HUGE 3D: A MFMM MENAGE STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (HUGE SERIES Book 5)

by Stephanie Brother

  They go and I’m alone.

  My body is being moved. It wracks and heaves. Soreness in my throat. Bright lights shine in my eyes. Something pressed over my face.

  Darkness again.

  Maybe this is death.

  27

  JESSIE

  Ryan is alive.

  Just.

  If Darryl hadn’t found him he would have slipped away.

  I cry, imagining him dying with no one by his side. No hand in his. Nobody to say goodbye.

  It was my postcard. Those words that I wrote touched Darryl enough that he’d disturb his employer to show him.

  Darryl tells me that he knew that me and Ryan had fallen for each other, and he felt that he should try and convince Ryan to go after me now, not wait until another lifetime. He was going to tell him that we all need to make the most of this life. Sometimes you have to seize your chances. You have to challenge fate and see what happens.

  It’s Darryl’s romantic heart that saved Ryan.

  Ryan.

  He’s connected to high-tech machines by tubes. A mask covers most of his handsome face. His once intense eyes are closed to the world and he’s being kept alive. Just.

  They told me they’d lost him twice. Twice his heart has stopped and they’ve had to bring him around. They’ve told me I need to say goodbye to him, but how can I? How can I give up on him when he has so much to live for?

  Our baby rests in my belly like a tiny pinprick of hope; this life that we’ve made together that he has no idea exists.

  His legacy.

  A big ball of love surrounds my heart. I thought this man was so strong, so in control. Impenetrable, almost. Now I’ve found out what he was planning, I see the truth. He’s not larger than life. He’s just a man. A noble, strong and intelligent man. A man who was faced with a terrible diagnosis and decided that living was no longer an option.

  He has to live.

  Of this I am determined.

  I tell him he has to live. I put my mouth to his ear and tell him to fight, to come back to me. I tell him that I’m sorry. I tell him he’s going to be a daddy. I take his hand, the one with the cannula linked to all the drips he’s hooked up to, and press it against my belly. I tell him he’s made a life and he needs to come back so he can see his child come into the world. He needs to fight to make the most of all the days he can share with our baby.

  I tell him there is hope, even when life seems hopeless.

  I tell him that I love him and that I’ll spend all the days of my life with him if he’ll just come back to me.

  Days pass. The doctors come in and out, looking at his chart, looking at him, and frowning.

  It’s the frowning that I hate the most. I know that with each day that passes, he becomes less and less likely to come out of the coma he’s drifting in.

  Leaving the hospital is awful. I fear that he will die and I won’t be there. After the first two nights, I confide in Darryl who speaks to Ryan’s PA. Ryan is moved to a room where there is space for me to stay with him. Geraldine appears with a bag filled with all the things I’m going to need at the hospital. I go down to the pharmacy in the hospital and buy more vitamins.

  I stay with Ryan for two weeks, three days and twenty hours, and in the middle of the night, as I’m drifting off to sleep I hear a sound. It’s a gurgle, then I look across and I see his hand move, fingers curling and uncurling.

  I fly out of bed and stand next to him, watching as his eyes flicker. Is he coming around? I press the button for the nurse, then take hold of his fingers and squeeze gently. I lean close to his ear and beg him to wake up. I tell him that I’m right next to him. I kiss his cheek and kiss it and kiss it. My lips feel wet and when I look up a tear has slid out of the corner of Ryan’s eye.

  “Baby.” I smooth his face, wiping away his tear. I lick my lips and taste his sorrow. His eyes flicker again and this time they open for a few seconds and fix on me. They seem glazed and I have no idea if he sees me or if all of this is just reflex.

  “I’m here, Ryan. I’m here,” I say. “It’s time to wake up now.”

  The nurse rushes in and checks his vitals. She stands with me and we observe Ryan’s struggle to regain consciousness, and just as I think he’s coming back to me, the machines begin to scream and his heart stops.

  28

  RYAN

  Once upon a time there was a boy who had nothing but the love of his mother and an absolute determination to succeed.

  Once upon a time there was a boy who climbed to the top of the mountain and found it was a lonely place.

  Once upon a time there was a boy who found a girl when it was too late.

  Once upon a time there was a boy who wanted a second chance.

  29

  Jessie

  The day is cold and damp. My boots are snug but I still feel the chill from the ground as I walk through the iron gates that lead into the cemetery. In my gloved hands I hold a small bouquet of flowers. I know he’d think I was ridiculous for bringing them. What man cares about flowers?

  His grave is deep into the cemetery so it takes me a few minutes to get there. All the while my heart is beating faster. I don’t think this will ever get easier, no matter how much time passes.

  When someone is snatched away from you without the chance to say goodbye, there always seems to be unfinished business. I wish that the last thing I said to him was something profound, something that would have let him know how I truly felt about him.

  It’s eerily quiet. No birds sing. No cars travel down the winding drive that leads from the road. It’s as though time has stood still and I am the only living thing still in motion.

  When I reach his graveside my throat tightens. Seeing his name engraved in the cold black marble seems unreal.

  So final.

  There are other flowers here. I’m not the only one who has remembered that it’s the anniversary of his death. I place the bouquet on the ground and stand awkwardly to the side. All the things I wanted to say are like ash in my mouth.

  When someone you love dies there is a part of you that feels guilty. Why am I still alive and they are gone? There’s no rhyme or reason to the pattern of life. We are born and we live and the only certainty is death. I wonder how differently we would all live if we knew the exact date and time we were going to pass away. Would we be better people or worse? More selfless or selfish?

  I don’t have the answers but know that there is no making sense of any of it. No point in dwelling on the whys and what ifs. Every day we are gifted is precious and needs to be spent in pursuit of life’s truth.

  Love.

  We waste too much time. We don’t say the things we want to say. We hold what’s really in our heart too tightly and focus on the mundane and unimportant.

  We are blinded by the features of the modern world; entertained to the point that we no longer engage in our own lives, and it’s not until it’s too late that we see what we should be focusing on.

  He was twenty-seven.

  Jackson Ford; my high school sweetheart. We were happy for a while. For all the trouble he left for me, he was a good person in his soul.

  I tell him I still think of him. I tell him that his favorite restaurant downtown has closed. I tell him that yesterday I went for a burger and a beer in memory of him. I tell him that I don’t blame him. Not anymore.

  As I make my way back to the car the baby squirms in my belly. I lay my hand over what I think is her little foot.

  Ryan is waiting for me. He’s still not well enough to drive himself but the limo is comfortable and I enjoy getting to snuggle up with him in the back.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me. I knew he wanted to come to the graveside but it didn’t feel right. This part of my life was over before we met. I’ll always come here out of respect for Jackson, but Ryan is my priority now. Ryan and our baby.

  “I’m fine,” I say, stroking his face. “It was strange but I’m okay.”

  “That’s good.” H
is eyes are soft. I can see he’s worried that I’m sad and his concern makes me want to cry.

  It takes nearly an hour to travel home. I’m finally starting to think of Ryan’s mansion as our place but it has taken a while. I don’t have my own suite this time around. I’ve moved into Ryan’s.

  It’s the middle of the day but we both head upstairs. Ryan still gets tired. His muscles were weakened during his recuperation and his condition has progressed a little too. My pregnancy has been mostly uneventful but I’m starting to feel the burden of the weight of our child.

  He takes my hand and leads me to bed. “Come on, mommy,” he says, patting my rounded belly. “It’s nap time.”

  “Very funny, daddy,” I laugh.

  He grins. “Call me that again.”

  “You gonna take me to bed, daddy?” I joke, poking his pec and dodging to the side so he can’t catch me. I’m too slow, though. His hand on my wrist is gentle.

  “Yes, baby. I’m gonna take you to bed.”

  Ryan’s lips meet mine like a soft hello. A reminder that this thing between us is loving and sweet and good. He tastes me like I’m delicious, and I drink in his kisses like I’m parched. A rumbling sounds in his throat. He’s hungry and damn if that doesn’t make me horny as hell.

  His hands caress my cheeks and stroke my temples. His fingers slide through my hair and all the nerves on the back of my neck come alive. I know what those fingers can do to me. I know the pleasure they can give.

  I’m restless. Antsy. Impatient. I want to feel the heat of his skin against mine. I want to breathe in the scent of him that makes my brain foggy like the best kind of drug.

  He’s slow though, in a way that’s infuriating and amazing.

  No part of me is neglected. His lips gently nibble my earlobe, tongue trails down my neck, kisses are peppered across my collar bones, fingers find the buttons of my blouse.

  I’m not wearing sexy lingerie. Those days are over for a while, but it doesn’t seem to faze Ryan. He uncovers my swollen breasts impatiently. When he palms them for the first time his touch is firm; frantic almost. My clothes drop to the floor so fast I’m dazed and when I’m finally standing in front of him in just my plain pregnancy bra and cotton panties he drops to his knees.

  “Jessie,” he says softly. “My girl.” His hand trembles against my belly and place mine over it as he kisses across the tight skin of my stomach.

  His fingers find the soft fabric of my underwear and tugs until they are sliding down my thighs. I feel his breath against my skin, then soft kisses that get closer and closer to where I want his mouth to be. “Sit,” he orders, holding my hand as I perch on the edge of the bed.

  His tongue finds my clit so easily, it’s as though he’s learned my body as well as he knows his own. That first tentative touch is always the best. I want him to go slow. I want him to hold back and keep the point of his tongue glancing over my clit so softly that it makes my toes curl and my pussy drip. He licks me exactly the way I like it. Slowly, regularly, interspersed with movements that surprise me enough to make my back arch. Oh god, I needed this. I crave release. I crave to surrender to this man who has brought me from my knees to pinnacle of happiness.

  “Baby,” he murmurs against my pussy. “You smell so good. You feel so good against my tongue.” He licks me from my clit down to where I’m wet and back again, then just as I’m getting close he backs away.

  I moan with frustration, but I’m quiet when I see him tug off his shirt and drop his trousers. When he’s left in just his boxers, Ryan moves to stand between my thighs.

  “Shift back, baby. Lie on your side.” I do as he asks, knowing how good it’s going to feel when he pushes his big cock inside me from behind. The anticipation is too much. My pussy bears down in anticipating the penetration, hungry for the sensation.

  His strong chest presses up against my back. His lips find my neck and he suckles gently. I feel the weight of his cock nudging at my ass. It throbs as though it’s impatient. His hand guides it to my entrance and I hold my breath.

  There’s something about this moment. The anticipation. The expectation.

  The memory of the sensation.

  The intimacy of that first penetration.

  Welcoming someone inside you is such a huge thing.

  It feels as momentous as the first time he pressed his way inside. More even because now I love him and that makes this more about connection and less about chasing pleasure.

  “I love you,” he whispers when he’s as deep as he can get. Even then, he nudges forward again as though he wants to get deeper. I’d take him deeper. When he’s inside me it feels as though we are one person. A single entity that can move and breath as one. When he’s inside me I don’t fear anything. I am free to let go in the circle of his arms. I’m free to close my eyes to the world and rest easy within our bond. I’m free to be vulnerable in the knowledge that he will protect my heart.

  “I love you too, Ryan,” I say. His name is like sugar on my tongue. The beginning and the end of everything good in my life.

  His finger finds my clit and strokes gently. We rock together, every push and pull of his cock nudging that place inside me that’s the source of all my pleasure. Between us our skin is slick. Where we are joined I feel wetness against his thighs, evidence of my arousal. I touch my own nipple, pinching to bring about that connection with my pussy that can make me come in a flash. Oh god. I want to come so badly. I want to feel that oblivion. That surrender.

  I want to cry out his name and spasm against him. I want him to feel what he does to me and know that he is my world.

  Ryan’s thrusts get deeper and my movements get more frantic and then his fingers pinch my clit and I’m coming and coming and coming.

  “Oh,” I cry out. “Don’t stop—”

  He keeps moving but slowly now, riding out the pulsation of my orgasm and that way my pussy clutches him as though it never wants to let him go.

  “That’s it baby,” he whispers. “Let it go.”

  I remember a time he said that before. When we were in Las Vegas and I was terrified. Letting go and allowing myself to love was what I feared the most.

  As Ryan comes inside me I have no fear. This man, who can give me almost everything except the moon and stars themselves, has given me the one thing I needed the most.

  Love.

  Epilogue

  JESSIE

  Do you believe in fate?

  I didn’t. Not until I Ryan walked into that strip club and decided, for whatever reason, that I was going to be part of his plan to end his life.

  Now I believe that there was a higher plan for us. I believe that there was a force at work that day. A force that put me in the path of another person who understood all the hurt I’d experienced in the past and all the fear I held in my heart. I know I was that person for Ryan too; his balm. His salvation.

  I don’t want to think about what would have happened to Ryan if he’d booked another dancer that night. Maybe he would have walked away like he did with me but maybe he never would have thought about spending thirty days trying to face his fears, even as he was planning to do the unthinkable.

  And what would have happened to me? It would have taken me so long to pay off the debts that Jackson had left me with and by then I wouldn’t have been me anymore. That job was crushing my soul with every day that passed.

  I don’t like the idea that I needed rescuing but I did. Maybe it’s because money was such a factor in how Ryan initially changed my life and for him it was all about the emotional bond that we formed. Do I think he would have changed his mind about his suicide had he known I was pregnant? I’m not sure. I know Ryan now. I know what he’s like when he makes a decision. He doesn’t waver from his chosen course. Not without a pretty compelling reason.

  In the end it was Abbey who was his savior. Abbey. She was practically nothing; a gathering of cells and an idea of something that could be. But that was enough to wake Ryan from the madness he’d f
allen into. It was enough for him to see that there was something to live for, even if his health was going to become problematic.

  My belly squirms as I walk from the garage into the house and I rest my hand against where Abbey is kicking. It’s as though she can tell I’m thinking about her. My ankles are so swollen today and my hips are aching too. Ryan better be planning on giving me a foot massage before dinner! Nolan is bringing the bags from the car. I haven’t gone crazy. Just a few things for when she arrives. The bank card Ryan gave me rests uneasily in my purse. I still can’t get used to the fact that I can buy whatever I need whenever I need it. Now that I have the freedom I’m finding that I don’t actually want half the things I thought I was missing.

  Maybe that’s because I’ve found the thing that was really missing; the other part of my heart.

  Ryan is sitting outside. He’s staring off into the distance and my heart clenches. I don’t like to see him lost in his own thoughts because I know where those thoughts have taken him in the past. I make sure my footsteps are loud enough for him to hear me approaching and as soon as he does he turns and smiles, and just like that all my worries are gone.

  “There they are,” he says as though Abbey is already a separate being. She’s going to be soon, but right now I’m enjoying her being a part of me.

  “Hey, babe,” I say and lean down to kiss his lips softly. When I stand he leans forward to wrap his arms around my middle and presses a kiss on my belly. Abbey kicks her dad in the face and I laugh. “She’s going to be trouble,” I tell him.

  “I hope so,” he says with another grin. He strokes my belly and I feel the tremble in his hand. It’s been getting worse and every time I notice it my heart breaks a little. I try not to think about the future too much. None of us knows what is around the corner and there is no pattern for the progression of MS. Every case is unique. I take a seat next to my man who pours me a glass of iced tea, then tells me to put my feet in his lap and gives me the foot rub I’ve been craving so badly. God, his fingers are magic. Even Abbey seems to feel his touch because she wriggles even more.