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HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance

Page 23

by Stephanie Brother

I look over at him and for a fraction of a second see genuine concern in his eyes. I remember how it felt to be cocooned in the safety of his arms, to be totally at his mercy and yet feel utterly safe in my submission. Maybe I’m crazy for feeling that there’s something between us that’s more than just the residual connection that gets left behind after sex.

  As much as I want to be close to him, to soak up his strength and take comfort in his self-assurance, I’m so worried that I’m imagining everything. I can’t handle disapproval or rejection right now. My nerves and my heart are raw.

  “I have my car,” Rachel says. “I can take Allyson back to her dorm.”

  And that’s all it takes for me to decide what happens next.

  13

  CORY

  I’m so mad right now I could snap Allyson’s ex’s neck and feel absolutely no remorse. Fuck that guy for hurting her. Fuck that guy for taking her trust and abusing it.

  Fuck him for scaring her and for thinking he could use those photos to get her to carry on their relationship.

  I think about what might have happened to Allyson that night of the party if we hadn’t been called to disperse the crowds. Drew had been dragging her up the stairs when I stopped him. Another five minutes and things might have been very different.

  My fists are balled at my sides as I stride down the hallway toward the men’s room. I need to get my head together.

  Allyson looked so damn broken when she left the station with her mom and her friend; hunched shoulders and puffy eyes. No one has the right to do that to a person. To steal their self-esteem. To bring them to their knees.

  I think about what we did together last night and shudder. I’d pushed myself on her, at the restaurant and in her dorm, stealing kisses that I can’t be sure now she was totally on board with giving.

  Now I know that I was right about her running from something the night I caught her speeding. She was trying to get away from that sociopath and there was I fantasizing about fucking her roughly by the side of the road.

  I shudder again, remembering how I’d held her hair and made her suck my cock. Did she want to do that for me or was I too forceful? She seemed to get off on everything we did. I felt her come and there was no way she could fake that. Her pupils were dilated and her body showed all the signs of arousal that I would have expected. I gave her a safe word and she never used it.

  The trouble is, with everything that she was going through, I’m not sure she was truly in her right mind for making any kind of sensible decisions. My heart sinks when I realize I was probably just a convenient pair of arms, offering some kind of comfort while she was hurting.

  I think about whether I should tell Detective Jameson that we had sex. If they go to take evidence from her room, they’re going to find my DNA over everything. I don’t want to have to explain afterward. It’ll make me look untrustworthy.

  Untrustworthy is not a good look for a cop, especially one with aspirations.

  In the mirror, I look at my face that is shrouded with worry. I’ve got hours left on my shift so I’m not going to be able to check on Allyson for a while. I touch my cellphone that’s tucked into my belt, thinking about dialing her number to tell her I’m sorry. Would she want to hear that, though? Isn’t that something that would make me feel better? She doesn’t need my apologies right now. She doesn’t need to be thinking about what we did when she’s got other much more pressing things to on her mind.

  I wash my hands and splash water on my face, running my wet fingers through my hair and trying to make myself look less frazzled.

  In the hallway, Simons is passing by.

  “There you are,” he says. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “I was just freshening up.”

  “Look, I heard about Allyson.”

  I know my face must reveal such a mixture of emotions and he doesn’t say anything more.

  “Yeah,” I say and start towards the office.

  “You know if you need anything…”

  “I know man, thanks.”

  “What’s gonna happen next?”

  I shrug my shoulders because I have no idea. I’m not gonna be a part of this investigation. I’m too close to the victim. What I do know is that I’m going to make sure that whoever does run the case is going to hunt that fucker down.

  And if they don’t find him, I will, and when I do, he’s going to wish he was never born.

  14

  ALLYSON

  Rachel pulls her car into a spot in the parking lot by my dorm and we walk the path to the building. I can feel people staring at me as we make our way through the sparse crowd. Normally I would think I was just overreacting or being paranoid. But today, after all those text messages, I know they’re looking right at me.

  I pull my sweater tighter around my body, wanting to hide as much of myself as I can, but I know it’s useless. From this day onwards, I’m not going to know who has seen those pictures. I won’t know for sure if the cute guy that’s trying to pick me up at the bar has seen my mouth around someone else’s cock or seen my legs spread, held apart by cuffs around my ankles, secured to the corners of Drew’s bed. I’m not going to know if his interest is genuine and of the moment or because of what he thinks he’ll be able to do to me now that he’s seen the photos.

  I can hear the whispers as we pass and I wish the pavement would open up and swallow me whole. The whispers get louder as we walk. The path leading to my dorm seems longer than usual.

  I can’t bear that all these people have seen the pictures or at least heard about them, described in detail. How many computers are now storing images of my shame? How many cell phones had them saved so they can show even more people? I run toward the doors to the building and Rachel sprints to keep up with me.

  I don’t stop running until we reach my room. My hands shake as I open the door and enter the small space. I pace the floor, tears streaming down my face. I dash them away but they won’t stop falling.

  I reach into my purse for my phone, my usual distraction if something is bothering me, but of course, it’s not there. It’s at the station, where everyone can look at the pictures and read the text messages from strange guys who would love a piece of my ass. Not knowing what’s going on somehow makes it worse. I should feel better letting the police handle it but I hate not knowing how things are progressing. Will they find Drew? Will he sorry? Will he confess?

  I can’t deal with this. The thought of continuing with my course flies out the window. How can I be a teacher now? There is no way I can face my professors. What if the pictures have somehow reached them too? Drew said he would share them with everyone. Even if I did finish, who would want me to teach their children with those pictures floating around the internet?

  An image of my mom flashes in my head. Smiling, sympathetic, encouraging. How can I face her and Jeff after this? I know she’ll think less of me. I’m her little girl and I’ve messed up so badly.

  Then the look on Cory’s face comes back to me and I crumple to the floor, sobs racking my body. I cry into my hand, trying to catch my breath but suddenly unable to breathe. Nobody is ever going to want to have a relationship with me again.

  “It’s all going to be okay,” Rachel says, kneeling down next to me. The words are meant to make me feel better but I can’t see everything being okay ever again.

  Rachel’s arms come around me, and she rocks me against her like I’m a child who’s fallen and scuffed her knee. I hold onto her, wishing I’d had the courage to tell her and, in the midst of all my sorrow, feeling awful for believing she’d judge me.

  Sometimes it’s when you hit rock bottom that you see who is genuinely on your side. Rachel strokes my hair, shushing my weeping and eventually urges me to get up. She helps me to the bed and I sit on the soft mattress, remembering how Cory kneeled before me, waiting for me to tell him my story.

  Would things have been different if I’d had the courage to trust him, and if I hadn’t done my usual stupid th
ing of using sex as a distraction from my hurt? The memories of Cory taking care of me after sex are bittersweet. I’ll never feel his lips on mine or his gentle touch again.

  I curl up on my side and press my head onto the pillow. The coolness of it soothes me, the soft familiarity of my bed so comforting. If I could just stay here forever, and never go outside again I’d be okay. Rachel smooths a lock of hair off my face and pulls out her phone. “I’ll be right back.”

  She steps outside to make her call from the hallway thinking I won’t hear anything, but the walls in the dorm are paper thin and I close my eyes to help me concentrate on her voice.

  “Have you found him yet?” she asks.

  I know she must be talking to Cory.

  “How hard can it be to find that asshole?” Rachel sighs and I can picture her rolling her eyes at whatever reason Cory has given her.

  Rachel steps back in the room, dropping her phone into her purse.

  “I’m sorry, honey, but I have to get to work. I promise I’ll come back when my shift is over,” Rachel says.

  I nod, snuggle into the pillow more and pull the covers over me. I haven’t bothered to change into pajamas. I’m exhausted from the panic, the investigation, holding in the tears and then letting them go. I could sleep for a week if I was allowed to.

  I take deep breaths to bring my breathing back to normal. Tears threaten to spill again and the effort to hold them back makes my throat ache and my head pound.

  As far as I can see I have two options. Give up my studies and leave school all together. Huddle in my mom’s place with Jeff and deal with people solely online, never seeing another human being again except for them. Or I can move somewhere else. My credits so far should be transferable. And pretend like this never happened. No one at a new school, maybe out of state, would know anything about me except what I tell them.

  The possibility of a court case terrifies me. I can’t deal with the accusations, my name being dragged through the mud, to get Drew acquitted. Any defense lawyer would turn me into the bad girl, bringing up my sexual proclivities and making it seem as though I was the one in the wrong. Drew’s a very convincing liar and he’s managed to cultivate a respectable persona to cover his manipulative ways.

  Flashes of court room scenes from television shows play in my mind. The victim on the stand crying while her moral character is questioned. ‘Surely you didn’t think this was normal behavior.’ ‘How can my client be blamed for the actions he took when it was clear you liked to be demeaned?’ ‘Wasn’t he just giving you what you wanted?’

  I take another deep breath to stop a fresh wave of tears.

  I hate that Drew has put me in this position. Anger and shame well up inside me and I want the bed to swallow me whole.

  A knock on the door pulls me out of my musings.

  I wonder who it could be. Maybe it’s Rachel. Did she leave something behind? Maybe she decided to blow off work and come back. It would help keep me occupied if we chatted about anything except what’s going on. I have a new magazine we could look at. I need something light and fun to take my mind off things. The thought of commiserating with Rachel, maybe ordering in pizza later and binge watching mindless comedy shows lifts my spirits slightly.

  I push myself off the bed and pad slowly over to the door. Just as I turn the handle someone pushes the door hard, catching me on the forehead. Sharp pain radiates out from the impact. I feel myself falling as if in slow motion or like I’m drifting limp to the bottom of a swimming pool. Before I hit the floor rough hands grab me under my arms and haul me upright. This isn’t Rachel. The beginning creep of panic flows through me but I feel myself drifting into unconsciousness.

  I look to the right just as a hand comes over my mouth.

  15

  CORY

  “Didn’t your parents tell you your face would freeze like that?” Simons asks me.

  I glare at him but school my face into a more neutral expression. The muscle in my jaw aches from me clenching it so much. We’re sitting in the squad car and to say that I’m pissed would be an understatement. I want to be out there looking for Drew. But as I predicted my sergeant thinks my connection to Allyson means I can’t be objective.

  That’s a fucking understatement.

  My boss has no idea just how connected I am to Allyson. How I want to be connected to her right now. I should be with her, comforting her and taking the time to show her that not all men are like her ex.

  “They might have mentioned it once or twice,” I say.

  The boiling anger pumping through me will have no trouble keeping my face from freezing.

  I imagine her crying in bed, tears soaking the same pillow that her hair had fanned over the previous night. The memory of how beautiful she looked as she came rushes back to me, immediately making my dick jerk.

  I shouldn’t be thinking about that when I know she’s hurting but I can’t help it. I know it sounds lame but when I saw those handcuffs in Allyson’s nightstand, I thought I’d found the perfect woman. Stunning face, curvy figure, legs to die for, funny and sassy but soft-hearted too. Our time together had blown me away. Trust my luck that it was my stepsister-to-be who seemed to have it all.

  When you have certain desires, it isn’t necessarily easy to find someone to share them with. It’s not like you can slip that kind of thing into a conversation at a bar. “By the way, if we get to fuck later, I’d like you to tell me you don’t want to, and then I’ll pretend to force you. That okay?”

  Shit. I feel all kinds of fucked up.

  One day I’m having the best sex of my life, then she tells me it was a mistake and my world dropped away again. Being given the best gift I’ve ever had only to have it snatched away literally stolen the breath from me.

  I sigh when I remember how distressed Allyson was at the station. Not just how distressed but how guilty and riddled with shame.

  When she’d handed the phone over to Detective Jameson, I hadn’t wanted to look but I couldn’t help myself. As he flipped through the pictures my cock had twitched and I’d felt sick at myself.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  I rub my hands over my face trying to rub the images away. Rub the memory of my desire for her away when I saw her like that. What kind of pervert gets turned on by those kinds of pictures? She’s going through something terrible, something that could ruin her life and probably will ruin her chosen career, and I was getting turned on.

  I know my sexual preferences are warped. I feel like a degenerate but I can’t help the tightening in my pants, the jerk of my cock when I see a beautiful woman bound and helpless. It’s not just the feeling of control. It’s the trust in their eyes. Well, the trust when they like it as Allyson had.

  Not like my last girlfriend. After four months of hot and heavy dating, I thought it was time to let her know what turned me on. We were really into it at my place and, seized by the moment, I gripped her hands behind her back, covered her mouth and whispered what I wanted to do to her. When her eyes went wide I thought she was into it but she shook her head, wrenched away from me and told me I was fucked up.

  Maybe I am.

  She said it was wrong to want someone to pretend they didn’t want it. She stormed out of my apartment saying she never wanted to see me again. And I haven’t seen her since. Four months of dating down the drain.

  I haven’t shown my true self to anyone since, but with Allyson it had been different. Every second I was with her, taking her, pushing into her, she rose to meet my thrusts as though she enjoyed it as much as I did.

  Then she’d pulled the carpet out from under me.

  “Stop brooding already. Sarge says you can’t be involved so we aren’t involved,” Simons says.

  “Yeah, I know. I just want to be doing something to help.” I slam my hand on the steering wheel, needing to let out some of my frustration. “He’ll do it to someone else if we don’t catch him.”

  “You’re right, C, so let the other officers do
their job. At least for now.”

  “For now,” I say but I know that if I don’t get word of some progress soon, I won’t be able to stand back anymore.

  Simons nods and turns up the radio as a message crackles through. It’s a report of a breakin on campus. My heart beats faster, my hands clench until the rest of the message comes through telling us it was a professor’s office.

  “At last! Something to take your mind off your stepsister’s troubles.”

  The way he says stepsister makes me feel even more perverted.

  Simons throws the car into gear and we drive to the campus. We reach the office in under fifteen minutes. I can tell which one has been broken into just by looking down the hall. A security guard and an aging professor wearing a tweed jacket stand in front of a door. The professor looks agitated, shooting glances into his office every few seconds.

  We walk up to the security guard who suddenly stands to attention.

  “What can you tell us?” I ask the guard.

  Simons steps inside the office to look around then comes back out and begins talking to the professor and some students.

  “It was reported twenty minutes ago. The door was clearly tampered with.”

  “Anyone seen in the area looking suspicious?”

  The guard shakes his head. “A few students in the halls. The professor keeps office hours. Some wait for him in the lounge.” He points down the hall to an area that looks like a living room.

  “Thanks. Stay here for now,” I say and walk over to Simons who is now talking to the students.

  When he’s done he flips his notebook closed. “Not much to go on really. He’ll get back to us if he discovers anything missing.”

  “Guard didn’t have a lot either. We can check back later. Probably a prank. Maybe a fraternity hazing.”

  We head back to the squad car. The memory of Allyson’s distraught face tugs at me. I need to see that she’s okay. After all, she’s been through, she needs all the friends she can get and no matter what, I want to be there for her.

  “Can we swing by Allyson’s dorm?”

  “C, you heard what Sarge said. The case is off limits.”

 

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