HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance

by Stephanie Brother

  The rest of dinner drags by. I try to take part in the conversation, hoping that no one senses my mood. When dinner is over, mom, Jeff, and Cory decline dessert and coffee, so I follow suit. Everyone is busy the next day so no one wants a late night. While Jeff sorts out the check, I walk arm in arm with my mom to the front of the restaurant.

  She glances over her shoulder, studying her husband-to-be, and Cory who is standing beside him.

  “You like him, right?”

  For a panicked moment, I think she’s talking about Cory. But of course, she’s looking at her fiancé.

  “I think he’s great. I’m glad he makes you happy, mom.”

  She squeezes my hand. “He does. And I’m so happy you’ll be standing next to me on the day.”

  I kiss her on the cheek and give her a big squeeze of a hug. “Thanks for tonight.”

  Jeff and Cory join us, Cory’s eyes scanning my face as though he can tell something’s wrong. I avoid his gaze, glancing towards the exit, feeling hollow. Jeff walks my mom out of the restaurant and I can’t get out of there fast enough. I don’t even wait for Cory to say goodbye or whatever mocking words he’s been thinking up since he kissed me. I dash out behind my mom and hurry to my car, waving when I get there. Once I’m safely inside I throw my purse on the passenger seat and start the engine. By the time I pull out of my spot Cory is already at his car, leaning against the driver’s side door, watching me. His arms are crossed over his chest, making his biceps bulge. Shit, I’m actually angry at his biceps for making me swoon.

  I’m an idiot.

  I check the rear view mirror as I wait at the end of the parking lot to pull into traffic. Cory is still watching me.

  My stomach is full of butterflies but I’m angry, too. Angry that he has the ability to fluster me with so little effort. I tear my gaze away from the rear view mirror. When the traffic thins I pull out and drive for college.

  I’m tempted to speed just to say a cosmic ‘fuck you’ to Officer Carlisle.

  But when I’m tucked up in bed that night, I find myself touching my mouth again, remembering how amazing his lips felt on mine.

  7

  ALLYSON

  It’s a few days after the dinner with Cory and his dad and I’m following Rachel through a crush of college coeds at a campus party, wishing I was back at my dorm. I down another shot of something. I don’t even know what I’m drinking anymore. It’s blue and tastes sweet like bubblegum. I could drink a whole tray of them if I knew where the girl with the tray had gone. As soon as we’d grabbed a few of the blue concoctions she hurried off to someone else.

  I don’t even know why we’re here. A campus party is the last place I want to be right now. I remember the last one I went to and a surge of panic runs through me. As hard as I’m trying to drink away my worries, the alcohol can’t dull what’s hanging over me. I turn to Rachel, needing to find a way to distract myself.

  “And did I tell you how awful he was?” I ask, my words on the verge of slurring.

  “Yes. And how annoying he is!” Rachel turns sideways to squeeze through a small opening in the crowd.

  I know she’s humoring me and I give her shoulder a little shove. “Maybe I have been droning on since we got here but he is so annoying. Did I tell you what he did to me at dinner?”

  “I seem to recall you mentioning something about it.” She smiles and I puff out a breath.

  Finally, through the crowd and on the other side of the room we settle in next to the table full of munchies. I grab a handful of chips, put the shooter glass down and pop a chip in my mouth.

  “He’s so cocky and arrogant.” I shake my head trying to rid my mind of Cory. It’s no use. The memories of his grin, his hand caressing my thigh, his lips crushing mine, won’t leave me alone.

  Involuntarily my fingers touch my lips and Rachel smiles knowingly.

  “Right. He’s so horrible.”

  “He is,” I insist.

  “He sounds like just the kind of guy you would go for.”

  I pop another chip in my mouth. “I’ve had enough of guys like that.” The image of him races back to my mind; the strong arms, muscular legs. His serious professional face and his gorgeous flirty smile.

  I’m about to reach for more snacks when an arm comes around me from behind, grabs my breast as the other brushes my hair aside. A wet mouth touches my neck and my stomach lurches. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

  Drew.

  I try to pull away but his grip tightens around me, his groping hand moves to my other breast as he yanks me back into his body.

  His hot breath against my ear turns my stomach. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Allyson. Do you want those pictures going to everyone you know?”

  I stiffen in his arms and look at Rachel who screws up her face with extreme distaste. She can’t hear what he’s saying to me because the music is so loud, but even so her eyebrows raise and her eyes grow wide as though she’s waiting for me to do something; to fight him, push him away.

  More than anything I wish he wasn’t here, but the threat of revealing the pictures keeps me rooted to my spot.

  “That’s a good girl. If you don’t do what I say I’ll send those pictures to everyone. And I do mean everyone. How would your mom feel seeing her little girl tied up like that?”

  I grimace when his hot breath gusts over me again. Rachel’s expression changes to one of disbelief at my passivity. Her eyes bore into mine questioningly, but not even Rachel knows the shame I’m trying to hide from everyone.

  His hand squeezes my breast again then he moves his arm down my body and grabs my wrist. He tugs and I follow, throwing an apologetic look over my shoulder at Rachel as we disappear into the raucous crowd. The booming music hurts my ears and makes my head pound in time to the beat. Rachel shakes her head in response, her eyes still swimming with confusion. She knows that I dumped Drew so I understand her reaction. If she knew what he was threatening to do, I know that she’d be laying into him right now. I wish I could find it in me to confide in her, but the embarrassment is too much. Rachel’s a good girl. She’s only had one boyfriend in her entire life. She’d think so badly of me if she knew.

  Drew looks back at me, a half grin twisting his face as he struts through the living room toward the den, pulling me behind him. I want to punch the smugness right off him but I’m powerless against his tight grip. I have no idea what I’m going to do once he has me somewhere quieter. My knees feel like jelly, the fear slowing me down. He yanks on my wrist dragging me forward. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, draw some attention and get help, but I can’t. If I fight him he’ll release the pictures and my future will disappear into dust.

  Before we get out of the den he stops and pins me to the wall. His lips come down hard on mine and he pushes his slimy tongue into my mouth. The smugness is there when he breaks the kiss and looks down at me. My hands are fisted at my sides but I’m paralyzed. “That’s my girl,” he says roughly grabbing my face. It’s as though he thinks I enjoyed what he did to me. Or he doesn’t care that I didn’t. “I’m going to fuck you so hard when I get you upstairs,” he growls. “On top of you so I can see those tits jiggle. From behind so you know your fucking place.”

  I can’t look at him. My eyes are on my shoes as my stomach clenches, fear making the blue shots churn in my stomach. He ducks his head to try and catch my eyes, grabbing hold of my face and lifting it when I resist.

  “Look at me when I’m fucking talking to you, Allyson.”

  Drew’s eyes are so mean. Why didn’t I see the spite in him when we were dating? Either I was a blind idiot or he’s a pro at wearing a civilized mask. He’s so close I can smell his sour breath and see the yellow staining on his teeth. People are passing us but no one seems to notice that I’m scared or that he’s threatening me. We must look like an ordinary couple from the outside.

  When I don’t react he takes hold of my wrist again, and starts to drag me through the den and into th
e corridor. The stairs to the second floor loom ahead and I look around frantically, trying to think of a way to escape his grasp. A quick scan of the people hanging around tells me there is no one I know well enough to use as a distraction, but I know that the second he has me in a bedroom I’m done for. His grip around my wrist tightens as he walks up the stairs. Pain needles up my arm as I stumble behind him on trembling legs.

  Before we get halfway up to the next floor, the front door of the frat house bursts open. People stop and stare as four cops enter the room, gazes alert, hands hovering above their weapons. The fourth officer inside looks familiar. The way he moves, the shape of his shoulders in his uniform. As he glances up the stairs, my eyes lock with his.

  Cory.

  My heart pounds as his eagle cop eyes zoom in on Drew’s hand around my wrist. The trembling in my legs spreads through my entire body making me shake.

  A muscle twitches in Cory’s jaw. His eyes narrow as he watches Drew’s hand squeeze my wrist tighter. Drew pulls again, but I resist for a moment, tears blurring my vision. I want to call out but if I anger Drew, I know what’ll happen. I can’t cause a scene.

  The officers spread out, entering rooms and issuing orders. Partygoers stream out of the den, living room, and dining room mumbling at the unfairness of it all as they leave through the front door. Cory walks forward until he’s at the foot of the stairs, still watching me and Drew. The music is turned off and the frat house is a mess of disappointed revelers. Drew looks torn, glancing up the stairs as though he thinks he might still be able to execute his plan for me, but he seems to change his mind, turning around and heading down again. His focus is on the front door. It’s as though he hasn’t even noticed Cory. I guess he has no reason to know this particular cop would have any special interest in either of us.

  Before Drew reaches the foot of the stairs, Cory steps in front of him. A few people slip passed and Drew watches them go. I feel the anger pouring off Drew’s body, searing into my wrist through his grip on my hand. The muscle in Cory’s jaw twitches again. He looks up from my hand and fixes Drew with a glare that would make most men cower.

  After a short staring match, he looks at me. “Are you okay?”

  I nod but he’s looking at my eyes that I know are moist with tears and filled with fear. I blink and look away, not ready for the humiliation of crying in front of my stepbrother-to-be and not wanting to provoke Drew by starting some kind of incident. Cory frowns at my lie then looks down at my wrist again.

  “Thank you for looking after my stepsister,” he says firmly, eyes fixed on Drew. “No need to worry now. I’ll see that she gets home safely.”

  I hold my breath waiting for Drew to argue but he turns to look at me, confusion then disbelief crossing his face. The reality of his situation dawns on him. He looks down at his grip around my wrist, letting it go as if my skin is on fire. The color drains from his face. My wrist is so sore, the skin red and chaffed. Maybe it’s finally dawning on him that what he was about to do to me is illegal. Blackmail is one thing. Releasing those photos is illegal too now. But doing things to me against my will is a whole other kind of fucked up. I take a deep breath and watch the men stare at each other, sizing each other up. Maybe now that Drew knows my stepbrother is in law enforcement, he’ll back off.

  “Good to know,” Drew says. He turns and glares at me, and the ferociousness of his stare hits me like a physical blow. Just as I’m about to take a step back to put some distance between us he turns and walks out of the house.

  I wrap my arms around me trying to stop the shaking. When I calm down a little, the throbbing in my wrist pulls my attention. There is a welt in the shape of his fingers. I cuff my wrist, rubbing the skin in an attempt to smooth it out. How long will it take for the impression to go away? The thought of carrying around the mark of Drew’s abuse makes me want to cry. I don’t need reminders of the harm he can inflict on me. I’ve barely been holding it together as it is.

  I shudder and look up at Cory. His face is impassive in just the way it was at the side of the road when he was deciding whether or not to book me. Maybe he’s been trained not to show what he’s thinking. He doesn’t say anything and the silence stretches between us.

  I feel lost, standing on these stairs; bereft. My feet are hurting in the stupid gold sandals I chose to wear to this ridiculous party I didn’t want to attend. The tight jeans and halter top feel too restrictive, too sexy. Cory turns, surveying the movement of people out of the premises. His colleagues are starting to join us in the hallway, one by one, as the rooms are cleared. A few stragglers lumber through the hall and stumble outside. In all the commotion I’ve lost track of Rachel. I’m sure she’s already been shepherded outside. Maybe she’ll be waiting out there for me. Or maybe the police have told everyone to make their way home.

  “Everyone is out now,” one of the policemen says.

  Cory nods. He steps forward and touches my elbow in a gesture so gentle I want to collapse into his arms. Despite all my mixed feelings about him, what I want most right now is to feel comforted and protected.

  “Thanks, Simons. I’ll be out in a second. Make sure everyone is on their way home.”

  The officer nods and leaves the house. From the doorway, I can hear Cory’s colleagues issuing orders to disperse. A few of the more inebriated students grumble and stubbornly refuse to move and are met by a firm response.

  I don’t want to go out there until everyone is gone. I don’t want to have to face Drew again, or answer Rachel’s questions.

  “I’ll take you back to your dorm,” Cory says, answering my prayers.

  Unable to speak because I know the tears will flow at his concern, I merely nod and snuggle into his side when he puts an arm around my shoulders to guide me out of the house.

  8

  CORY

  The darkness blurs in front of the cruiser as I speed through the winding streets of the city. When I look into the rear-view mirror I catch the glint of Allyson’s unshed tears and I have to look away. I don’t know what the fuck was going on with her and that asshole. The way he had his hand around her wrist was definitely not friendly. When I told him I’d take care of her he looked furious.

  I think about the way Jackson’s dad had looked at me when I told him I’d hunt him down. He had that same coiled rage as the douchebag at the party, and Allyson had the same fear in her eyes that Jackson’s mom had. Something about the whole situation stinks.

  I glance back again and Allyson has wrapped her arms around herself as though she’s cold. I turn up the heat just in case.

  She looks so sad right now, and I wonder if he was the reason she looked so scared when I pulled her over. Maybe he was the one she was speeding away from.

  I had a weird feeling in my gut when Simons and I had taken the call about the campus party getting out of hand. It’s not a small college, so the chances of bumping into Allyson again were pretty remote, but for some reason, I was kind of expecting to.

  She’s been on my mind something chronic for days. The taste of her lips, the feel of her skin. The way her eyes sparkle with mischief but go dark with mystery. There’s none of that now, though. It’s been replaced with sadness.

  We’re getting close to the road where I pulled her over for speeding. The cruiser’s headlights pierce the darkness. I didn’t have a partner that night and although I love Simons like a brother, I wish he wasn’t sitting next to me right now. If I was alone with Allyson, I could talk to her. Not in the jokey way we sparred at the restaurant, but seriously about what is going on with her. She looks like she needs to talk to someone.

  I glance back at her and our eyes meet in the mirror and I’m hit with a bolt of electricity that I feel in my balls. Her eyes seem wild and fearful. I can feel anxiety rolling off her in waves. I wish I knew her better so that I’d know what her expression meant.

  Simons starts talking in a hushed tone, complaining about college students and what a waste of police time it is trying to keep the
m from drinking themselves into an early grave. He’s writing notes on our callout, which will make the paperwork easier to deal with later.

  “You sure you want to go to your dorm and not home?” I ask Allyson. I don’t like the idea of dropping her off at some impersonal college block without any family around her.

  She nods and I think I see her take a deep breath.

  “Mom’s not home so I’ll be on my own wherever I go,” she says. Her voice is small and it wraps my heart with a sensation that feels dark and hollow.

  “Campus it is, then. Which dorms?” I ask, trying to sound upbeat. I don’t want her to cry in the back of my cruiser when all my attention needs to be focused on driving.

  “Dixon. Do you know where it is?”

  I nod, taking the next left and we speed down a street with lights lining the road. It’s eerily empty at this time of night. Waiting at traffic lights for the signal to turn green seems pointless and I wish I could set my lights flashing and breeze through, but getting Allyson home isn’t exactly a life or death emergency. On the short drive to the dorms, we don’t encounter another car and Simons is almost nodding off in the passenger seat next to me.

  I bring the car to a stop in front of her dorm and mumble that I’m walking Allyson to her door. Simons nods sleepily and remains in the car. I get out and go around to open the back door, holding it open for Allyson. She looks like she’s pleased to get out, even though she’s done nothing wrong. I’ve never sat in the back of a squad car but I can imagine there must be something unpleasant about it. She takes my hand, and her slim fingers curl around mine in a way that makes me think of sex.

  Even though the timing is totally inappropriate, everything about her makes me think of sex, from her plump lips to the way she walks and smells. My dick twitches and I feel decidedly uncomfortable about my reactions to her right now. She’s looking at my hand as though the contact between us feels good to her too. She sighs softly as I pull away as if she regrets the loss of my touch. With dark circles shadowing her eyes and a slight slump to her usual upright posture, I can sense her unease. The sex thoughts pass, chased by an urge to hold her against me and comfort her. Weirdly deep feelings for someone I barely know.