Dick: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

by Wild, Nikki

  My hips began to tighten as I started to buck them hard against my hand, whimpering as a wave of pleasure washed over me. I was so worked up from the locker room that cumming would only take a few moments. My climax was coming upon me like a tidal wave, looming over me ominously just before it crashed hard right over me, sending my body into a squirming writhing convulsion of pleasure. I couldn’t help myself as I let out a loud, satisfied cry of ecstasy as I began to turn into a puddle against my blankets. My body felt warm from my fingers to my toes, and soon I felt the enticing promise of sleep, dreaming oblivion calling my name.

  The longer I closed my eyes the more I felt myself drawn into the comfort of my bed, feeling the near weightlessness as I rested on the mattress. The more I fought against the soothing promise of rest, the tighter it held, pulling me into the warm embrace of comforting sleep. I glanced again at Becky’s clock, blinking blearily before I could no longer hold my eyes open, looking at the arms softly ticking their way around before my world was consumed by darkness.

  I woke back up with a start, blinking as I sat myself up.

  The room was still empty and exactly as I had left if before I’d fallen asleep, which was odd. Had I only been asleep for a few minutes? It had felt like I’d been out for at least a few hours at the very least. But if that were the case, then were was Becky?

  I looked over at the alarm clock, shocked to find the hands reading two-fifty-seven in the morning. Becky should have been back hours ago. Worry settled into my stomach as I took out my phone to check whether maybe she’d left me a message to say she’d be longer than expected—but the only thing I found was a notice to update my Facebook app. Something felt wrong—a feeling in my gut that honestly defied a logical explanation. I knew that I needed to make sure Becky was all right.

  I pressed my thumb against the first speed dial option in my phone, immediately bringing Becky’s face up on my screen as it began to ring. But before it even got past the first ring I heard the chipper sounds of Becky’s voice.

  “Hey! You’ve reach Becky! I’m not able to get to the phone right now but please leave your name and number and I’ll—”

  I pressed the red “end call” button with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose in an attempt to calm myself. Already I could feel my stomach clenching nervously, my mind concocting scenarios where Becky was on the side of the road somewhere in a ditch. But the more I thought about it the more I hoped that I was only overreacting. Maybe she’d just had herself more of a good time with Greg than she’s expected and the two of them were back at his place.

  I tried to call again, but once more was put through straight to voicemail.

  “Hey, Becky, it’s Jessica,” I said into the phone after the beep. “I’m just calling to make sure you’re okay. It’s like, three-a.m. and I just thought I’d check in since you said you’d be back earlier. If you’re like, doing something with Greg, that’s fine I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Just do me a favor and just call or text me whenever you get this so I know you’re all right.”

  As I set my phone down, I thought that the smartest thing to do would be to just go back to sleep and hope that by the morning Becky had either come back to the dorm, or gotten back to me. But when you’re not sure whether your friend is all right, it’s hard to close your eyes let alone get a good night’s sleep. Luckily for me, I didn’t have time for either.

  Just as I was about to close my eyes I heard the loud, sustained buzzing of my phone jittering against my bedside table. I jumped up so fast there could have been a fire underneath me, scrambling for my phone in time to swipe my thumb across the green “answer” button.

  “Becky?” I asked, hardly even recalling looking at the caller I.D.

  “Jess?” came a voice I knew was hers, but something about it seemed different, almost like she’d just woken up. “Is that you?”

  “Yeah, Becky, it’s me. Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know where I am,” she said, her words slurred and slowed. “Can—can you come get me?”

  “Becky, what happened?”

  “I’m really scared,” she said, and I could already hear her trying to hold back a sob. “I think something happened to me, Jess. I don’t feel right.”

  “Can you see anything familiar? Are you still on the campus?” I asked, standing up and running over to put on my sneakers. I didn’t even both putting on real clothes and slipped out the door in just my pajama bottoms and T-shirt.

  “I… I think so,” she mumbled. “I see the message board, near the dorms…”

  “All right, Becky I’m on my way, okay? Don’t move from that spot.”

  “I—yeah…” she mumbled. “Okay. I think I’m just gonna lie down.”

  “Becky, I need you to stay awake, okay?” I said as I jogged through the hallways, shocked to see more than a few girls up, their dorm doors open. I wasn’t sure what compelled me to ask, but before I knew it I was begging others for help as I passed by in the halls, a trail of people following after me as we made our way out of the dorms and onto the campus grounds.

  “Becky?” I asked, only a groggy, half-awake mumble came in reply. “Sweetie, put your phone in the air and try to flag us over. The light will tell us where you are.”

  For a long moment there was no reply as I scanned the area for any signs of my best friend or the light from her phone. It felt like I was standing there for minutes just looking for the faintest glimmer of her screen.

  “There!” one of the other girls shouted, pointed toward a tiny glimmer of light almost one-hundred yards away. I broke into a run, chasing after that faint light as though my life depended on it—since I was sure that my friend’s life just might.

  Behind me I could hear the sounds of the other girls from our dorm, none of their paces as frantic as mine as I ran at almost breakneck speeds toward that glimmering light. My side burned, my body unused to running almost the length of an entire football field without stopping. But before I knew it I was kneeling at my friend’s side as she lay in the crisp green lawn.

  “Becky?” I whispered as I knelt down beside her, brushing her long hair out of her face. “Becky, honey, what happened?”

  “Jess?” she asked, blinking up at me blearily. “I was just talking to you on the phone.”

  Something was definitely wrong.

  It took us a few minutes to get Becky up and more coherent. Together with the help of a few of the other girls from the dorm we managed to help her back over to the steps of our building. With most of the excitement gone, some of the girls had wandered back inside to get some sleep, something I could hardly blame them for in the slightest.

  “Becky, what happened?” I asked, kneeling down beside her on the front steps. “Did something happen to you while you were out?”

  “I’m… I’m okay, Jess,” she said, her words mumbled and slurred. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said that Becky was drunk off of her ass. That explanation would have been more than enough for her behavior, except for the complete lack of smell that came with drinking that much alcohol.

  “You’re not, sweetie,” I said, peering into her eyes to try and get a better look. They weren’t bloodshot, but as I gently tilted her head up to catch a better light from the lamp, I could see how glassy her eyes had become.

  “She’s acting like she’s on something,” one of the girls said. “What’re her eyes like?”

  “Glassy,” I replied, frowning. Becky wasn’t the kind of girl to ever go out and do anything so reckless as take drugs. “And she’s almost acting like she’s drunk.”

  “I don’t want to freak you out, or anything,” the girl said, her brow furrowed in concern, “but I think that your friend might have been roofied.”

  “What? Are you sure?” I asked, my eyes going wide.

  “No,” she said her hands up in an almost defensive gesture. “You’d have to get a drug test for that. But something like this happened to a friend of mine, and when she came to, they f
ound out that she’d been assaulted.”

  “Jesus,” I said, running my fingers through my hair nervously. “What do we do?”

  “I’ll get campus PD on the phone and tell them what happened,” she said, pulling out her cellphone, “just stay with her and make sure that she doesn’t try to get up. They’re going to want to ask her some questions.”

  “Right.” I nodded, turning my attention back to Becky. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I whispered to her, hoping to God I wasn’t making a liar out of myself.

  A loud buzzing made my jump, my gaze drawn down to the phone I’d set down on the stairs right beside Becky, watching it for a moment as it whirred and then stopped moving.

  Who the hell is texting me at almost four in the morning? I wondered, picking the phone up and unlocking it with a swipe of my finger.

  The only alert I had was from an unknown number, a paperclip icon beside the number notifying me that I’d also gotten an attachment to go along with it.

  The second the message opened I felt my breath leave my body without warning, my mouth falling open as I saw right on my phone a picture of me kneeling on the floor in front of my stepbrother, my mouth wrapped around his cock. I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat as I looked around, as though whoever had sent the picture would be standing close by, waving at me and twirling their mustache.

  Another buzz heralded a second message.

  “You’ve been a very bad girl.”

  Chapter 14

  Dick

  Jessica told me what had happened with Becky minutes after campus police had arrived—thankfully leaving out the picture of the two of us in her witness statement. But the fact still remained that someone had those pictures of us out there, someone who was more than willing to use them in order to terrorize the both of us.

  When the campus cops had arrived, they questioned Becky only for a few minutes, then left, proving the limited amount of compassion UCLA’s finest had for its students. From Jessica’s telling you’d almost think the cops themselves had been drunk or worse, laughing too much at their own jokes at Becky’s expense before leaving with barely a statement from the victim herself.

  Becky herself had been keeping mostly to herself over the last few days, barely even leaving the dorm to go to class, instead having Jessica collect as much coursework as she could for her from the classes they shared. Naturally Jess was worried, and I didn’t blame her in the slightest. Since the incident, Becky had barely spoken to her save a few words about the classwork she needed.

  This was apparently where I came in.

  Jessica was convinced that I’d be able to get Becky out of her shell somehow and maybe find out more about what happened, though I couldn’t imagine why she’d want to talk to me in the first place was completely beyond me. I had every respect for Becky, but that didn’t mean she and I actually liked one another. She’d played the part of the protective best friend well over the years I’d known both her and Jess, but that meant protecting my stepsister from me on more than one occasion.

  “You’re sure this is actually going to help?” I asked as Jessica led me up the stairs to their dorm.

  “No, I’m not sure,” she said, glaring down at me from the landing, “but this is the best I’ve got right now. I thought maybe she’d be willing to tell someone she didn’t know very well. And you and Becky hardly known one another at all. It’s hard telling things you’re ashamed of to people you’re close to, you’re afraid of what they’re going to think. But strangers? They get to hear your whole life story and then disappear into the world, never to be seen again.”

  “But I’m not a stranger,” I said. “Becky knows me.”

  “But you’re not friends,” Jess said as we reached her floor. “And sometimes that’s what makes the whole difference.”

  “If you say so.”

  Becky looked like she’d just gotten out of the shower when we arrived to the unlit dorm. Her hair was soaking wet and her skin looks almost pink from scrubbing it under the hot water. Despite all that, she somehow still managed to look like she’d been through hell and back.

  Her eyes were underlined by dark circles from what I could only assume was a lack of sleep and her eyes themselves were bloodshot and puffy from crying. I felt instant sympathy for her, though I knew I’d never be able to even come close to truly understanding just how violated she must feel—how alone.

  “Hey, Becky,” Jessica said, her voice soft, making every effort to sound comforting. “Richard’s here. He wanted to come by and see if you were okay.”

  At first she didn’t say a word, only glancing at me from the corner of her puffy red eyes as she sat on her bed, swaddled up in a pink bathrobe. I took note of her for a moment, watching the way she sat and how she did her best to seem small, as though trying to avoid the notice of any predators that might just be stalking nearby. Her hands, hidden partially inside of her robe, were scrubbed pink just like the rest of her, and what little I could see of her fingernail told me that she’d been biting them down to the quick. She wasn’t doing well at all, and if she didn’t find a way to talk about it—even if it wasn’t to me—then she was going to have a complete breakdown before the end of the semester.

  “Hi, Richard,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Hey, Becks,” I said, sitting opposite her on Jessica’s bed.

  “I hate it when you call me that,” she muttered, though somewhere I could see a faint tinge of warmth returning to her face, if only for a brief moment. It was comforting to know that somewhere in there the old Becky was still alive… if only barely.

  “I know,” I said, offering a sympathetic smile.

  The warmth faded almost as soon as it had arrived, replaced instead with an angry glare. The change had been so sudden that I was almost taken aback. Becky wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her robe in tight as though to defend herself from—what? Me? I felt a little hurt at the idea that she’d even consider something like that from me, but I had to check my feelings at the door—she was in pain, and when people are in pain they have a habit of lashing out at the ones that try to help.

  “You checked on me. Can you go now?” she asked, turning her gaze away down toward her bed spread. “I just want to be left alone.”

  “I know it’s not really much of a comfort,” I said, “but I’m sorry for what happened.”

  “You’re right, that’s not comforting,” she said, drawing her knees up to her chest, pulling her blankets up around her. “I really don’t want to talk right now.”

  “I know,” I said, leaning forward slightly, “and I understand that. But sooner or later you’re going to need to talk. You’re safe here with me and Jess. We’re not going to judge you.”

  Becky glanced up at me again, her frown still as steady as ever as she swallowed. I knew that she wasn’t angry at Jess or me, but I also knew that she wanted control of her life—something she had felt like she lost after waking up drugged and taken advantage of. I didn’t even know how much of the rape she actually remembered, but hopefully it was enough to figure out who might have done this.

  “I was at a party,” she said, swallowing again to try and remove some of the hoarseness from her voice. “I was with Greg.”

  “Who’s Greg?” I asked.

  “He’s my boyfriend… was my boyfriend,” she corrected. “He and I had gone to a party at one of the fraternities together. Greg’s not a big partier, but he wanted to go that night for some reason—it felt a little weird that he’d actually want to hang around a bunch of drunk frat boys, but he was really determined to go.”

  “Which fraternity?” I asked. It was almost impossible to keep track of all the frats that were having a party on any given night—it was easier to find which ones weren’t partying, honestly.

  “A__, I think. I didn’t really pay attention… there were so many people there,” Becky said, hugging her knees close to her chest. “We went inside and hung out for a while, but I didn’t rea
lly feel like drinking. Greg did, though. He looked so nervous about being there that I thought it was just his social anxiety kicking in. I thought the drinking would make him calm down a little bit.”

  “What else did you do while you were there?” I asked, leaning back on Jessica’s bed as I listened to her recount that night. The fact that this Greg guy had dragged Becky to the party had me suspicious that he might have just been in on the entire thing. I made a note to find whoever this guy was and give him a piece of my mind.

  “Mostly just sat and talked,” she said, her smile returning, if only slightly. “Greg and I started taking dumb pictures of one another after he calmed down. We were being so silly… And that’s when I start losing track of what happened.”

  “But you weren’t drinking?” I asked.

  “I had a Coke, sure,” she said, frowning, her brow furrowed in thought, “but I wasn’t like, drinking drinking. Y’know? I just started to feel really funny after we started taking pictures. I’ve gone over it over and over, and that is where things always start getting fuzzy.

  “I remember Greg talking to someone, but it wasn’t to me,” she said, her eyes closed tight as though focusing on conjuring up the memory. “I… I think it was Michael.”

  “Michael?” I ask, frowning. What the fuck was he doing there, and speaking to Becky’s boyfriend. “What’d he say?”

  “I’m not sure about all of it,” she said, her frown deepening. “He asked about pictures—Michael did, I mean. I thought it was weird that he’d want pictures that Greg and I were taking… I think I said something, and Michael just laughed. Greg handed him something and then I felt someone grab my arm…”

  Greg gave him pictures, I thought, my mind reeling as I realized the implications of what had happened at that party. That little shit must have been in the locker room with me and Jessica. Now Michael has them, and God knows what else.

  I stayed quiet, letting Becky finish her story. She needed to get all of it out, to say it out loud and hear herself say the words. There might never be a time when she ever gets over what was done to her, but at least she could find a way to live with it.