HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance

by Stephanie Brother

  I sit back in the passenger seat watching the road zip past as Jameson maneuvers the car through traffic toward the cabin. Though we’re breaking the speed limit we’re not going fast enough for me. I wish I’d managed to get behind the wheel before Jameson, or ridden with Simons. The lights are blazing on top of the car but the siren is off so we don’t alert Drew to our approach. Two cars follow us.

  Whatever happens, next I’ll try to be a friend to her, to be a proper stepbrother. I’ll look out for her, make sure I vet whatever men she dates to make sure she doesn’t get into trouble again. I’ll get her whatever help she needs after this. I just hope Drew hasn’t had the chance to do anything bad.

  I sigh and rub my face again, my hand encountering more stubble that I normally like on my chin. I need to shave, have a hot shower but not until I find Allyson safe and sound.

  “So this girl is your stepsister?” Jameson asks, breaking the silence and pulling me away from thoughts that would send me spiraling into more anger.

  “Soon to be stepsister,” I say. “If we can get her back.”

  “We’ll get her back. You’ll be able to dance with her at your dad’s wedding.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “The wedding’s gonna be postponed, I’m sure. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to celebrate after something like this.

  “Life goes on,” he says philosophically.

  “We need to get her back safely first. Whatever happens after that can be worked out later,” I say.

  We’re driving up a dirt track, dense forest on either side. Jameson has slowed down significantly as we make the approach, wanting to minimize the crunch of the tires on the stony ground. As we pass a small cabin nestled into the trees I strain to get a good look at it – where the doors and windows are – planning how we might access a similar property. A call comes in over the radio.

  “Negative at both addresses.”

  “Shit,” Jameson mutters and my heart sinks. That’s two of our main leads out of the picture. If she’s not at this address, then this is going to become a full-on man-hunt. State-wide media coverage. It’ll be out of my hands entirely.

  “The cabin is about 300 yards that way,” Jameson says as he brings the car to a standstill. “We need to travel on foot now.”

  I’m out of the car and jogging up the path, as the others park and begin to follow. Jameson is a big guy so he’s further behind, wheezing a little at the pace.

  As the cabin comes into view I take a concealed position behind a large trunked tree, and look around. The truck from the CCTV is parked at the side. The windows in one of the rooms are boarded up from the inside with what looks like flattened boxes.

  “You,” Jameson points to two of the officers. “Take the back of the house.”

  The officers nod curtly and begin to run around in a wide loop of the property.

  “You two,” he says. “Stay in front while the rest of us go into the building. If that rat tries to jump ship, it’ll be down to you to catch him.”

  They nod and head off in separate directions, making a tighter loop so that they end up in the undergrowth on either side of the front of the cabin. Jameson, the last two officers and I follow one of the officers, then make our way towards the front door. I’m crouched low so as not to alert anyone who might be looking out of the window. Drew may be alone, but maybe not. Jameson tries the handle and it turns but the door doesn’t open. “Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath. There’s a window open in a room to the side. I nod towards it, thinking it might open wide enough for me to get through. Probably not wide enough for Jameson but I could open the front door from the inside. I stay in the shadows, peering into the room to check for occupants. It’s empty. I begin to pull the window outwards, slowly so as not to make any noise. The gap is narrow but I contort myself, pulling a leg through and turning my shoulders until I’m in the right position to slide in. It’s musty inside and I can smell a faint underlying chemical odor. It doesn’t feel homey in the cabin at all.

  I tread softly as I make my way towards the room’s open door, drawing my weapon as quietly as I can. I need to be ready in case Drew is in the hallway. The house is so quiet but I catch the sound of woman’s voice, somewhere close. It’s a moaning sound, filled with frustration.

  Allyson?

  My heart is pumping so damn hard, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The hallway is empty so I move backward, gun pointing into the cabin until my back hits the front door.

  If Allyson is here, she’s alive. I find the key with my free hand, turning it slowly and quietly, eyes blinking to keep a focus on the dark interior of the cabin. Behind me, Jameson turns the handle and pushes the door slowly. The hinges squeak slightly, and I draw in a shaky breath.

  Jameson and the other officers enter behind me, weapons drawn.

  This is it.

  20

  ALLYSON

  The room isn’t dark anymore. I glance around quickly, taking in how close my surroundings are and how sparse. Wooden walls and no pictures make it feel very functional, like a cabin out somewhere remote that’s only used for weekends. My heart sinks as I imagine the dark forest that might surround me, outside the walls of my prison.

  “So you’re awake,” Drew whispers in my ear. His hot, moist breath makes me recoil.

  “Nnnooo,” I moan against the gag. It has become sodden in my mouth.

  The curtains are still drawn but they’re not thick. Now that I can see I’m pretty sure Drew has fixed cardboard over the windows to block out the sun. I look around again, trying to get my bearings. The door is in the far corner, distant enough that I mentally calculate my chances of reaching it are small. I’m still restrained and not able to go anywhere, but that doesn’t stop the eternally hopeful fragment of me from considering my escape anyway.

  I know Drew’s watching me look around but I don’t give a fuck. This could be my only chance to find something that might help me. There’s a lamp on a low table next to me; something I could pick up and swing at him if I ever manage to get my hands free. There’s a vase of dried flowers on another chest nearer the door. I look at the window again, covered by floral curtains, and wonder who the hell owns this place. It looks like it’s been decorated by someone’s grandma.

  Drew is sitting on the edge of the bed and he strokes my arm, down the length of it in a long leisurely way, setting the nerve endings off and making me shiver. In the dark the fear was overwhelming. Without sight, I felt totally powerless. In the light, I’m hit more with a sense of revulsion. Drew grins at my reaction and trails his finger back up my arm, enjoying the torment and control, maybe delusional about why my body is reacting the way it is. Does he think I’m aroused?

  “You have such a beautiful body,” he says reverently. “Such lovely flawless skin to mark.”

  His fingers trail down to my wrists and he pauses, a finger gently running around above the bindings. “What’s this?” he asks, running a finger over the spot where Cory’s cuffs bruised my skin.

  I groan again and attempt to talk around the gag in my mouth but everything I say comes up muffled. Angrily he yanks the gag off. I gasp and suck in deep breaths. Though I could breathe through my nose, it’s such a relief to be able to draw in big gulps of air.

  “What the fuck is this?” he asks again, jabbing at the sore spot on my wrist and making me wince.

  “What’s what?”

  “Don’t try to play innocent with me, Allyson. Answer the damn question.”

  “You want to know how I got bruises on my wrists?” I say, my voice incredulous. “Why the fuck do you care?”

  “I care because I know I didn’t fucking cause them,” he spits out viciously. “If someone else has been putting their hands on you, I want to know about it.”

  “You don’t have any right to know anything about me anymore, Drew.”

  He raises a hand and I cringe, closing my eyes reflexively.

  He’s going to hit me.

  Seconds pass and noth
ing happens. When I look up he’s not poised above me like I feared but rubbing his hand through his hair like he’s frustrated. Then suddenly, he springs off the bed and paces across the room shooting angry glances at me. I tug at my hands and try to get some more flex so I can turn onto my side but there’s no give and my wrists pinch painfully. I gasp, clenching my hands into fists and rotating my wrists to try and loosen the ties. Drew watches all this and comes back to sit on the edge of the bed again. He rubs my arm, gently touches the bruises on my wrists and the binds as though he feels bad for the pain I’m in. I wonder if I might be getting through to him by showing him my discomfort.

  “Tell me how you got them.”

  He’s trying to sound reasonable but I know what he’s doing. His eyes glint and a muscle in his jaw twitches, all tells that he’s holding down his anger. All my hopes that I might have a chance at convincing him to let me go fall away.

  I laugh; an alien sound under the circumstances. Fear has given way to anger and anger to something else. Raging righteousness. I feel unhinged, desperate and reckless.

  He wants to know and it’s the one thing that I know will drive him nuts with jealousy and maybe even push him far enough for him to make a mistake. I know this might be the most stupid thing I have ever done but I’m too far gone to think clearly.

  “Cory, the cop,” I say, smiling wickedly. “You saw him at the party. He cuffed me, arms behind my back so I was totally helpless. He had the power to do whatever he wanted to me and he fucked me better than you ever have. I don’t belong to you, Drew. I never did. You were just a way to pass the time.”

  I pause waiting for Drew to take it all in, watching his reaction warily.

  His face contorts and turns red. In his lap his fist clenches. He’s angry but not like I expected. When he turns from me I realize that he doesn’t know how to react. I talked back and he didn’t expect it. He expected me to be submissive and scared, but as I look at the pathetic piece of shit that has me strapped to this bed against my will, I’m raging.

  “You think I was saving myself for you? You think that what we did together was just for you? You’re fucking deluded, Drew. You’re sick.”

  “You’re sick,” he shouts. “You’re the sick piece of shit who told me to tie you up and torment you. You’re the one who likes to play twisted sex games.” He takes a deep breath, and leans over me, face changing from angry to calm. Calm scares me more than anger. His eyes glint in the low light of the room. His lips form a thin line across his face. He grabs my wrists, holding them tight enough to make the bruises throb with fresh pain.

  “I’m going to show you who owns you, bitch.”

  He releases my wrists and caresses my arm, moving slowly, pausing at the swell of my breast to brush the side. Then he continues caressing me with the tip of a finger, lingering over my ass, caressing down my legs. I want to pull away from his touch but the ropes around my feet are still as tight as ever.

  “I know what you want,” he whispers. “You want to be taken against your will, just the way we pretended before.”

  I struggle against the bonds again, more desperate than ever to break free. I have no doubts that Drew will follow through with his threat and all I can think about is getting out of there. Away from him.

  I scream at the top of my lungs. “Help me. Somebody help me!” I don’t know if there is anyone out there who might hear my cries but I don’t care. I shout again. “HELP, I need HELP.” I struggle, bucking on the bed as much as I can. I scream again and jerk and buck some more as Drew reaches over me to cover my mouth with his hand.

  I hear a bang below us. Drew’s head jerks in the direction of the door. He’s not expecting the sound, that is pretty obvious. My initial fear that he had an accomplice in another part of the cabin dissipates and we both freeze, me out of sheer hopefulness that I might be freed and Drew, it seems, in total panic. There’s another bang and the sound of heavy shoes on the wooden stairs. I’m hoping so badly that it’s someone coming to rescue me.

  Drew springs off the bed, swearing under his breath. He stands facing the door, frozen as though he doesn’t know what to do next. He looks to the window, as though contemplating if he could escape that way. But he doesn’t make a move to either exit, just starts to undo my bindings.

  “Tell them that you were here because you wanted to be,” he says. “I promise I’ll remove the photos from the websites I posted them on.”

  I say nothing as he hurriedly unties my feet and then my wrists. His fingers fumble with the knots as he glances at the door then back to my wrists. I’ve pulled them so tight with all my struggling that he can’t get them off. He swears under his breath and I can’t help it. I laugh. He’s so fucking pathetic. What kind of man kidnaps a woman, then begs her to get him off the hook? He’s deluded!

  Finally, he manages to get the rope around my wrists undone. “I promise to try to undo the damage I’ve done.”

  I pull back my hand and slap him hard across the face. It’s a reflex reaction and the hardest that I have ever hit anything in my life. I scramble to my feet, rushing toward the door to flee the torrent of anger I know that slap will bring.

  Before I can reach the door he grabs me from behind and pulls me back against his body. He’s breathing hard.

  The door bursts open and suddenly Cory is standing there with another officer. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone. The relief and fear mingle together and then I’m crying and crying, gasping for them to help me.

  Drew pulls me backward, hand at my throat and I watch Cory’s face, his cold hard expression, waiting for his reaction.

  They stare at each other, as Cory takes another step into the room, his gun drawn and pointing directly at us.

  I grip Drew’s hand, trying to pull it from my where it’s restricting my breathing.

  “Let her go and we can all go home in one piece,” Cory says so calmly I wonder how on earth he manages it. How can someone keep their head in a situation like this? If our roles were reversed, I’d be shouting the air blue.

  He levels the gun at Drew’s head and I wince, hating that I’m in the line of fire. I want to close my eyes and shut it all out. I want to be anywhere in the world but where I am right now. I want to fight my way out of Drew’s clutches and throw myself into Cory’s arms.

  Drew tries to maneuver me in front of him in such a way that Cory won’t have a clear shot. Not without hitting me.

  More tense seconds pass and I sob again, not able to control myself. The fear is too intensely coiled inside me. I’ve been terrified for too many hours.

  I don’t know what makes Drew decide that things have gone far enough, but I feel his surrender.

  “Don’t shoot,” he says. “I’ll let her go, but don’t shoot. I’m giving myself up.”

  He releases me and immediately raises his hands in the air. I rush forward towards Cory who grabs me with his free arm and pushes me behind his large frame. I cower, my whole body shivering while Cory keeps his gun trained on Drew. The other officer walks forward, pulling out his handcuffs. Once the cuffs are on he nods at Cory.

  “I’ll take him.”

  Another officer enters the room and grabs Drew around the upper arm leading him out.

  Officer Jameson starts calling it in. Cory puts his arm around me and guides me out through the door. I glance around at the place I’d been held captive, not really taking in any of what is happening to me. It’s a holiday cabin. I remember Drew mentioning his parents had a holiday getaway that we might be able to use someday.

  Looks like he kept his promise.

  I feel woozy. Shocked. My knees go to jelly, but just as I think I’m going to fall, Cory scoops me up and holds me against him.

  I feel like I’m in a dream; as though I’m looking through someone else’s eyes or walking in a stranger’s shoes. The edges of my vision are misty like the faded edges of an old photograph. I only realize that I’m crying when I feel the wetness on Cory’s shirt against my face.r />
  “It’s okay,” he croons, lifting me higher so that I’m closer to him. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

  There’s a hitch in his voice that makes me hold onto him even tighter. Despite his calm exterior, I feel his concern. The beat of his heart against my ear is frantic and he’s holding onto me too tightly, but I don’t care that his fingers are digging into my flesh. All I want is to stay in his arms, knowing that he’ll keep me safe.

  We get to the bottom of the stairs and I can see Drew being led away. Officer Jameson and Cory wait for a squad car that I can see heading up the hill toward the front of the property. Jameson opens the rear door and Cory sets me inside, pausing to look me over.

  “Are you hurt anywhere?” he asks, taking hold of my hand and looking at my wrists. His hand seems to tremble as he takes in the damage to my skin. My feet are still bare and the welts around my ankles have bled in streaks.

  “Fuck,” Cory says. “Get the first aid kit.” Jameson heads to the trunk while Cory takes my face in his hands and strokes away my tears. “You’re safe,” he says firmly. I don’t register it at first. His eyes are almost alight they’re burning so fiercely. “Did you hear me?”

  I nod watching his eyes searching my face, looking for more injuries maybe or a sign that I’m hearing him. That I’m lucid.

  “You’re safe, okay?” he says again. “He’s gone, Allyson. He won’t be able to hurt you again.”

  This time, I nod because I’ve heard him.

  He came for me.

  He realized I was missing and he found me.

  I reach out to cup his face and whisper “Thank you.”