Stepbrother UnSEALed

by Nicole Snow

  “Jesus, Chris! It's just a little drunken fun. Can't you see I'm trying to fucking open up? And maybe find out if we can at least be friends?”

  “I don't need more friends,” I snap. “Not friends I grab ass with. Not friends I want to lock lips with, leaving my marks on their skin. I don't need any friends who aren't going to turn into fuck buddies – and we don't have a chance. There's no way I'm gonna be your first fuck. I'm not screwing up your head and leaving you with the lifelong knowledge that the first man you spread your legs for was your own fucking stepbrother.”

  “Screwing up? Screwing up?!” She's got fire on her lips when she runs after me, digging her nails into my shoulder. “What do you think happened the other night? We were so close, Chris. You can't deny it. You're the first man who ever got his hands down there. Do I look screwed up to you? Well?”

  Crazy confirmed.

  Fucking shit. I don't know how to answer that without breaking her heart.

  “We didn't know. It was a mistake, nothing more. Now, you'll agree this truth and dare shit's a bad idea, and I need to get the hell out of here before we piss ourselves off more. Sorry it's gotta be like this, Delia. There's somebody in this town for you out there. Good luck.”

  I get about ten steps away when I hear her scream.

  “I'm not the one who needs it! Just go ahead and run, you fucking coward. You're right – this was a mistake.” Tears are streaming down her hot red cheeks now, and her arm flaps erratically, hurling her empty wine glass at me.

  It shatters on the pool deck with a loud echo.

  Coward, huh? If she were a dude, I'd already have her on the ground, one hand on her throat and the other in a fist, knocking teeth out.

  She's upset, I remind myself. She's just my stupid, naïve stepsister. One more spitfire who caused my cock to ache, even if she's a little better at it than most.

  Nothing more.

  I walk away, and this time I don't stop. I'm sober enough to run up the long staircase without breaking my damned neck, and that's all I do before I slam the door to my room.

  I need to sleep this bullshit off. In the morning, before she's up, I'll be gone, taking my last look at this insufferable mansion forever. This time, there's nothing that'll bring me back.

  I can fuck chicks with a little crazy. I can fuck my own stepsister too, especially when she's hot and willing and wanting.

  But I can't fuck my virgin stepsis, no matter how bad every dark, primal urge inside me wants to mount her like no other man ever will. Even I have limits.

  I can't leave poison and serious heartbreak in her head the minute after I'm spent. And I can't let her greedy little nails dig me deeper, trying to pull me into some fucked up, impossible relationship, the kind I know she'll want after I've burned the feel of my dick into her brain for life.

  V: Over a Ledge (Delia)

  I played with fire, and I got burned.

  The whole idea was stupid. Idiotic. Devastating.

  It takes me a long time to head upstairs, telling a servant to sweep up the broken glass on the way in. I take a long, hot shower, and then I settle down in front of my computer, desperate for a new idea.

  There's a new message from the prof. He's needling me about my thesis again, telling me I'd better move and give him some meat. He says the SEAL idea I barely mentioned to him sounds good.

  My stomach forms knots. I close the laptop and crash for the night, hating my fucking life.

  I just need to get away. There's a fog wrapped around my body and soul. Travel always helps clear it.

  Dad has airline perks for the entire family. I can take first class anywhere, and I'm strongly tempted to hop the red eye up to Washington or even Alaska for a week, explore the parks there and forget all about my infuriating stepbrother.

  But I can't seriously think about it yet. Not while the asshole is still in this house, teasing me with the SEAL stuff and his own wicked good looks.

  What the hell's wrong with him, anyway? I'd have never gone all the way, but if I did, shouldn't most guys want a virgin? I can't understand why he thinks I'll lose my mind.

  He's so damned full of himself. Maybe they all are, but especially this badass warrior I'm cursed to share a wall with now.

  I can't believe he thinks I'll be obsessed with him forever if I temporarily lose my mind and let him between my legs.

  Hell, Marnie barely remembers who she slept with her first time in our freshmen year, and it hasn't slowed her down a bit from poaching more hotties.

  I can't sleep. I'm tossing and turning all night, and by about four o'clock, I'm sitting on my bed, listening through the quiet house for any sound of him stirring.

  He's gotten me restless, desperate to prove him wrong, to prove to myself how much I don't need him.

  It's about thirty minutes later when I hear him getting up to dress.

  I wait until his door clicks open before I race to mine. Jumping out into the hall right ahead of him, he stops in his tracks, staring at me like I'm a ghost.

  “What?” he growls, holding the heavy bag with all the military gear he always carried around over his shoulder.

  “I'm not done with you yet,” I snap, pushing my hands against his chest. “I don't care if you never want me. You made your point loud and clear. I won't tease you anymore.”

  “Good. Then kindly get out of my way, sis.” Something about the way he says it sends shivers up my spine.

  “No, wait!” I grab his arm as he tries to walk past, and he doesn't stop until my feet are practically dragging on the floor. “Don't go. I still want to know you, Chris. As a friend, I mean, as a brother. No more sexy stuff. No more awkwardness. Please. It doesn't have to be like this.”

  He shakes me off, more vigorously this time. I don't follow him. He stops at the stairs and looks back at me, shaking his head.

  “Look, girl, I don't know what your issues are, but get 'em sorted the fuck out. It's not my job to help with that. I'm your stepbrother in name only. You're sweet, and you've got a body boys will kill for, but you've got some serious abandonment shit going on. Fix it, get yourself a boyfriend, and maybe I'll be in touch.”

  My heart pumps brimstone. I want to race after him and throw myself at him, even though I know how fucking insane that is, tackling a Navy SEAL.

  Instead, I force my feet to stay rooted to the floor, listening as he tromps down the stairs and slams the door.

  Great.

  I'm alone, I'm sexless, and the man who was supposed to give me my knockout thesis just walked out the door.

  It's early afternoon when there's a slap at my door. I wake up, rub my eyes, wondering why these screwed up sleep schedules always cause so much grog.

  “Yeah?” I pop my bedroom door open and Evie pushes her way inside, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  “Jesus, you're home early, aren't you? What happened to the weekend getaway?”

  “Your father and I decided we had more important business here,” she says, flashing me a wink. “He was here last night, wasn't he?”

  I try to play dumb until she looks at me sharply, his name written in her eyes. Chris.

  I shrug. “I don't know what you're –“

  “Oh, shut it, little girl. Don't play stupid with me. I know my son's been sniffing around you since the moment he showed up here for dinner. Winston told me everything.”

  Damn it. Big mouth should be our gate guy's middle name, but I'm floored that he's telling Evie crap behind dad's back.

  So what if he was here? Why's it any of her business?

  I shoot her a dirty look. It takes a lot of courage because Evie is kinda scary when she gets ramped up, smiling like an over-painted mannequin.

  It's my room. I don't have to take this shit.

  “We can talk about this later. You've got the wrong idea about Chris and me. He came by because I asked him to help with my project, this thing I'm doing for school about Navy SEALs.”

  “Ha! You really expect me to believe that?”
She throws her head back and drums her bright green nails on my dresser. “I saw exactly how he looked at you during dinner last week. Don't you dare play coy with me, little missy. I've had years of practice dealing with my son's bullshit, and you're not half the liar he is.”

  Evie stomps up, wild eyed, and gets in my face. My instinct is to slap her, but honestly, I'm too freaked out.

  It's like having a lioness rush you, a full on psychopath letting down her guard.

  Stumbling backwards, I crash against the wall, right as she reaches up and grabs my face. “Are you two fucking? Is that why he keeps coming home? It can't be for me. He doesn't give a shit about his own poor mother.”

  “Christ, no!” That's it.

  Fumbling, I manage to get my hand up, and slam it across Evie's cheek so hard I'm surprised her head isn't spinning.

  She staggers back a couple paces, feeling the burn on her cheek with one hand.

  “What the hell is wrong with you!?” I shout, so loud the servants downstairs can probably hear it. “He's just my stepbrother. Nothing happened between us, and nothing ever will. I just wanted to know him, feel him out about my thesis. It's not like there's some kind of crazy crush going on here.”

  Okay, that last part was a lie, but I don't care. When you're dealing with lunatics, anything is on the table to keep them in line, and right now Evie has that vacant, scary look in her eyes.

  I wonder if she's back on drugs. If all the weird crap I've read about in the tabloids, the stuff that caused her career to fly off the rails forever, is true.

  “We'll just see about that,” she snaps. Then her hand flies up and she aims a shaky finger at me. “I'm watching you, Cordelia. I'm not going to let you kids screw this up. I've worked too hard to get where I'm at, and I'm so fucking close to having it all fixed.”

  The door bangs open gently against the wall. Dad looks in on us, an awkward smile on his face.

  Great timing. He's missed the whole twisted blowout, and I'm too gobsmacked by what just happened to tell him his new wife is a psychopath on the spot.

  “Delia! I hope we didn't ruin any parties you had planned with the early return.”

  I force a smile and shake my head. Evie shoots me one more look like a scolded cat, and then slips past us without saying a word. Dad rubs her shoulder on her way out, before she throws him off, then he comes in and sits on my bed.

  “How's the big project going? You need any help?”

  I roll my eyes. Dad used to help me with my homework when I was little, cutting in all the private tutors he hired. They probably had the easiest jobs in the world with my father's micromanagement.

  He still hasn't given up the old habit. I have a feeling I'll be sixteen forever in his eyes, even though I'm about to graduate college and get an adult job – if I can get my honors degree locked down. And right now, that's looking like a big if.

  “I'm working through it,” I lie, trying to forget the crap that's just happened. “Did you really cut things short for business? Or is there another reason?”

  I sit down on the bed next to him, laying one hand on his shoulder. He looks so tense, and there's a dark, sad shadow under his eyes too. Honestly, I haven't seen him look like this since all the shakeups in the airlines after 9-11, when I was just a little girl.

  Hell, maybe not since mom walked out.

  I know it's her. I want to scream at Evie all over again, ask her why she's such a bitch, anything to stop her before she breaks my poor dad's heart all over again. I don't think he'll survive another breakup.

  “It's for Evie's sake. Travel can be...very taxing on her,” he says softly, before turning to face me and giving me a huge, business-like smile. “Hey, I've got a few company passes for Las Vegas next weekend. Interested? Maybe a little fun will help you get your creative juices going.”

  Vegas. I've only been there a few times, and never as a grown woman, willing and able to let loose and go crazy.

  “You know, I think I'll take you up on that. Maybe I'll see if Marnie wants to come along so I have somebody to go with.”

  He stands up and slaps me on the back. “That's my girl! I'll have the arrangements ironed out for you in the next couple days. Until then, try to get some studying in before the trip. You're on the home stretch now!”

  We flash grins and I give him a quick hug, holding on a little longer before he heads out the door. “Dad, if there's ever anything insane happening, you need to tell me. Don't bottle it all up.”

  He shakes his head furiously. “No, honey, everything's fine. It's a marriage, after all. I promised her I'd make this work, and I know in my heart she's the only one I want to spend my life with. That's our problem, not yours, and I'm going to figure it out. Thanks, though.”

  He squeezes my hand one more time and then he's gone.

  I can hardly write. My thesis drags. I want to pick up my laptop and hurl it out the window, anything to break this funk, this frustration, my asshole stepbrother has woven across everything SEAL-related.

  The week goes by in a blur. There's drinks with Marnie on Tuesday, and a whole lot of jogging and notes that never lead anywhere in between.

  I consider my alternatives. There's some huge new startups coming into town, and I almost think about using them for a thesis, assuming I can schmooze my way into the tech moguls in the making for an exclusive feature. But then I hear another girl under Professor Thosser, Georgette, is already on it, and she's got an uncle in venture capital.

  Damn it! All I've got is this SEAL thing I can't stop researching. I don't know why I'm continuing to read books and articles, especially when Chris' room is empty every night, a cruel reminder that our love-hate thing ended just as quickly as it started.

  His empty room taunts me, reminds me how dumb I was to try to play truth or dare, and how big a jackass he is for running away.

  On the other hand, maybe he's right.

  I'm already too attached. I can't stop thinking about him. My hand floats over his number at night, glowing on my phone, aching to send him one more text to ask him what's going on.

  But I can't. I won't.

  I don't chase guys, much less an arrogant creep so full of himself who also happens to be “family.”

  Vegas can't come soon enough. I pack my bags Thursday night, ready for my flight early Friday morning. I'm about to wash up and check everything over one more time when I hear two men laughing, coming up the stairs.

  I stick my head out my bedroom door and do a double take. It's dad and Chris together, smiling at each other like they're old business buddies.

  What the hell's he doing back in this house?

  Stepping out into the hall, dad looks up, notices me, and smiles. “There's my girl! So glad you're still awake, Cordelia, I have something to tell you.”

  Chris' eyes light up when he sees me. He stops and stares, taking me in, as if we haven't seen each other for months. I don't get it. His dragon green eyes make me feel...well, more than I really want.

  “What? What's going on?” I whisper, bracing myself for another blow to the stomach.

  “Chris is taking a week off from the Navy for some R and R. You said your friend Marnie couldn't make it, so I've decided you should go together. Think of him like a personal bodyguard.” My dad reaches up and slaps Chris on the shoulder.

  The floor falls out underneath me. I'm gutted. I shoot the asshole SEAL a sharp look and can't resist cocking my head.

  “Really? I thought you had so much to do on your base? Isn't that what you told me when you stormed out last week?” I'm giving him crap, and he knows it. “I thought the last place you'd want to be is spending time with us.”

  He chuckles and walks up to me, puts his hands on my shoulders and pulls me in. “Come on. You think I'd pass up a free fucking trip to Vegas? You're the one who told me you'd keep your hands to yourself. Play nice.”

  He squeezes me tight as he whispers the last part into my ear, and then releases me. I have to lock my knees not to fall b
ackwards against the wall.

  What the hell kind of game is he playing?

  “Vegas can be a dangerous place, especially for a young girl traveling by herself,” dad says. Like I don't already know. “He's not there to be your shadow, Cordelia, but we'll all feel better with Chris along if anything happens.”

  “Yeah, sis, I can handle all of it. Dudes trying to spike your drink, biker gangs, cartels, mafia card dealers. Just say the word if you're in trouble.” He gives me a wink. “Who knows, maybe I can help you with that project your old man's telling me about. Hang with me in Vegas and you'll find out how SEALs play.”

  Butterflies shoot through my stomach. Yeah, right.

  Actually, he's being a total dick, teasing me like this, but in the back of my mind, he isn't completely wrong. He's holding out a carrot. I'm still going to come up with a backup idea, but maybe if I hang around watching him drink and gamble, he'll loosen up, and I'll get something I can use for this SEAL psychology paper.

  My heart skips a couple of beats, and not just because he's suddenly restored hope in my thesis. He's starting to make me think that maybe – just maybe – he wants to bury the hatchet.

  What I can't figure out is why he's so damned enthusiastic all of a sudden. Is it all a show for dad, or did he change his mind about something else too?

  Dad gives me a sour look. I'm sure I look like I'm staring at an oncoming train, frozen in my tracks. “Look, I know this is rather abrupt. If you really don't want your stepbrother around, I'm sure we can figure out a compromise, an alternate itinerary for both of you.”

  Chris pivots, throwing a thick hand on my dad's shoulder. “Bruce, don't worry about it. I'll give her as much space as she needs. Separate rooms. One good dinner and a few drinks are all I really want with my little stepsister anyway. Believe me, I've got my own plans in sin city. I'm not gonna fuck up hers.”

  I shake off the shock and step toward them. “Guys, it's fine. Sorry. It just caught me by surprise.”

  I look at Chris as he flashes me his perfect teeth. It's amazing how he's probably evaded death a dozen times, and still has all his teeth set in a smile so good it burns between my legs.