by Selena Kitt
“God, he could put me in the middle of a scrum with him and his buddies. I’ve always liked that take-charge kind of guy. Your brother’s not afraid to go after whatever he wants. It’s so fucking sexy. Why hasn’t anyone married him?”
“He’s picky,” Betsy said. “He’s dated a few women, but always ended it before things got too serious. He says they never have what he wants, whatever that means.”
“And now he’s taking you to prom. Is he going to marry you next?”
The question hit Betsy like a glass of ice water thrown into her face. “Wh—What?”
“He comes all this way to ask you to your school prom. He’s never been married. I remember some of the girls he dated, Betz. They were all built like you – big tits, curvy asses. I think you have what he wants, girlfriend.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Betsy didn’t laugh. She was too shocked by the idea.
But Vanessa did laugh. “You know me, I love to tease. It’s probably why James married me. Promise me you’ll give me all the details this weekend.”
“I will,” Betsy said, barely paying attention. “You bet.”
“Talk to you la—”
Betsy had already hung up the phone. She stood motionless as Vanessa’s words raced through her mind. All of Mitch’s girlfriends were curvy girls like her. But that was just a coincidence. It couldn’t be anything else—could it?
But she was suddenly intrigued by the possibility that it might.
The limousine was so sleek it seemed like a UFO when it silently pulled up outside her house. Mitch emerged in an Armani tuxedo, holding a single red rose. She felt a bit conspicuous in her vintage clothing store dress, but that feeling vanished when she saw Mitch’s wide-eyed expression as she walked down the front steps. The chauffeur opened the door for her and Mitch slid in behind her, grinning like a little boy.
“What’s so funny?” Betsy asked. “Did I miss something?”
“No, baby. I just can’t believe how dynamite you look. You’re a knock-out.”
Betsy laughed, again feeling self-conscious. “It’s just the dress.” She looked down at her breasts. “It shows off the girls.”
“The world is glad for it,” Mitch said, still grinning. “I won’t be surprised if the chef at Osaka’s accidentally chops off a finger because he couldn’t look away from you.”
“Should I put on a scarf?” Betsy shifted in her seat.
“Don’t you dare,” Mitch said, sounding much like the Headmaster he was.
The Osaka chef didn’t cut off his finger, but he did make them an amazing meal of his personal selections. Betsy couldn’t remember the last time she had such a good meal. Osaka Sushi was an upscale restaurant atop one of the highest buildings in town. She and Mitch had an excellent view of the sunset as they dined.
Mitch had been a perfect gentleman all night, even standing whenever she left or approached the table. They finished the meal by feeding each other mochi before walking arm-in-arm out of the restaurant.
Betsy couldn’t help noticing many of the women, and even a couple guys, checking out Mitch as she walked with him. She rested her head against his strong arm all the way down the elevator ride to the parking garage. The limousine pulled up, and the chauffeur again opened the door for her. Mitch was almost grinning ear-to-ear when he got into the back with her.
“He’s definitely checking you out,” Mitch said in a low tone.
“Oh, please.” Betsy blushed. She wasn’t used to pointed masculine attention—but she didn’t often wear low-cut dresses. Or even make-up for that matter.
“I’m serious, baby. He’s not going to be able to keep his eyes on the road.” Mitch scowled toward the front of the limo where the driver was, indeed, glancing in his rear-view mirror at them. “He’ll be spending the entire drive adjusting his mirror so he can look down your dress.”
Betsy turned on her seat, toward her stepbrother, so her chest wouldn’t face the front. She didn’t know if she should scold the driver, ignore him, or flash her boobs at him.
“He seems like a nice guy, but he’s really not my type,” Betsy whispered. “Too old. And I’m not into beards.”
“He doesn’t know he’s not your type,” Mitch reminded her. “Maybe we should let him know that you’re spoken for.”
“What do you—?”
Betsy never finished the question because Mitch planted a kiss full on her mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise and her hands pushed into his rock-solid chest, but there was no moving the man.
Her own stepbrother was kissing her in full view of the chauffeur. Did he know Mitch was her stepbrother? What must he be thinking?
Mitch kept the kiss going for several beats of her heart, which grew quicker and stronger with each moment. He smelled wonderful and the strength of his body against hers was something she’d never felt before. She relented, letting him press harder against her, his tongue tickling her upper lip. He finally sat back, leaving her breathless.
“Looks like we’re here, baby,” he murmured.
Betsy didn’t realize they’d been making out all the way to the prom. That kiss had turned into an entire car ride, both of them completely lost in each other.
The limo rolled to a stop and soon the chauffeur was opening the door for them. Mitch stepped out first. Betsy took several deep breaths before she emerged. Her knees were shaky, but she managed to walk with Mitch to the school gym. Several students called out to her, and a few girls looked stunned at the sight of her date.
Once inside, Betsy got to work being a proper chaperone, although she kept getting distracted by Mitch, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss in the limousine. Why did he do it? Why did she like it so much? It wasn’t just a joke to pull on the chauffeur. It was a full-on kiss that could’ve led to his hands up her dress if they hadn’t reached the school.
Thinking about it made her jumpy. Mitch would slide up to her, often surprising her with his arm around hers or appearing with a drink or snack. She’d thank him and find the quickest excuse to move away from him. She wasn’t sure what to feel around him. She helped coordinate some of the games and did the usual patrols of walking around the gym to make sure there was no hanky-panky, drinking, or drug use. At one point Mitch, pulled her behind the bleachers for a quick slow dance. She tried to move back to chaperoning the prom-goers.
“Mitch, I need to get back to work.”
“Not just yet, baby. Let’s dance for a little while.”
She wanted to ask him about what had happened in the limo, but his strong arms, his nice smell, and the soft music made her forget that—and everyone else in the building. She rested her head against his warm chest and danced with him until the song changed and she remembered she had to get back to the students.
Nora Waverton, a senior Betsy had helped apply for trade school, chatted with her as she took tickets for a raffle.
“Hey, Miss Shull, is that your boyfriend over there? He’s super-hot.”
“No, he’s my—” Betsy caught herself just before she said “brother.” Plenty of kids had seen Mitch treating her like a queen and her career would be ruined if word got out that he was her brother.
“He’s my date,” Betsy said.
“Kinky, Miss Shull.” Nora grinned. “Real kinky.”
Nora left before Betsy could ask what she meant, and Mitch pulled her away from the raffle table.
“Time for a break,” he said.
“Mitch, I really need to chaperone these kids. I have a job to do and—”
“And there are at least a dozen other chaperones here. Let’s sit a while and have some cake or something.”
Tempting her with cake. Damn, the man knew her!
They found a corner far from the dance floor and DJ’s speakers and sipped iced tea while Betsy kicked off her shoes and rested her feet on a chair.
“It looks like these kids really like you, baby,” Mitch said while he rubbed his sister’s feet.
“They’re a great bun
ch. We have troublemakers like any other school, but there are some really good kids here. Most of them just want to be acknowledged and encouraged. Well, you already know that.”
“Private schools are different. A lot of the kids at my school come in with this sense of entitlement. Many of them rebel and turn out worse if you even attempt to break them. The good ones, the ones who will change the world, are the ones who are smart enough to shed that entitlement and strike out on their own.”
“It’s weird that we both ended up in the education field,” Betsy mused. “God, can you imagine what it will be like when our own kids are in school?”
“I can. I have.” He gazed at her over his glass of punch. “I’m sure our kids will have an amazing education.”
The DJ’s voice cut through the music. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, presenting your prom king and queen… Anthony Dyson and Angela Jackson!”
Betsy jumped up, clapping for them. Mitch clapped from his chair, looking up at her, smiling, a little bemused. She didn’t know why it made her chest tighten or her eyes tear up, but it did. She turned her face toward the stage, trying to wipe away a tear that fell without anyone noticing.
But Mitch noticed. He stood so fast that his chair nearly fell backward.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, putting his arms on her shoulders and leaning in to murmur the question.
“Nothing.” She shook her head, blinking her tools away. “They’re good kids. I just… I remember hoping I might be up there with Darren… then he dumped me just before prom and I… it’s just stupid girl stuff.”
“It’s not stupid at all.” Mitch took her hand. “Let’s walk, baby. Show me around the place. Has it changed much since we were here?”
“No.” Betsy shook her head, regaining their composure as they walked. “The office is being renovated, though. I can show you that.”
The sounds of the prom grew quieter as they walked down the halls of their former school. They ended up at the office and ducked under hanging tarps to enter the construction area. Ladders, drywall, paint buckets, and other gear were scattered about the front receptionist’s area in an order that Betsy said only made sense to the workers. She showed Mitch her meager office with its lone window that looked out to the back parking lot of the school.
“When does this get renovated?” he asked.
“Not for a while yet.” She laughed. “The principal’s office is first.”
“Let’s see it,” Mitch said.
“I don’t have a key.”
Mitch grinned. “I’m willing to bet I can get us in there if his office door is as old as yours.”
He pulled an American Express card from his wallet and had the principal’s office door open in less than a minute.
“Where did you learn that?”
“You learn a lot of things hanging out with professional rugby players.”
“This will be yours someday, baby.” They walked into the dark office. Mitch ran his fingers along the wide oak desk.
“Maybe.” Betsy shrugged her shoulders.
“It will. You’re special. You’re meant for great things. You’re a princess.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, but elegant jeweled tiara. Betsy could see the brilliance even in the dim light.
“Mitch…”
“You’re my princess, baby.” He placed the tiara on her head, looking satisfied.
“What is this?” She touched the tiara, holding back tears—again.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, baby,” he confessed. “From the first moment I saw you, I wanted to make you mine. I’ve dreamed of it for years.”
“But, Mitch, we’re—”
“I don’t care about that, and I don’t think you do either.” His palms moved over her bare arms, making her shiver. “I’ve waited for so long to tell you all this, to kiss you, to make love to you—”
Betsy gasped and stepped back, but Mitch stepped forward, grabbing her by the hips. He pulled her against his body. She could feel his hard cock even through her dress.
“Don’t leave.” He pressed his cheek against hers, whispering in her ear. “Please tell me you want this too. I’ve waited so long to get everything lined up, to make sure my career was on track, and we were far enough away from high school that no one would care that we were once step-related. Say you’ll be mine, baby.”
She could barely breathe, let alone answer him, but her body was saying yes. Her nipples hardened under her dress and her panties were growing damp.
“Say you’ll let me take you.” Mitch’s mouth was hot against her ear.
She was trembling, but only from excitement. “R—Right here?”
“Damn right.” He grinned. “Right on your future desk.”
Betsy glanced around, but the shades were drawn and the door was closed. No one would know. She glanced down at her dress, at her cleavage and the round swell of her hips, wondering if Mitch would balk when he got it off her, at all her curves.
“Don’t even think it.” His eyes flashed when she lifted her eyes to his again. “You’re so fucking beautiful I can’t stand it. Feel this.”
He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his pants. His erection was like a steel bar.
“That’s all for you, baby,” he growled, biting his lip when she gave him a gentle squeeze. “That’s how fucking hard you make me.”
“Oh Mitch,” she breathed, swallowing her own fear and insecurities—this night was about going after what she wanted, after all.
And she wanted Mitch. She always had.
Stepping back, she unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Her bra and panties soon followed. She stood there, letting him look, knowing that if he was going to reject her, it would be now.
Mitch’s eyes were the only parts of his body moving as he looked up and down her curvy form. He stood there so long she thought for sure he would just turn around and walk out, leaving her naked and sobbing in the principal’s office.
Then, finally, he moved.
He yanked off his tuxedo so fast that she thought he might tear it.
That made her giggle, but his face was a mask of serious as he came for her, fully naked, cock bobbing. He spun her around to the desk and pushed papers to the floor as she slid onto it. She spread her legs to get a better view of his big cock. She’d never seen one so swollen and eager for action, even in some of porn she’d perused online.
They kissed, hands roaming, Betsy thrilling at the hard, lean planes of his body, fingers exploring the ridges of his abdomen. Mitch’s tongue teased the roof of her mouth, sending electrical shivers between her shoulder blades, straight down to her aching pussy. She was so wet, already, she was afraid she was leaving a puddle on Principal Montgomery’s desk.
Mitch moaned into her mouth when she grasped his cock in her hand.
“God, I want you,” he groaned. “I can barely hold back from coming right now.”
Betsy took a deep breath and made another confession.
“Mitch, I’m a virgin.”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, his tongue probing gently, swirling, tasting her fully. Betsy whimpered, clinging to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as his cock rode the seam of her puffy, swollen, shaved pussy. She gasped as the shaft of his cock nudged her clit. She felt him twitch down there. Part of her wanted him to come on her belly so she could feel it and taste it, but more of her wanted him to take her with his cock and make her beg for more.
“Do you want me to be your first, baby?” He kissed down her neck and between her breasts.
“Yes, Mitch,” she whispered, hands moving in his hair as his mouth closed over her cherry-tipped breast. She moaned, arching her back, letting him hold her. “Oh yes, I’ve wanted you for so long… I never dreamed…”
“You’re my princess. You’ve always been my princess,” he murmured, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail to her other breast. “Remember when I talked about our kids having a great education
? I meant every word. You’re going to have my babies.”
Betsy’s whole body jolted at his words. One of the reasons she became a teacher was her love of children—a love they both shared. They’d talked a lot about having families when they got older, and here they were, talking about it again. Except this time, it would be the two of them, together. It would be their family.
Mitch squeezed her breasts around his face as he kissed them. Betsy stroked his short hair and nudged him toward her left nipple; the one she always thought was the most sensitive. He as he licked around her nipple in big swirls and then stuffed his mouth with as much of her breast as he could. She clamped onto his ribs with her knees as happy chills ran through her. Mitch moved to her other breast, but kept squeezing and pinching the first while he sucked on her.