HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance

by Stephanie Brother

  He cups my face and stares into my eyes. “I would never think badly of you for what happened.”

  “But, the pictures,” I say.

  “But nothing. Drew was a sick man who took advantage of your trust. He abused the power he had over you and twisted something that you enjoyed into a weapon. I know after something like that it will take time for you to trust again. But you need to understand that nothing that you did, nothing that happened would ever make me think lesser of you.”

  I nod, lost in the soothing sound of his voice and the words that I hadn’t realized that I needed to hear. The heat spreading from his hand into my wrist is like pure energy pulsing between us. It brings back memories of the moments before we kissed; static electricity that needs to be released.

  He’s right about trust. When it is lost it is hard to find again. Wounds to a person’s faith in other human beings are a terrible thing to bear. He’s wrong about how I feel about him, though. Even with my hands cuffed behind my back I trusted him. Trusted him to give me pleasure, to take pleasure, but to not hurt me.

  “Trust does take time,” I say.

  “I would never do something like that to you, Allyson.”

  “I know.”

  His hand still grips my wrist. His other hand cups my face. I peer at his lips, remembering how they felt on mine. I feel his breath gust softly against my cheek. He’s hesitating so much that I can almost feel him vibrating.

  I move closer to him until our bodies are just about touching. I smile, tilt my head, but before I can lean in Cory groans deep in his throat and captures my lips in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth dancing with mine. He tastes of red wine and sorrow. Behind all the physical fierceness I can feel the powerlessness he felt at being unable to find me for so many hours. A shiver races through me and I wrap my arms around him, clutching him for support and to let him know that I understand. I get it. He needed to protect me and he couldn’t.

  My eyes flutter closed and the garden melts away. I savor the flick of his tongue over mine, the light sweep of his lips that turn hungry and devouring. It’s as though he’s been waiting for this kiss for years.

  Maybe I have too.

  When we’re in our teens we get told by our parents and teachers to be sensible, find a partner and be monogamous to be safe. We so desperately hope that the person we have chosen to be with will care for us both physically and emotionally. Our heart gets involved whether we want it to or not.

  I followed the advice, but somehow it didn’t work out in the way everyone claimed it would, until now.

  My psychologist told me that it is quite normal for girls to replicate the mistakes of their mothers. We learn young what to expect of men. We seek in our partners what we learned was normal from our fathers. At first, I felt so stupid for that, taking the resulting escalation of violence and intimidation as something I had brought on myself. It took time for me to realize that I have to let everything go. I need to move forward to heal the wounds of my past.

  I see in Cory a good man, who puts my needs and emotions first. I see a gentle man with a darker side. The yin and the yang. I see two people who are complementary in many ways.

  If I’m brave enough to hold out my heart in my hand, the person who takes it will need to hold it gently. I know Cory would wrap it in silk, put it in his pocket and keep it with him always.

  His arms roam over my back, possessive and gentle, squeezing and needing to show me how much he wants me, conscious not to be too forceful. His careful approach makes me want to ditch the rest of the reception and have him tie me up and take me again.

  He pulls me in tighter to his body, his hand stroking over my hair like a father would soothe a child.

  Finally, he breaks the kiss and we stand there breathing heavily, staring at each other. I feel awakened inside. Small fragments of my soul have been picked up and placed back together.

  A smile turns the corner of his lips up and his eyes sparkle.

  “I’ve got you, babe,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose.

  And I know that he has, in all the ways that count.

  EPILOGUE

  ALLYSON

  ONE YEAR LATER

  I take a corner at medium speed and smile as the red and blue flashing lights bathe the inside of my car. I peek in the rear view mirror. When I see Cory’s grin I pull over to the side of the road. It’s the same road he pulled me over on a year ago. The traffic stop that changed my life.

  I turn off the ignition and rub my hands over my skirt. My nipples are already hard as I wait for him to sidle up to the car. My skin feels hypersensitive, knowing what’s coming.

  I roll down the window as soon as he approaches the driver’s side door.

  “Do you know how fast you were going, Allyson?” A grin turns up the corners of his mouth. His eyes flash with desire.

  “Too fast?”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the car.”

  I unbuckle my seatbelt and bat my lashes at him until he moves away from the door. I get out and lean against the hood waiting for what he’ll do next.

  “I’m going to have to check you for weapons.”

  My heart races. A jolt of awareness crashes through me, settling between my legs. This is my favorite part.

  “Stand facing the car with your hands on the roof and spread your legs.”

  I do as Officer Carlisle asks, biting back a sassy remark. I flash him a grin instead and get into position, setting my legs wider than he needs for a routine weapons check.

  He starts at my ankles and feels his way up my legs. His touch is light, soothing, and it makes me so hot I want to spin around and pull him into my arms, but I wait until he gets to the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I tremble as his fingers knead the muscle.

  “Should you be doing that?” I ask.

  “Don’t try to act innocent with me. You want it,” he says. “A bad girl like you needs to know who’s in charge.”

  He moves his hand up higher, under my skirt, his thumb almost grazing the aching lips of my pussy. I spread my legs even more, leaning over against the car, resting my head on the roof with my hands splayed out.

  “I don’t want you to do that,” I say, loving every second of my fantasy coming to life.

  “Then you shouldn’t have been speeding.”

  He skims up higher and encounters no barrier. I hear his sharp intake of breath and I grin. Leaving my panties at home was definitely a good idea.

  His fingers get so close to my pussy that I start to ache. My legs tremble even more. I fight the urge to bend so I can pull him into me. He flicks his thumb over my clit and I suck in a breath.

  “You like that, don’t you? You want me to fuck you here on the side of the road.”

  “I don’t like that,” I gasp but my voice sounds more excited than scared. “I don’t want you to do that to me.”

  He plunges a finger into me, pumping quickly in and out until my pussy aches for release. I want to ride his finger, pull it deeper into my body until I come all over his hand. I bend slightly to give him easier access.

  “I know what you want.”

  The sound of his zipper makes me shiver with anticipation. I wait for him to lift my skirt. When he does the cool breeze against my heated skin brings up goose bumps. The fear of getting caught makes the act even hotter. It feels dirty and raw and so, so good.

  “Over to the hood,” he commands.

  I do as he asks, shimmying further over and draping myself in the way he wants, giving him a great view of my ass. His hands cup my cheeks then he parts them in the rudest way possible. Oh god, he’s just looking at me, bent over so helplessly, everything on display. He glides his dick down and between my pussy lips, coating himself with my juices.

  “You’re going to love this,” he says.

  “No,” I gasp, swaying back slightly when the tip of his cock presses against my entrance. We both sigh as he pushes into me. He’s so big but he always wait
s until he knows I’m slick enough to take him. He drives me hard and fast, the car shifting slightly with each thrust. A coil of pleasure slowly winds in my stomach and moves lower. My clit throbs, pulsing in time to his thrusts. When I think I can’t stand it anymore he plunges even deeper, pushing, pushing, pushing until I’m on the edge.

  “I can feel how much you want it,” he murmurs against my neck. “You can’t deny it when your body is clutching at me like that.”

  “No,” I pant.

  “Stop lying to me, baby girl. I know just what you want.”

  His fingers reach to pinch my aching clit and I can’t hold it anymore. My orgasm crashes through me like an exorcism, causing all my muscles to seize, and spasms to wrack my body. My legs feel weak, but Cory’s there to hold me up.

  He grunts his release, clasping my hips tight enough to bruise, pounding his jerking cock inside of me. It feels so good when he surrenders that way. I’m never happier than when I see how much pleasure I give him and feel how much pleasure he gives me. When Cory pulls out he ruffles my skirt back down, kisses me on the back of the neck and slaps me lightly on the ass.

  “You really shouldn’t speed,” he says helping me upright and turning me in the circle of his arms. He brushes a kiss over my lips then kisses the end of my nose.

  “I promise it won’t happen again, Office Carlisle.”

  “Why is it that I don’t believe you?”

  I smirk and run my fingers down the front of his uniform.

  “Maybe because you know what I naughty girl I am,” I reply, and he grins at me like I’m his favorite thing in the whole damn world.

  “I’ll follow you home, okay baby?”

  “Pick up a pizza on the way. I’ll make a salad.”

  He kisses me again. “Make sure you don’t speed or I’ll have to pull you over again, and this time, I’ll really make you sorry.”

  I laugh and brush my lips against his in a soft kiss. I reach down and cup his dick. “Promises, promises!”

  His deep laugh warms me all over again. “If you’re not careful I’ll have to arrest you and take you down to the station.”

  “Why does the thought of that make me so damn horny?”

  I trail my hand over his muscular chest, marveling at how lucky I am as I walk back to the driver’s side door and get back in my car.

  As I pull away from the roadside, with the taste of Cory on my lips, I can’t help marveling at how much has changed. The past year has been such a mix of good and bad. Drew’s case hasn’t reached trial yet, but I know that when it does I’ll have the support to be able to deal with it. Mom and Jeff are so happy it’s almost nauseating, and they were actually over the moon when they found out that Cory and I were a couple.

  We’ve both come a long way since my sexy officer pulled me over for speeding that dark and scary night. It’s taken Cory’s open-minded attitude and gentle care to make me accept that my kinks don’t define who I am as a person. When you find a person who accepts you for all the little parts that make you unique, even the bits that you’ve struggled to come to terms with yourself, it’s as though all the puzzle pieces of life fall together to make the perfect picture.

  A year ago, Officer Carlisle could have arrested me. Instead, he recognized something in me that was just right for him.

  And you know what? Cory may be a good cop, but he’s also a very bad boy. And in the end, all that matters is that he is totally and utterly perfect for me.

  About the Author

  Stephanie Brother writes scintillating stories with bad boys and step-siblings as their main romantic focus. She’s always been curious about the forbidden, and this is her way of exploring such complex relationships that threaten to keep her couples apart. As she writes her way to her dream job, Ms. Brother hopes that her readers will enjoy the full emotional and romantic experience as much as she’s enjoyed writing them.

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  Also by Stephanie Brother

  Huge X2 – A TWIN STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (MENAGE)

  Description

  There are rumors going around about my twin stepbrothers.

  HUGE rumors.

  I try to ignore gossip, but that’s easier said than done when it involves crazy sex stuff and verified reports about the size of things that a stepsister should know nothing about.

  Ethan and Nathan are the identically gorgeous hunks of man flesh that have just moved into my house. Even before the rumors, I could barely look at them, with their ridiculously twinkly blue eyes, and smiles that turn me into a mindless puddle of goo.

  We’re supposed to be family and I’m trying my hardest to be a welcoming little stepsister. But then I overhear them talking about things I am definitely not supposed to know, and suddenly I realize I’m in double trouble.

  HUGE X2 is the story of a girl’s realization that the best things in life come in extra-large, twin packs.

  EXCERPT

  1

  DOUBLE TROUBLE

  When people ask me if I have brothers or sisters I usually tell them no; then I remember Ethan and Nathan and blush furiously at my mistake. See, I was an only child until I turned nineteen, so it’s strange to suddenly find myself with two huge stepbrothers and a whole new status as a little sister.

  Tiny is what they call me. Sometimes Titch. Midget is a favorite too. And Peanut. Whatever name they give me, I hate it. The whole teasing thing is something totally new to me, and at first I really didn’t know how to take it. Girls who grow up with real brothers are toughened up from birth. I got the joy of having to learn as an adult.

  After a year, I’ve grown used to the teasing, but not their size. At five foot three, I’m a fraction under the average height for a girl, but Ethan and Nathan are towering hunks of men that loom over me at six foot three and a half. They like to remind me of the half, as though being a foot taller isn’t enough for them to be happy. Sometimes I feel like they’re as broad as they are tall, with their ridiculous shoulders and chests with more hills and valleys than a national park. And their thighs. Oh god, their thighs are just so massive and muscular that their pants look like they might split at any moment.

  Did I mention how gorgeous they are? When I pass them in the hallway I find myself leaning against the wall, not only because they seem to take up most of the space wherever they are, but because looking at them is like looking into the beams of a passing car; I’m dazed until they have passed, and even for a few moments afterwards.

  All my friends are blatant in their jealousy. “I can’t believe you get to share a house with the Stanmore twins,” they say. They’ve heard the rumors about them too. The whispers about the size of things I should know nothing about, and how well they know how to use them. There are darker tales too, tales that keep me awake at night. Apparently they like to share, and I’m not talking about KFC family buckets here.

  I keep quiet when Katelin and Abigail gossip about them. I don’t get involved in the speculation about who they are fucking and what it must be like. Instead, I tell my friends about all the annoying things that come with having them live with me: how their shoes are like a row of canoes by our front door, and how I can never find any snacks in the cupboards because they eat everything in sight.

  As much as I complain about them, I actually secretly like having them around. My house was pretty boring when it was just me and mom. Now I have a stepfather who’s hilarious, and a home that’s always full of people. We have cookouts and movie nights, and everything’s so much more fun than it used to be.

  That’s why my secret is kind of terrible. It’s why I haven’t told anyone, not even my best friend Katelin. It’s not that she’s particularly judgmental or prudish or anything. It’s just that when you think you might be in love with your twin stepbrothers, anyone would find that ne
ws shocking. I mean, what am I thinking? For one, they’re two years older than me and always have these perfectly amazing looking girls buzzing around them like flies on unmentionable stuff. For two, they seem to think I am just available as a source of amusement. For three, and most importantly, they’re twins.

  There are two of them.

  Did I mention they’re twins and not just one person?

  I wish they were one person.

  Sometimes I fantasize that I creep into their room in the middle of the night, and with my imaginary super strength, pick one of them up and slot him inside the other, like human fleshy Russian dolls. But then I get caught up on which one of them I’d slide into the other, and what that would mean. If I chose to slot Ethan inside Nathan, would that leave me with bubbly Eth or cuddly Nath? I get my fantasies tangled and complicated with feelings because I could never choose between them, not even in my mind.

  It’s Saturday night, and I should be out having fun. I want to find the prospect of going to a bar with my friends appealing. I’ve been single for ten months, basically since I realized that every time I kissed my boyfriend, I was imagining other faces. Katelin has been hassling me about going out more. I think she thinks that I’m depressed. I know she’s worrying about my abnormal dislike of socializing, but I just don’t find the prospect of going out and talking to other men appealing in any way. I want to kick back in my living room and hope that Ethan and Nathan are tired from working out and come to hang out with me. They always want to watch sports, and I get a lot of criticism for begging to watch movies. When they eventually cave to my womanly tactics – pouting, sulking, and threats to knee them in very tender places – they join me on our ark of a couch for a marathon of 80’s teen movies. I hold the popcorn because they don’t eat carbs after 5 pm, and they provide the hilarious running commentary on fashion and hairstyles. You see, that’s how I know they love The Breakfast Club and St Elmo’s Fire as much as I do. And don’t get me started on Pump up the Volume. Christian Slater rules.