Stepbrother Romance Complete Series

by Ava Grace

  I’d asked Avery out dozens of times since about the age of thirteen and I’d thought I was going to stroke out when she finally said yes three years ago. It had been the highlight of my life thus far. We’d had one perfect date together during which I took her to dinner at a fancy restaurant then walked her home. Afterwards, I stood on her front porch and gave her a kiss goodnight. It was a quick, peck on the lips that had been over before it had really begun, but it had rocked my world.

  It had been the first kiss that either of us had experienced. Even though it was chaste and sweet and had lasted all of five seconds, it had been exactly what I’d always hoped our first kiss would be. I’d had butterflies in my stomach, fireworks dancing in front of my eyes—the whole shebang—and I knew, right then and there that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Although, if I’m being honest, I think I’d always known, even before the kiss.

  The very next night, my dad introduced me to the woman he’d been dating and it turned out to be Avery’s mother. The bottom of my world dropped out when they told us they were getting married. Avery was going to be my sister—well, stepsister, but it amounted to the same thing. She was off limits. I had to get any and all thoughts of us a couple out of my head.

  Turns out that was easier said than done.

  Avery had spent the past three years tormenting me—taunting me with something I could never have. It was difficult enough trying not to pop wood at home—especially when I caught a glimpse of her in the little t-shirts she wore to bed that barely covered her ass cheeks. But here, with her tight, perfect body on constant display, I’d had more cold showers in three days than I’d had hot dinners in my entire life.

  Avery looked expectantly at me over her shoulder. Now, I had a dilemma. I’d have to sit up to put lotion on her back which would mean removing the John Grisham book that was currently covering the steel rod that tented my trunks. But the prospect of getting my hands on her nearly naked body was too good to turn down.

  “Sure,” I said with a shrug—as if touching her meant nothing to me. Yeah right.

  Oh well. It wasn’t as if Avery was blind. She had to have seen that I was always hard around her so it wouldn’t come as a huge surprise. I made a big show of taking the book off my lap and when she looked down at what I was doing, her eyes widened and she made a noise that somehow managed to be part moan and part breathy little gasp. I’d fantasized about her making that same sound as I slid my dick into her pussy. I’d fantasized about her screaming my name too and it was a tossup as to which I wanted to hear more.

  She handed me the bottle then turned, giving me her back. My hands shook as I popped the lid and squirted some cream into my palm. I rubbed my hands together then tentatively lifted them to her shoulders, massaging the lotion into her smooth skin. My dick was so hard it was painful, straining at the material of my trunks. As soon as I was done I was going to have to hotfoot it back to my room to take care of business.

  I’d lost count of the times I’d jacked off to thoughts of Avery. I’d imagined her on her knees with my cock jammed halfway down her throat and I’d pictured her on her back, her legs spread wide while I went to town on her cunt. I’d even envisaged how she would look on her knees, begging me to fuck her from behind.

  Shit. I had to stop this train of thought right the hell now or I was liable to blow in my swimming trunks right here in the open where everyone could see. That would be even more embarrassing than sitting here sporting wood.

  I shifted my legs around to try to give my dick more room, but it was a lost cause. The only thing to do was to think of something boring and will my erection to go away. That sounded good in my mind and in theory it was, but then Avery leaned back into my touch and…did she just moan? Dear God, was actually trying to turn me on? If so, she was doing a stellar job of it.

  I slid my hands down her sides, all pretense of covering her with sun lotion gone, and when I reached the string of her bikini bottoms, I slid my fingers beneath, ghosting them over the top of her ass. The gasp that left her lips when I touched her crack was louder than before and my cock jerked in anticipation of the fuck it wasn’t going to get.

  “Uh, I think you’re good,” I mumbled, taking my hands away before my fingers accidentally ended up in other, more intimate places.

  “Thanks,” she said quietly, slipping the lotion bottle under her lounger.

  Before she stretched out on her stomach and turned her head away from me, I noticed the bright pink blush that stained her cheeks. I sat there for a moment and drank her in. Avery had a killer body. Long and slim she had a pert, round ass, big fat tits and a tiny waist. She was so beautiful that my breath caught every time she smiled at me.

  Her long dark hair fanned out across her back and my hands itched to reach out and sweep it over her shoulder so that I could better see her neck and the curve of her spine. Her skin was creamy, smooth and as soft as satin.

  Over the years, I’d spent a lot of time staring at Avery. I just couldn’t seem to help myself. Each time I caught myself looking, I turned away, but it wasn’t long before my gaze fell on her again. Trouble was, she knew all too well how much I liked to look at her and didn’t seem to mind so of course that made me do it all the more.

  Some days, I wished that Avery would be a bitch to me. That might change my perception of her and allow me to move on—to stop wanting her the way I did, but thinking like that was futile—a completely pointless exercise. Avery could never be a bitch—that was one of the reasons I was head over heels for her.

  “Hey, you guys,” my stepmom, Carol said, sitting down on the free lounger on the other side of me. “Are you enjoying the sun?”

  I spun around, conscious of the guilty expression I was sure was plastered all over my face. If there was something that could make my hard-on disappear with lightning speed it was the thought of my stepmom seeing it.

  So it was probably a good thing that she’d shown up.

  “Yeah,” I grunted, reaching for the towel at my feet and placing it discreetly in my lap, just in case. “But I’m starting to burn so I thought I’d head to my room for a couple of hours. Gonna take a shower then hang there for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “Alright sweetie. You be sure to meet up with us in time to go to dinner, okay? Your father said he wants us all down here by six.”

  “Sure thing.” I got to my feet.

  “Hey, mom,” Avery said belatedly, turning around on the lounger.

  I glanced down at her then froze, my breath stuck in my throat. The small triangle of her bikini top had moved to the side and a perfect pink nipple was on display. My boner came back with a vengeance and I bit back a groan as I imagined wrapping my lips around the little bud and teasing it with my tongue.

  “Hey, hon,” my stepmom replied, pulling a book, a pair of sunglasses and various other items out of her purse.

  She hadn’t glanced Avery’s way.

  Thankfully.

  I didn’t know if I should say something or pretend I hadn’t noticed and get the hell out of dodge. The third option was to drop to my knees and worship Avery’s beautiful body. That would likely have gained me a few funny looks though so I cleared my throat to get her attention.

  Avery looked up at me, a shy smile on her full, fleshy lips. Jesus, I’d have given anything to kiss them again. Anything. I nodded to her chest and she followed my line of sight. Her mouth opened in surprise and her eyes widened, but she didn’t rush to cover herself. Far from it. Instead, she lifted her head, met my gaze and grinned, mouthing three little words—words that there was no way in hell I could have ignored.

  “I dare you.”

  Shock froze me in place.

  Avery and I had been playing the dare game since the fourth grade and the rules were simple. She dared me to do something and I went right ahead and did it. No questions asked. If I successfully completed the challenge, then it was my turn to dare her to do something. Neither of us had ever backed out of a dare and we�
��d been playing the game for going on eight years. It had become somewhat of a competition to see who would crack first. As I stared down at her beautifully formed nipple, I made the decision that it wasn’t going to be me. No way. No how.

  Of course, this was the first time that Avery had ever dared me to do something like this—something sexual in nature and I wanted to do it so badly I ached. She’d always asked me to do stupid stuff in the past. When we were ten, the dares were things like knock on old Mr. Miller’s door then run away or shout out something juvenile in class. Was she really asking me to touch her? I looked over my shoulder at my stepmom. She was stretched out on the lounger, focused entirely on the book in her hand.

  She wasn’t watching us. Still…

  Avery got a smug grin on her face like she knew she had me this time. She didn’t believe I’d do it. At all. I guess she didn’t know me as well as she thought she did. My heart pounded as I moved nearer. Making sure my body mostly hid hers, I bent over and whispered in her ear.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, sis.” At the same time, I ran my thumb over her nipple, feeling it stiffen instantly into a firm peak. She sucked in a quiet breath as I pulled her bikini top back into place before straightening.

  “See you both later,” I said cheerfully.

  “Later,” Carol replied.

  With my cock as hard as it had ever been, there was nothing to be done but stand up tall and own it. I grabbed my book off the lounger, threw the towel over my shoulder then sauntered around the edge of the pool, heading for the bank of elevators in the hotel lobby.

  My stepmom was the only one to bid me goodbye, though she still didn’t look up from the trashy romance novel she was reading. Avery, it appeared, had been struck dumb.

  The grin of satisfaction remained on my face for the rest of the afternoon.

  Chapter Two

  I couldn’t believe he’d done it.

  The dare had been a rash, spur of the moment idea that came to me with a large dose of smugness. I’d thought Logan would finally be the one to crack—the one to turn down a dare. I should have known better. My nipple still tingled from the light touch of his finger. My skin felt flushed and tight. My core ached. Every inch of my body craved more, but it wasn’t going to get it.

  I’d waited for maybe ten, fifteen minutes after Logan had left to make sure I didn’t run into him then I said goodbye to my mom and I practically ran to my room. I tore off my swimming costume and got into the shower, turning the temperature down low in the hopes that it would cool down the fire that burned through me. It didn’t. The rhythmic pulse of the water against my overheated skin and oversensitive nipples only turned me on more.

  I gave up on the shower, dried off quickly then collapsed on the bed, my hand going straight to where I needed it most. The first stroke against my clit had my back arching off the bed and with each, subsequent touch, I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned and writhed, imagining it was Logan’s fingers or mouth on me that was bringing me to release.

  I would have settled for him sitting across the room watching me touch myself just so that I could see his face as I came. Instead I brought up the image of him in my mind. It was a poor substitute but it would have to do. It wasn’t like this was the first time I’d got off thinking about him. He was pretty much all I thought about when I touched myself.

  Logan had filled out over the last few years and packed on tons of lean muscle. I practically drooled every time I looked at him. But it wasn’t just about the way he looked, it was about the way he looked at me—like I was not only the prettiest girl in a room, but the prettiest girl on the planet. He made me feel beautiful, sexy and alive.

  He made me want things. Things I shouldn’t want.

  I rubbed my fingers harder against my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to give me the friction I needed. With my other hand, I ghosted a finger over one of my nipples, imagining it was Logan’s touch that made the little bud pucker, just as it had earlier.

  Man, if he’d touched me like that when we’d been alone…

  I threw my head back against the pillows and came with a loud yell of Logan’s name then collapsed in a hot, sweaty mess, my feet tangled up in the crisp, white sheets. The fantasy of Logan never failed to stimulate, but I was pretty sure the reality would be even better. If I could get so worked up just thinking about him then I was pretty sure I’d come at the first brush of his fingers or languid sweep of his tongue against my clit. I was desperate to taste him—to wrap my lips around his cock and suck him until he came on my tongue and down my throat. I wanted to know what he’d feel like inside me, thrusting deep. I’d never done any of those things, but with Logan, I wanted them all.

  Like always, my orgasm pretty much wiped me out.

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but I guess I must have. I awoke to the sound of knocking and someone calling out my name. It took me a few, dazed moments to realize that the person outside my bedroom door was Logan. I grabbed a sheet and wrapped it haphazardly around my body as I slid off the bed and stumbled to the door. I pulled it open just as I yawned.

  “Attractive,” Logan mused, a wry smile on his face. “Especially with the bed-head.”

  I rolled my eyes and went back into my room, leaving him standing outside the door. Despite acting like I didn’t care, I quickly ran my fingers through my hair to make it more presentable before collapsing on the bed again. I grabbed the television remote from the nightstand and began channel surfing.

  “Was there something you wanted?” I asked without looking at him.

  Logan hesitated before coming into the room and shutting the door, closing us in together. I expected him to just hover there while he told me what he wanted, but instead he crossed the room and got up onto the bed with me, making himself comfortable.

  “Dad just called. He said they’re not coming to dinner tonight.”

  “Oh,” I said, distracted. “Why not?”

  “You’re mom’s ill.”

  “What?” I turned to him now, giving him my full attention. “What do you mean ill? What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s okay. My dad said something she ate for lunch hasn’t agreed with her.” Logan grinned. “He said she’s spent the last couple of hours in the bathroom.”

  “Uh, gross. You don’t think she’s got food poisoning, do you?”

  “Nah, if it was that serious my dad would have called the doctor. Probably just Delhi Belly.”

  “We’re in Mexico,” I pointed out.

  He shrugged. “He said she’ll be fine in a couple of hours and not to worry. They’re going to order room service if your mom’s up to it.”

  “Oh, okay. Has he cancelled the restaurant?”

  “No. Dad said it would be a shame to waste the table and that we should still go.” He shrugged again. “If you want to that is.”

  If Logan and I were alone in a restaurant together, it would feel too much like a date. And we’d already had one of those. Three years ago. It had been amazing, special, perfect and a hundred other adjectives that all amounted to the same thing.

  “Sure,” I said, sounding like I didn’t care if we went or not. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

  “Okay,” Logan agreed slowly. “We’ll go.”

  I went back to watching the movie that was on, but I couldn’t have said what it was about. All I could think of was the fact that Logan was laying next to me on the bed.

  I’d lost count of the times I’d imagined Logan in my bed. My breath came faster when I thought of the implications. Us being together like that—so close I could feel the heat radiating from his skin, was not a good idea. I should have asked him to leave. His proximity made me lightheaded. I needed some fresh air or maybe just some space. I couldn’t decide which. Both, I needed both.

  As I remembered what I’d done in the bed just hours before to thoughts of Logan, heat spread across my cheeks. I gripped the bed sheets in an effort not to reach for him. He wo
re only board shorts and a short sleeved tee so there was too much of his tanned, muscular body on display. Did he realize the effect he had on me?

  I gave up pretending to watch the movie and glanced down at his hands. His long, elegant fingers rested just inches away from my thigh—fingers that had lightly brushed over my nipple just hours before. I wanted him to touch me like that again, on purpose, not because I’d dared him to, but because he wanted to.

  Evidently, neither of us was willing to mention the elephant in the room. The stupid dare. I couldn’t work out if that was for the best.

  Probably.

  No, definitely.

  If he brought it up it would be embarrassing for us both. The fact is, I shouldn’t have asked him to do it. I should have taken the time to think about what it could do to us before I opened my big mouth. But I hadn’t and now here we were, both pretending to watch a lame daytime movie rather than talk to each other with the easy banter we usually had going on. The dare had changed things between us and I couldn’t see how to get back to the way we were. I wasn’t even sure I wanted things to go back to normal.

  At least I wasn’t the only one who’d been turned on by the dare. As the thought came to me, my gaze travelled to the front of Logan’s board shorts and I remembered the bulge that had been there before, tenting the material. It had seemed huge—too big for the shorts that confined it. I wanted to see it in all its glory—to feel the weight of it in my hand.

  “The longer you stare at it the harder it’s going to get,” Logan drawled.

  I sucked in a quick breath and felt heat hit my cheeks almost immediately. When I chanced a look up at him, his hooded eyes were watching me carefully. I opened my mouth to say what? An apology for ogling him? Nothing came out. I licked my lips and the groan that slipped from Logan reverberated through my entire body.

  “Jesus, Ave, you’re killing me.” He sighed then ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I’d better go.”

  Still, he made no move to get up, but when it looked like he was going to, my hand shot out and grabbed hold of his arm.