A year later disaster struck. Our parents' private jet crashed on its way to the Seychelles, just the two of them jetting off to celebrate their fifth anniversary. It has been just Amelia and me ever since, in a mansion large enough to house God knows how many. With Amelia having just turned eighteen, I felt a responsibility to be there for her, and I moved back in right after the funeral, not wanting her to be alone in that big house with only the staff.
The strange part is that we only use a fraction of it, the part that was originally set up as an apartment for guests; the main house brought too many painful memories of our parents back. The staff was reduced too, to just what is needed to keep the place clean. In essence we've reduced things to just the two of us, as if that can get us closer together.
Not that we see much of each other. I'm usually out the door before she is awake and I return home at insane hours. She could move out if she wanted to. Dad accepted her as his own and didn't forget her in his will. Rich and beautiful, she could fill her days being a typical nouveau rich girl. But that isn't her.
One look at the beautiful and self-assured woman, who is ready to take on the world, reminds me of the kind of woman she is. The kind who wants to make a difference, not breeze through life living off money she never had to work for. But that isn't the only thing that is on my mind as I watch her receive her nursing degree, her sparkling eyes searching the crowd and lighting up when they find me. The warm smile she sends me makes my heart swell; I just wished that was the only part swelling.
Inwardly cursing, crossing one leg over the other, I fight the feelings that my conscience tells me shouldn't be there, but they are. Undeniably. Refocusing from her tantalizing form to the not-so tantalizing one of a sour looking elderly lady, I hope that will put a stop to the embarrassing hard-on that is growing fast, creating an embarrassing bulge that I try to hide behind the hands in my lap. Experience, however, taught me things aren't as easy as that.
She was already pretty when we first met. But then she transformed from 'pretty' to the sensational beauty that she is today, and I can't help but respond to it the way a man does. With her thick mane of light blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, framing a face with delicate and regular Nordic features, and a pair of big blue eyes that look into the world with curiosity and a joy that is contagious, not to mention the full red lips that are criminally sensuous, she is the spitting image of her mother. And, just like her mother, she has a warm and perfect smile that makes me feel like the sun just broke through the clouds whenever she sends it my way.
But it isn't just facial beauty that she was blessed with. Her body is a one in a thousand, just like a model, envied by women and wanted by men. In that respect she is like her mother too. At five feet and ten inches, she is nothing but legs that seem to go on forever, and a round ass that stands in sharp contrast to her wasp waistline. As if that isn't enough, nature also blessed her with a chest that would make a pin up girl jealous. Altogether, she has the face of an angel and the body of a sex-goddess and it never fails to have an effect on me.
Together with her personality, I can't fault myself for never developing an interest in another woman.
Crossing my legs again, leaning over to hide the painfully restricted hard-on that makes me feel like a dirty old man, I return my eyes to the stage after the elderly lady gives me a curious look. Thank God this will be over soon. I'll just have to make a run for the restroom and take care of business there, as embarrassing as that is.
Amelia
"Mac!" I yell, rushing forward through the crowd. I can't believe I finished at the top of my class and nothing makes me happier than to share the moment with him.
"Proud of you," Mac says. The smile on his ruggedly handsome face only makes my own smile grow that much wider.
"I've been looking all over for you," I say, throwing myself into his arms without restraint. If there is one thing I never pass up on than it is a hug from my favorite guy. "Where were you? I saw you get up after the ceremony and rush off like your pants were on fire."
"Restroom break," Mac says self-consciously. "Emergency," he adds in a tone that makes it sound like it is something to be ashamed of.
Taking a half step back, my hands still on his hips, I can't help but giggle at the embarrassed look on his face. "Don't feel bad about that, Mac," I say, savoring the way he looks like a boy squirming in his pants. "It is all part of growing older."
The fire in his eyes is instant, as is the way he sets the granite jaw that never fails to make my heart skip a beat and my pussy throb. The intensity of his look is perfect and breathtaking in a way that is all his. The look that is one of the hallmarks of my life ever since he came into it.
Those light green eyes; he can perfectly convey his approval or disapproval without the need for words. Right now, his eyes are telling me I'm chartering dangerous waters, but we both know that in this case it is just his pride that I'm challenging. I'll get away with it. In fact, I always get away with everything. Not that I am ever bad, but I do tease him a lot.
When he is around, that is. Which is almost never. Creating time with him has become an art where I feel like a huntress stalking her prey. At first, I thought he'd grown tired of me when I saw less and less of him. Then I thought he was probably living the life you'd expect from a guy who is beyond rich. The billionaire lifestyle with easy women, a thought that sent a stab of hurt through my chest.
Then I learned he really does dedicate his life to the company his great grandfather started. My respect for my stepbrother, one of the richest and most eligible bachelors in the world, instantly multiplied by a factor of ten. Instead of blowing his money on luxuries no one needs, he keeps it simple and puts in more hours than anyone else I know.
"Older?" Mac says slowly.
"Let's face it, Mac," I say with an excitement that comes from more than just that he is my most favorite guy ever. By now, the warmth that spreads in my chest and between my legs is familiar to me, but also a close guarded secret that I have never shared with anyone.
At thirty-five, Mac is a handsome and well-built guy. Despite sitting in his office and leading board meetings, his religious dedication to the only hobby I know he has—Systema, a Russian martial art—has given him the physique of a top athlete. And if he ever loses his fortune, he has the looks of a model that should get him plenty of gigs in that line of work. Keeping his dark hair short gives him that military look that I like, and he has the kind of deep voice that comes with a sense of natural authority. But what I love most about him is the warmth in his eyes.
"You are almost what now? Fifty-one?Fifty-two?" I say. Fighting to keep a straight face, I enjoy the sight of Mac struggling not to crack a smile himself over my silliness. It is a game that we've played often and we both love it.
"Twenty-seven," Mac says. Last week it was twenty-four.
"Oh really?" I say, loudly and full of all faux-surprise, one hand fluttering to my chest and the other to my mouth. "Well, you don't look a day older than fifty to me." He doesn't. He looks younger than he is, but not the twenty-seven that I bet he'd love to be again. "So it's alright that you need the potty more often these days," I say, nodding emphatically.
"Amelia," Mac says, a warning in that deep voice that just has to send a shiver down my spine and straight to a blonde pussy that is heating up fast.
"Mac, you just have to accept that you’re getting older," I say. All through college, I'd looked for a guy who would make me feel like Mac does. A guy I can have fun with, like I'm having right now, and they all came up short. Not that I never went out on a date and tried; I did. But they were wake-up calls, not the romance and fun that every woman wants. A wake-up call that brought home the fact that the guy I really want is standing right in front of me. "And that means losing strength in certain areas," I say, offering Mac my best pity look.
"Still strong enough to lay you over my lap, young lady," Mac says, using his older brother tone. I believe that is why he moved back i
n after the funeral. A sense of responsibility toward his younger stepsister, a wish to provide me with a father figure in my life. If only he knew I want him to be something very different. "Maybe that is where I fell short. Being too soft and indulgent. Then again, maybe you are not too old to be put straight with a firm spanking that I obviously should have handed out years ago."
I wish! Just the thought of the flat of his hand hitting my bare ass is enough to send my pink snatch into drooling mode. "Denial," I mumble with a tremble to my voice that betrays my excitement. Self-aware that the blush that is spreading, I move to his side and pretend to be scanning the crowd, hooking my arm through his and rattling on just to distract myself from my own feelings. "You'd be surprised how many guys your age wear a diaper, Mac."
"Amelia!"
"But if you must insist on running the risk of you-know-what," I say, proud to be walking next to the hottest guy in a million mile radius, "you just let me know when you need a potty break."
Stepbrother Holiday (A Forbidden Billionaire Romance)
“We are preparing for the final descent. Please fasten your seatbelts now and place your trays in the upright position. Thank you.”
Hayden looked up as the light for the seatbelt illuminated. He couldn’t believe that they were going to land soon. It was surreal, how time didn’t seem to exist as he was talking and flirting with Nina. He snuck a look over towards her, and was gratified when he saw the same disappointment written on her face. He groaned inwardly as he watched her bite her own lip. What he wouldn’t give to be doing that himself. In fact, if he could have had his own way, he’d have bought out the entire flight. He wanted to run his hands all over her, feel the sweet softness of her body under his.
The thing was, unintentionally or not, he had created a problem. He hadn’t figured it out until halfway through, but somehow Nina didn’t have a clue that he was going to be her stepbrother. Whether it was because Sarah had never mentioned him, or she hadn’t bothered to look him up, it felt almost refreshing to have her get to know him as just Hayden, plain and simple. He hadn’t had that since he was very young. Back then he went to school with others who were just as well off as he was, and while there was a shadowy sense of just how important he was, it had never bothered him the way it did now.
He hadn’t meant to lie to her, but now he wasn’t sure how to get out of it. Hayden knew that she liked him. It was clear as day. And he did too, surprisingly enough. What had started out as a way to get Nina out of his system by seducing her had suddenly become a lot more complex. But how was he supposed to have known that all this time, she hadn’t known who he was?
Unfortunately, the decision was made for him. As they exited the airport, a driver held up a sign saying “Hayden and Nina”. It didn’t take a genius to figure out just how many Haydens and Ninas there could have been on the flight.
She stopped, stock still. Her mouth had dropped open, and her eyes were wide. Nina turned around to look at him, hurt and confusion written on her face.
“Nina,” he said quietly, “I can explain.”
“What do you mean?” Her voice quavered just a little at the end.
“I was going to explain, to say, but I just didn’t have a good time…”
Hayden started to reach out to her, to pull her closer, but she pulled her hand back towards herself. He knew why she was angry. It seemed like such a cruel trick, to flirt with her when he knew that she was going to be his stepsister. That it would be wrong to continue on the path they were headed to.
Hayden’s file on her had been thorough. She didn’t have a boyfriend, and she never did before either. She was too shy and guarded to let anyone in, and over time, it had hardened into a shell that didn’t let anyone in. Her anger smarted, but he knew that he had nobody else to blame but himself. He should have spoken up.
“There’s no need,” she said. “I’m fine.”
She wasn’t. He knew she wasn’t. But Nina turned toward the driver and shook his hand, all traces of her feelings wiped off. Her walls had gone down, and Hayden was locked out.
The ride back was similarly icy. Even the driver seemed to pick up on the silence and gave up trying to point out interesting facts about St. Lucia after the first few minutes. Hayden wanted to try to explain, but he could see that it would only make things worse. Nina wasn’t ready to listen to anything he had to say, replying only with monosyllables.
He shook his head, frustrated by his own stupidity. Who did he think she was, just another silly bimbo girl at the bar? Nina was way smarter than that, and he had miscalculated. A lot. The only thing he could do was wait until they were alone again, or risk embarrassing her further.
At least they were in a beautiful place. Maybe that would allay her anger a little bit. The resort that her mother had picked out was spectacular. Not only was the resort ground completely separated from all the other hotels in St. Lucia, they would have their own private ‘sanctuaries’ as the hotel called them, complete multiple bedrooms, kitchens, and a living room that opened out to a private infinity pool. Hayden had hoped that they would be able to get to know one another by sharing the suite together.
“What is this?” she asked, as the bellboy finished dropping off their bags and closed the door behind him.
“I hoped that we would be able to get to know one another a bit better this weekend. It is the first time we’ve seen each other in person.”
“And you thought that I’d want to start by sharing a room?”
He had to admit that it sounded like a pretty stupid idea. God, he just couldn’t think straight when it came to her!
“Well, I didn’t think that you’d want to sleep with me right away, no,” Hayden replied. He saw her look away, red suffusing her cheeks. She looked so sweet and perfect right then, he wanted to cross the room and sweep her into his arms. “Believe me, I know this looks bad. I hadn’t intended for what happened on the plane.”
“And what did happen on the plane?”
She looked so fragile and hopeful. He walked across the room slowly. Nina looked like she could bolt any second, and that was the last thing he wanted to have happen. Finally he stopped, even though she was close, so tantalizingly close. His heart and his body ached for her.
“Us…” he said softly. Looking down at her, he smiled, hoping that it would coax her’s out too. “Instead of just me and you, it became ‘us’ on that plane ride.”
Her eyes darted to his and away, as if she couldn’t believe she was hearing those words. Hayden couldn’t resist any longer. He had held out because he hadn’t been sure, because he didn’t want to rush things until they could have talked through what it might mean now that they were going to be step siblings, but none of that seemed to matter to him in that moment.
Cupping Nina’s face in his hands, he kissed her, soft at first, but harder, desire urging him forward. Hayden pulled her small body close to his, his hands running around her waist so she was snug against him. He had her in his arms at last, and he didn’t ever want to let go. She tasted good, better than anything else simply from the fact that it was Nina, the woman he’d fallen in love with. He could feel her pressing back, her arms closing tightly over his shirt. Their tongues twined, dancing and moving against one another so naturally that it felt that they always had been together.
Billionaire-Stepbrother Obsession
I am absolutely certain this is not a good idea, not a good idea at all. Nervous and a bit scared, l wonder who I'm kidding. This is insane. Utterly. But there is a longing in my chest that isn't leaving me a choice. Just my luck that I had to fall head over heels for my own stepbrother, Jimmy. The one guy that I should stay far away from. But I can't, not any longer. I've denied my feelings for him for far too long, feigning ignorance of my own feelings for convention's sake.
I mean, what would people say if I presented him as my boyfriend? That's not even talking about how mom and dad would respond. That is what has held me back for so long. The last Christmas was t
he most terrible ever by far. I'd do anything to avoid Jimmy. Anything.
Being near him was one big heartache from start to finish. But I'd fake it. Fake being happy around him while I was pining away for so much more than the casual interaction that was the norm. After he returned to college, I tried to forget about my feelings and distract myself by focusing in on all the hot guys available at school. Plenty of them who made it clear they'd love to lay their hands on me. Hell, I even came close to just go with the flow. But that is not how the heart operates.
At night, each night, it was always Jimmy who would appear in my mind as I stared into the darkness of my room. The one guy who just did it for me. The one guy who would make a warmth explode in my chest that was always followed by a heartache that I tried to deny. My stepbrother the hunk and the sweetest guy ever, also heir to a multi-billion corporate empire.
That is how it has been for months now. And you know what? I even thought I could get away with it. Told myself that I'd get over it. Shows how foolish I can be when I want to. But when he returned home from college for the summer vacation two weeks ago, the warmth that exploded in my chest the moment I laid eyes on him told me that enough is enough. Teaching me one vital lesson: you can only fool yourself for so long. I've been on a non-stop seduction campaign ever since, but not getting anywhere near the kind of feedback that I'm after. So today I intent to go for the kill, all or nothing. Consequences be damned.
I know that I am being foolish. Maybe even juvenile and just acting my age. I'm also only too aware that maybe he just doesn't feel for me the way I feel for him, a thought that has my heart sink in my chest like the Titanic; broken in two and beyond repair. But my heart isn't going down without a fight. I'd rather make a fool of myself and know for certain that it wasn't meant to be than hide in fear for the heartache that the thought of his rejection brings.
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