HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance (34 page)

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 waits 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 news 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.

Anyway,
I digress.
 
Sort of.

So
here I am on the couch alone.
 

Somehow
my plan seems to be failing in two very crucial ways.
 
No Nathan and no Ethan. And starting Pretty
in Pink now, when I’m by my lonesome, seems like such a sad, sad waste.

My
phone rings and
it’s
Katelin calling to tell me that I
have to meet her at our favorite local bar.
 
From the noise in the background, I can tell it’ll be a good night.
 
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her no,
but when she starts listing all the people that are there, including my
stepbrothers, that no becomes a rather too enthusiastic YES.

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Escape – A Stepbrother Romance

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.
 

Excerpt

Chapter 1

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.