 as being 12,589 words, I am sticking it in Romance.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Have a good day




Day One:

"Little sister, you need to get laid." Fleur Mantell looked at her sister Brie in the mirror as she finished applying her makeup and fixing her hair. "You've been eighteen for six months and not once have I come home to find a man in your bed. "Or a woman either for that matter; how are you supposed to find your sexual identity if you don't even try?"

Brie shook her head at her sister's lack of understanding. "And when do I have time to even go looking for either? I work at the bookstore from eight in the morning until two in the afternoon three days out of the week, and until noon two days out of the week. From three to seven I have two classes, and on the other two I have classes from two until ten. On the weekend I have to study for my classes and get my homework done. So tell me oh all-knowing older sister of mine, when do I have time? You on the other hand have your job from eight to four, you come home, change clothes and then you're out the door. On weekends, you spend about two hours cleaning this place up then you spend the evenings with your friends either out clubbing or going off doing whatever you feel like doing. I think you've forgotten how hard college can be. I'll have time for all that other stuff when I can be like you and play as hard as I work."

Brie didn't add that it wouldn't matter anyway. When she was out in the world, she never met anyone who showed the least bit of interest in her anyway. Oh she had attracted a couple guys but it died as soon as they met her smart, beautiful and well-built older sister. It had been the same way back home for as long as she could remember. None of the guys she had known there had been interested in her beyond a way to meet her sisters Lila and Helena. What women she met wanted to meet her brothers Andre and Marcel.

Why her parents had given all their kids French names was beyond her, not one of them had French blood in them, at least not as far as her grandfather had found in his time of doing genealogy research for the last ten years. The only off blood he had found was on her mother's side and that was some Gypsy blood by the name of Esmeralda Delacourt. She had married an related Englishman about three hundred years ago, and the only information in the church records her grandfather had found was a marriage record listing Esmeralda as being Gypsy. A combination of English, Scottish, German yes, but not a damn drop of French. Personally Brie was pretty sure there was some Nordic blood in them as well because she, like her dad were built and looked more like pictures of ancient Vikings then they did the other races. They both shared the almost white blonde hair, the bright blue eyes and fuller bodies; yes definitely more Viking then the Nordic gods and goddesses running around these days.

So who the hell was her sister kidding, her getting laid was about as likely as the earth going nova and crashing into the sun. Leaving Fleur to get dressed to go out, she went to her room, stopping on the way in the kitchen for her usual bowl of salad and a diet soda. She lived on salad and diet soda. Not only because it was cheap but because she had learned that if she had a whole pizza or a box of deep fried chicken anywhere when she was alone, she ate the whole damn thing. Then she would end up spending the rest of the night feeling like hell and throwing up all she ate. Salad and the soda was all her mind would let her keep down no matter how she tried.

Forcing herself to study, she didn't hear when Fleur left and finally near one in the morning, she gave up to sleep not coming as close to what she had planned to get done at all.

As usual her dreams were of what she couldn't have. Men who wanted her not her sisters, over and over they danced through her dreams, and when she woke, she felt like she hadn't slept at all. It didn't help that she had some kind of weight over her mid-section and another on her leg. There was also a warm breeze blowing on her cheek and she had no idea where the hell it was coming from. Trying to sit up the weight on her body tightened and she turned her face just enough to see dark hair, a face with overnight stubble on his chin and a thin moustache that bent down on both sides of interesting lips. Who was the fucking jerk in her bed? Even as she moved out from under his arm she had an idea and she was going to kill her sister if Fleur had done what she thought she had.

She found her sister in her bed with two guys and as she shook her sister's foot one of them opened his eyes and looked at her sleepily. "Is that you or are we on a boat?" Being a student of languages and lit, she recognized the upper class British accent.

Choosing to ignore the man, she simply spoke and continued her attempt to wake up her sister. "Me, wake up Fleur, I need to talk to you."

"Come on; leave her alone, she's had quite a work out."

Brie glared at the guy. "I don't give a fuck okay, I don't like waking up and finding men in my bed. Especially men I don't know or didn't invite there. As for you, go back to sleep, you smell like a brewery and look like you spent the last week in a dumpster." She shook her sister's foot again and Fleur began to kick. "Come on sis, I know you're awake, you don't kick unless you're coming to."

Fleur rolled on her back revealing her pert breasts, and ran a hand over her face. "Oh come on Brie, leave me alone, we had a late night."

"Yeah, I can tell, except you've got one missing, and he's in my bed instead of yours. So at least tell me his name so I can wake him up and get him where he belongs,"

Her sister began to giggle, "But he is where he belongs sis, I brought him home for you. He likes fuller figure women, he told me so."

"Well that's just further proof of how drunk you were last night, men who say that are either freaks, or lying out their asses to get close to women like you who admit they have sisters like me. Since he doesn't look like a freak, then I'm guessing he's out to get where your buddies are and will use me to do it. No thanks; I learned that lesson a long time ago. So don't do it again." She turned on her heel and walked back to her bedroom.

Knowing what was going on, she didn't bother to be nice. "Hey fucker, get the hell out of my bed, this isn't a short cut to Fleur's bed." At least the ass was wearing clothes. She had to admit he did seem to be nice looking and from the look of his silk shirt and expensive jeans he had a nice body was well, but guys who could afford clothes like his were definitely not into the fuller figures of women like hers. She was even more sure when she spotted his boots, and the jacket hanging on the back of her desk chair. That was a high end label and so was the model of his boots. She knew because her uncle wore them and these weren't the knock offs that she saw at Target or Wal-Mart.

It took her over a half hour to get some kind of response from him and for a while she had worried that he had died from too much booze. No, just way too drunk to get the message that someone was shaking him and trying to get him to come back to reality. When he rolled onto his back, she saw that he was indeed as good looking as any man she had ever met, and when he opened his eyes, she felt like she was looking into eyes as dark as a moonless night and was in danger of falling away into space. His smile was killer.

"Oh, so we meet at last virgin ice queen, your sister said you were a knock out, but I wasn't sure I believed her." Again that accent, she knew her sister was an Anglophile, but where in hell had she met these guys?

He was as full of shit as she thought he was. "Sure, well you've met me; now get up and out of my bed okay?"

His smile reached his eyes, "Oh come on ice queen, don't be so cold. At least let me wake up a little and have a cigarette. I drank too much waiting for your sister and the twins to decide it was time to leave, something about her wanting me to be a surprise for you. I don't suppose you have any coffee do you?"

Despite her indignation, she had to admit he had balls. "There's a Starbucks down the street, I don't drink coffee and Fleur likes tea."

As he sat up, he looked around and shook his head at all the soda bottles. "Gods, you actually drink diet soda, do you know how bad that stuff is for you? There are tests...I can show you documented research..."

She interuppted him before he started to sound like her father or one of the professors at the college she attended. "Hey, do I walk into your house and insult your tastes in food and drink? Don't do it in mine, besides if I drink anything but it or water I end up vomiting." She didn't know why she had told him that, it wasn't what she normally acted like.

Before he could respond, one of the guys came in the open door and presented them with two cups of Starbucks coffee, as well as packets of cream and sugar. "Fleur said she needed a chai this morning so I volunteered, straight but it is still Starbucks."

The guy on her bed thanked him and took a long drink before looking at her. "Well, or were you serious that anything but that dietary disaster and water will make you vomit...?"

"I wasn't lying," she resented the implication that she had been. To prove her point she took a small drink, swallowed and waited. It wasn't long before she was reaching for the wastebasket and throwing up not only the coffee but the remains of her dinner and the soda she had drank the night before. To make it worse the dry heaves after wards were empty but she couldn't stop until she forced herself to. "Proof enough?"

"Bloody hell," he looked in the wastebasket. "You haven't eaten much lately have you? That looks like nothing but wilted lettuce and a few veggies...not even any kind of salad dressing."

"What are you some, kind of food researcher? And you're right, a veggie salad with no dressing." She wiped her face and reached for the bottle of water off her nightstand. "My shrink says I have some kind of mental block against anything that contains any kind of calories. Not that it helps me lose any kind of weight or even make me unhealthy. I haven't lost or gained a pound since I turned sixteen; two years ago." She had actually stayed a size sixteen since she was fourteen and it showed no sign of changing in the near future.

"What about your energy levels, memory, no loss in either of those?" He was sounding more like a researcher than he had before.

"No, seriously what do you do? You sound like my doctor."

He smiled again. "Actually I am a Doctor of Logical Research. All things interest me, but I've never met anyone who interested me more than you do. Of course, I was already interested when your sister showed me a picture of you at the club last night. Do you still have that black leather skirt and those boots? They made your legs look extremely hot."

That was a switch, most guys who saw that picture automatically asked Fleur if the boobs were real, not about her legs. Well considering she had poured a size sixteen bust into a size ten stretch top that night and had been barely able to breathe she halfway understood. "I've still got them but not the top; it was six sizes too small."

"Oh, well I never got beyond the legs, I'm not a breast man, too many of them are more silicone then nature these days, you can't fake legs very well. Not that yours look anywhere near fake, but you can't really tell for sure unless you're touching and..." he stopped and this time it was his turn to look uncomfortable. "Sorry, usually I don't ramble so much but now that the alcohol is pretty much out of my system, I'm feeling a little less bold. I do that when I feel a strong attraction to someone, I turn into this bumbling fool, the typical nerd scientist."

"Who wears high end clothes, goes to high end clubs and gets drunk waiting to go meet someone he has never met before?"

He nodded, "Yeah, which describes me to a tee. My parents call me their problem child, I'd rather do research then make them grandparents. Half my life I've been to subjected to more single women who don't interest me but fit my parents idea of a perfect wife and mother then most men get in a lifetime."

"Why do you let them?"

"Because I understand why they do it, and I know it's done with love. So I am polite, maybe ask the lady out for dinner or drinks, then tell her flat out I am not interested in her and that's that. I've got three other brothers that would work just as well as I would."

"Oh yeah, younger or older," Brie wondered if there were actually three more like him at home.

"Both, in truth you've seen one of them, or maybe both, I don't know if Edward came along with us or not, I was extremely drunk."

It was a short hop to figuring out who he was talking about, "the guy with the coffee?"

"Well, he's the younger one, Robert. I understood they know your sister very well when they talked me into going to that club with them."

Brie had to laugh, "well considering Fleur was in bed with two guys when I went to wake her up and find out who you were, it's possible then the other one is here too."

"It has to be Edward then; Robert doesn't do three ways except with Edward. They're twins you see, been like that since birth, always do everything together." Unexpectedly, he reached out and ran a finger down the side of her face. "Can I kiss you? I've been sitting here staring at your mouth the whole time we've been talking and I really can't hold out much longer to see if it tastes as good as it looks."


"Why what, why do I want to kiss you, truthfully I have no idea at all, normally I'm not one to do a lot of kissing but I just have this overwhelming urge..."

He had been moving closer the whole time he was talking and Brie was caught off guard as he pushed her back on the bed, pinned with his body and began to kiss her unlike anything she had ever dreamed a kiss would be. Nothing she had read or seen on the movies had prepared her for this as a first kiss and all she could do was lay back and let him do it. It was made even more astounding by the fact she liked how he kissed and how his arms were around her and he was coaxing her somehow to wrap her arms around him.

When she did, he deepened the kiss and it turned to something indescribable. The hand not attached to the arm he had around her neck was moving over her in a slow searching manner and hers was mimicking his movements with a life of its own. She felt him moan against her mouth and press his body tighter to hers and she moved to make it more comfortable for both of them. What the hell was he doing to her and worse yet, why was she allowing it? This was her body on her bed in her room and she was letting a complete stranger touch and kiss her like no one had ever done either before. She didn't even know his name, but oh gods, she didn't care as he continued on.

It was his brother who interrupted them and he didn't seem to be aware that neither of them had any desire to be interrupted. "Michael, Edward, Fleur and I are going out for breakfast. Do you want to come along?"

He raised his mouth from hers long enough to answer the question. "No I don't want to go to bloody breakfast, now shut the bloody door and leave us the hell alone."

He didn't give her time to escape him and as she sank into the feelings of his kisses again, she couldn't resist saying his name. "Michael?"

"Michael James Livingstone Ice queen, now give me your mouth and let's go back to what we were both enjoying so very much before my bloody brother had to spoil it. And you are no ice queen love, if anything, the way you set a man's blood on fire, they should call you anything but the ice queen."

His voice carried no falsehoods and Brie let him take command of her senses again. He was right, she had been enjoying it, and she liked it even more as he took her back to that frame of mind where all she felt was his body and his kisses. God, he was perfect, he felt good, smelled good and tasted even better. He didn't maul or grab or at her, in truth his hands touched her as if she was a fragile piece of glass and was frightened if he touched her too hard she might break.

When he did finally pull back he touched her face and looked at her with regret. "God fire queen, I have to do something I have no desire to do. I need to stop for a while."

She watched him sit up and moved to the same position. "Can I ask what happened?"

"You, you happened, you set my blood on fire. I've never in my life been so hungry for a woman. Oh don't think I've never been with a woman, but not one that made me fight to keep myself control. Most of my encounters have been just that, encounters. Nothing beyond a quick roll in bed then went our separate ways. I liked it that way. Even when Fleur told me you were a virgin, I had my doubts, I mean these days, and you being over eighteen, it just didn't seem possible to me."

Brie understood his reasoning and despite her inner doubts, she felt as if he was a man she could trust and confide in. "Michael is there a way to tell if you are a virgin or not?" The question escaped before she could stop it. "I mean what if you were drugged or something, how could you tell if you had been raped or not?"

As he looked at her in shock, she found herself thinking of Greg, the person who had been her friend all her life. How that day when they had been sitting under the bleachers, drinking soda and eating pizza. He had been her friend; she had no way of knowing what he had been intending to do. As she tried to remember for the millionth time what had eluded her for two years, she felt that same urge to vomit. All she could ever remember was waking up and being under those bleachers in the dark, her shirt and jeans stripped away, and her body covered in all kinds of food. Food that had been smeared into her body and beside her, her cell phone, with a video recorded on it.

As he stood up she thought he was leaving her but instead; he held out a hand and looked back at her. "Hold that thought luv, which way to the bathroom?"

When he came back he picked up her cup of coffee and took a long drink before looking at her then sitting back on the bed with her. "Now tell me exactly why you asked me such a question? Was it hypothetical or are you hiding something that no one else knows Brie?" He was looking at her closely and she saw the concern in his eyes as he drew her close and held her tight. "Tell me who hurt you so badly Brie...you can trust me."

She told him the story of the day and of the video on her phone. When he asked if she still had it, she directed him to her computer, and the file she kept it under. In the past two years, she had watched it enough to have memorized it and still didn't know if it was a dream or a bad joke. Somehow Greg had suspended the phone and it showed him smearing her with the food and then moving on top of her. When it was over, he looked laughingly in the camera and told her words that haunted her still, and she began to vomit even as she heard Michael cursing and turning off the computer.

"Where is he Fire Queen, at least tell me he went to jail for that?" There was hardness in his voice that didn't fit him somehow.

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bydarkstone57© 13 comments/ 24761 views/ 41 favorites

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