S.O.B.
Page 1
SOB
A Stepbrother Romance
USA Today Bestselling Author
J.C. VALENTINE
Books by
J.C. VALENTINE
Night Calls
Stranded
That First Kiss
Surrender to Love
Trust
Wayward Fighters
Knockout
Tapout
unDefeated
Blue Collar
Sweetest Temptations
Forbidden Trilogy
Dance for Me
Lie to You
Fall for Him
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Levi Black is an s.o.b.
Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he’s a pretentious, obnoxious, womanizing jacka** who thinks the world revolves around him.
He wouldn’t be wrong.
A famous soccer player, his skills on and off the field have won him medals, trophies, women, and the cover of every heartthrob magazine in the country. He’s broken nearly every bone in his body and a few hearts along the way, including mine—his stepsister—and lived to tell about it.
One night changed everything, and I’ve avoided him like the plague ever since. Just long enough to finish college, to bury the hurt, and to outrun the memories. But now that’s all changed. I’m back, and there’s no more running.
My hands are supposed to be my livelihood, but now they’re my curse. Levi’s reckless ways have landed him in a sticky situation, and his father has given me an offer I can’t refuse. One month and all I have to do is put my hands on his body. Easier said than done. The problem is, even though I know it’s bound to bite me in the a**, I can’t bring myself to say no to the s.o.b.
DISCLAIMER
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex and language. If you are under the age of 18 or this type of content is disturbing to you, please do not continue reading.
NOTE: All characters in this book are 18+ years of age, non-blood related, and all sexual acts are consensual.
1
Murphy’s Law: anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
That thought runs through my head as the wide-eyed panicked girl stares back at me through the polished steel doors. I hardly recognize myself, so pale, so fragile. But that’s what happens when the elevator you’re riding on screeches to a stop somewhere in between the eighty-ninth floor and certain death.
Because that’s what I’ll be—dead—if this metal box decides to crap out completely and plummet back to earth.
After a long flight and sharing a ride with a man—who mumbled to himself and spent the duration of the trip from the airport to a shady looking hotel—that had me reaching in my purse for my stun gun, all I want is a hot shower and my pajamas. Instead, I’m seconds away from having a total meltdown and the couple across from me keeps slanting worried looks my way to the point where I feel like screaming.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t think you’re going to vomit, do you?”
Of course, I want to throw up! I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to do anything more. The woman looks like a demon underneath the glow of the red emergency lighting, adding another level of horror to my night, and even though I know she’s just trying to be nice, I consider telling her if I do, I’ll be sure to do it on her Manolos. But I hold my tongue. Instead, I smile faintly and glance up at the blank numbered panel, praying like hell for the lights to come back on.
“Is everyone still doing alright in there?”
The ethereal voice emanates from the speaker in the wall and the minute I hear it, a wave of renewed hope surges in my chest. “Jake! Where the hell have you been? You have to get me out of here. I’m freaking the fuck out!”
The couple standing across from me frowns at my language, but we’ve been stuck in here for over an hour and I’m all out of give-a-fucks. Jake—checking in the last hour to make sure we’re still breathing and that we haven’t resorted to cannibalizing each other while we wait for the power to come back on—is all that’s keeping me from climbing the walls.
It’s a citywide blackout, perfectly timed for my arrival. Still, one would think the sheer lavishness of this place would ward against such things. Next time, I’m taking the stairs.
“Hang in there, Miss Marquis. I’m sure the li—”
There’s a buzzing noise, and then the elevator floods with light as the power kicks back on and we jerk into motion.
“Yes!” I jump up, throwing a fist into the air in celebration. I’ve never felt so alive, especially now that I know I actually will be. “Jake, I could kiss you!” I shout up at the speaker.
His rough chuckle fills the small space and I laugh with him as we resume our ascent. He sticks with me long enough for the couple to disembark on their floor and for me to reach mine—all the way at the top. The penthouse.
“Thank you for keeping me sane, Jake,” I tell him as I gather my luggage.
“It was my pleasure, Miss Marquis.”
“Please, I feel like we’re old friends now. Call me Vista.”
“Enjoy your evening, Vista.”
I step out onto gleaming black marble and breathe in the soft scent of gardenias as I approach the only door on the floor. It’s tall, heavy, and paneled, surrounded by massive vases stuffed with fragrant flowers. Pretentious, just like its owner. One would think that having a rich man for a stepfather would have jaded me to this kind of wealth, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I pull the key that was waiting for me at the desk from my pocket. It’s gold and completely ordinary, but I know whatever is waiting for me behind that door is going to be anything but.
Letting myself in, I see that everything is dark and breathe a sigh of relief. Levi isn’t home. I hadn’t realized how wound up I was until just now. Knowing I’m alone? The tension bleeds right out of me.
Fishing around for a light switch, I rub my hand over the wall to my immediate right, nearly knocking something big and heavy over in the process. Once I can see again, I roll my eyes.
The thing that I almost knocked over? It’s a giant bust of a naked woman. She’s missing her head and arms, but the enormous set of boobs is right where it’s supposed to be. It always amazes me what some people consider art.
Taking a look around, I’m not at all surprised by what I find. The place is cavernous, modern to a fault. What little furniture there is, is sleek and expensive, but neutral so that it takes a backseat to the decorations. Which are numerable and racy as all get out.
Wheeling my luggage across the stark white marble floors behind me, I’m drawn to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that take up the entire eastern wall affording what I know will be a breathtaking view of the city leading out to Lake Michigan. As I approach, however, I am distracted by a burst of color and veer off to the right, finding myself standing before a wall-sized mural of geometric shapes forming a...yep, that’s an orgy.
I can’t believe I agreed to this. Money isn’t everything. But it is when you don’t have any, a voice in my head whispers. Unlike Levi, I’ve had to work for everything I have. Nothing came easy, and also unlike him, I know what it’s like to pinch a penny. When my mother married his father, a wealthy divorcee who made his fortune on Wall Street, I was already on my way out the door. So Levi and I? We come from two totally different worlds.
One month. The offer my stepfather made me is going to help me pave a path through the rest of my life. Not many people fresh out of college have the opportunity to start up their own business, and without his seed money and connections, I’d have to spend years working my way up the business ladder and forging the relationships he’s willing to hand over on a silver platter. And I have Levi’s broken bones to thank for it all.
One month of putti
ng my hands on Levi’s tight body. One month of rubbing every inch of the smooth, sun-kissed skin I’ve only seen in magazines for the last four years. One month of his insufferable attitude and I’ll be set.
It’s going to be pure torture, but only a moron would pass this up.
And I’m no moron.
An hour later, I’m rethinking everything when Levi bursts through the door on a set of crutches. A man with a thick beard similar to his follows in behind him, a brunette under one arm and a blonde tucked under the other, and kicks the door closed behind them with his Van covered heel. They’re loud and obnoxious and totally wasted.
What the hell is Levi thinking, partying after undergoing major surgery to repair the break in his femur caused, once again, by his recklessness? Granted, that was three months ago, but with the kind of medications the doctors must have him on, he has no business going out drinking.
I’m momentarily shocked into stillness by their intrusion. I’m sitting here, in a spaghetti strap tank top and yoga pants, a Nutrigrain bar hovering in front of my lips, when my gaze collides with his and it all comes flooding back.
I haven’t seen Levi since the wedding. Standing up for his father and I for my mother, he’d refused to even look at me as they recited their vows, which killed me, adding to the pain his words delivered just hours earlier. I wanted him to acknowledge me, needed to see in his eyes that I meant something more to him, that I wasn’t another throwaway in his life, but he never did. And when it was all said and done, he’d taken off with one of the bridesmaids rather than continue occupying the same space.
My last memory of him is much like the picture before me now—Levi, too damn sexy for his own good, drunk off his ass, with a sure thing waiting in the wings.
We were only kids then. We’ve both had time to grow up. And Levi? He’s definitely changed.
My gaze skates down his lithe form, taking in his towering height, wide shoulders, and broad chest. As a teenager, Levi was hot. Now, he’s sexy as sin. The magazines didn’t do him justice. The man who stands before me now oozes sex appeal from every pore. Between the casual style of loose cotton pants and a band t-shirt revealing fully tattooed arms, the heavy old beard growth that covers half his face, and dark, wavy hair that looks wild and unkempt, he’s got this rugged, casual, bad boy persona down pat. The giant cast running up three-quarters of his left leg just adds further credibility to the look.
And I’m totally checking him out.
When I realize what I’m doing, my eyes fly back up and with a flush of heat I see that he’s scoping me out, too.
When our gazes clash again, a cocky smile lifts one side of Levi’s mouth, and I know, without that beard in the way, there would be a slight dimple in his cheek. It’s his signature smile. The one I see in all the tabloids. He flashes it and women melt. Including me.
His stepsister.
One of the girls giggles as she approaches him and presses her hand to the center of his chest as she attempts to curl up against him. The sound is jarring, the sight almost comical as he is forced to adjust the crutches and steady his balance, and I blink, remembering where I am, who I am, and most importantly, why I’m here.
“Levi,” the girl says in a voice that is pure seduction, “who’s that?” Her fall of blonde hair sways over her slender shoulder as she jerks her head in my direction, refusing to look at me.
Staring straight into my eyes, Levi tells her, “That is my dear sister.”
2
“Levi.” My greeting is short and clipped, just as I intend for my presence in this room to be. Clearly, he forgot I was coming and planned a private gathering, of which I have no intention of being a part of.
“Vista,” he drawls, stretching my name out in a way that makes it sound almost obscene. At the sound of that deep, naturally seductive voice, my mind conjures all kinds of inappropriate scenarios involving the two of us, alone, with no clothes on.
His light gaze flickers over me again, sending a tiny shiver racing through me. It’s probably just a casual observance on his part, but my brain twists it, perceiving it as a physical caress that warms me all the way down to my toes.
Clearly, I am a sick individual in need of professional help.
Shrugging the woman off, Levi sets into motion across the open floor to the kitchen, his crutches taking the lead and the brunt of what appears to be considerable weight. I watch as he pulls glasses down from a cabinet, the muscles in his back and arm flexing, and lines them up along the counter. “Wine?”
He’s asking everyone, but when his clear blue gaze flicks up, his eyes are fixed on me. As he begins to pour, I shake my head.
“No, I’m fine,” I tell him, my voice weak even to my own ears. I’d always assumed that wine was too refined for arrogant assholes. What am I still doing here? This interaction has already gone on too long. It’s messing with my head.
I watch him pour, resisting the urge to comment on his choice of alcohol.
Knowing I need to extract myself from the situation, I stand up and brush bits of granola crumbs from my clothing onto the pristine floor. “I’m tired, so I’m just going to turn in for the night.”
“Turn in for the night?” Levi barks a laugh. “What are you, fifty?”
His guests laugh at his attempt at a joke and I grit my teeth to withhold a snappy retort. This Levi is easy to hate. He reminds me why I left in the first place.
“Sorry to be a downer,” I sneer, “but some of us have jobs in the morning.”
“Jobs?”
“Yeah, that thing people like me refer to as work. I’m sure the word is foreign to you, so I don’t expect you to understand the concept.”
Lifting his glass, Levi wraps his full lips around the rim and takes a drink as he studies me through narrowed eyes. The look is cutting, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable in this cavernous room of stark modernity. I am aware of the curious, watchful eyes of his friends as they attempt to figure out just what the hell is going on between us. Good luck with that, I want to tell them, because my lips are sealed. They don’t need to hear all the sordid details of our fucked up history.
Somehow, even with his crutches, Levi heads toward me with a fluid grace that leaves my mouth dry.
He is everything I’ve told myself I should loathe, but there’s something about him that stokes a fire within me. Always has, ever since the day we first met, and a part of me fears always will. My stomach flips and if I ever doubted it, I don’t now. Nothing has changed. Levi is still hot as holy hell and more than capable of reducing me to a love-struck teenager whose brain trips over itself at the mere sight of him.
Everything about Levi is the same as I remember, only bigger. The only indulgence I’ve allowed myself over these last four years was following him in the media, but seeing him in magazine spreads and on television hasn’t prepared me for what stands here now.
He’s somehow even more devastating in person.
Levi stops directly in front of me, so close the heat of our bodies merge. He smells of clean linens and soap, and when he speaks, sweet wine.
“When did you get in?” His tone is soft, easy. Conversational. Not at all what I expected considering the harsh look in his eyes.
“Uh...a couple hours ago, I guess.” It’s difficult to think with him standing so close.
“You showered,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave as he looks me over once more, his eyes pausing on my chest, making me acutely aware that I’m not wearing a bra. My nipples tighten under his lingering gaze, and it doesn’t escape his attention. His lips curl up on one side.
Oh God. Five minutes in his presence and I’m already hopeless. “I hope you don’t mind. It was a long flight,” I rush to say, flushing as I think about being in his personal space, using things he set out for me—mint shampoo and conditioner, lavender body wash, luscious towels. Stupid girl. A man like him probably has an assistant who does this for all the girls he brings home. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Help yourself to whatever you want,” he grunts. “Did you find your room okay?”
“Yes, thank you,” I reply breathily. The bedroom is stunning, done up in warm blues and grays, the complete opposite of the rest of the rooms here, and I almost feel guilty for staying in it. I never expected my accommodations to be so nice. The walk-in closet was orgasm-inducing, big enough to house the apartment I shared with my roommate back in Ohio. Another thing I never expected was for my bedroom to be one of only two, making us neighbors. My face heats just thinking about how close we’ll be at night.
Another thought occurs to me. He’d better not think he’s going to have women spending the night while I’m here. This month is going to be challenging enough without having to listen to his sexual escapades echoing through the walls.
“And do you like it?” His words are smooth, rich, sending another tingle of awareness rebounding through my body like the snap of a rubber band as he recalls my attention. Gradually, Levi begins twisting the lock of hair around his finger, and the slight movement sends delicious tickling sensations dancing along my scalp.
Lifting my chin, I look directly into his eyes. They’re a pale blue, like the morning sky, and remind me of tropical islands and sandy beaches. I’ve never seen a pair quite like them, and I’m astonished to find that they still hold the power to turn me into mush. For a moment, I just hold my breath, drinking him in, before finally managing to break through the fog.
“I love it.”
Those eyes of his...they switch back and forth between mine, like he’s searching for something. I can’t tear my eyes away from his. For one long moment suspended in time, we’re the only people in the room. No time has passed. We’re just Levi and Vista again.