Dirty Little Secrets: A Stepbrother Romance

by Landish, Lauren

  “Must have been a very heavy light,” Dad said, and I heard the confusion and suspicion in his voice, but it wasn’t high enough for him to act on it. I love my father, but in the years since stepping mostly into executive work at his law firm and devoting himself to his community work, he’d lost his edge in some areas, bullshit detection being one of them. “You sure you don’t want to get it looked at?”

  “It’s fine, Derek, I already iced it down and I can see fine. Seriously, guys, it’s okay,” Alix replied, smiling a sweet smile that made my instincts bark all the more. Alix was hiding something, that was for sure.

  “Well, if you’re sure, honey,” Layla said. “Can I at least help you with your bags? Did you bring any?”

  “I did,” Alix replied. “That I could use a hand with. Thanks.”

  Layla and Dad went with Alix out the front door, and I hung back a moment. As soon as they were gone I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit speed dial. It was only about five thirty, and while I figured Vince might have taken off for the weekend, I knew he carried his phone with him all the time.

  I was right—Vince picked up in only two rings. “Hey Kade, what’s going on?”

  Vince knew I wouldn’t be the one initiating a call unless there was a serious reason for it, and he was all business from the beginning. It was time to put Vince’s instincts on the trail, whether I was mixing business with family or not. A bitch to her mother, sure. An ungrateful stepdaughter? Absolutely. But that didn’t mean she deserved to be abused, and what was on her face was a textbook abusive beat down.

  “Vince, I need to you to track something down for me. I don’t have a lot of info, so just start with this and if I find out more I’ll send it along. You know my stepsister, Alix Nova, right?”

  “You’ve mentioned her,” Vince said. Vince was a fan of the model type, although he struck out frequently with them whenever he had a chance to talk to one. “But yeah, I know who you’re talking about. Why?”

  “I need to know more about a photo shoot she was involved with today. She said it was for Men’s Health. I want to know who else was there, and what happened there today. Think you can do that?”

  “Timeline?” Vince asked.

  “Send me what you can find out by midnight. I’ll touch base again Monday at noon,” I replied. “Sorry if I’m interrupting Friday night plans.”

  “Not a problem. Is this a billable thing, or no?”

  “No, no tracking of hours. Just a bonus next paycheck from my pocket.” While there were certain risks to not telling Vince it was for a client, specifically that it didn’t incur attorney client privilege, I’m not in the habit of lying to my employees if at all possible. “Think you can get something?”

  “Let me get on it. I’ve got a frat brother down in Los Angeles in the publishing industry. Maybe he can get me some information.”

  I saw Alix, Layla and Dad walking back in from the front and I quickly ended the call, putting my phone away as the door opened. “Sorry guys, I got a call from the office. Nothing major, just a client who needed their hand held on a contract negotiation.”

  “Oh? Anything pressing?” Dad asked, a bit of anxiousness in his voice. I smiled and shook my head, putting him at ease.

  “Not at all. The guy’s still got nearly a season and a half left on his current deal,” I said, quickly pulling a client profile out of my head but carefully avoiding saying any names. “He just wants to get more guaranteed money locked in before the trade deadline. He thinks if he doesn’t, he’s going to be put on the trade market for some big free agent or something. Here, I’ll carry Alix’s bags upstairs for you guys.”

  Layla laughed, and Alix gave me a shy smile, one that, for the first time since I’d seen her step into the house, actually looked genuine. Still, I wasn’t totally at ease, even as I walked up the stairs and dropped the bags off on her bed. I just couldn’t get the image of her bruised eye out of my mind, nor the way she tried to play it off.

  Chapter 5

  Alix

  The first night home was actually one of the more pleasant ones I’d had in a long time. Derek Prescott isn’t a bad guy, I just felt bad for him being taken in by my mother. Still, there were none of the probing questions from her, and even Kade seemed nicer than usual as we went out to dinner at Studio at the Montage, a really top-flight restaurant in Laguna Beach. I blushed when about halfway through our dinner, a teenage boy who couldn’t have been older than fourteen came up to our table and asked me for an autograph. The staff was about to escort the boy away and maybe even throw him and his family out when I waved them off and instead asked my server for a pen. Used to accommodating any request within reason, I soon had a marker in my hand and signed the boy’s magazine, which looked like it had been rolled up or carried in a book bag for quite a while. He blushed when I gave the picture a kiss as well and handed it back.

  “That was nice of you,” Derek commented to me. “Do you do that for every autograph?”

  “I don’t get asked very often,” I replied, “but even then, no. It’s just that, well, you know this place. That boy’s family probably won’t get reservations for the next year after that little stunt of his, and he just looked so tied up in knots when he came over to ask. And he was nice about it too, you know. Kind of sweet.”

  “You probably just made him the most popular kid in junior high school,” Kade added as we continued our meal. “Are you sure you can handle that?”

  I laughed, my eyes drawn to Kade. With his dark brown hair and chiseled jaw, he could have been a model himself if it weren’t for the eternal glint in his eyes. He was handsome, athletic, and on top of all that, very intelligent. Of course, when you graduate with honors from Stanford Law, you have to be intelligent.

  The truth was, Kade was too much of a man to be just a pretty face. I know that sounds like I’m putting myself down, and maybe I am. But most of the people in modeling who do more than just a few local shoots do it because it’s the best way they can make good money. Nobody puts up with the egotistical designers and photographers, the demeaning treatment by a lot of the public who see us as nothing more than airheaded sex objects, or the physical hell you put yourself through just to maintain the look that got you popular if we had another way to earn six figures. I was one of the lucky ones, in that I was in a comfortable niche, not in the high-fashion, stick figure world, but still making good money without having to take my clothes off.

  Yet I also knew my limitations. I wasn’t going to ever graduate from Stanford like Kade did. He’d certainly be quite the catch for any girl.

  “I think I can handle it,” I finally said to Kade, and turned my face back to my plate before my thoughts betrayed me. As I finished my meal, I mentally chastised myself. I mean, sure, Kade was the proverbial all that and a bag of tortilla chips, but he was also my stepbrother. I wasn’t supposed to have any attraction to him.

  He’s not blood, a little voice whispered inside my head. No blood, no foul.

  I was still confused by the change in my thoughts when we got home, going to bed before anything else could happen. I knew I was intentionally avoiding Kade, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like one more look from those too-discerning eyes, and I’d spill the beans on everything, including things that I didn’t want him or anyone else to know.

  As I lay in bed, I was trying to read a book, nothing too serious, just a light novel from my teenage days that I’d never gotten around to throwing away. The words blurred in front of my eyes and I closed them for a second, the world dissolving to inside my brain.

  The hand came up behind me, grabbing me and spinning me around, pushing me against the wall. Sydney grinned at me, his eyes glowing red and evil, the smile on his face telling me exactly what was on his mind. Everything else was black, like I was surrounded by velvet. “Week’s up, Alix.”

  “No, no,” I begged, trying to push him away, but his body was as hard as iron, and my hands flailed uselessly against his chest. He grabbed my rig
ht wrist in a vice-like grip, pulling it down despite my best efforts against him to touch between his legs. He was hard and burning hot, even through his jeans, and I squealed.

  “Oh, you’re going to scream more than that,” he giggled insanely. His right hand came up to smash me across the cheek, when suddenly something came out of the darkness surrounding us to grab his wrist, stopping it in his tracks.

  “Get your goddamn hands off of her,” a powerful, rich voice boomed from the darkness, in that thrilling bridge between tenor and baritone that seemed to speak directly to my soul.

  With a yank, Sydney was pulled into the still impenetrable blackness, his yelling cut off like a power switch had been thrown. I stared in the direction he’d been yanked, seeing nothing until, like a ghost materializing out of nothing, Kade walked toward me. His eyes glowed too, but unlike Sydney’s glowing of madness, his glowed with something else—deeper, exciting, and holding the promise of something I’d been missing my entire life.

  “Kade . . . ” I whispered before he gently pulled me into his arms, his body strong and comforting. I laid my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, knowing that as long as it was Kade, I’d be safe.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kade said, pushing me back enough to look into my eyes. Even though his eyes glowed with a black light, they were still full of potential and acceptance. I could never lie to those eyes, could I?

  “I . . . I’m sorry,” I answered, unable to look away but not wanting to anyway. “I was ashamed of what he was trying to make me do.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant,” Kade replied, his lips curling in an amused little smirk. “I understood that. I meant, why didn’t you tell me how you felt about me?”

  I felt my mouth open and close silently, unable to confirm or deny what Kade was saying. How could I, when the truth was looming so large? Instead, I blinked and pulled him tighter. Kade’s reply was to lower his lips to mine, and like two puzzle pieces, we kissed. I’d never felt such a sensation. There were no words capable of describing it. Soft yet powerful, smooth yet rough, it was everything I could ask for in a kiss and more.

  We stayed there like that for an eternity, just kissing, my soul satisfied with that and nothing more, until Kade’s hands roamed down, lower than my waist to cup my suddenly naked ass. I pulled back to realize we were both naked, and the black had pulled back to reveal Kade’s bed at the mansion. Lifting me up, he carried me over like I weighed nothing before he laid me on the sheets like I was a precious jewel.

  “You know there’s nobody better for you than me,” Kade said, kissing me again. I couldn’t refuse his caresses as his hands rubbed my arms and shoulders, his body pressing me into the soft mattress. I was on fire, my skin swimming in wonderful sensation as our bodies touched. “If we do this, there’s something I need.”

  “What?” I asked him, my body crying out for what I so desperately needed.

  His voice whispered, sibilant and penetrating deep into my soul. “I want your heart, your soul, your love. Forever,” he said. “In return I’ll keep you safe and protected, cared for and cherished.”

  Kade faded back more, and all I could see was his eyes, black glowing against black. Desperate, I reached for him, and still he faded, until I was left alone, my heart aching as much as my body. Tears threatened at my eyes, and I felt like I could never go on, but then his voice drifted out of the darkness, lending me comfort as well as a promise.

  “I promise you . . . when you’re ready, I’ll be there.”

  * * *

  Suddenly, I woke up, my body aching with desire and want and tears running down my cheeks. What was that? Shaking my head, I closed my book and sat up, trying to figure out what the hell the crazy dream meant as the details grew fuzzy and the dream slipped from my mind. All I could remember was a feeling of great fear, then comfort and security, then a feeling of passionate completion that I’d never felt in my life. All I knew was that my body was yearning for sexual release, and that Kade’s name kept whispering through my head as I tossed and turned for the rest of the night.

  Chapter 6

  Kade

  That Sunday was the last day of our three day reunion. Saturday had been pretty laid back, with the three of us driving up to UC Irvine for a basketball game. Dad played small forward back in his college days, and while he didn’t like the way the modern pro game was played, he loved small college ball, and UC Irvine was local.

  On Sunday we all drove down to Dana Point for breakfast at a little shop along the shore. “It’s so early though, Derek,” Layla complained as she got into the back seat of my car. “And why did you ask Kade to drive, anyway?”

  “Well, my son spends half the time he and I talk bragging about this car, so I wanted to see it for myself,” Dad said. I suspected what Dad was up to, considering I’d found my car keys in the wrong pocket that morning, but kept my lip buttoned. If Dad wanted to spring a surprise on Layla, it wasn’t my place to ruin it.

  Breakfast was actually pretty nice, and of course the early morning view of Dana Point Harbor was peaceful as well. We went to a restaurant that I hadn’t been to before, enjoying a light platter of mostly fruit, some delicious scones, and fresh jams. “Hurry up,” Dad said about twenty minutes after we sat down. “Well, Layla, at least you need to hurry. Kade and Alix can take their time.”

  “Okay, Derek Prescott, what’re you up to?” Layla asked, grinning as she tucked a last little bit of scone with clotted cream and fresh blueberry jam into her mouth. “Because you didn’t have us drive down here to enjoy your son’s car, or to have scones at just after sunrise.”

  Dad grinned and nodded. “You’re right, and I have to apologize for keeping you in the dark. I just changed our original plans. I know I told you and Kade that we were going to drive up to Big Sur, but I thought to myself that we had done that just last year. So I booked us tickets on the Catalina Express.”

  Layla stopped chewing, then flushed as she let her emotions show. “Really?”

  “Really. Three nights on Catalina, and we fly back into Long Beach on Wednesday. What do you think?”

  Considering that Layla nearly tackled Dad in hugging and kissing him in reply, it was a pretty safe assumption that she liked the surprise gift.

  Alix and I actually dropped Dad and Layla off at the docks for the Express, which left us with a lot of time on our hands and no clue in the world on how to spend it. I glanced over at Alix, whose eye was still puffy and slightly swollen, although the bruise had faded from an ugly purple to a merely sickly brownish-green.

  Vince had gotten back to me as promised, and said that at least on the surface, Alix’s story held water. She had done a photo shoot on Friday for Men’s Health. The shoot had been done by a guy named Sydney Hale, who was a pretty famous photographer. The other people involved were another model, Karla McDonald, and a guy named Greg, who apparently somehow went by one name professionally, although I had no idea how that could work out. His name was Greg, nothing else. Los Angeles had to have a hundred thousand guys named Greg. In any case, Vince was trying to track down what exactly happened at the photo shoot, and promised he’d get more to me soon.

  “There’s something in this that’s tripping my alarms, Kade,” he told me. “I don’t know what just yet, but something.”

  I agreed with him, and kept my eyes and ears open all weekend. Now, it was just me and Alix, and I considered my options. I wanted to get her to talk, but at the same time I had to hold myself back. I couldn’t lose control. “So, what would you like to do?” I asked cautiously. “I haven’t been down in this area in a while.”

  “I know,” Alix replied, giving me a smile that threatened to melt my heart. God, she was so beautiful, even with the bruise on her face. “I’ve kinda missed you. It was nicer when you were still at USC; you were living in the LA area. Once you went off to Stanford for law school, the house was really quiet. And to be honest, it was easier to understand things when I had you to bounce ideas off
of.”

  “Come on, Alix,” I replied. “Don’t tell me that you couldn’t figure things out for yourself.”

  I really didn’t understand at the time why it was that I felt the need to taunt Alix so much when it was just the two of us. Even when we first met, I almost mercilessly teased her whenever we were alone. Some of it was due to my anger at the way she treated Dad and Layla, sure. But that wasn’t all of it.

  Alix, to her credit, took it all without a complaint and never stopped being nice to me. Instead, she grew serious, a look that she almost never gave anyone else. With Dad it was good-natured tolerance, with Layla it was bitchiness, and with most of the other people I saw her with it was bubbly and vivacious. Only with me did I see the intelligent side of Alix Nova. “Things weren’t always as they seemed, I guess. Having you around sometimes helped. Especially when Mom and I were having problems.”

  “You wouldn’t have—” I began, before cutting myself off. Dad wouldn’t have approved, and while I thought he and Layla were wrong in it, I wasn’t angry enough or invested enough in the issue to say anything. “Alix, despite having blonde hair, you’ve got a decent head on your shoulders. But we’re getting away from the question. What the hell do you want to do today?”

  “You buying?” Alix asked with a little grin, and I shook my head, returning it.

  “Hell no. I’m an attorney, you’re the world famous model. You should be buying me stuff.”

  Alix paused for a second, and I could see the wheels in her head turning. She’s not dumb; in fact, if she had applied herself, she probably could have been just as good in college as I was. Like I said before, though, I can tell pretty easily when someone is trying to pull a fast one on me, and even before she opened her mouth I knew that Alix was trying to sell me a line of crap.