by Wild, Nikki
Richard: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance
By Nikki Wild
Copyright 2015 Nikki Wild
All Rights Reserved
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–Nikki Wild
CONTENTS
Richard: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance
One : Jessica
Two : Richard
Three : Jessica
Four : Richard
Five : Jessica
Six : Richard
Seven : Jessica
Eight : Richard
Nine : Jessica
Ten : Richard
Eleven : Jessica
Twelve : Richard
Thirteen : Jessica
Fourteen : Richard
Fifteen : Jessica
Sixteen : Richard
Seventeen : Jessica
Eighteen : Richard
Nineteen : Jessica
Twenty : Richard
Bonus Novel: HOT
Bonus Novel, Stepbrother Fixation
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_ ONE _
Jessica
I usually didn’t like parties. Everything was always so loud and the concept of personal space seemed a foreign idea. I didn’t like them one bit. They were messy, and I hated messy things. I didn’t get to be where I was by letting my life get messy. But when it came time for graduation I needed some way to say goodbye to all my friends, and throwing a party seemed like the perfect way to do it.
The party itself wasn’t my idea. I owed that all to my best friend, Becky Sanders, who among other things, was the only person I’d ever see again after tonight. Even the house we were using was Becky’s—her parents’, anyway. And despite all my misgivings about the idea, somehow everything actually seemed to be working out in my favor.
The music was a mix of the latest pop artists, some of whom I’d never heard of in my life, though Becky promised me that they would go over well with the guests. I’d spent most of my high school life with my head in a book, surfacing only to practice my violin and maybe attend a mathlete event for the school. I didn’t listen to much music outside of Chopin or Mozart, let alone artists like Katy Perry or Lady Gaga, but the guests all seemed to be enjoying themselves, mingling and talking with one another. I was proud of myself, in fact, for putting on what I felt was a rather sophisticated affair as opposed to some disorganized orgy where the partygoers spent the whole night grinding on one another.
“So, what do you think?”
I turned toward Becky’s voice, offering her a faint, cautious smile. It was a hard question to answer, since I was thinking quite a lot, but she more than likely wanted my opinion on our little soiree.
“It’s… good. I think,” I said around another awkward smile. Her own smile faltered, and I quickly tried to rephrase. “I mean, I’m having a good time. It’s a really nice party. I just… I’m not used to being around so many people at once. I mean, I know them all—most of them, anyway—but still, being in a crowd like this puts me a little on edge.”
Becky’s smile returned as she pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. “How is it that you managed to score a boyfriend before me? You’re like the queen of awkward, Jess. I mean, you hardly ever go out, and then you get a hunk like Michael, of all people, to fall for you.”
I felt my stomach drop as she mentioned my ex-boyfriend’s name. It had only been a few weeks since our last breakup, and the wounds were still fresh. I swallowed, remembering how things with Michael had been. Bittersweet was probably the most appropriate term to describe our relationship—mostly bitter, toward the end.
“I don’t really want to talk about Michael right now,” I said, wrapping myself up in my arms. “It’s bad enough you invited him.”
“You two are so cute together, though!” she said, looking into the crowd where Michael was holding court with a few of his friends. “I thought having him here would help you to patch things up with him.”
Unlike most of the people who ran in our circles, Michael didn’t fit the typical stereotype, especially not in looks. He was brilliant, charming, handsome, and had an impeccable sense of style. It didn’t hurt that he had parents who had spoiled him from the day he was born. But there was a much darker side to the handsome man that was Michael Claiborne.
“I don’t think I want to patch things up with Michael, Becky,” I said, looking toward the handsome young man one more time.
“Oh, it can’t have been that bad. Look, if you’re not interested do you mind if I give him a try?”
“Trust me, you don’t want anything to do with Michael,” I said, giving her a stern look. “Michael is bad news.”
“Well tell me why!” she complained, pouting like a scolded child. “Why would you dump him?”
“I said that I don’t want to talk about it,” I replied, lowering my voice to a hiss. “Please, can we talk about something else?”
Becky looked at me for a moment, scrunching up her face. She seemed utterly baffled by my refusal to discuss what she could only assume was a simple breakup—but it had been so much more than that. Michael had brought out a side of me that I felt ashamed of, a side that I never wanted to see the light of day for as long as I lived.
“Sorry,” she said after a moment of silence. “I’m just so used to you confiding in me that it felt weird that you’d keep something from me.”
“It’s just… not something I’m completely ready to talk about yet,” I said, reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. “And besides, you already know all of my secrets as it is. I deserve to have one of my own.”
“You’ve got the best secrets, though,” she giggled, biting on her lip. “Ok, forget about Michael… What about that… Other thing…”
“Becky—” I began, but before I could finish the sentence she was already talking a mile a minute.
“How have you not even tried yet? I mean, you have to see him every day, and now that Michael and you aren’t a thing, what’s stopping you? He’s like the hottest guy in school! Even compared to Michael. How are you not hitting that, girl?”
“There are people around,” I whispered, trying to stop her before she said something I’d regret. “We can’t talk about that here! We can’t talk about that anywhere!”
“But your brother is so fucking hot,” she countered.
“Stepbrother,” I corrected, pulling her away from a group of guests. “And I know he’s hot, Becky!”
“But you want him! I mean, you tell me all the time how you think about him while you’re—”
“Hush!” I tried to silence her again, but she just grinned.
“God, I don’t get you, Jessica. How are you able to resist a hunk of meat like that? You’re not with Michael anymore. You kno
w you could do it.”
“He’s my brother!”
“Stepbrother,” she corrected this time, a smirk on her face. “You two aren’t actually related. He doesn’t even have the same last name!”
“But it’s still weird,” I said, trying to wave the subject away. “And my mom would flip if she found out I had the hots for Richard…”
“But you do have the hots for him! You have the hots for Dick!”
“Oh God… Don’t call him that!” I replied, blushing hard.
“Everybody calls him that, and not just because of his attitude either. I know you’ve heard the rumors,” Becky said, holding her hands apart as if she were telling me about a big fish she’d caught.
“It gets bigger every time you do that,” I laughed.
“Cynthia said it’s pierced,” Becky replied with a crooked smile.
“Cynthia’s been reading too many naughty books. Does every stepbrother need to have a pierced penis?”
“Hey, the least you could do is find out if the rumors are true. It’s not like you two are going to see each other again. He’s going to Yale and you’re staying local at UCLA. I mean, really, what’s the harm in it?”
“It’s weird, Becky!” I insisted, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “And besides, Richard hates me. We’ve never gotten along ever since his dad moved in. He’s the stepbrother from hell.”
“Yeah, he is kind of a dick, isn’t he?”
“Stop it!” I said, hitting Becky on the arm.
“Fine, but seriously, I think he likes you.
“Absolutely not!” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just my stupid crush, Becky. And once I’m at UCLA, I can spend my time doing more productive things like actually getting my degree and…”
“Then your masters and then your doctorate,” she finished for me. “I know, you tell me that all the time. So sue me for wanting my best friend to have a good time, especially at her own party.”
“It’s our party,” I said, giving her a much warmer smile this time.
“Yeah,” she said, sighing wistfully.
I rolled my eyes. “What is it now?”
“Here we are, talking about all your success with the opposite sex,” she said, looking around at the other guests. “And here I am without ever even being kissed once in my life.”
“You’ve been kissed! What about Tom—”
“No,” she interrupted. “Never speak of that again. Nothing about what he did to me was a kiss. I still have nightmares about what that mouth did to my face.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, much to Becky’s chagrin. Becky had always been a completely hopeless romantic, desperate to find someone who would sweep her off her feet and take her to some far off fairytale castle. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that things like that never happened in real life.
“Regardless,” I said, “I hereby promise that you, Becky Janine Sanders, will be kissed before the night is over.”
“You really think that can happen?” she asked me, her eyes going a little wider.
I nodded, giving her another smile before we turned toward the crowd of partiers.
“I do,” I said. “There are plenty of guys here who would die to get some alone time with you, Becky. We can find you someone to kiss before the party is over. I swear on our friendship that I’ll get you kissed tonight.”
“That’s a promise you’d better not break to me, Jess,” she said, an enormous smile lighting up her face as we looked over the crowd of mingling men and women.
“Anyone you’re interested in?” I asked, searching for a suitable guy with at least some knowledge of when to bathe. It might have sounded catty, but when it comes to the intellectual community at a high school, hygiene and social graces usually didn’t come along with genius level IQs. Becky’s options were fairly slim, though judging by the smell, thankfully most of our guests had at least taken the time to put on deodorant tonight.
“Anyone with a pulse, at this point,” she said with a sigh. Becky’s standards for men were fairly high, but her social standing as one of the “nerds” limited her dating options to our own “class” of students. It was one of the reasons I was so ready for college. A fresh start. No preconceptions. No cliques. Or at least I hoped there wouldn’t be…
“Well, don’t worry, we’ll find someone,” I said, gently squeezing her arm to comfort her. “Like I said, there are plenty of men here who would jump at the chance to kiss you.”
An abrupt silence fell over the crowd of guests, the kind you’d expect to hear in a forest when a tiger was on the prowl. I could feel the tension manifest in the air before I ever looked to see why the room had become so hushed. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly cast back toward the front door, their gazes holding the wild glint you’d see in a panicked animal. My stomach clenched.
Did someone come to complain about the party? My parents will kill me if they find out where I am tonight…
“Is something going on? Why’d everyone stop talking?” I asked Becky, who’d also noticed the eerie quiet that pervaded the house, save for the uncomfortable shuffling of some of our guests.
“I don’t know,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder, frowning, her brow furrowed in concern. “You don’t think the cops got called because of…”
Becky’s words faded as she turned to look at what had caused the commotion—or lack thereof. Her eyes went wide and her jaw sagged at what she’d seen. She fell into the same stunned silence as the rest of the guest, swallowing nervously.
Fearing the worst I turned, searching for whatever could have caused such a widespread reaction from so many people at once. At first I didn’t see what everyone was staring at, just the usual crowd of people who’d been in front of the door when Becky and I had passed by it only a few moments ago, but they too were staring, taking more than a few steps back from whatever or whoever had caught their attention. It wasn’t until the crowd parted like the Red Sea that I spotted just what had turned my party as silent as a funeral.
Standing in the doorway was an all-too familiar figure, his lean, muscular body filling out his tight t-shirt just enough to leave little of his physique beneath it to the imagination. His gorgeous, short blond hair was combed back from a face that God himself must have taken his sweet time carving from that smooth, flawless skin. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry as a boneyard. My heart hammered in my chest and my palms became sweaty, and before I even realized it, I had fallen silent just like the rest of the people around me. I couldn’t believe who I was seeing.
“Jess,” Becky whispered. “What is your stepbrother doing here?”
I swallowed hard, trying to find the words to express my own astonishment.
“I don’t know, Becky… He wasn’t supposed to know about the party—I made sure he didn’t know. That was the whole reason we didn’t have it at my house!”
“Well it looks like he found out about it somehow,” she said as we watched that cocky grin form on Richard’s face. Just seeing that damn smile made my cheeks burn—with anger or infatuation, I couldn’t tell which, though one might certainly have led to the other.
“He ruins everything,” I muttered, clenching my fists, summoning up as much anger as I could in hopes of overpowering my almost constant desire to throw myself into against his body.
My party was ruined.
The Dick had arrived.
_ TWO _
Dick
I’d never seen so many sweet little nerds in one place. It was a world of difference from the sea of jocks and cheerleaders I had been swimming in only half an hour before. This would be fun.
I stepped into the room, watching as everything around me almost came to a complete stop. Girls’ heads turned, biting lips as they saw the school’s top football star walk into their quiet little party. Men turned their heads too, though their reactions were certainly much different than their female counterparts. I had a reputation of being less than friendly to the men of
the academic tribe, but that had been sophomore stuff, things I looked back on as childish. I was a man now, not at all interested in the role of bully. With maturity came power.
“H-Hi Richard,” came a mousy little whisper from somewhere to my right. I turned my head, smirking as I spotted a gaggle of bespectacled girls all crowding closer. “We didn’t think you’d come to a party like this.”
They were cute, in that nerdy little librarian sort of way. I could sense a wild side beneath their bookish exterior. Even my own stepsister wore that conservative style with a weird sense of pride.
“Oh,” I said, chuckling as I ran a hand over my short cut hair, “I wouldn’t miss this party for the world, ladies.”
The tittering giggles was almost enough to shatter glass as they started to fawn over me. I certainly didn’t mind. I loved the attention. The spotlight suited me, as did the affection of the women that came with it. Besides, I needed to mingle. The truth was I had come to this particular party for one person and one person only—but I couldn’t possibly let her know that. Not yet…