Stepbrother Lover
Page 1
Contents
Stepbrother Lover
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
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Stepbrother
Lover
Carrie Breeze
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Carrie Breeze
Chapter 1
“It’ll be nice to get this mortgage payment out of the way for mom.” I tell Greg as we get in line. There are four customers ahead of us. It’s just before ten and the bank lobby is pretty quiet. “You know she’s been worried sick that they’d foreclose and push her out on the street. Dirty rotten Dawson Bank.”
“Yeah, it will be nice, sweetie. I just wish there’d been another way, other than using you student loan money. How are you going to pay tuition for next semester?”
“I’ll find a way.”
“I know a way,” putting his hand around my waist, nuzzling my long wavy brown hair. “We’ll chuck it all, run off and get married.”
“Stop it. You’re my stepbrother.”
“Nothing illegal about that.”
“Yeah, but still….” Greg is very handsome and strong but he’s kind of over protective of me, being a couple years older and this being my first year in college. All the same, I feel good having him beside me. But, sometimes he gives me feelings I’ve never had before, like when he gets really close. I still haven’t decided if it’s right or not.
“Everyone down on the floor! NOW!”
Oh my God. Three people just burst in through the bank doors. They’re wearing long black coats and black ski masks and waving sawed-off semi-automatic rifles. Everyone is down on the marble tiled floor. Greg has his arm over my back. My flesh trembles. I peak my head up to see what’s happening. There are two men and a woman. The men go back behind the teller’s cages demanding keys for the cash drawers. The Woman patrols the lobby hurling insults. She means business.
“Okay you bitches, out with your cell phones. Come on, I ain’t got all day,” we reach into our pockets and toss them out onto the floor. She goes around collecting them. “I find a cell phone on any of you fuckers, your dead. Anybody moves, your dead. Don’t look at me,” butt stroking the back of Greg’s head with her rifle. Ouch! His forehead knocks the hard tile. I feel his pain. I want to cry. But I need to be tough. Greg looks woozy. He’s bleeding. Through the corner of my eye I see the woman turn away and I sneak a comforting kiss to Greg’s cheek. We clasp hands. “Let that be a warning,” she says, walking around the other customers spread out along the floor. “The next fucker to look at me, I blow your motherfucking head off.”
The two men behind the teller’s cages finish bagging all the cash. They are very quick and professional. They come running out carrying bags of loot just as I hear screeching tires out front.
“Whose the asshole who called the cops?” one of the men shouts,” running up to the glass doors. Gunfire brakes the glass and he retreats behind a wall.
“There’s too many of them. We’ll never make it out,” the other guy shouts, training his rifle on the door.
“Oh, yes we will,” the woman says. “We’ve got two tickets. You two,” kicking my thigh and Greg’s butt. “On your feet.”
“Please don’t hurt us.” I say, getting up on my knees. Greg is still hurting, holding the back of his head and groaning. “Shut up, on your feet, bitch,” yanking my arm, pulling me up and shoving me into the strong arms of one of her male cohorts. He smells of cigarettes and gasoline. He is very masculine. I feel a strange sensation in my groin. The woman pulls Greg to his feet, stands behind him with her forearm around his throat. She jabs her gun in his back and says, “Okay, hotshot start walking.” She stops him just before the door.
“You in the bank,” the cops announced through a bullhorn. “There’s no way out. Lay down your guns and come out with your hands in the air. You have two minutes before we gas you.”
“Listen up, coppers, we got hostages. You lay down your weapons or we kill ‘em.” One of the male robbers says. “Sonya, Will, we’re going out.” He opens the door and pushs me out, rifle barrel jammed into my neck. Sonya follows with Greg and Will comes out last. “I said, lay your guns down or these two die,” Nick shouts at the cops. Four patrol cars have the street blocked off. I’m so nervous I can hardly walk. Nick holds me up in front of him, grasping my blouse. “Don’t fall down on me, babe. Keep walking,” he whispers in my ear. “Just do what I say and keep walking and you’ll be back at the mall tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? I suddenly remember my reason for being at the bank. I need to make mom’s mortgage payment. I can’t wait till tomorrow.
Chapter 2
The robbers huddle behind Greg and me for cover as they scuttle us down the sidewalk, past the police barricade to the end of the block. A white van screeches to a stop at the curb. Nick flings open the sliding side door and shoves Greg in and then me.
“Don’t try to follow us or their dead,” Nick shouts, popping off several shots at the police before crawling in beside me. A police sniper fires off a shot and blows Willie’s head off. Brain matter sprays in splattering my blouse. I scream. Nick slides the door shut. Sonya, grabs Willie’s money bags, dodging more rounds, and hops into the front passenger seat. The driver speeds off through a hail of gunfire.
“Oh, man,” the driver says, taking a screeching turn and speeding through light morning traffic. “What’re we going to do without Willie?”
“Please don’t harm us.” I plead. “What’re you going to do with us?”
“You got away.” Greg adds. “You don’t need us anymore. Please let us go.”
Greg is scrunched up against the window. I’m in the middle of the bench seat. Nick is on the end, pistol trained on us both.
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” he says, removing his ski mask. His eyes flash dark as night. He sneers at me, leering at my body. His black trench coat is open. I notice the prominent bulge in his jeans. In the struggle, my blouse got torn, its left shoulder hangs loosely down upon my arm. My large D-cup left breast, bulging up over my bra, is giving him an eyeful. I put it back into place and rearrange my blouse, covering myself. “We need you a while longer.”
Fear grabs me. My limbs quiver. What’re they going to do with us? My mouth feels dry. Don’t panic. I clutch Greg’s hand. He squeezes it firmly. You need to talk to them. Talk them into letting you go.
“Your name is Nick,” I say, swallowing hard. “I’m Ashley. This is my stepbrother, Greg. If you let us go we won’t….”
“Shut up, bitch,” Sonya says, turning and shoving a forty-five semi-automatic pistol in my face, glaring at me with murder in her steel blue eyes. I think she’s jealous. Use that.
“Keep your eyes on the road, babe.” Nick says. “Help Sid drive. Look out for cops.” Turning back to me, he says, “You’ve seen my face.I just can’t let you go.”
“We promise, we won’t say anything,” Greg says.
“Yeah, that’s right, you won’t. Dead men don’t talk,” Nick says.
“Maybe we can be of use to you in other ways,” I say, hoping not to sound too desperate.
“Oh, are you worth anything in cold hard cash?” He smiles a cold hard grin.
“Look, we don’t like banks anymore than you do,” Greg says.
“That’s right. They’re going to foreclose on my mom’s house and push her out onto the street.”
“I guess we have something in common there,” he says, his gaze softening. “Bastards did the same to my dear old ma. She had to collect cans and bottles to survive. Didn’t last a year.”
r /> He seems a little misty eyed. I slide my trembling hand over and touch his massive thigh. He’s a powerfully built man, a bit larger than Greg. As I do this I notice Nick’s cell phone is hanging precariously out the side pocket of his trench coat. I secretly nudge Greg and gesture with my eyes at the phone. He gives me a subtle nod. I squeeze Nick’s thigh warmly and inch my hand up toward his crotch. He smiles down at me, his eyes brightening.
“Maybe I can be of some other use to you,” I tease. Smiling back.
“Oh, you have a trashy side, do you?” He puts his hand on top of mine. It’s large and callused, like his other job is carpentry or brick laying or something. He squeezes my hand and moves it up to his lap. He’s large and hard. I’m actually enjoying it. It’s relieved some of my fear. I squeeze and caress him. Greg sees all this and he nudges me. A frown darkens his brow. Jealous. I ignore him. He nudges me again. I look. He gestures with his eyes at the cell phone. I give him a sly wink of recognition and return my attention to Nick.
“So, where are you taking us,” I whisper, nudging him, not wanting that demon Sonya to overhear and fly into a rage.
“We got a hideout down by the railyard.”
“Hope there’s a good bed….”
Sid suddenly banks a hard left onto an unpaved side street, throwing Nick’s weight against me. I take my hand from his crotch to steady myself. In the process, with one smooth motion, I swipe the cell phone, sweeping my hand across my lap and secretly dropping in down into the narrow crevice between Greg’s and my thighs. The van straightens out of the turn. I return my hand to Nick’s crotch as Greg slides the phone into his pocket.
Chapter 3
At nineteen, I’m still a virgin, probably the last hold out in my college. Not for want of guys hitting on me, I’ve got a hot body and a friendly personality. I just want to make it meaningful when it happens. But, I know a few things from films and from hearing the stories of my friends. I don’t know exactly how far to play this tease with Nick. Far enough to get Greg and me out of this mess, I guess. Greg has Nick’s phone. Hopefully, he can get help before I have to compromise my integrity. All the same, I’m starting to enjoy playing the slut card. My insides are all tingly. And, Nick isn’t all that bad looking.
We drive through a lonely industrial park. It feels like we’ve just left the everyday world and entered some strange new place dominated by weedy storage lots and large decaying brick warehouses. It’s hot with the odor of over-heated metal and pine tar coming from the railroad yards. A freight train lumbers by alongside our road. Diesel exhaust chokes the air. A constant heavy pounding can be heard from a pile driver on the other side of the tracks. Sid drives around to make sure we haven’t been followed by the cops and then pulls the van off into a dirt yard of a dilapidated house. He pulls around back, out of sight of the road, and parks next to the rickety unpainted wooden back porch.
A crow scolds us from atop the two story high roof as we all pile out. Greg and I stand beside the van, unsure of what they’re going to do with us. He has his arm around my shoulders, protecting me, pressing against my hips, hiding the cell phone bulge in his hip pocket.
“Sonya, Sid, take the money into the kitchen, count it. You’re coming with me, babe,” Nick says, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Greg. Greg slyly covers his pocket with his hand. Nick pulls me up into his arms, hard up against his semi-automatic rifle. He kisses me, his breath alcohol and cigarette tainted. His beard stubble grates against my cheek like sandpaper. “I got a bed upstairs with your name on it, babe.”
“Wait a minute,” Greg interrupts, his eyes burning, stepping toward us, his jealousy flaring up again.
“You got a problem, stepbrother?”
“Cool it. Go use the phone,” I mouth to Greg so nobody else can see. He gives a subtle nod - message received.
“I got to go pee,” he says. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Hey, Sophia.”
“What?” stopping on the porch.
“Take junior, here, in to the little boy’s room before he wets himself.”
Sonia hands Sid her money bags. He continues inside while she steps back down and approaches Greg.
“Well, little man, before I take you inside I have to search you,” getting in his face, pressing her pistol up tight into Greg’s gut.
Panic sweeps my soul. We’re lost.
“Be my guest,mama,” Greg says. I see him secretly slip the phone into the cuff of his sleeve while raising his hands up over his head. I breath a sigh of relief. Sonia pats down his sides, all the way down his legs to his ankles and then back up along his inner thighs.
“What’s this?” she asks, feeling his bulge. “What you hiding in there, son?” She unzips his fly. I try to look away but I can’t. I’m curious to see how big Greg is. This is something I’ve wondered about since junior high, ever since he and his mom moved in with my dad and my younger sister and me. “Hey, this guy’s carrying a concealed weapon,” Sonia says, pulling him out, wickedly smiling up at him, fondling him, Oh my God, Greg is hug! He’s semi-hard. Sonia moves closer. Her mouth watering, as is mine. I feel a strange exhilaration. I feel warm and moist down below. At this moment I’m torn between Nick and Greg. My mouth is watering along with Sonia’s. I desperately want to be in her place. I chance a look up at Greg’s face. He meets my gaze. There is desire in his leering eyes. A strange smile plays at the edge of his lips. He is putting on this exhibition for me. He wants me. He’s getting aroused not from Sonia but from mentally undressing me. Sonia moves her lips closer to Greg.
“Better be careful, babe,” Nick laughs at Sonia, that thing could go off in your face.
“Are you gonna shoot me, honey bunch?” she says to Greg, lustfully smiling up at his face.
Suddenly, the theme song from The Sound of Music shatters the air.It’s Nick’s phone going off in Greg’s raised hand.
“What the…,” Nick says. “Son of a bitch has my phone.”
Sonia bolts upright, grabs the phone, checks its screen and hands it to Nick. “It’s Deny.” Nick leaves me to take the call. “Remember what I said in the bank?” Sonia says in Greg’s face.
“No, I don’t.”
“Anyone caught with a phone is dead.”
Chapter 4
“Wait. Wait. You can’t do that,” I scream as Greg pulls up his pants.
“Watch me.” Sonia yanks his arm. “Come on, move it to that shed,” motioning to a tool shed some fifty feet out back in the weedy lot.
“I won’t let you do this,” my fear level rising to red alert. Breaking free from Nick, I lunge at Greg and wrap myself around his body. “If you shoot him you have to shoot me first.” Tears stream from my eyes.
“Take that bitch inside before she brings the whole neighborhood down on us,” Sonia says. An absurd concern since there’s probably nobody around for a mile or two.
“I love you, Greg.” I scream as he walks away.
“Don’t let them do anything to you,Ashley” he shouts back. “You’ll make it out of this.”
My knees give out and I collapse to the dusty ground, my chest heaving.
“Get up,” Nick grabs me under the arm and drags me up and into the house. “Stand up. Stop crying. There’s nothing you can do about your brother.” He leans me against the kitchen sink. It’s filthy, full of grimy dishes. Cockroaches scurry along the edge that meets the wall. Nick walks over and talks to Sid whose sitting at the Formica-topped table. He’s still counting money. Several stacks of bills lay on the table. A torn yellow and white checkered curtain flutters in the open window. I can see Sonia walking Greg to the shed.
“Come on, upstairs,” Nick takes my arm. We walk out into the living room - bare except a threadbare couch and peeling green floral wallpaper. We hang a hard left and head up the dusty wooden stairs. Talk to him. It’s your only ticket out.
“You seem like a nice guy. What’re you doing in such a crummy business?” looking back over my shoulder at him. He glares bac
k up at me. Could tell he’d been admiring my tush.
“Think I like doing this? Action? Adventure? Great pay? No thanks. I’d take a good steady job any day.”
“So what happened?” We reach the top of the stairs. Dust motes float in the hot stale air. The smell of plaster dust and dead mice behind the walls pinches my nostrils. We crunch across the gritty floor and squeaky floor boards to a bedroom at the end of the hall. Inside there’s a bare mattress, a dresser and clothes scattered across the bare floor, a full ashtray, beer bottles, fast food wrappers and other litter. Out the window I see the tool shed. I haven’t heard any gunshots. Maybe that’s a good sign. “Don’t want to tell me what happened?”
“I told you about my mom being forced out of her place. I took a chance. Tried to save her.”
“What did you do?”
“Took all my savings and put it on a horse. I lost,” He leans his rifle against the wall, takes off his coat, hangs it in the closet, pulls out his handgun and sets it on the dresser along with his cell phone. I’m standing at the window, in front of the mattress. He comes over, takes me in his arms and starts kissing my neck. He’s gentle but a little out of practice.
“How much money is downstairs?” Distract him. Don’t let him go too fast.
“So far, seventeen thousand.” He opens my torn blouse and his left hand moves inside,finds my breast and caresses it.
“What are you going to do with it?” My body starts to relax and warm to his tender touch. I hold his lower back. He is strong, his back muscles feeling like steel cables.
“I’ll take my share and move out of this dump, out of state. Maybe to Puerto Rico. I here life is easy down there. You can live on practically nothing. Want to come with me?” He lowers me onto the mattress. It smells of beer stains. His mouth moves to mine and we kiss long and hard. His hand moves to my thigh and caresses it. He’s taking this too far. Talk to him.