Stepbrother Romance 2 - Consumed: A New Adult Alpha Billionaire Romance

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Stepbrother Romance 2 - Consumed: A New Adult Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 7

by Taylor, Tawny


  So what was I doing?

  Diving. Into a small tank with one very hungry shark. With my eyes wide open. That was what I was doing.

  We were on Kent’s deck right now, staring into each other’s’ eyes. He’d just kissed me and told me he wanted me so badly he couldn’t control it.

  A million thoughts were racing through my head right now. My heart was slamming against my breastbone like a sledgehammer.

  We had a choice. We could stop all of this right now—or at least try to stop it. Or we could accept the inevitable. Kent had already admitted what I could not. We were both prisoners. Of our own desires. We’ve been taken over. By emotions so powerful we could not contain them, no matter how hard we tried.

  The fact was I loved Kent. I loved him like I’d never loved another man. When we were apart, I felt this nagging emptiness inside. As time passed, the sensation eased a little, but it never went away. And when we were together again, I felt so many things, all at once, it was overwhelming, even after we’d been apart for months.

  When I was with Kent Payne I was more alive in every sense of the word. I didn’t want that to end. Ever. I wanted to belong to him. And I wanted him to belong to me. Even though I shouldn’t.

  But, as much as I wanted to belong to him, I couldn’t let that happen. Not until I understood one thing.

  “Let’s talk.” He took my hand in his and led me to the nearby sitting area with a comfy couch. I sat and he sat next to me.

  Maybe this was my chance, to get the answers I needed.

  “Talk about what?” I asked.

  “Anything you want to. I need to cool off for a minute, before things get out of control. I told myself I would not let that happen again.”

  Would not let that happen again? What did he mean by that? Sex?

  Sighing, he let his head fall back and closed his eyes.

  Okay, this was it. My chance to gather my thoughts and ask the questions that had been ping-ponging through my head. Without the distraction of throbbing, pounding need blasting through me.

  “Why are you divorcing your wife?” I asked as he swung an arm over my shoulders and tucked me against him, holding me gently but firmly. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes and just enjoyed the moment. It felt so good being in his arms. So right. Especially like this. In the dark, quiet night. With nobody around to judge us or tell us what we felt was wrong or dirty. How I wished it could be like this all the time, that we could be free to be together.

  “Why do you want to know? Are you worried it’s because of you?”

  “No. Yes. Maybe a little.”

  He cupped my chin, turned it until I was looking at his face. “It isn’t because of you, Shayne. At least, not entirely.”

  Not entirely? What did that mean? “Will you tell me why?”

  He stared into my eyes for several seconds, searching for something. I wasn’t sure what. Then he released my chin and dropped his gaze. Whatever he was about to say, it was painful. He couldn’t look me in the eye and say it. “My wife never loved me. She only loved my bank account.”

  That didn’t exactly jive with what I’d heard, and I wasn’t going to let it go. After all, Kent was the one who said we could talk about anything. I needed the truth. All of it. “Zack told me you were married a long time ago. Before you became wealthy.”

  “That’s true. But even then she knew I would accomplish more than the guy she really loved. He didn’t graduate from high school. He’s not the ambitious kind. After the hell of her upbringing, she needed money and financial stability to feel safe. But she wanted love too. And I guess she couldn’t have them with one man, with me. So she went to him for love and married me for the money.”

  Then she had been unfaithful? Kent’s wife? Since the beginning of their marriage? Long before I’d had sex with him. Yes, there was more than one side to this story. Just as I’d hoped.

  As far as his wife falling in love with the other man, I was trying hard not to be judgmental, because I knew a man with no money could be just as kind and loving and good as a man who had more than enough. But it sounded like she’d fallen in love with the wrong guy for more than one reason. Kent had proven to be more than a bastard with a big dick and an even bigger bank account. A lot more. Surely she should have seen that by now.

  Obviously my mother didn’t know about Kent’s wife’s lover. I had a feeling Kent’s pride had kept him from telling her. And everyone else, for that matter. He’d rather they thought he was a total asshole than admit he’d married a woman who didn’t love him.

  How sad was that?

  I grabbed his free hand and gave it a squeeze, wanting him to know I was there to support him, to give him the love he had been missing for years. “Where is she now?” I asked. “Why haven’t I seen her?”

  “She’s been living with him for a couple of years. In the condo I pay for, on the other side of town. They’re expecting a child. But I hadn’t bothered to divorce her, not even when I learned she was pregnant. I didn’t see any reason to.”

  “Really?” This blew my mind. This man was financially supporting not only his estranged wife but also the man who was fucking her. And she was pregnant. And, to top it off, hadn’t my mom told me this same woman had demanded I move out of Kent’s house? That had been one of the reasons why Kent had bought me a house. He’d done it in response to her demand.

  Why? Was this guy for real? Was he truly that generous? That forgiving? Or was he hiding something?

  Oh God, what should I believe?

  I was afraid to accept his explanation at face value. What if he was just telling me what he thought I wanted to hear?

  Then again, why would he lie? He didn’t need to, if all he was after was sex. He was the one who’d stopped at a kiss tonight. He was the one who was saying he wouldn’t have sex with me again.

  I asked, “Why would you stay married to a woman like that? I don’t know anyone who would put up with it, let alone support her and her lover.”

  “Because in my eyes there’s only one reason to get a divorce.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, I asked, “And what would that be…?” because clearly it wasn’t infidelity.

  “The only reason to divorce is to allow one or both partners to marry someone else. She was content to keep things the way they were, since the father of her child can’t marry her. And I never had any intention of marrying again.”

  “But then you did file for divorce. So what does that mean?”

  He didn’t answer right away. The silence was absolute torture.

  He looked me directly in the eye and said, “Let’s just say lately a certain woman has made me reconsider my thoughts on a lot of things.” He squeezed my hand.

  My heart swelled to at least twice its normal size. The certain woman was me. Me! Just knowing that the notion of marrying someone else had not only occurred to Kent, but he’d actually taken action to make it possible cast everything in a totally different light. Kent’s feelings for me were strong enough for him to consider something he’d previously dismissed.

  He shifted, turning his body to face me. “But Shayne, I don’t want you to read too much into this. I’m not ready to make any kind of commitment to you, or anyone, for that matter. There’s still a lot we need to deal with. And, to be honest, I’m not sure it’s possible to overcome some of the issues we’ll be facing.”

  “Well, it’s not like I’m expecting a proposal right now,” I told him, smiling, even though my heart was thumping too hard and too fast.

  “I know, but I think you wouldn’t mind hearing some things I can’t say yet.” He cupped my face and looked deep into my eyes. “I can’t tell you I love you, Shayne. As much as you want to hear it. I want you. Desperately. Because I want you to be mine. All mine and only mine. The thought of another man touching you makes me crazy. But that isn’t love. I can’t love you. Not yet. Not until I’ve dealt with some things first. I can’t be the man you deserve until then.”

>   I would be lying if I didn’t admit, if only to myself, that I was a tiny bit disappointed by what he said. He didn’t love me. I was crazy in love with him. But I had to respect his honesty. If I didn’t, I risked him lying to me in the future. And, above all else, I needed him to feel he could be honest with me about anything.

  He added, “And I will not take you again. Not until we can belong to one another, if that’s at all possible. It isn’t fair to you.”

  My mood sank even lower.

  With Mom and Dirk’s house in ruins, I would be sleeping in the room next to Kent’s again. Close to him. Too close. Every night, I would ache for his touch. Every hour I would hunger for his kiss. I would see him. I would smell him. But I couldn’t touch him? It would be pure torture.

  Making matters worse, soon Kent would be free. He was filing divorce so he might possibly, someday, be married again. That was one huge hurdle cleared. One less reason why we couldn’t be together.

  But I couldn’t hug him? Couldn’t kiss him? Couldn’t touch him?

  How would I survive?

  “That isn’t to say I can’t touch you, can’t kiss you, can’t make you scream my name as you come,” he added. “Because I don’t think I can live without your touch, your kiss.”

  Well, that lifted my sagging spirits a little. He wanted me. He longed for me. And he wasn’t going to make me totally suffer. At least I would have his kiss, his touch. If I had to wait for the rest, well, I could wait. Though it would be hard. Really hard. But some things were worth a little pain and agony, right?

  We would find a way to be together. It had to work. Somehow.

  I told him, “I understand, Kent. Thank you. For being honest. I don’t want you to feel you have to keep secrets from me anymore. If there’s something you need to tell me then please do it.”

  “Are you real?” he asked as he cupped my face. “Tell me the truth. You can’t be. You’re too fucking good to be real.”

  “No, I’m real. Every inch of me.”

  “Every luscious, delicious, perfect inch.” He tugged me toward him and kissed me again.

  Instantly, my body flamed with desire.

  But there could be no sex.

  Ugh. He wasn’t making this easy.

  I whimpered, my lips parting, and his tongue slipped inside, filling my mouth with decadent flavor. As his mouth did things to mine that made me breathless, his hands slid up my back, fingers curling into the hair at my nape.

  “Shayne,” he whispered between thrusts of his tongue.

  Was either of us strong enough to hold back? Or would we break under the force of our desire?

  Ripples of heat spread through my body, each one bigger than the one before. My tongue tangled with Kent’s while my hands mapped out every inch of his body they could reach. Thick arms, broad shoulders, sculpted abs.

  He pulled me toward him, and while he continued to devastate my self-control with his lips and tongue, I swung a leg over him, straddling his hips. This was absolute torture. I ached for him to fill me, to stroke away the need burning deep inside. I pressed my throbbing center against the bulge in his pants, wishing there were no clothes between us.

  Someday. Hopefully someday I would feel his weight on top of me again, his thickness penetrating me, filling me.

  Until then this would have to be enough. Kissing. Touching. Holding.

  I reached down and tried to pull his shirt off, but he wouldn’t let me. He kept his arms tight to his sides. But his hands didn’t remain stationary. They traveled up my sides, fingertips grazing the uber-sensitive area along the outsides of my covered breasts.

  I shuddered and whimpered. I would have pleaded for more if I could speak. Responding to his kiss, my body tightened, my sex clenched and unclenched. The scent of my need filled the air.

  Suddenly he fisted my hair and jerked my head back.

  Holy shit! A wicked thrill raced through me. His hunger was so feral.

  I shivered as a white-hot jolt of electricity charged through my body. I was burning up, melting, losing my mind. One mind-blowing sensation after another pummeled my system. The soft husk of our breathing, the scent of my need blending with the smell of damp earth and life, the sight of his beautiful face as he angled back just enough to stare into my eyes.

  He reached down, slipping his hand into my shorts and fingering my clit. “Someday this will be mine. Every inch of you will belong to me.”

  That was a promise I needed him to keep. “Yes,” I whispered, grateful for his masterful strokes. “All yours.” My spine arched and I rocked my hips forward. Oh God, that felt so good.

  “Lay down, baby.” One arm wrapped around my upper body, supporting it as he twisted to the side. Then he forced me down on the couch, onto my back. Once I was reclined, shorts hanging from one ankle, legs splayed wantonly, he shoved two fingers inside me, filling my channel. Keeping them buried deep inside, he slid to the ground and knelt between my legs. “You smell so good. I have to eat away every drop of your cream.” Thrusting his fingers in and out roughly, he flicked his tongue back and forth over my tingling nub. With every plunge of those fingers, my body burned hotter. My stomach tensed. My legs. My chest.

  Someday those fingers would be his cock. His bare cock. Plunging deep. Thrusting in and out, in and out, marking me. Making me his. And someday his hands would own every inch of my body. I would be his. All his.

  Oh God, I was going to come.

  “Come for me, baby. Come now.”

  My body responded to his command. A flare of heat blazed through me. My climax was so powerful I quaked from head to toe. My pussy clamped tight around his fingers as full-body tremors rippled out from my center.

  And as those tremors eased to pleasant twitches and tingles, he pulled me into his arms and held me. There was no climax for him, no release whatsoever. But he seemed okay with that. “Promise me you’ll wait for me,” he said, his voice a husky blend of desperation and desire.

  “I promise.”

  He pressed his lips against the top of my head. “No, promise me.”

  I shifted so I could look him in the eye. “I do. I promise I’ll wait.”

  “Will you live in the Plymouth house until we can figure things out?” he asked as he kissed my forehead. “I think that’s the only way either of us will survive.”

  I didn’t think twice. “Yes. Of course.”

  His beautiful face lit up and I couldn’t help smiling. Really, was it that easy to make him happy? “You will?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Thank you.” He held me so tightly and protectively a tear slipped from my eye.

  Maybe things weren’t where I wished they would be, yet. I hadn’t heard the words I ached to hear. But I knew Kent did care about me. Profoundly. He did need me. He did cherish me. He just needed some time.

  I wasn’t the most patient person on the planet, but for Kent Payne I could wait. He’d already proven he wasn’t the bastard I thought he was. And he didn’t just want to keep me around for convenient sex. His feelings went much deeper than that.

  Loving a man, I’d been told, was a sure road to ruin. If that was true, I had already traveled too far down that road to turn back. But maybe Mom had been wrong. By allowing herself to take the risk, she’d found love and happiness.

  Maybe, just maybe, if I could be patient, I would too.

  The End

  The Favor of a Review

  Reviews, ratings and comments are much appreciated. If you’ve enjoyed my story, I encourage you to share your opinion about my story with friends on Twitter, Goodreads, and Facebook.

  I read all the reviews of my books and love to hear what readers have to say. If you have a moment, I would be grateful for your time. My sincerest thank you.

  *****

  Please turn the page to find out what happens next, in the final book in the STEPBROTHER ROMANCE TRILOGY, ADDICTED .

  Don’t miss the gripping conclusion to Kent and Shayne’s story in Stepbrother R
omance 3 - Addicted!

  STEPBROTHER ROMANCE 3- ADDICTED A New Adult Alpha Billionaire Romance

  And now the sizzling conclusion of STEPBROTHER ROMANCE

  I love him. I can’t live without him. But he doesn’t love me.

  Kent Payne is one of those guys. You know the kind. Easy to hate. Hard to love. The kind that crawls under your skin and turns you into a babbling idiot who thinks of nothing but which parts of your body you want his hands on next. Yep, that’s my stepbrother, Kent. And lucky me, I’ve fallen in love with the womanizing pain in the a@@.

  He could crush my heart into a million broken pieces, but you know what? I don’t care. We can’t keep our hands off each other. We’ve tried. So we have a few minor (major) things to work out. It’ll happen. It’s do or die for both of us.

  Because we’re both about to face something major…

  SAMPLE

  “I’m afraid to love you, Shayne,” Kent shouted, tossing his hands into the air. Quieter, calmer, he added, “That’s the bottom line.”

  At last we were getting somewhere. I was chipping away at his defenses, and finally seeing the real Kent, the one that was vulnerable and real. “Why?” I demanded.

  “Because.” He crossed his arms over his chest, averted his eyes.

  Crap, there it was again. That stupid wall. Right there. Standing between us. It was big. And ugly. And I hated it more than I hated anything. Because it kept us apart.

  But this time I wasn’t going to let it. “You need to give me more than that, Kent. I deserve more than that.”

  He looked at me and nodded, shoved his fingers through his hair, roughly raking the waves. “Yes, yes you do. But I can’t talk about it. And if that doesn’t tell you what you need to know, then I don’t know what will.” He grabbed the doorknob and yanked.

  This time I jumped in front of the door before it swung open.

  How many times had he walked away from me when things got rough? How many times had I allowed him to run, instead of forcing him to stay, face the problem, and talk things out?

 

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