BAD LUST: A Stepbrother Romance (A Step Over the Line Book Book 1)

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BAD LUST: A Stepbrother Romance (A Step Over the Line Book Book 1) Page 1

by Hayes, Aurora




  ~*~

  Aurora Hayes is the secret pen name for best selling erotic romance author Ana W. Fawkes.

  This book is hot.

  This book is wild.

  But the heart of it all, this book is truly a romance story.

  Please enjoy. Please leave a review when you’re finished.

  And then make sure you sign up for the official mailing list of Ana W. Fawkes so you never miss a new release from her – or her secret pen name.

  http://eepurl.com/ADM0j

  ~*~

  BAD LUST

  by

  Aurora Hayes

  ~*~

  Jade:

  It’s supposed to be simple. I’m the good girl, he’s the bad boy. We’re at a party. We get drunk. His eyes are all over me… so I let him be all over me. Simple as that. One crazy night with the sexiest guy in the world. Stripping away all my innocence.

  I’m never going to have to deal with him again. Until my father makes a shocking confession… my father’s now married and I have a new stepbrother. When I meet him, my life forever changes…

  Jake:

  Yeah, I knew the truth of it all. And you know what? I didn’t give damn about it. I take what I want and I forget everything else. So when Jade sees me standing there, being introduced as her new stepbrother, the look on her face is priceless. But something else starts to happen… it turns me on. She’s too pretty and way too tempting to be around.

  I like it. I like her. I like us.

  She’s so innocent and so good. And she has no idea.

  It’s wild and it’s fun… just as long as we don’t get caught – or fall in love.

  Yeah, right.

  1.

  (Jade)

  There’s thirty people in the little dive cafe, half staring at me, half busy with their own conversations, but in the back of my mind I can’t stop thinking about my first and hottest one night stand ever. With bad boy Jake Ziggen, tall, strong, athletic, the guy who could have any girl at any time. I took pride that a guy like Jake would never get into my pants, until I let him. And it was so worth it.

  Well, worth it until I found him fucking a girl in the bathroom at the little dive cafe… and he looked at me with his cocky grin and had no fucking clue who I was.

  He didn’t remember me.

  But I totally remembered him.

  The night is spinning around me. I’m not meant to be in this place. I’m meant to be studying classical piano and become the good girl poster child for my father who has plans to take his business acumen and enterprise into a more political role, and I’m apparently a key part of it all.

  Let’s go back a few steps first though.

  My name is Jade Werlem. Not that it really matters in life, but at least there’s a name to this mess called my life. I’m sneaking around tonight, even though I don’t have to. My father is out of town on vacation to some island. I don’t really care that he’s gone; he takes these trips after making big deals or big decisions. There’s a big house with plenty of people to keep their eyes on me.

  I stand off to the side of the stage and look at my best friend, Katelyn, as she reads some kind of poetry thing about a guy she had been sleeping with. Turns out this guy had a girlfriend who went home for a semester to help with her sick father. That made Katelyn something fun on the side. She didn’t take well to it. Her poetry offered to cut off the guy’s dick and make him eat it. She also suggested sticking his dick somewhere else, making me wonder how many dicks this guy actually had.

  I’m not standing there for the good of Katelyn, although she did force me out of the house for once. I never went out because it just wasn’t my thing, at all. My father preferred to keep me under his watch and make sure that nothing negative could happen. My image was key to his personal success. He told me I was the only thing he had that went right in his life, but the words were always as processed as the hair oil shit he ran through his hair to keep a sleek and clean shine.

  My mother left us when I was a little girl. I remember the day it all happened, too. I was in pigtails with a light blue dress on. I had spent the morning setting up for a tea party, making sure all the right stuffed animals had been invited (at that time, my stuffed giraffe had a bad attitude about things and was totally banned from tea parties). It was hard work for a five year old girl. There was one empty seat left, for my mother, but when I got to the top of the stairs, I heard her and my father fighting, again, and this time she left. For good. She looked up at me, tears in her eyes, and didn’t even wave. My father looked up at me, shaking his head. I asked him to join me for the tea party but he said he had to get back to his company. Less than ten years later, he was a multi-millionaire. But being rich didn’t mean he had more time.

  I haven’t had a tea party since then.

  And I got rid of the giraffe the following week, fearing his bad attitude was the reason why my mother left.

  On the small stage, Katelyn is rubbing her pointer and thumb together.

  “No, this isn’t me playing the world’s smallest violin for him,” she says. “This is me giving him a hand job!”

  The little crowd bursts into a fit of laughter.

  Katelyn is loud and beautiful. She’s wild and crazy, loves life, and honestly doesn’t give a shit about anything. The total opposite of me. I’m programmed to give a shit about everything. Right now, I can’t stop looking over my shoulder at the bathroom door.

  He’s right in there. He’s got her pinned against the wall. Her legs wrapped tight around his body. His pants down to his ankles. His amazing ass tightening, flexing with each hard thrust of his body to hers.

  Just like he did to me…

  It was completely rare for me to get out two times in a week, but remember, my father is out of town. The stories and press are trying to find him on whatever island he’s at right now. They don’t care about me when he’s not around. Which is weird, because this is generally my chance to get out and have some fun.

  Like when Katelyn forced me to go to the party with her. Where I bumped into Jake and spilled his drink.

  “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I…”

  “You spilled my drink, sweetie.”

  “Yeah, I did. I’ll get you another one.”

  “Or you can make it up to me another way.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “You can suck me off. I think that’s fair.”

  My jaw hits the floor. I blink fast. I collect myself and try to look disgusted. I mean, he is disgusting, right? Jake is disgusting. Tall, wide shoulders, scruffy hair and face. Just… disgusting.

  “Is that how you hit on girls?” I ask.

  “No. It’s how I’m backing you into a corner so I could fuck you. Pretty little rich girl. Have you ever had a cock in your ass before?”

  I slap him across the face. The reaction is instant and I instantly regret it.

  “Shit,” I say. “I’m drunk. I…”

  “Now you have to kiss it,” he says.

  I swallow hard and feel something hit my back. I put my hands back and realize I’m against a wall. Jake has somehow taken over my mind and forced me backwards into a wall. He’s sexy and smooth. I’m turned on. And he’s inches from me.

  Jake turns his head and taps his cheek. “Come on, sweetie. Kiss it.”

  The party is booming. The music is playing. Everyone is packed into this townhouse, enjoying their college life. My heart is pounding hard, my mind reminding myself I don’t do shit like this. Ever. I don’t slap guys. I don’t let them talk to me like this. And I
definitely don’t kiss their cheek.

  Yet here I am, inching forward toward Jake’s cheek.

  I mean, it’s freaking Jake Ziggen. He’s kind of famous for not just his attitude and social problems, but because of his once famous musician mother. He doesn’t fit the mold for what he should be and it makes him super hot.

  My lips touch his cheek and I linger maybe a second longer than I should. I shut my eyes… why? I open my mouth to pull away from Jake’s stubbly cheek. I open my eyes and I realize Jake has turned his head. He’s facing me and his lips are pressed to mine.

  He tricks me into a kiss…

  I feel like slapping him, but the kiss is so fucking good.

  The small crowd claps and Katelyn takes a little bow. She walks off the side of the stage and throws an elbow to my arm. She snaps me out of my fantasy trance. It’s the only thing I can think about. How good Jake felt when he was on top of me, inside me.

  “How was that?” Katelyn asks.

  “Good,” I say. “Really good. You’re funny. And crazy.”

  “It’s what I do best. I’m getting a drink. You ready to play some songs?”

  “Nope. I don’t want to do this.”

  “Don’t be a pussy about it,” Katelyn says. “You came out here to do this. You are really good at piano and your songs are really amazing. So just do it. If you need a second, go in the bathroom and splash water on your face.”

  “Yeah…”

  I look back again.

  The bathroom.

  Where Jake was fucking some girl. Where Jake looked right into my eyes and had no clue who I was.

  I wasn’t a virgin, but I wasn’t experienced in sex either. I sort of lost my virginity once and then Jake took care of that during our one night stand. I lost myself that night with him and I don’t regret it. I regret he doesn’t remember me. Which is probably foolish… it’s Jake, he probably doesn’t remember anyone. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know the name of the girl he’s fucking right now. Right there in the bathroom. Right where I’m staring.

  But we were both drunk that, too.

  No big deal, right? It was a total college thing. It happened all the time, I’m sure.

  I didn’t tell Katelyn about that night with Jake. And I’m definitely not doing it now, not with Jake not remembering me. It would make it seem like I had made up the whole story. My reputation as the dorky, good girl who took piano lessons would then take a wild twist as the girl who made up sex stories with the hottest and most bad guy in the same damn college.

  Katelyn goes to the bar and I start to inch back. I’m tempted to go into the bathroom again. To see. To watch. It’s all wild in my mind, but it seems less of a risk than actually getting on the small stage and playing a song I wrote. I shouldn’t be so shy, but I’m used to having a script. My father or his publicist and people telling me what to wear, how to walk, when to smile, and giving me the general answers to invasive questions. It was how he maintained his bachelor status for so long. The great father who took care of his daughter alone. A rich single father who somehow grew his software company into a massive corporation.

  My father never wanted me to actually pursue music at first. But the lessons kept me our of his hair, unless he needed me. I became a parlor trick for him when entertaining friends and clients. I’d be forced to play a few songs and he’d dab his eyes with an expensive napkin, and then toast to me for being such a strong and beautiful girl.

  And all that did was bring in cash for him. Sympathy and cash.

  A guy with a hat on backwards jumped up on the stage and started to mess with the wires to hook up the keyboard. It was my time to get on the stage and play. I knew all the songs. I wrote them. But I couldn’t get on stage and do this.

  I turn and move to the bathroom.

  I gently open the door, biting my bottom lip as I do so. I need to escape for a second. I stand in the bathroom, waiting to hear something. It’s too quiet for people to be in here, screwing.

  Maybe Jake and the girl already left the bathroom and I didn’t see them.

  Whatever, right?

  I walk to the sink and as I’m about to touch the faucet, I hear a whimpering cry. I jump and gasp. I slowly look to the mirror and see feet. Two feet, arches up. My mind races, thinking Jake did something really bad. This girl is crying because of him?

  I have heard nasty things about Jake. The way he treats women. Uses them and loses them. Maybe he promised this one something and when he finished fucking her, he bolted. That wouldn’t surprise me at all.

  That’s exactly what he did to me. But I wanted it that way.

  I wait a few seconds and hear the whimpering sound again. I quickly grab a piece of paper next to the sink and move to help the poor girl. I figure I could say something to her about Jake. Make her not feel so alone in this.

  I creep along the bathroom stalls and turn the corner. I open my mouth to get her attention, but all my words are stolen. Hell, my breath is stolen. My ability to move is stolen. I’m frozen solid at the sight before me.

  It’s the same woman, yes, but she’s not whimpering or crying in pain. She’s on her knees in the damn bathroom while Jake sits on a small leather couch, his hand at the back of her head, pressing hard as her mouth pleasures him. He lets out a grunt and then looks right at me.

  He smirks again and I’m standing there like an idiot with a piece of paper towel in my hand thinking I’m going to help this woman stop crying.

  But she’s far too busy to even know I’m there.

  Jake winks at me and puckers his lips. He mouths to me… Hey. You want a turn, sweetie?

  My body warms over. I shake my head. I don’t want a turn. I had a turn already. And Jake stares at me like I’m a goddamn stranger. More than that, he doesn’t give a shit that someone’s watching this. In fact, he makes it all hotter…

  Jake puts both hands to the woman’s shoulders and lifts her. “Hey, stop that.”

  Her mouth comes off him with a wet sound. “What’s wrong?” she asks, out of breath.

  “Get up here. Get on me. I want to fucking fill you up.”

  Dirty talk. And I’m standing right there. The same shit he said to me.

  The woman climbs up his body. She has no idea I’m there. Why the hell am I here? I should just turn and walk away. But I kind of can’t.

  Jake is fast and perfect as this seduction and screwing stuff. His hands slide down the woman’s body, keeping her attention to him. He lifts up her dress and she’s not wearing any panties. He positions the woman over him and then grips himself.

  I can’t help but look at his cock.

  He did the same fucking thing to me…

  I think I want it again. But if he doesn’t remember me, what chance do I have?

  2.

  (Jade)

  His hand holds mine tight. He takes me to the stairs and I’m following him. I look around the party, trying to find Katelyn. We’re really not supposed to really break apart but I can’t help myself right now. The three drinks I had are making me feel really loose. On top of that, Jake is sloppy drunk and aggressive.

  Once we’re upstairs, he kicks open a door, and he throws me into the room. The door slams and he points to the bed.

  “Sit,” he growls.

  I sit.

  He approaches me, his hands on his pants. He opens them and pushes them right down, showing me his massive cock. He pops free and strokes himself once, then touches my cheek with the same hand.

  I’m shaking. I’m so wet it’s uncomfortable.

  “See what you do to me?” he asks. “That pretty, rich girl thing drives me fucking crazy. All those fucking whores down there would do anything because of who I am. But you’re the temptation, not me. Are you a virgin?”

  I gasp. “That’s personal…”

  “You’re right. I’ll find out soon enough. Now open your fucking mouth, sweetie. You look hungry.”

  Again, I should stand and run. Slap him again. Kick him in the balls.


  But I don’t.

  I reach forward, place my shaking fingers around his thick shaft, and I open my mouth.

  Because it’s fucking Jake. And he wants me.

  I put my back against the wall outside the bathroom. There’s no real set start or stop times for things. It’s just a simple open mic night. And nobody really comes to watch anyone talk, sing, or play an instrument. It’s just a fun hangout.

  I need to think about my songs. The notes to play. The lyrics to sing. But all I can think about is the thickness of Jake’s cock. Him lifting and lowering that woman to him. Over and over. His fingers digging into her ass, his middle fingers between her cheeks, probably tempting his fingertips somewhere else.

  Just like he did to me.

  “Hey, there she is,” a voice yells.

  It’s Katelyn, waving at me. She points and whistles.

  People look at me. A few start to clap. I give a nervous wave. I wonder if anyone recognizes me. They don’t seem like the type that would give a damn about my father though.

  I walk toward the side of the stage and walk up on it. I walk to the keyboard and sit down. There’s a few dim lights on me. I look at the tables. Half are full. A few people are looking at me. Waiting. A few others are talking. Some have their eyes wide, glued to their cell phones.

  “Hey,” I say into the mic. My voice booms and I’m scared.

  “Hey!” a few people call back at me.

  I swallow. I put my fingers to the keys.

  My father once told me that if I ever get nervous, just shut my eyes for a second and take a breath. That’s what he would do before big meetings.

  I shut my eyes. I start to take a breath… and it takes me back to Jake.

  My mouth pulls back on him. He steps back, teasing me with his cock. I lick my lips, wanting more. I only ever did this to two other guys. One didn’t finish and the other did, but he pulled away and turned while he came. No surprise that my sex life and stories are boring and sad.

 

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