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Authors: Stephanie Brother

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BOOK: Fraud: A Stepbrother Romance
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I really loved that dog! He helped me,
once again, to put some much-needed perspective onto the situation.

There were plenty of other fish, I told
myself.

But, every night for two more weeks, I
thought of Derek, and my missed opportunity with him.

I’d take Alfred for walks, hoping I’d
maybe meet someone who could take my mind even more away from my fantasy life.

No such luck.

In my dreams, in my fantasies, it was
always Derek whose lips touched mine.

Always Derek who would hold me tight,
guiding his massive cock into me.

Always Derek who made me come, riding and
writhing in his strong grip, a ghost lover who never let me down.

 

*****

 

Just being near Derek made me shake with
anticipation.

Ever since we were kids, I had a crush.

When we became old enough to know about
sex, it was always Derek that starred in my innocent fantasies about marriage
and home.

When I became aware of my sexuality, I’d
masturbate to my mental images of him.

In my dreams, he would kiss me, over and
over, everywhere on my body, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. My imagination
cost me many soaked panties when I was young and foolish.

But now, with Derek off to who knew where,
I just felt alone.

I tried to throw myself into my work, and
forget all about the silly fantasy of being able to live with him forever.

 

*****

 

Then, I’d heard that Derek had found a
girl.

I was crushed inside.

The information came from an email I’d
received from Peg.

That bitch!

You could tell she was relishing every
word that sunk the knife deeper and deeper into my heart.

I was completely heartbroken, but what
could I do?

Derek had shown no real interest in me.
He’d lived with me for months, and didn’t make any moves. Why should I be
surprised?

I was just being foolish, wasn’t I?

But, my love for him still wouldn’t be
silent.

I tried to see if he’d put any pictures
on-line, to see my ‘competition’; but Derek didn’t have any social media
presence that I could discover.

The only thing that came up on a search
engine was an obscure article about some Naval exercises where a SEAL team had
apparently had an accident.

One of them had almost died, and the other
five members of the team were rescued because the one who’d almost drowned had
held out as they were helicoptered to the rescue ship.

I saw the photo in the article, and nearly
had a heart attack!

Derek was the SEAL who’d nearly died!

He’d rescued all the others, and was given
a Medal of Honor for his valor.

That son of a bitch had never said a word
to me!

Or anyone else, that I could tell…not even
Peg.

 

*****

 

After that, I fell into another depressed
state.

I worked hard, and my new job gave me
plenty of reasons to not be able to think about Derek.

And then, I had to find another place for
Alfred, because I simply no longer had time for him. I cried harder than any
time I could remember in my life, promising him that I’d be back, once I
finished getting myself to where I needed to be.

He looked at me with those sad eyes, but
he licked my face.

Luckily, I had a beautiful co-worker,
Leslie, who was good with animals, and had the space and time to take Alfred
in. I arranged for his upkeep, and she assured me that Alfred would get along
just fine with her cats, lizards and one creepy tarantula. That last pet made
me wonder about her sanity a bit, but she took it out and let it walk on my
arm. I just about crapped my pants, at first, but soon realized it felt like a
big, hairy mouse. A mouse with eight fucking, hairy legs, but a mouse
nonetheless.

His name was “Peter Parker”, which just
wasn’t right, you know?

Anyway, Leslie promised to look after
Alfred, and she did.

So, I busted my ass, won case after case,
and ended up with a very respectable record in the courtroom. My rate of
conviction was almost 95%, which was good enough to catch the eyes of the
partners in the firm.

I was made a junior partner, and the money
and perks piled up.

My love life was non-existent, because I
was concentrating on my career.

And, to be honest, none of the men I was
meeting could hold a candle to Derek.

Oh, I tried to go out, for some social
interaction, a few times.

I didn’t want any rumors going around that
I was a lesbian, or an old maid or anything.

But, none of the dates I went out on
amounted to anything more than killing time.

I didn’t drink heavily, and I was easily
bored with discussing work or office politics.

I managed to get a few men almost into
bed, but at the last minute, Fate would intervene, and my cell phone might
ring, or theirs would.

There were promises to hook up later, but
they always were just mere words.

 

Chapter 3

 

MEGAN

 

One day, I found myself having too much
time on my hands, and I did some soul-searching.

The end result of that was for me to leave
the firm, and start my own practice.

I went back to Leslie, and Alfred was only
a bit older, but still happy to see me.

I loved him so much, and luckily had
managed to visit him often enough to keep him happy.

Leslie said goodbye to him, but I could
tell he still was mine!

We moved out of the small place I’d had,
and then started to travel around.

I wanted to see where I would settle, and
lived all over the country.

I liked Seattle, after Boston, but the
weather was too damp and dreary for me.

The city was beautiful, and there was
plenty of work, but Alfred wasn’t happy there.

So, we moved to Boulder, and I rented a
cabin for a while.

 

*****

 

Alfred loved Colorado, and we stayed and
played while I worked.

We’d walk the trails and meadows, and he’d
roll in the grass and chase rabbits.

And, it was there that he passed away, one
fine spring day.

He was almost seven, but he’d had some
health problems. There wasn’t any pain.

One morning, he just didn’t wake up.

 

*****

 

I was sadder than I’d been in years, with
the loss of my best friend.

I buried him in the meadow where he’d love
to chase the rabbits.

There was a stream, and flowers in the
field.

I knew he was going to love it there,
forever, always running and having a wonderful time.

“Goodbye, Alfred!” I cried.

My eyes blurred, and I sobbed, missing him
so much.

Only, this time, there was no one there to
lick away my salty tears.

 

*****

 

As the weeks wore on, the memories of
Alfred got to me, so I decided to not renew my lease.

I kicked around for a while, working down
my cases, and finally went to Minneapolis.

All during that time, Derek was in the
back of my mind, but only as a shadow. I had no idea what he was doing, and
even though I knew he was living his exciting life, I secretly wished he’d just
appear in my doorway, one day.

No such luck.

My career was all-consuming.

For the next few years, I worked harder
than I had ever worked at anything.

I won every case I had, and my client list
grew.

I found a favorable reputation as a hard,
but fair attorney, who missed nothing.

I managed to rack up the wins, but it also
increased my case load.

My bank account grew as well, but my time
was given over to work. I was literally married to my career!

Hah!

I would never have imagined that.

 

*****

 

One week, a case brought me south to
Florida, and I liked the weather and excitement of SoBe so much I made a
decision.

I looked over the real estate ads, and
took about a month to find a new home.

I had enough money, so I bought an
expensive apartment in Miami, on Brickell Avenue.

Life was almost perfect.

So, I got another dog.

His name was Nigel.

Nigel was one of those Yorkie kinds of
dogs, all hyper and yappy and fun, and always happy and ready to play. His
favorite toy was an old t-shirt that he’d grab and shake and wrestle like it
was the world’s most dangerous snake, and he had to defeat it.

Watching Nigel tear that thing up made me
laugh.

It felt good, to finally be getting out of
my blues.

 

*****

 

And then, the Robert King trial reared its
ugly head.

King had somehow managed to bilk almost a
billion dollars out of his clients, prospects and not a few rich socialites.

I threw myself into it, and as the facts
presented themselves, knew I was going to win it.

It was a slam dunk.

There was absolutely no doubt.

The evidence was incontrovertible, and the
IRS had records that had come up in discovery that proved fraud beyond the
shadow of a doubt.

King was going down…

 

*****

 

Imagine my surprise, then, when I found
out Peg was ‘dating’ Robert King…

 

*****

 

I’d never really cared who Peg was
fucking.

After Dad had passed, I wanted as little
to do as possible with her, and that little bastard, Blaise.

The way Peg had gone out of her way to
make me miserable, I owed her nothing.

But, her attachment to King made things
different.

I wasn’t sure if I needed to recuse myself
from the case, now.

But, there really wasn’t any legal reason
to do that.

After all, she wasn’t my biological
mother, and I could be professional, right?

I could submerge my hatred of her for the
duration of the trial, right?

After all, this was my biggest case, and I
had it in the bag.

What was there to worry about?

 

*****

 

And then, just like that, “Ike” Turner had
taken my victory and snatched it from me.

Oh well, next case, I guess.

Fuck.

I really hate to lose…

 

Chapter 4

MEGAN

 

About three weeks after the King fiasco, I
was rummaging around some old boxes I had stored when I came across some photos
of Derek and me when we were kids.

It was an unexpected thing, and caught me
a little off-guard.

I remembered the place where we had been
staying, and I also remembered the other people in the photos.

But, in the background of one or two of
them was a fuzzed-out man who seemed to resemble King.

I figured maybe my mind was just playing
tricks on me.

I wasn’t really sure I wasn’t just
projecting my recent defeat onto every little thing in my life, so I carefully
put the photos into my scanner and then enhanced them.

The man might have been Robert King, but
if it was, he still had hair.

And, the way he stood next to Peg made me
feel queasy inside.

How long had she known this man?

The event had been some kind of company
picnic my father and Sam had put on for their employees. It was the typical
affair, with cornhole and beer and a bunch of boring attempts at fun that we
kids always hated.

There was a lake with some inner tubes,
and a rope swing. Good old-fashioned fun, as they say.

It bored all of us, and you could tell,
because almost all the kids had their faces buried in their phones, in most of
the pictures.

I suddenly laughed out loud, because I had
just figured out how weird it was that I had been looking at photographs, and
not digital images, of the event.

Who the hell used film, anymore, anyway?

There were even dates printed on the
photos.

The event had taken place about twelve
years earlier, when I was just fourteen.

(And, when I was about fifty pounds
lighter, I shrugged.)

Nigel came bouncing around the corner,
happy to see me, as always, and wanting his ass rubbed.

It’s weird how all dogs (and most men, I
suppose) like a good ass-rubbing.

I smacked his bottom a couple of times for
good measure, and then he came over and licked my face.

His dog breath was its usual horrible
smell, but I just sighed until he was finished and then went into the bathroom
to wipe my face and hands.

“A ladies’ hands proclaim her habits”,
after all, and I didn’t want to meet up with a client later on with my mitts
smelling like dog poo.

Once I came back to the computer, I
checked my schedule.

Hmmm.

Four more appointments until I could call
it a day.

I had just enough time to make the next
appointment.

I went back into the bathroom, and primped
and brushed my hair.

I avoided the scale, which beeped at me
menacingly.

I had stepped on it about four days ago,
and was dismayed to see I had added another two pounds!

So, doing the only thing that made sense,
I had kicked it then.

It slammed against the toilet, then the
bidet, and then the wall, and had sat there since, beeping its creepy beep.

The wounded scale seemed determined to
remind me that I was ‘pleasantly plump’.

Only, it couldn’t spare that many
syllables; it just kept on making that incessant beeping.

“Fat.” “Fat.” “Fat.” “Bitch.” “You.”
“Kicked.” “Me.” “You.” “Fat.” “Bitch.” “Eat.” “Me.” “Fat.” “Fat.” “Fat.” …

Fuck it.

It’s lucky I didn’t throw it in a tub of
hot, bubbly water.

That would show it who’s boss.

 

*****

 

I took a final glance at the mirror, and
stuck out my tongue at it.

The tongue-stud hole had almost healed.

That had been a huge mistake, and not just
because it hurt like hell.

I never even got to use the damned thing!

I’d figured maybe I could get over Derek
by getting under a new man, (not that I’ve even been under anyone, in that
way).

And, I’d noted all the cute young thangs
at the courthouse were getting nose rings, eyebrow piercings and one would
image other kinds of jewelry in intimate places, based on the number of false
alarms every time they went through security.

I mean, those metal detectors were ALWAYS
going off, and after a while, certain employees just got waved through by the
deputies. I guess maybe they’d had their curiosity satisfied in one manner or
another.

One morning, I asked this dude, named
Williams, why he’d let certain of the female clerks just keep walking after the
alarm, which was a clear violation of protocol.

He just smiled, with his big golden tooth
shining at me.

“Ms. Greene, I have it on good authority
that the young lady in question is not a security risk, and in point of fact,
merely has decided to exercise her God-given right for labial piercings,” he
said. “And, may I add, that not only was the piercing tastefully done, it was
in point of fact, downright tasty!”

He grinned, again, and winked.

I felt his eyes on my caboose all the way
across the lobby, until I made it into my office.

That bastard…

Anyway, I tried striking up some
conversations with a few of the guys around the courthouse, the ones not
obviously gay or married.

I found few of them were interested in an
almost thirty-year old, chubby (voluptuous!), lawyer with a tongue-stud.

So, I bid adieu to the stud, and consigned
it to my junk jewelry box.

That’s the one where I put all the
ostentatious crap I’ve bought over the years, in the hope that it might either
lift my spirits or potentially get me laid.

None of them every worked their supposed
talismanic magic, so I remain chaste and untouched by the hands of man.

Shit.

As if anything was ever going to make me
lose this crazy obsession with Derek.

Yeah, right…

I grabbed my purse and checked my
cell-phone for any last minute texts or emails.

The ones that were new could wait until I
got to work.

I also saw that I had a call from an
unknown number.

They didn’t leave a message, so I deleted
it.

Fucking sales calls…

I put my shades on, took one final glance
at the hall mirror, wiping a bit of lipstick from the corner of my mouth with a
finger as I opened the door.

Nigel came bouncing over in that funny
little way he has, looking like a pull-toy without a string.

Such a cute, silly dog!

I had never intended to get such a breed,
but when I saw him, it was love at first sight.

He came to me, licking my fingers, and
yapping at me in that voice of his.

I checked my watch, and quickly glanced to
make sure he had food and water.

I gave him a kiss, and he panted at me,
and barked again.

I walked to the front of the apartment,
and he followed me dutifully.

Then, I affectionately swatted Nigel away
from the door, and locked it.

I could hear his whining and panting all
the way to the elevator.

Poor thing.

 

*****

 

My Beemer was parked in the garage for the
complex, so I got in and started it up.

As I drove past the gate, I noticed that
the guard was Wernher.

His eyes locked onto me and tracked me as
I drove up to the gate.

I waited while he raised it, and decided
to try a wave today.

Wernher simply nodded slightly as I drove
through.

The gate arm swung down, and I felt Wernher’
s eyes follow me all the way down the street until the garage was out of sight.

We had three guards that rotated shifts
that I knew by name.

There were a lot of temps, as well.

Wernher was difficult to miss.

He was about six feet six, and muscled. He
was probably about seventy-five years old, and looked a lot like those old
geezers you sometimes see in the documentaries about World War Two on the
Discovery or History channel. He had that military air and stance.

He always watched as the cars came and
went, like he was guarding nuclear missiles or UFOs or something.

He didn’t smile.

The uniform they made the guards wear was
nondescript, but the few times I had seen Wernher out of the booth I noticed he
wore it well.

He stood there, almost at attention,
missing nothing. His sharp eyes took it all in, and he would pivot his head and
follow cars like the turret of a tank.

I think he actually memorized all the
numbers on the license plates for ALL the cars that came and went into our
garage!

He was weird, but I oddly felt safe when
he was on station.

The other two guards were Jonny and Raj.

Jonny was a meth-addict, or at least bore
a close resemblance to one. His teeth were horrible, and he smiled too much.

He was thin, almost emaciated, and had a
crew cut of brown hair.

He was nice enough, and always said
“Hello!” when a car stopped at the gate. 

Most of the other tenants liked him,
despite his appearance. He always wore a clean uniform.

He was married to one of the women in the
apartment complex, and rumor had it her father owned the company that supplied
the guards.

Raj was originally from Guyana, born of
Indian parents.

He had been a college professor before he
had been fired for running a website that criticized the University where he
had been employed.

The reasons were specious, and he had made
the local papers with his legal case. I found it mildly interesting, because he
had tried to argue that the real impetus for his losing his job was that he was
openly gay.

The University was a well-known Bible
college, and despite their lip-service towards allowing all manner of people to
find their salvation in Jesus, in reality they had some policies that bordered
on discrimination.

Raj had won a partial victory, though,
because there was a loophole in his contract that was in effect a morality
pledge. He’d glossed it over at the time, because, when he was hired he had
been in an arranged marriage with an Indian woman. He discovered he was gay
about the time he’d discovered she’d been seeing another professor on the side.

Their divorce was cordial, but firm.

He had spent a few months figuring out
some things, and one of those things ended up in his bed, and was named Arturo.

Raj had put up a fight and tried to force
the University to admit it was behind the times, but they countered by
simultaneously bringing up his oath and the website. A judge had sided with the
University, and Raj found himself parking cars.

Arturo and Raj were married a few months
later, and by all accounts, they seemed happy.

I didn’t really care about all this; it
was just some of the gossip that got slung around when doing a load of laundry,
or if you got stuck in an elevator with one of the nosy-Nancy’s that occupied
the building.

But, I admit that I did fantasize that
Wernher was some kind of deep-cover Nazi spy, or maybe an East German Cold-war
leftover who’d been burned by his agency.

All of this was just silly speculation,
but it did keep my mind off of the problem of me and Derek.

But only for a little while…

 

 

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