HUGE X2 (11 page)
Authors: Stephanie Brother
“Come in my mouth,” I tell him, knowing that the invitation
will drive him crazy.
He pulls harder at
his huge cock and I wonder how it doesn’t hurt him.
I lick out, tasting his excitement and moaning
as Nathan reaches around to rub my clit.
When we first started fucking I thought I was a zero
to one orgasm girl.
My two previous
boyfriends had been pretty hit or miss as to whether they could tip me over the
edge.
When Eth and Nath first tried to
get me to come for a second time I thought they were wasting their energy.
I guess I should never have doubted them
though.
They didn’t have the whispered
reputation that they did for nothing.
The firm press of Nathan’s finger is sweet enough that I push back
against his cock, wanting it deeper; as deep as I can take it.
“That’s it, Carrie. Fuck me.
Come on my cock,” he orders, slapping my ass
with his other hand in the way he knows that I love.
“Please,” I moan, pushing back harder.
Nathan’s finger speeds up and his thrusts get
harder and more determined.
He knows I’m
close. He can probably sense that his brother is close too, from the way
Ethan’s abs are flexing with restraint.
“That’s it,” I gasp as Nathan changes his angle slightly.
The head of his cock hits me in just the
right spot and I know it’s going to happen.
It’s an orgasm that comes from deep within my pussy, and the pleasure
caresses my body, passing through me like ripples on a pond.
“Baby,” Nathan gasps from behind, slowing
only momentarily and then starting to pound into me frantically.
I know he wants to come while I’m still
gripped with pleasure.
Ethan pushes the
head of his cock past my lips and I hollow my cheeks, sucking hard as his cock
swells to bursting.
Ethan starts to come
first, filling my mouth with hot, salty cum just as I feel Nathan’s cock begin
to swell inside me.
Oh god, the feeling
I get from taking them over the edge this way is too much.
My heart feels overflowing with love for my
stepbrothers who have become my lovers.
My pulse is racing and my breath is coming in pants.
Before I was pregnant our sex life would leave me exhausted enough.
Everything is magnified when you are growing
twins.
When Nathan pulls out I roll onto
my side to rest.
Ethan lays behind me
and Nathan in front.
I love the way they
are after sex.
Yes, they get sleepy but
not so much that they can’t make me feel loved.
Nathan kisses my mouth tenderly as Ethan nuzzles my neck and holds my
hand.
I could sleep for a week but I
know we’re gonna need to get ready to go soon.
I can feel Nathan’s cum leaking from inside me and
slipping over my thigh.
“Nath,” I say, cupping his cheek with my hand.
“You getting frustrated, baby?”
He looks at me, confused.
“You know, because we haven’t had sex for a
couple of days.”
He frowns, still not getting what I’m talking
about.
“You came like a river,
baby.
It’s all spilling out of me.
So much more than usual.”
For a moment he seems to take in what I am
saying, then he sits up with a start and looks at the bed.
When he turns to look at me, he’s smiling.
“Carrie, baby.
That’s not my cum.
That’s your waters.”
I sit up with a start and realize he’s right.
The sheet is wetter than I realized.
Ethan is up and off the bed like a shot,
looking as though he’s going to have an embolism or something.
I’ve never seen a man put pants on so
fast.
He frantically runs his fingers
through his bed hair, and starts to look around.
Nathan stands and puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Relax, dude,” he says calmly.
“The bag is packed.
All we need to do is get dressed and go.”
That’s all it takes to get Eth to calm down.
That and the fact that when he looks at me I
burst into laughter.
“You looked so
stressed,” I giggle.
“What did you
think?
That the babies were just going
to shoot out my vagina right this minute?”
He grabs hold of one of my feet and pulls me down the
bed.
“Listen Peanut.
You think you’re so funny?”
I’m still laughing as he grabs hold of my
other foot and drags me until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed.
He kneels in front of me and kisses my huge belly
tenderly.
“I’m stressed because all my
life there has just been my dad and my brother that were important to me.
And I know they can both take care of
themselves.
Now, I’ve got you and two
baby girls to worry about too.”
I stroke his face, suddenly realizing what this must
be like for him.
Nath is gazing down at
us with so much love in his eyes.
The babies shift inside me as though they’re already
getting prepared to make their way into the world.
I look at my two boys, with their sandy brown
hair, bright eyes and straight noses, and rest my hand over my two girls who
might inherit all their dad’s good looks, and I realize that the old adage is
totally wrong.
Three isn’t a crowd.
It’s pretty damn perfect.
But five…that’ll be the best number of all.
Stephanie Brother writes scintillating stories with
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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ESCAPE
© 2015 Stephanie Brother
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express
permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book
review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to
persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.
The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults
over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
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Description
The last person I
expected to see in a police interview room was my estranged stepbrother...
Samantha
When I’m called to represent a mysterious client, I had no idea it would
put me face to face with the one guy I could never forget.
But memories are like shadows, following you around no matter how hard
you try to break free from their chains.
He was my best friend and my stepbrother, but now he’s a stranger.
Then our eyes meet
across the interview room and I know I’m not going to be able to stay away, no
matter how many times he warns me it’s too dangerous to become mixed up in his
life.
Brandon
On the outside I’ve crafted an image to help me fit in: tattoos and
muscles, street clothes and a scowl.
I’ve modeled myself on the man I despise most, the man who took me from
a happy home only to neglect me as a kid and use me as an adult.
I’m stuck in a world I don’t want to be in because there’s nothing for
me outside of this.
But then Sammie
walks back into my life and nothing feels the same.
She’s beautiful, and I know I shouldn’t want her that way but I do.
Just one touch and I can’t get her out of my
mind.
I want to escape but
how can I when I know I’ve lived a life that’s put me beyond the point of
return.
Saving myself now would risk the
only girl I ever loved.
Contents
Samantha
My
day starts off great.
Maybe that’s why I
have this little niggling feeling that something’s going to happen.
Something big and maybe bad.
Call it women’s intuition or maybe it’s
attorney’s suspicion.
I have a gut
instinct that doesn’t like too much positive karma for fear that it’ll all
swing back the other way.
When you wake up five minutes before your alarm, style
your hair in record time, make it to the subway early enough to grab your
favorite coffee and receive chocolates from your boss for hard work all in one
morning, it’s hard not to be watching where you step for fear you’ll break your
ankle to even the score.
Add to it that
a very sexy man engages me in conversation at the deli counter and then slips
me his card, and I’m positively dreading the downward slip of bad luck that’s heading
my way.
Then the phone rings and I know this is what my day
has been building up to, as ridiculous as that sounds.
“Samantha Corrigan?” The voice on the line is deep and
husky in a way that reeks of danger.
“Yes, speaking,” I say, with no idea who’s on the
other end of the line.
I shift forward
on to the edge of my seat and grab a pen, ready to jot down anything useful.
“A friend of mine has been arrested today.
I want you to represent him.
Can you get down to the Spring Street Police
Station now?”
“I can be there in an hour,” I say, writing Spring
Street on my legal pad.
“What’s the
name?”
“Ask for Connor,” he says.
“He’ll be in the waiting room.”
Then he hangs up.
“Connor,” I mumble, jotting it down too.
I check my phone for a record of the last
call received but it’s unknown.
When you’re an attorney specializing in defense cases
you get used to calls that come out of nowhere, but it’s usually the defendant
or his family that make the arrangements and I usually have a few more details
provided before I arrive at the police station.
The mystery caller didn’t even tell me what his friend’s been arrested
for.
Strange.
I make a few phone calls and send three emails for
other cases that just can’t wait.
Then
I’m out the door with my briefcase, hopping into a cab outside the office and
heading to Spring Street.
It’s a beautiful day, the perfect mix of sunshine and
breeze, without too much humidity.
Outside the station I catch a scent on the air, floral and damp as
though someone has been watering hanging baskets, and it reminds me of days
spent in the backyard, dancing under sprinklers with Brandon.
I think about him every so often.
He’s a part of my past that seems so distant
that it takes a song, a scent or another person with the same name for me to
recall my long-ago stepbrother.
It’s
been fifteen years since he left, promising he would keep in touch.
Shit. I swallow down a lump in my throat as I
recall the day his dad came to collect him.
He sat in the backseat of his father’s truck with his head hanging
forward, not wanting me to see how upset he was about leaving.
By that point I’d become used to holding in
my tears.
I make my way through the automatic doors and into the
cool waiting area, pushing those memories aside.
It smells musty, like old magazines and
unwashed bodies, the nose-wrinkling odor of crime.
I scan left and right looking for someone who
resembles a ‘Connor’ and a huge, hulking man stands up and makes his way over.
He has that way of walking that is part
stalking animal and part aggressive human male.
Shorn hair and all black clothes make him menacing, but I’m used to
dealing with individuals like him.
I
draw myself up to my full height, 5’8” plus my skyscraper heels.
Even so, I only reach his chin when he comes
to stand way too close.
“Samantha,” he
says surprisingly quietly.
“Connor?” I ask.
He nods and draws a brown envelope from inside his
bomber jacket.
“This is for you.
There’s payment inside.
When you need more, there’s a number inside
the envelope for you to contact.
The man
you’re representing is being held on assault charges.
It’s important that he gets released without
charge.”
“Okay,” I say, taking hold of the envelope
cautiously.
Cash handed over in
envelopes is highly irregular, and the envelope is fat enough for me to suppose
it contains a large quantity.
I want to
tell Connor this but I can tell he’s just carrying out someone else’s
instructions, probably someone he wouldn’t want to ignore.
“What’s my client’s name?”
“Brandon Ford,” he says, and I blink at him in
shock.
“Brandon Ford?”
It’s not a particularly unusual name but it’s weird that I was just
thinking about my ex-stepbrother and now here’s Connor mentioning his name.
“Yeah,” Connor says, stepping back and looking towards
the door.
“Look, I’ve gotta go.
I’ve been sitting here for hours and I got
shit to do.
You got it from here?”
“Yes,” I say, although inside I’m not sure I have.
Connor nods and makes for the exit and I turn to the
desk in a haze of memories tinged with a little bit of fear.
It can’t be my Brandon being held in those
cells.
He was a good kid.
Clever and quiet.
I tell myself that it’ll be some other
Brandon Ford I’m representing and everything will be fine.
The desk officer ushers me though and I talk to the
officer working on the case.
The Brandon
Ford being held in the cells got into a bar fight and beat a man.
The officer says it was quite brutal.
He also says that Mr. Ford is suspected of
being a member of a local crime organization, known for their involvement in
illegal gambling, drug running and other nefarious activities.
I ask if he has an existing record and the office
mentions a couple of other charges that were dropped.
Then, when I’ve finished jotting down my
notes, I’m taken towards the interview room where I will meet my new
client.
My navy patent heels click on the
tiled floor and I adjust my purse on my shoulder, feeling ridiculously nervous.
Half of me is desperate to open that door and
find that Brandon Ford the criminal is a stranger to me, but the other half is
so damn desperate to see my stepbrother again.
Hearing his name has brought up a swell of old feelings inside me that
has left me feeling shaky.
Just as the officer opens the door, I remember how
good my day has been so far.
Whoever is
behind that door is about to change all that.
I can feel it in my bones.
