FIERCED 3: Finale of the Stepbrother Raider Romance Series by Stephanie Brother Page B
Authors: Stephanie Brother
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inviolate rule in the raider's club, something like the army guys live by. Never leave a man behind enemy lines. I could kid myself she was safe all I wanted but I couldn't hide the truth behind my own fears. I left Lisa back there, alone with him. Her asshole father. And my self-obsessed mother. The two narcissists joined in unholy wedlock would make everyone in their orbit fucked up in a very short time.
Monica had used me as her mini-man between her many husbands. And then some new asshole would come along and she'd fall madly in real love, claiming this was the one after about ten minutes of bullshit chit chat. I can't even count the number of husbands she's had. My father lasted seven and a half months– not even long enough to meet me. And between every jerk since then, I was picked up and tossed over like a puppet. My mother's little puppet boy.
I looked out towards Africa and there she was.
Lisa.
So serious about capturing the new world she was finally discovering. Capturing her images and presenting them so the world would take a little notice. Make some fucker give a shit about other people instead of lining up for the latest piece of shit gadget or the latest stupid shoes.
There she was. Talking to the women of the tribe and really listening, not just because she thought someone was watching. I watched her for long periods of time without her seeing me. Her small hands wrapped tight around her camera, huge eyes taking everything in, snapping small events, inspiring faces and imprinting everything to memory. I watched her making friends with women who had even less idea about her than she had about them and all the time, her beautiful, perfect body drove my cock into a frenzy.
She was in my mind, my body, yeah it's stupid but she was even there in my soul. I could run as far as I could but I'd never escape her.
I knew I was using her jealous outburst as an excuse to get away.
And I left her back there.
It was easier to run away like always. Easy to convince myself I had somewhere better to be and pointing the front wheel ahead to the open road is my reason. The instant I kick back the stand and the engine pulls out from under me, every tension flows from my muscles, I can forget it all and relax into my freedom again.
Chapter TWO
Lisa
I wake up in the darkest hour, covered in icy sweat and shaking. For a moment I'm back in the tent with the women around me before realizing I'm merely alone in my room, without the support and solidarity of the tribe.
I'm completely alone and Rocco is gone. And my biggest dread is for the fact that I'm never going to see him again. His constant traversing of the desert is incredibly dangerous and he could be taken by those guerillas any time. They may even be out waiting for him after his enraged rescue of me and beating of one of their own.
Nausea rises and prickles rising the length of my arms make me shiver harder. I'm trapped here again after he showed me a way out and the passion I want in my life. The thought of him not coming back is intolerable.
When I come too again, light is pouring into the room where Monica has instructed one of the maids to open the drapes because, god forbid she might have to exert herself. The effort might chip her perfect nail polish.
“Up, up, up, your bath is waiting,” she says in that overly sweet voice. “Did you not try your gown for tonight? I had it sent over from Dolce.” With a flick of those fingernails toward the packages, the maid hustles across the room to pick them all up from where I swept them to a heap on the rug.
“Monica, aren't you upset that Rocco's gone, banned from our happy family home?” I murmur, unable to comprehend how a mother can be so nonchalant.
“Rocco's always gone, baby girl. That's his temperament. You however will stay with your parents for always now, won't you? We have so much to accomplish to support your father in his dream.”
“He has a dream?”
“He does now. He's
Monica had used me as her mini-man between her many husbands. And then some new asshole would come along and she'd fall madly in real love, claiming this was the one after about ten minutes of bullshit chit chat. I can't even count the number of husbands she's had. My father lasted seven and a half months– not even long enough to meet me. And between every jerk since then, I was picked up and tossed over like a puppet. My mother's little puppet boy.
I looked out towards Africa and there she was.
Lisa.
So serious about capturing the new world she was finally discovering. Capturing her images and presenting them so the world would take a little notice. Make some fucker give a shit about other people instead of lining up for the latest piece of shit gadget or the latest stupid shoes.
There she was. Talking to the women of the tribe and really listening, not just because she thought someone was watching. I watched her for long periods of time without her seeing me. Her small hands wrapped tight around her camera, huge eyes taking everything in, snapping small events, inspiring faces and imprinting everything to memory. I watched her making friends with women who had even less idea about her than she had about them and all the time, her beautiful, perfect body drove my cock into a frenzy.
She was in my mind, my body, yeah it's stupid but she was even there in my soul. I could run as far as I could but I'd never escape her.
I knew I was using her jealous outburst as an excuse to get away.
And I left her back there.
It was easier to run away like always. Easy to convince myself I had somewhere better to be and pointing the front wheel ahead to the open road is my reason. The instant I kick back the stand and the engine pulls out from under me, every tension flows from my muscles, I can forget it all and relax into my freedom again.
Chapter TWO
Lisa
I wake up in the darkest hour, covered in icy sweat and shaking. For a moment I'm back in the tent with the women around me before realizing I'm merely alone in my room, without the support and solidarity of the tribe.
I'm completely alone and Rocco is gone. And my biggest dread is for the fact that I'm never going to see him again. His constant traversing of the desert is incredibly dangerous and he could be taken by those guerillas any time. They may even be out waiting for him after his enraged rescue of me and beating of one of their own.
Nausea rises and prickles rising the length of my arms make me shiver harder. I'm trapped here again after he showed me a way out and the passion I want in my life. The thought of him not coming back is intolerable.
When I come too again, light is pouring into the room where Monica has instructed one of the maids to open the drapes because, god forbid she might have to exert herself. The effort might chip her perfect nail polish.
“Up, up, up, your bath is waiting,” she says in that overly sweet voice. “Did you not try your gown for tonight? I had it sent over from Dolce.” With a flick of those fingernails toward the packages, the maid hustles across the room to pick them all up from where I swept them to a heap on the rug.
“Monica, aren't you upset that Rocco's gone, banned from our happy family home?” I murmur, unable to comprehend how a mother can be so nonchalant.
“Rocco's always gone, baby girl. That's his temperament. You however will stay with your parents for always now, won't you? We have so much to accomplish to support your father in his dream.”
“He has a dream?”
“He does now. He's
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