My Hot Stepbrother: A Second Chance Romance

by Aria Ford

  As they crawled into bed one night, Arran pulled Gabrielle close and began to kiss her. “I cannot imagine what would have happened if I’d not found you,” he said, remembering the terror he’d felt when he’d arrived back in Vegas and found her gone. “I would have gone mad looking for you.”

  “I’m glad you found me, too,” Gabrielle whispered, kissing his chest with little flicks of her tongue. His nipples were sensitive and her lips pulled at them until he was erect and bobbing, needing her pussy for relief.

  Arran played with her nipples as well, and her pussy went wet and hungry, the muscles spasming in waves that made her moan. He chuckled, teasing her with his fingers for penetration, entering and withdrawing just as she was about to release. She cursed him for withholding himself and finally, he rolled over upon her and entered her deeply with a possessive need to claim what he knew had been intended for him all along. His hips slammed into hers as thousands of years of domination by the hunter man sought the tender, internal prey that was woman. Gabrielle pulled him closer, holding him deep within herself, her vaginal muscles refusing to release him until at last, by force, he withdrew. “I love you, Arran,” she whispered and he returned the sentiment, his body moist from the exertion of lovemaking. “Don’t ever leave me again, do you promise?” she begged. He nodded and held her close.

  “The same goes for you,” he said and she agreed.

  Nine months later, Victoria Ann was born to them in the same hospital where Baby Arran had been born. She was the image of her mother, right down to the green eyes and a soft fuzz of silvery hair covered her head.

  Gabrielle had wanted a girl so badly. She wanted to spoil her; to give her dolls and toys and beautifully feminine clothes. She wanted to give Victoria all the things she’d been denied as a child. Arran allowed her this; he knew she needed to wipe out the memory of her youth and Victoria certainly was easy to spoil.

  Gabrielle made the most of the Louisville nursery for Victoria. She decorated it in a pale, pale blue with gauze curtains and a four-poster bed where she slept when Victoria was fussing in the night. There were shelves of dolls and tiny dressers that held their clothes. There was a rocking horse that was painted to look as though it had come straight from a carousel and a white rocker where Gabrielle held her and read her stories while Baby Arran crawled around on the carpet and listened as he played. The children had a nanny but Gabrielle loved spending time with them both.

  Gabrielle had made many friends at all of their houses, but her favorite was still Margie. Gabrielle had convinced Arran to buy a small daycare business and it included a very cozy little house. They gave it to Margie to run and live there with her brood of children. The long-term effect was that her children, no longer left alone for long hours, began to calm down and turned out to be model children.

  Gabrielle spent some hours working with Arran. He often sought her input before making a major business decision. She had the unique American perspective that he valued so highly. She was very popular among his business contacts with her rare beauty and Arran swore that she closed more deals than he’d ever thought of doing. This flattered her. It felt good to be needed and valued. It felt good to have a family. Most of all, it felt very, very good to be in love with a husband as handsome and successful as Arran Muhalla. They were the ideal couple living a fairy-tale life and as the years passed, they would come to have two more boys. Victoria was spoiled, just as her mother intended, but no one said a word. There were two silver-haired princesses ruling, after all.

  The End

  A Week with The Billionaire

  There was no way I could know that I would meet someone like Jeffrey at my niece's preschool art show, but I did. I hadn't expected it or prepared for something like it, but I had, at least, dressed nicely. I was wearing a blue flared A-line dress with a subtle pattern and pink pumps. I had my dark black hair in curled ringlets that fell down past my collarbone. Even if I wasn't ready emotionally or psychologically to meet someone, I certainly looked the part. Though all of the artists were under the age of five, I was giving each series of paintings and crafts a good and thorough look-over.

  I glanced up and saw him across the room, next to a patchwork quilt and van Gogh-inspired paintings. His hair was all white and even from across the room, I could tell his sparkling eyes were blue. I looked back at the artwork quickly, to avoid ogling at him. I moved toward my sister and pulled her aside.

  "Lynn," I said eagerly. "What do you think of that guy over there?"

  "Which one?" she asked.

  "That one," I replied, subtly inclining my head in his direction.

  Lynn said, "White hair? He looks so young."

  "Doesn't he?"

  "He isn't your type, for one thing," she told me.

  "My type?"

  "Yeah, your type is tall, dark, and brooding."

  "What do you think?" I said, stealing a glance at him as he joked with some teachers.

  "I think the more important question is what do you think?," she turned the question back on me.

  I studied him out of the corner of my eye for a moment before responding. "He seems pretty vivacious. He is handsome, for sure, and wears his confidence on his sleeve."

  "He's probably a Leo. You know me, I'm good with the zodiac," she said, looking back at him.

  He was ending his conversation and beginning to peruse the art. I watched as a child went up to him and tugged on his collared shirt sleeve. He turned and kneeled down, getting on the child's level. They talked and then the little one handed the man a piece of artwork. I looked away, and then back at Lynn.

  "Lynn, help me out."

  "I have a child to attend to, by the way. Single motherhood is nothing like the commercials."

  "Should I go over and talk to him?" I asked.

  "Do what you want," she said, sounding distracted.

  "Lynn," I said, but turned to see what she had been looking at. Her daughter had dumped a bucket of lunch boxes onto the floor. Lynn hurried over to clean it up and I turned toward the man with white hair, only to find that he was gone.

  I spotted him again after a few minutes looking around the room. He was two or three people away from me and soon, I was caught up in a conversation with Lynn's daughter's teacher. She turned me toward a series they had done with some children from the class. I looked in awe at the paintings and then when the conversation was over, I turned away from the teacher and found myself staring into a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

  He was stunningly handsome up close. He smiled and subtle crow's feet appeared beside eyes that looked at me like I was the only woman in the room. He had dimples, which made him look younger than he might be. I had a hard time placing his age, but could immediately tell that I was in trouble.

  Overcome with the attraction I was feeling for him, I backed away a step. I bumped into a little girl behind me and I bent down to apologize. When I got back up, he was gone. I moped back over to Lynn.

  "I think I missed my opportunity," I told her.

  "Not quite," she said, "here comes your lover boy."

  I looked up to see him making a beeline for me.

  In a moment, he was in front of me and put his hand out, "Jeffrey."

  We shook hands and my sister bowed her head and turned away. Neither Jeffrey nor I made any notice; we stared solely at one another.

  "I'm Raina."

  "Raina," he repeated, rolling my name around on his tongue.

  "Mhmm,” I replied dumbly.

  "What brings you to the art show?" he asked.

  "My niece, actually."

  He nodded, "No kids of your own?"

  "Nope, what about you?"

  "Nope."

  "So what brings you here?" I asked.

  "I’m on the Board of Education," he replied. "I like to stop in and see what the students are up to from time to time."

  "Really? I’ve been to a few events but I’ve never seen you before.”

  "That’s because I’ve been out of
town for a lengthy stay until just recently."

  "Well that sounds awfully interesting,” I said, wondering where his travels had taken him.

  "Yes, but enough about me," he said. Tell me something about you."

  I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. I hated talking about myself. “What is it you would like to know?” I asked.

  “Hmm, you know what I do, why don’t you tell me what you do,” he said.

  I nodded. “Well I studied political science at Berkley, but I’m a journalist,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

  His eyes twinkled. “It doesn’t sound like you have a great passion for it,” he observed.

  “Wow, you’re very perceptive,” I said. “I mean, I like the research, the writing, even the reporting. It’s the people I don’t like. People aren’t always that nice.”

  Jeffrey nodded and smiled at me. “Yeah, that’s for sure,” he agreed.

  I smiled back and stood rooted to the floor in front of him, unsure of what to say or do next.

  "So, should I go and leave you to check out more artwork?" he asked after an awkward silence.

  "No, no," I said, putting my hand on his arm. "Stay."

  "Want to look at it together?" he asked.

  "I would like that," I said.

  "So, this is one of my favorite pieces by a student named Ben," he said, pointing at a mosaic that had been made by toddler sized hands. "Then this one is pretty great," he said, pointing to a new one. We continued to look at the walls of art like that together before we stopped at the entrance, where Lynn and her daughter were ready to go.

  "They’re my ride, I have to go, sorry," I said.

  "That's quite all right."

  "Listen, I want to see you again," I blurted out, surprising even myself.

  He picked up a pen and paper from the desk he was leaning on and slid them in my direction. I wrote down my number and he picked it up and smiled before putting it in his breast pocket.

  "Have a good night, Jeffrey."

  "Have a good night, Raina."

  He reached out and grabbed my hand, placing a kiss on the back, and I felt a jolt of electricity course through my system. Despite only having just met him, I felt an odd connection to Jeffrey and I knew that my initial thought had been a correct one. I was in big trouble.

  * * *

  Jeffrey called me the next day and we planned a date for the upcoming Saturday. I waited outside my apartment building for him and he showed up promptly at the designated time. He pulled to the curb in a sleek silver sports car and I ducked into it after he had come around to open the door for me.

  "So, what is it you do?" I asked as we drove away.

  "I’m in finance," he said, vaguely.

  "That sounds interesting," I said, not knowing the first thing about the subject.

  "Not really, but it pays the bills," he said.

  He continued to drive as we began talking.

  "So, what is it you have planned for the day?" I asked.

  "I thought we could go to Balboa Park."

  "It's right next to my job and I've never gone," I told him.

  "You’ve never been to Balboa Park? Really?"

  "Yes, really."

  "Then, we're going for sure," he said.

  "Great, I can't wait."

  Within minutes, we pulled up to the park which housed two museums. As we walked through the first, we talked about where we had lived prior to our current residences and discovered that we had both been in Santa Barbara around the same time. We even knew some of the same people. I found myself wondering how I’d never run into him before.

  We walked next into the Museum of Human Anatomy and I was amazed by the displays.

  "I love the amazing detail," I said, turning to him.

  Jeffrey was staring at me with his brilliant blue eyes in a way that made me feel almost naked under his gaze. After what seemed like a long moment, he turned his eyes back to the painting.

  "I like it, too; quite a bit actually."

  We then went to the botanical gardens and walked around among the beautiful plants and flowers. While we were there, we talked about our families and what they were like. He loved his while I couldn't stand mine.

  "I'll probably never get to meet them, then?" he asked.

  I was a little taken aback by the question. I had known the man all of a few hours and he was talking about meeting my family. A little thrill crept up my spine at the thought that a man as handsome as Jeffery was that interested in me already.

  I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Not if you’re lucky,” I said, wryly.

  “That’s too bad,” he mused. “I’ve often known that my family wasn’t like a lot of others’ and for that, I’ve always been grateful. I’m sorry you don’t feel the same way about yours.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “It is what it is,” I said. “So, tell me what makes your family so fabulous?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation back to him.

  "We love one another and are always there to support each other," he said simply.

  "That's not quite the kind of family I have," I chuckled.

  “That’s really too bad,” Jeffrey said.

  I started walking again, determined not to let the subject of my crappy family ruin this day. I spotted a large rose bush with flowers of bright yellow and I wandered over to it, a smile spreading across my face.

  “I take it from the smile on your face that you like yellow roses?” Jeffrey observed.

  I nodded vigorously. “Yes, they are my absolute favorite,” I said.

  “Good to know,” he said, tapping his finger to his temple as if to commit it to memory.

  I looked to him and smiled again. There was something about being with him that made me feel light and happy. I did not typically attract guys that were light and happy. This was a nice change.

  “You have a very lovely smile,” Jeffrey said, his eyes playing over my face.

  “Thank you,” I responded. “You make it easy to smile.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, reaching down to take my hand in his as we continued through the display.

  We walked out of the botanical gardens and sat beside the fountain, watching the other people come and go, continuing to get to know one another.

  As we sat, a large white dog came bounding up the to fountain for a drink, dragging his poor owner behind him on his leash. The dog splashed happily and lapped up the cool water as I laughed at the poor guy, trying to drag him away.

  "So, small dogs or big?" Jeffrey asked me.

  "Big, not like that one, though," I said, nodding toward the white beast in the fountain.

  "Big for me, too."

  "Cats or dogs?" I asked.

  "Dogs," he said.

  I replied, "See, I like cats."

  ”Oh no, our first fight,” Jeffrey said, winking at me.

  “How will we ever get past it?” I asked, laughing.

  We continued on our way and enjoyed the photography exhibit and had lunch at the restaurant. It was easy and nice talking to him, something I had never experienced with any other guy before.

  "That was quite a day," I said, as he dropped me off at my home.

  "It was really quite a day,” he agreed.

  "I enjoyed every minute of it."

  "As did I," he said, rubbing his hand through his white-blonde hair. I wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Did he want to kiss me? Should I kiss him? Should I leave it at a hug or a handshake? God, I was so terrible at this. No wonder I was still single! Luckily, Jeffrey took the lead. He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it with soft, supple lips. A flash of electricity traveled through my system and I could feel the color creeping into my cheeks.

  “Thank you for spending the day with me, Raina,” he said. “I hope we can do it again sometime.”

  “I hope so too,” I said. “I had a really nice time.”

  Jeffrey bowed slightly, then turned and left. I closed the door
and leaned my back up against it to steady myself. Never before, had I been so attracted to someone so quickly. He had gotten under my skin in the span of only a few hours.

  I was still experienced enough in dating, however, to know that people could sometimes not be what they seemed. I knew not to loosely trust people based on simple attraction.

  So far, though, I was impressed.

  Chapter Two

  Jeffrey called me the next day and asked if I would like to go to the beach with him for a walk on Tuesday. It was all I could do not to blurt out “yes” while he was still talking.

  He came and picked me up and we enjoyed more easy conversation on the way. He opened my door and helped me out of the car before leading me down a small trail along the ocean. I inhaled deeply, the scent of fresh air and saltwater, soothing my senses. The beach had always been one of my favorite places.

  "So what type of journalism do you practice?" he asked as we walked.

  "A little bit of everything. Typically, a client will email several ideas for stories and I can pick and choose which ones I want to do and concentrate on those. I have several clients that I’ve worked with over the years and it’s a nice way to do it because I’m not constantly stuck reporting on only what one client wants. I get to have some variety in my work,” I told him.

  "How long have you been doing this?"

  "Since I graduated from Berkeley two years ago," I answered.

  "So you're about, what, twenty-six, twenty-seven?" he guessed, for the first time trying to gauge my age.

  "Twenty-three. I graduated high school a year and a half early and had already been taking community college classes. I was a little ahead for my age,” I said.

  “That’s impressive,” he noted, looking at me with a new-found appreciation.

  "I was on track to go to college as well but it stalled when I..." he trailed off.

  "When you what? You can be honest with me. Even if it's embarrassing."

  "When I got into finances,” he said finally.