HUGE X3 : A COLLEGE REVERSE HAREM STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (HUGE Series)
HUGE X3: Chapter 13

My hands are trembling as I stand at the door of the pool house, psyching myself up to knock.  I can hear the chatter of the TV from inside and the twins’ rental car is in the driveway so I know they’re home.  I lick my lips and take a deep breath.

I never knew it was possible to vibrate with need.  To crave something so much that it becomes a physical and emotional ache.  There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t go through with this.  I know I’m on the edge and that the decisions I’m making are reckless in a way that I would never usually consider.  I feel like an addict.  I know what I want isn’t really good for me but I can’t seem to help myself.

I tap on the door lightly.  It feels like a non-committal knock.  A tiny part of my sensible self thinks that if they don’t hear me I have the option to walk away.  I should be at home, resting before my doctor’s appointment tomorrow.  Mom must be worried about me.

No one answers for a while and I take a step back, considering whether to ignore my sensible self and knock again.  Then the handle moves and the door opens to reveal Jason, shirtless and sexy as fuck.  It’s hot and the skin at the center of his chest is glistening slightly.  His green eyes meet mine and I can see him trying to gauge my mood.

“Katelin.” His voice is gruff as though he’s been sleeping.  His hand rubs at his shoulder and I can’t take my eyes off the way his muscles flex under his beautiful golden skin.  He’s waiting for me to say something but there’re no words in my head, only desire.  Desire for him and desire for the oblivion I know he can bring me.

I close the distance between us so quickly that I take him by surprise, hooking my hand behind his neck and pulling him down so I can kiss him.  It’s not soft and gentle but fierce and clawing.  His hands grab me around the ass and haul me against him until my legs are wrapped around his waist, and my hands clutching at his face.

He groans as I grind against him, stumbling us backwards and slamming the door shut.  I’m glad for that.  The last thing I need is another run in with Doug.  I think that Jason will take us into the bedroom but instead he backs towards the couch and when his legs hit the edge, he flops us down.

“Baby,” he growls, holding my face in his huge palms and looking into my dazed eyes.

“Jase,” I say.  “I need…”

“I’ve got you.”  He tugs my hips forward until my pussy is pressed tight against him, then he yells for Austin.

I writhe against Jason’s huge stiffening cock, feeling frenzied and desperate.  His hands grasp at my ass, squeezing so hard I cry out.  Hands tug at my top and for a moment I think they’re Jason’s, then I feel another set of hands on my tits and I know Austin’s behind me.  For a moment I’m lost between them.  It’s as though I can see myself from above, being handled by these two men, never sure who or what is going to happen next.

Austin’s lips press against the base of my spine, then his tongue, licking in a way that’s both lewd and tender.  Jason tugs down the cups of my bra and rolls my nipples, tweaking them so hard I buck.  I can smell the clean scent of his sweat and feel the heat radiating from both of them, at my front and my back.  I’m cocooned and safe in this crazy place between them.

Austin’s hands slip around to my front and takeover where Jason is caressing.  Jason’s hands move to tug my yoga pants over my hips so he can slip his fingers down the front to where I’m aching.  God, I need their touch so much.  Like this I feel strong and alive, raw and connected.  Jason’s fingers are urgent when they find my clit and then slip deeper between my legs.  I’m so wet that he gets two big fingers inside me with next to no effort.  It feels so good that I ride his hand, knowing that I can come like this if Austin keeps squeezing and tugging at my breasts.  I don’t care that it’s selfish.  I haven’t yet touched either of them other than to graze Jason’s chest with my fingers.  This is about what I need and I can feel that they don’t care in the way they’re focused on me with darkened, hooded eyes.

“That’s it…take what you need,” Austin says, putting a hand on my hip and using it to help me grind down against his brother.

“Oh…” I say as he pushes me faster. “That’s it…that’s…”

I come in the fastest time ever, back arching, hands scrabbling for the fabric of Jason’s pants just to I have something to grip onto.  The pleasure is so fast, so surging, that tears spring to my eyes and are squeezed out through my closed lids.  Jason keeps moving his hand slowly and Austin kisses the back of my neck, pushing the mess of curls over my shoulder.

I feel Jason’s free hand stroke my tears away, but I can’t look at him.  Shut in my dark bubble I feel safe, as though I’m somewhere deep where all the other pressures in my world can’t touch me. Then I hear the noise of the door opening behind us, and my moment of peace is shattered.

For a second no one moves, then I hear Bryan.

“Katelin,” he growls in a voice that is filled with pent up rage.

Jason slips his hand from between my legs and gathers my top from where it’s resting over the back of the sofa.  He puts it over my head carefully, and no one says a thing.  I’m so grateful that their main focus is on getting me decent so I can face Bryan.  My heart is pounding but it isn’t because of any regret I feel.  It’s because I can finally hear something else in Bryan’s voice.

Possession.

All this time he’s been almost apologetic about his feelings, but I can sense the difference.

I start to stand and Austin steps back to let me disentangle myself from Jason.  When I turn, Bryan is standing with his hands gripping either side of the door frame, like he needs to restrain himself.

“What?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips.

Bryan’s nostrils flare and his jaw ticks angrily.  Good, I think.  About fucking time he showed some passion.

“You left the hospital.  I didn’t know where the fuck you were.”

“I was here.” I know it’s surly to state the obvious but I can see my attitude is poking at Bryan’s self-control.

“I can see that,” he says.

“So, now you found me.” I take a step forward, bringing us closer and he leans in, closing the gap a little more.  There are still a few feet between us, but we feel close, connected almost by the vibrating rage between us.  I can see the jealousy in his expression, when he glances at his half-clothed brothers and at me, standing bra-less in front of him with cheeks that are flushed from my orgasm.

I don’t know what I expect him to do.  I think that maybe if I can poke him enough he’ll kiss me hard.  After so long waiting, I need him to fight for me.  I need him to stake his claim in a way that isn’t a sweet kiss in my best friend’s driveway but a desperate, almost violent action generated by the heat of our anger and frustration.

When he steps through the door I think I’m going to get what I crave so badly that I’m shaking.  Instead, he channels all that rage and smashes his fist against the door, yelling expletives as he does.

We all stand for a few seconds that feel like minutes, trapped in shock at the smear of blood against the white painted wood and at Bryan’s back that is heaving with his fast breathing.

“Fuck,” Austin says behind me.  I take a step forward, and raise my hand to touch Bryan’s shoulder gently, but before I can, I hear footsteps on the pathway outside.

My heart sinks when I see that it’s Doug.  He must have been in the yard and heard the shouting.  His face is raging, much like his sons.

“What the hell,” he shouts, looking between me, the twins and Bryan who is now standing, clutching his bleeding fist.

“Leave it, dad,” Bryan says in a low warning.

Doug doesn’t seem to gauge the situation very well because he starts yelling ‘what the fuck is going on’ and then calling us all sick for doing what we’re doing and that we’re all going to be related soon and it’s disgusting.

The twins stay silent but I can see from the stiffening of their postures and the balling of their fists that they’re mad as hell.  I’m about to lose my shit when Bryan turns to face his father head on.

“You know what,” he growls, “I’m sick of your shit.  I’m sick of you telling me what to do all the time.  I’m sick of your rules about what’s okay and what isn’t.  For two years I’ve done what you asked.  I’ve put aside my own relationship for the sake of yours.  I’ve lost the girl that I love because you want to control my life.”

“You don’t know what’s best for you. You’re just a kid.” Doug says through gritted teeth. “You want to bring shame on this family.  All of you. But I won’t allow you.”

“You won’t allow me?” Bryan says as though he’s chewing over the words in his mind.

Doug turns to me.  “Katelin, you need to get your things and go home.”

“Stay where you are,” Bryan tells me, stepping forward so he’s between me and his dad.  “You don’t get to tell her what to do.”

“What do you think your mom would think if she knew what you were doing?”

For a moment I feel a swell of shame at Doug’s words but then I’m mad.  Mad that our society is so stringent in defining what is acceptable and what is wrong and mad that a man who barely knows me can presume to know anything about my relationship with my mom.

“I think that maybe she’d think that life is short and you have to seize every moment.  And she’d know that I’m not stupid, that I know my own mind and what is right for me, and that it isn’t her place to live my life for me.  She has her own life to live, her own mistakes to make.  This is MY LIFE.”

Doug looks a little shocked at my outburst and no one moves for a second.

“You need to leave, Dad,” Bryan says.

“You listen to me…”  Doug starts to say.  I see Bryan’s right arm tensing, his fist flexing, and for a terrible moment I think he’s going to hit his father.  Austin, who is closest to his brother, steps forward as though he’s thinking the same thing.

“Bryan,” I whisper.

I think it’s my voice that triggers it.  He strides forward and I go to take hold of his t-shirt but miss.  Everyone in the room seems to suck in a horrified breath at the same time but then Bryan bumps his father’s shoulder as he walks past and heads out the door.  He moves so fast that for a moment I’m paralyzed, then I’m running after him, bare feet sore on the hot path.  Bryan’s heading toward his car and I make it to the passenger side as he’s sliding himself into the driver’s seat.  He seems surprised that I’m there but he doesn’t wait for either of us to buckle up before he’s put the car in reverse and we’re flying away from the house at dangerous speed.  For the second time that day his knuckles are whitened from gripping the steering wheel too tight.

I know where we’re heading immediately.  Barton Hill’s.  I guess Bryan must have taken the twins up there before they took me.  I didn’t realize it was a go-to place for him, but then I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. There seems to be an awful lot that I don’t know about this man.  The drive is so silent but I can’t bring myself to speak.  I don’t know what to say at all and he’s still breathing fast and tense.  I’m worried that anything I say is going to distract him from driving and I want to get there in one piece.

He parks in the same place as the twins did, but facing out to the view.  Then he switches off the ignition.

We sit staring at the gorgeous scenery for a few moments.  I can’t look at him for all the uncertainty between us.

“Katy,” he says gruffly.  He’s the only one who calls me that and it makes my skin prickle to hear the softness underlying his tone.

I turn to look at him and am greeted by piercing green eyes filled with so much confused longing that my heart hurts.  For a long moment we look at each other, then he leans towards me fast, pulling me into a kiss that is so ferocious it hurts.

There is nothing tender in the way he claims me, mouth forcing my lips to part for his tongue that penetrates my mouth desperately.  His hands grasp my face, angling my head so he can get deeper, controlling the way we move together.  He moans frantically, leaning over me and slipping one hand up my t-shirt.  When he finds my bare breast he groans long and low, worrying the nipple with his big calloused thumb and finger.

I call out his name, when he grips me at the waist, hauling me towards him until I’m straddling his lap with the steering wheel at my back.  Looking at him eye to eye is so intense that I shiver.  His usually sparkly green irises are blackened with widened pupils and a longing so fierce that I reel.  We sit, panting, watching, waiting.  Seconds tick by as the threads between us seem to tug harder and harder.  He reaches up to touch my lips, my neck, the skin of my forearm, as though he’s mapping my body for later reference.  He links his hand with mine, entwining our fingers and holding onto me tightly.  I stare at the place we’re joined, waiting.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and I jolt in surprise.

“What for?”

“For hurting you.  For keeping things from you.  For putting my father and his stupid ideas before you when all along this should have been my priority.”  He strokes my cheek, then moves his hands to my thighs and squeezes.

“You should have told me,” I say quietly, resting my hands on his chest.  You know we could have worked it through.”

“It just didn’t seem fair at the time, and then as more months passed I just couldn’t get past the fact that you’d be mad at me for keeping things from you. The lies seemed too big to forgive.”

I sigh because I know how he feels.  For so long I pretended that Bryan meant nothing to me that when I wanted to talk to my friends about how I really felt, I didn’t know how to admit I’d been covering things up all along.

“It just seems like such a waste,” I say.

“It doesn’t have to be anymore.”

Bryan slides his hands up my thighs and over my hips, pushing his hands back up my t-shirt, seeking out the nipples he’d made into points just minutes earlier.  He holds my gaze, waiting, watching to see how I’ll react.  I don’t know what any of this means. His confessions seem to suggest he’s regretful for the lost years between us, but is he saying he wants us to be something serious?

And how can he when he knows what’s been going on with Jase and Austin?

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, pushing my hair over my shoulder and then lifting my top over my head.  It’s warm in the car but I get goose bumps all over as he uses the tips of his fingers to trace patterns over my skin.  “So pretty.”

“Bryan…” I say his name because it’s all I can form as he slips his hands into the back of my yoga pants and drags me until I’m set against the hard bulge in his jeans.  I get a flashback of the feeling when Jason had done the same, only an hour earlier.  They’re so alike that sensations and images blur.

When I’m with the twins that blurring of hands and mouths, cocks and words, doesn’t feel wrong. It feels totally right, like the most unbelievable immersion into the experience of being worshiped by two men.  Now, with Bryan, it feels strange.  Not wrong as such but unsettling.  When I look into his eyes I see his brothers, when I feel his hands, I feel his brothers.  I don’t know when it happened and I don’t know how I feel about it.

He squeezes my ass and grinds me harder and I have to hold his shoulders to feel grounded enough to kiss him.  I get lost in the press of his lips, the stroke of his tongue.  In a strange way it feels like coming home to be with him like this.

I remember days lying on the grass on campus, pretending to study when really it was an excuse to listen to him talk.  It never really mattered what it was about, just that we always seemed to click, even when we disagreed.  I remember nights at Sam’s Pizza, with all our friends, but somehow Bryan would always end up sitting across from me so we could share our favorite pepperoni with extra jalapenos and a whole ton of cheesy garlic bread.  I remember days when he’d drop me at home after we’d hung out too long at the university coffee shop and he’d keep making conversation until I’d realize we’d been sitting outside my house for an hour.  I remember how kind he was when Auntie Marie passed away.  His own mom had died when he was a kid so I guess that’s what made him so empathetic.

As I kiss him, I want to remind him of those times that meant so much to me, but I don’t.  Every tender touch makes me believe that he remembers too.  It’s me who moves it on another base by reaching for his belt.  I’m so hot and achy between my legs and in my heart.  I’ve waited so long to feel the pulsing heat of his heavy cock in my hands.  Bryan groans when he realizes what I’m doing, his eyes on my hands as I fumble with the buckle and then move to his button and fly.  When I part his jeans to reveal bright white tight boxers concealing a rigid cock that looks like a baton, I suck in a breath.  I don’t take it out right away.  Just pressing my palm against the heat of it is enough to make me sigh.

“Katy,” Bryan says, his voice vibrating with need.

“You want me to touch it?”

“I want you to do whatever you want to do,” he says.

What I want to do is strip off my yoga pants and ride him until I come.  I want to see the ripple of his abs as he seeks his pleasure, to feel the thrusting of his hips beneath me, urging me to move faster and harder.  I want to kiss his lips and taste his satisfaction when he comes deep inside me.  Most of all I want to know what this all means, but that’s the part I know I’m not ready for.  While Bryan’s kissing me, he can’t talk.  He can’t tell me how he feels and he can’t ask me either.  We can focus on the physical because that’s the easy part.  The rest involves more than I can deal with.

I tell him to move the seat back to give me enough room to take my yoga pants off.  I leave my panties on though because it feels too much to strip naked in a car in a field.  When I settle myself back, Bryan traces the pink lace edging with a feather light touch, then runs his index finger down from my navel, over the smooth black satin of my panties until he’s pressing directly onto my clit.

“You’re so swollen, baby,” he says softly.  “Does it ache here?”

I nod and roll my hips against that single point of pleasure.

“Tell me,” he orders.

“It hurts,” I say.  “Make it better.”

He puts his finger in his mouth to wet it, then tugs the fabric of my panties to the side so he can see where to touch.  The first press of that cool, moist finger to my clit makes me jump.  Bryan holds my hip firmly with his other hand – the one that’s still bloody from his frustrated punch – as though he wants me to be still.  He touches me with cool concentration and I heat up so quickly I feel as though I might burst into flames.  I pull at the waist band of his boxers and wrap my hand around the delicious girth of his cock, and then there is nothing cool about his touch anymore.  He’s so hard and smooth and warm, and so similar in size to his brothers that for a moment I’m blown away.

“God, I want to be inside you so bad,” he growls, pushing a finger up inside me and making my rise up on my knees.

I tell him to ‘do it’ and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet and the condom I’m assuming he has in there for moments like this.  Moments when you can’t help but give in to the physical cravings that are capable of overriding everything else.  I help him roll the latex down the full length of him, pressing against the root and stroking over his amazing abs.

I distract myself with his golden skin, the little happy trail of soft light brown hair that runs from his tight little belly button to his towering cock.  I pretend this is like it was at first with the twins.  A chance to scratch an itch or, as Auntie Marie would have urged, an opportunity to seize a moment that might never arise again.

When I raise up to position myself over him so that the flared head of his cock rests at my entrance, I close my eyes.  In my own safe, dark space I can push myself down slowly.  I can work it so my pussy can take all of his thickness and length.  I can hold onto his shoulders and roll my hips in the way my body craves.  I can pretend that this is all about pleasure and nothing else.

Bryan grunts when I bottom out.  He says my name as I start to ride him harder and faster, grinding my clit against the scratchiness of the hair between his legs.  I breath in his scent and I feel safe, beautiful, alive.

And when I come, he comes too, with his face buried between my breasts, panting violently against my heart that feels more bruised than it ever has before.

“Katy,” he says, as though he can’t quite believe that I’m really there, in his arms.  Then, just as I fear how I’m going to deal with what comes next, my phone begins to ring in my purse.

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