HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance (19 page)

I
don’t think I’ve ever found a face so fascinating. The more I study his angular
cheekbones and full lips that seem to be fixed permanently into a serious line,
the more I want to look.

I lean
in closer to him to give him a better view down my dress. "Am I free to
go?"

"Sorry,
Miss. I'm going to need you to walk the line." He points to the solid line
on the side of the road, not sounding sorry at all.
 
In fact, he sounds a little bit pleased with
himself, as though this is part two of his repertoire of ways to check me out.
First, he gets the feels, now he’s after a good look at my ass.

I know
I can do this because I’m sober as a judge, but it feels humiliating. Still, I
don’t want to let him see my reluctance. "I'll walk anything for
you," I say, tossing him a grin over my shoulder as I step over to the
line. "Any particular way you want me to walk it?"

"Straight,"
he says with no hint of amusement.

I put
one foot in front of the other, swaying my hips as I go.

"Toe
to toe, please."

I turn
around and frown at him and he shrugs but his lips twitch again.

"Fine,"
I say, sounding as pissed as I am.

I walk
toe to toe and after a few feet, I turn around. "Shall I touch my finger
to my nose now?"

"I
don't think that will be necessary," he says condescendingly.

Now
that the test is over I sway my hips as I walk back to him, taking up a relaxed
position, leaning against my car. If this was a different day and he wasn’t a
cop I’d be so damn tempted to hook one of my legs around his and pull him in
closer. I bet he’d be a great kisser.
 
Those lips look so soft.

"What
else can I do for you, Officer?" I ask.

My
meaning is clear and his eyes seem to flash with desire for just a second. His
mouth turns up into the smallest grin I've ever seen and I wonder how many
women flirt with him when he pulls them over. Even if I'd done nothing wrong
and wasn't trying to get out of a ticket I’d be tempted to flirt like crazy
with him.

"I
think that will be all for tonight."

He
opens my door for me and I slide into the driver’s seat as gracefully as
possible. When my legs are safely inside he closes the door and leans in the
window.

"I'll
let you off with a warning tonight."

Relief
washes over me. "No ticket?"

"No
ticket. But don't speed again, Allyson. I'd hate to have to take you in."

"I
promise,” I say and on the spur of the moment I kiss the tips of my fingers and
press them to his lips. It’s like touching a statue. Even that isn’t enough to
make him smile. “You be good, now,” he says and turns to head back to his car.
I watch him walking away in my side mirror. There’s that swagger again that I
know I won’t forget. It’s a swagger that makes me want to be bad, not good.

2

ALLYSON

The
house is dark as I navigate my way upstairs. I don't turn on the hall light in
case my mother's door is open. I think she’s home and I don't want to wake her
and endure questions that I’m not in any fit state to answer right now.

My
legs are still trembling.

I
tiptoe past my mother's room and hurry through my nightly ritual. I’m so glad
to be home after what happened. Going back to my dorm room just didn’t feel
right, but I don’t want to think about the reasons why.

I
allow thoughts of Officer Carlisle to fill my mind. The memory of the traffic
stop makes my hands shake as I brush my teeth. Things could have gone so much
worse if Officer Carlisle had been stricter. Thinking about it, things could
have gone so much better if I'd been bolder and Officer Carlisle had been a
dirtier cop. Trust me to find the only good one in town.

He
might be a good cop, but he looked like a bad boy. I saw the edges of the
tattoo he has around his bicep. Maybe he has more hidden under his uniform.

I
imagine him in casual clothes; jeans and a t-shirt that would show off his
great physique. I’m grateful for the distraction he’s provided me. I need other
things to think about that don’t make my palms sweat with panic.

I make
my way to my childhood bedroom. Mom always keeps it clean and tidy, the sheets
and comforter freshly washed. She knows I like to come home when I can. I sit
on the bed to take off my heels and then stand to slip off my dress. As it
drops to the floor I remember the way Officer Carlisle’s hands felt against my
skin; big, rough, capable. My nipples perk up as the material of the dress
grazes them. My bad boy cop had been careful to avoid the best bits when he was
frisking me, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering what his hands would have
felt like on my breasts. Those large rough palms squeezing and bringing my
nipples into hard peaks with a flick of a thumb.

I hang
the dress in the closet, take off my makeup, and look for a pair of pajamas.
The blue silk ones will feel good against my skin so I pull those on, turn my
bedroom light off and fold the blankets down on my bed.

 
The house is completely quiet. So quiet my own
breathing sounds loud in the darkness. In the silence, my thoughts drift back
to the party. The memories are dark and the reality of my situation so dreadful
that my heart picks up its pace in a flash. What have I gotten myself into? So
stupid. So careless. I should have learned my lesson a long time ago.

Men
can’t be trusted to protect you.

They
only care about you when it suits them, and then they turn on you. A flash of a
cold night, many years ago, comes into my mind. A dark looming man with a
contorted face stands over my mom, one hand around her neck, the other balled
into a fist at his side.

I take
a deep breath and hold it, trying to regain control of myself. I’m weighed down
by ghosts of the past and present and my fears for how they will impact my
future. The burden of it all feels so heavy.

When I
was little my mom told me that how I feel is my choice. She said if I let my
worries grow in my mind, they’ll become too big to deal with. She taught me to
imagine a box, open a lid, put my worries inside and close the lid. I had a lot
of worries after that big man left us alone.

I do
it now, heaping everything that happened at the party tonight and trying to
seal it away. There’s a part of me that’s always doubted how healthy it is to
do this. I know that therapists want their patients to talk about their
troubles and, by doing so, accept the reality of their situation.

But I
can’t.

I just
can’t.

The
silly glow-in-the-dark stars that I fastened to my bedroom ceiling when I was
about nine shine down on me and I focus on the smallest one. I think about the
assignment I’m working on and plan it out a little in my head, but the
distraction doesn’t keep the top of the box in place. I see a flash of Drew’s
face in my mind, my father’s closed fist, the fear in my mom’s eyes, and have
to shake my head vigorously to displace it all.

I
think about Officer Carlisle’s serious mouth and eyes that shone with something
that I couldn’t seem to determine. I was so brazen with him and it’s not like
me to put myself out there like that. I think about why I was different
tonight. I was on edge for sure, and in a tight situation, but that isn’t
everything. It was him.

The
man was hotter than fire.

I
momentarily feel guilty for my attempts to manipulate him. Using my womanly
attributes seems cheap now that I’m alone in my bed. It was worth it, though,
to avoid a ticket.

Sad
that I'll probably never see him again, I lay, waiting for sleep to claim me,
but every time I let my mind drift it goes to unpleasant places. I focus on the
memory of Officer Carlisle’s hands on me again. I close my eyes and think about
him because the alternative is too dark and scary. While the touch of his hands
on my legs was moan inducing, I would have liked more than the light caress he
gave me. I would have liked to see more than the slight twitch of his lips into
an almost grin. I’d love to know what he’d be capable of if he would just let
out the bad boy that I thought I saw in his eyes.

I
start to fantasize, letting my mind return to the place at the side of the
road. I see myself facing my car as instructed with my hands pressed against
the roof. Officer Carlisle is behind me running his hands up the outside of my
legs tantalizingly slow. Every inch of my skin that he touches comes alive.
Heat rushes to the spot and a shiver races up my body. I ache between my legs
so badly, but this time, instead of maintaining his professionalism, he allows
his thumbs to brush over my panties. My knees feel close to buckling, the cool
air caressing between them a contrast to his hot fingers. I stiffen, not sure
what to do, or what to say? Surely an officer of the law wouldn’t be so bold at
a routine traffic stop.

"You
like that, don't you?” he mutters. “You want me to push a finger into that
tight pussy.”

"No,
Officer,” I say. “I don't want that." The words sound hollow, and I don’t
move away.

"You
can't fool me.” His breath is hot on the back of my thigh. He’s so close I’m
sure he must be able to smell how aroused I am.

"Honestly,
I don't like it. You can't do that." I pretend to look around frantically
for help.

"You’re
lying, Allyson. I can feel your heat and I can smell how much you want it. I
can take you right here and no one will stop me."

God,
his voice. The rough tone of it combined with a hint of desperation. He sounds
close to losing control and it turns me on so much. I don’t want him to know,
though. I pretend I don't want the things that he’s saying. I pull away
slightly to force him to move closer. He caresses me again and I shiver, biting
my lip to stop a moan from escaping.

"Please
stop, Officer Carlisle. I won't speed again. I promise."
 

He
stands up behind me, so tall and broad his presence is like a wall at my back.
He chuckles in my ear, his hot breath sending another shiver through me.

"Why
should I stop? You want this. You want me. If you didn't want it, you wouldn't
have been speeding along this stretch of road."

"I
didn't mean to be speeding. Please don't do this." I lean back ever so
slightly to be closer to him. My pussy throbs for attention, the teasing
caresses driving me crazy.

"You
still need to be taught a lesson." He strokes my thighs once more and I
hear him chuckle when I tremble.

"You're
scaring me." I say, my voice breathless.

"You
should be scared. I’m checking for weapons and I know you’ve got something bad
here." He grips my thighs to pull my legs apart even more. I lean into the
car, my hands still splayed on the roof. "I know you're hot for me,
Allyson. I can tell when I do this." He runs a finger up my thigh until
he's almost touching my pussy.

My
thighs quiver and my pussy is wet with wanting. My whole body is alight with
longing. I ache to be filled, hoping he'll follow through with the taunts. The
heat from his body seeps into my back blocking out a cool night breeze.

"Officer,
please, don't touch me like that."

"Like
what? This?" He trails a finger along my thigh just below my pussy. The
teasing gesture makes my pussy hunger for him even more.

He’s
in no hurry, despite how exposed we are. His finger slowly strokes along the
seam of my panties, nudging them to the side in such tiny increments that I
almost don’t notice what he’s doing until I’m fully exposed. He slips that same
finger through the soft fold of my pussy, parting everything so explicitly that
my legs almost give way. When he finally pushes his finger deep inside me, I
suck in a noisy and desperate sounding breath. Oh god, it feels so good. It
shouldn’t but it does.

I bite
my lip to keep from moaning, to keep the charade of my resistance going.
 

"You’re
so wet, Allyson. Wet for me?"

"No,
not for you."

He
plunges his finger in deeper, sliding in easily because I'm so slick.

"I
can tell you want me, Allyson." He fingers me faster and despite myself, I
lower my hips to take him.

"No,
I don't want you."

The
lie falls from my lips easily because I know he won't listen. He won't stop
what he’s doing. He'll keep probing inside me, violating me, just the way I
like it. He pushes a second finger into me, stretching my walls. I bite back a
groan, force myself not to bend my legs to drive his fingers further inside me.

"Yes,
you do."

The
rasp of his zipper makes my eyes flutter closed. I tremble again, waiting for
his next move, knowing what it will be and eager to have his cock between my
legs.

"I'm
big, Allyson, but I know you can take me. I'm going to force you to open you
right up." He almost growls the words and a real shiver of fear runs
through me. If he’s as big as I imagine, maybe it’ll hurt.

Not
able to move, I wait. He takes his fingers out of my pussy and I already miss
the intrusion. I need him to fill me, fuck me, take me as hard as he wants. He
slips his dick between my legs and my juices coat him. I lean over slightly to
give him better access even as I say, "Don't, please."

He
teases me, nudging the opening of my body with his cock, rubbing it back and
forth between my lips but not plunging deep like I want him to. I can't ask him
to take me. I'm not supposed to like this. I've been protesting since the first
caress. I force myself to stay still, wondering when he'll do what he’s been
threatening.

"Can
you feel that, baby?” he mutters in my ear.
 
“I'm coated in your juices because you want me so bad, don’t you? You
want me to fuck you so hard."

I’m so
turned on I can hardly breathe. I sag against the car, feeling weak with
desire. Officer Carlisle shifts slightly behind me, as though he might be
considering pulling away. "No, I don't. I want you to stop," I blurt,
hoping my words will keep him in the game.

He
reaches up and cups my breast, flicking the nipple into a hard peak. As he
rolls it between his thumb and finger, sending a jolt of electricity to my
pussy, he laughs in my ear. I love his laugh and the way it makes me feel so
worthless and humiliated. His breath is hot on my neck; intimidating. I want to
beg him to fuck me hard, to stick his big dick inside me as deep as he can get
it. I want him to knock the breath from my lips and the sense from my head. All
that matters is the ache in my pussy that can only be eased with his help.

"What
are you going to do to stop me?" His whisper in my ear sends a shiver
through me because, even if I really did want to stop him, there would be no
fighting him off. Officer Carlisle is a mountain of a man; brute strength and
pure force combined.

The
head of his cock feels so big at my entrance. He cants his hips, nudging and
nudging, and my pussy gets wetter and greedier with every move. Oh, I want him
to push harder, to drive it into me, to split me open just like he
promised.
 
He grips my hips harder,
fingers digging into my soft flesh, and thrusts until his cock breaches the
tight entrance of my cunt and he slides right in deep.
 
It feels so amazing, like cool lemonade on a
hot summer's day and a million other amazing clichés I could think of. I moan,
in my fantasy and in reality too, as my hand slips into my silk pajama bottoms
and the tip of my finger finds my clit. I rub in slow circles as I imagine the
length of him filling me and owning me.
 
It feels so good I can't stop.

With
one hand still groping my breast, fantasy Officer Carlisle jerks his hips up as
he pumps hard, my pussy gripping him tight.

The
force of his thrusts push me into the car and it rocks slightly as Officer
Carlisle fucks me. The metal is cool against my skin, soothing, keeping me cool
enough to enjoy the heat of the sex. He keeps thrusting, my protests completely
gone from my mind now. How could I have denied him this, denied myself this?