by Harlow Grace
Letting out a long breath, I closed my eyes. My father would be devastated. I’d do anything to spare him more pain.
“I didn’t mean to cut so deep. I . . . um.” My throat thickened so I could hardly speak.
“How long have you been self harming? By the cuts on your arms and legs, it's been going on for a while. Why would you, of all people, do such a stupid fucking thing?” His voice was hard and cold. “I thought you were smart, Maya.” The accusation in his voice cut deep. Nearly as deep as the blade. “I don’t like what you’re doing to your perfect little body.”
Perfect little body?
Of course he’d seen my damn legs when he found me. I was in my underwear—the sexy shit I'd bought online.
I shrugged. “It's complicated,” I said softly, keeping my eyes shut. An asshole like him couldn’t ever understand. I wasn’t going to waste my breath trying to explain. The main thing was that Daddy never found out. But knowing Oliver as I did, I also knew his silence was going to cost me dearly.
What would he blackmail me into doing this time? Over the years he’d made me do all kinds of stupid things when he found out something about me that I didn’t want my father to know. Like the time he made me polish his shoes and make his breakfast every morning of winter break when I was thirteen. And I’d never forget the night in the bathroom because he caught Calvin Jones kissing me, his tongue down my throat at Larissa’s party. It was the first time Oliver really went too far.
It wasn’t so much that he made me do dirty things for his pleasure that messed me up—deep down I was ready for that and I wanted it as much as he did. No, that wasn't what made me buy my first set of blades.
It was the fact that he left immediately after and didn’t come back for two years. Two long fucking years. That’s what fucked with my mind.
He’d left—just like Mom—abandoning me and leaving me behind with fucked up emotions that I didn’t have a clue how to deal with. Without any explanation. How did he think I would take that after everything he’d said and done?
He thought it wouldn’t affect me? Idiot.
Yeah, I hate him—despise him. Yet I ached for him.
In my body.
In my heart.
In my fucking soul.
Ached so fucking much it was more painful than any cutting I’d done.
I sighed, a long, slow breath expelling from my lungs. “What do you want?”
“This time I want something different from you in exchange for my silence. Plus I saved your life, you know. You owe me something extra special for that.”
“What?” Oh God.
He drew in a long breath but didn’t speak. My eyes fluttered open and I watched his handsome face as different emotions flickered in his dark eyes. Eventually his gaze locked onto mine. I sucked in a shuddering breath at what I saw there. Lust. Raw, carnal lust. I'd seen it in his eyes before, but never as intense as this. Oliver’s usual brown orbs were nearly black, his pupils fully dilated. It scared the shit out of me. The blood drained from my face and a cold shiver shook my body.
This isn’t good.
I waited, holding my breath for what felt like an eternity. His hand closed over mine.
“I want you. Your body.”
My mouth dropped open. “Oliver.”
His voice was hoarse and low. “I want sex. Whenever. However. No arguments.”
Sex?
Sweet Lord, my head was spinning. My core clenched the way it had so many times before when I’d lain in my bed and touched myself while thinking of my stepbrother. The chiseled body he wasn’t shy to parade around the house wearing only boxers that sat low on his hips, the deep V that cut into the sides of his groin, the dark hair leading south. Shame and desire washed over me, my heart beating like a drum.
Dirty.
Illicit.
Forbidden.
I was wrong after all. I had died and gone to hell. And my stepbrother was the devil himself, showing me the way to burn for eternity.
BEFORE
{ Before Maya’s Eighteenth Birthday }
Chapter Twelve — Oliver
BEFORE: Three Days Ago
The special ringtone I’d selected for my mother’s calls sounded out. I brought the phone to my ear. “Morning, Mother. Trouble in paradise?” I asked sarcastically, pinching the bridge of my nose.
She sighed, long and deep. “Oliver, quit it. You have no damn respect for me. I’m your mother, remember?”
I wasn’t getting into that conversation with her. “What do you want, Mom?” I asked, softening my tone. I loosened the tie around my neck and undid the top button. Lately she’d started borrowing money from me for what she called “maintenance.” I’d been oblivious to how expensive cosmetic procedures were until I started paying for them with my own inheritance. She promised to pay me back, but I knew full well she never would. That would mean she had to explain to her husband why she still needed liposuction and botox and face lifts.
Turning onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling fan as it slowly rotated around its axis. I spread my arms and legs wide on the bed, taking up all of the empty space around me. Living alone in a condo in Los Angeles wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
“Maya’s eighteenth birthday party is on Saturday. Alec has asked me to throw a party for her. I know its short notice and only three days away, but you’ve just finished your degree and I know you’re on a break. Alec wants you there too. Will you please come and at least try to behave properly towards him?”
I sat up in bed. This was just what I needed. An excuse to go to the house. Not that I really needed a reason to visit my mother, but we’d drifted further apart over the last two years and it just felt awkward. Larissa came to LA every three months and we’d catch up then. She had things to do here—like her secret surgeries or botox touch-ups—so she’d tell Alec she was coming to check on me since I’d refused to go to Santa Barbara.
My dark obsession with Maya had finally caught up with me. I'd tried everything to stay away. Fucked countless women in the hopes of finding someone who would quench my thirst for her. Replace her in my mind. They never did—not even close. I’d stopped bringing them home. They were just an endless succession of faceless tramps, each one as forgettable as the last.
“Yes, I’ll come up today. I have a few weeks off between graduating and starting my new job. I need some rest anyway.” It was true; I’d written my final exam only last week and I was still catching up on sleep.
“I'm so proud of you, Oliver. You deserve a break after studying so hard. And you haven’t been here for nearly two years. I miss you.” She took a deep breath and then sighed. “Seems like I only get to see you when I come to LA. Don’t make me throw a damn party just to get you to come home,” she chided. “It's less than a two hour drive, you know.”
Guilt rolled through my gut. Yeah, I'd been avoiding that place for more reasons than one. “Anything you need me to bring from LA?”
My mother laughed. “No, just bring yourself . . . and your girlfriend if you have one?”
“Nah, lately I sleep alone. Women wear me out and cost a fortune to feed and entertain.”
“Oh. What happened to Bianca? I thought the two of you made such a beautiful couple. She’d make beautiful babies, Oliver.”
“Jesus, Mom. Bianca’s not a breeding mare. I still see her sometimes—she's in Denmark now for a family problem. She’ll be back in a few days.”
The truth was that I hadn’t thought of Bianca since she’d left. Strange how I didn’t miss her for a second. Sex was sex in my book. Didn’t matter much who the pussy belonged to as long as she made it worthwhile.
There was only one pussy that really taunted me—even in my fucking sleep. I’d wake up with my cock in my hand, jerking hard to dreams of sliding in and out of Maya. I’d come all over the sheets, whispering her name even as I woke to reality.
Two years of staying as far away as possible hadn’t changed a fucking thing. If anything, it mad
e it worse. Much worse. She was all I thought about most of the time.
My fascination with my stepsister had grown to fever pitch. Maya drew me to her in ways I didn’t like. Yet no amount of fucking, jerking off, drinking, or even time apart could obliterate her from my brain.
I’d lie in bed at night and trace the outlines of her face in my mind. Every outline, every curve, burned into my memory. Her face. Her body. Her lips. And those fucking eyes. Those eyes that could pierce my soul.
The gravitational pull was too strong. I couldn’t stand this situation any longer. I had to go there. Do something about it before it ate me alive. If she was turning eighteen, she was legal.
About fucking time.
“Does Maya have a boyfriend?”
I didn’t want to know how many boys had fucked her. Dipped their cocks into the sweet honey pot. The irony was it was okay for them to do so; society would turn a blind eye. Yeah, we lived in a fucked-up world sometimes. Because if I came anywhere near her—not only was it deemed “immoral” just because my mother was married to her father, even though we weren’t related by blood, but on top of that I was a man four years older than her. In the eyes of society, I was screwed. I couldn’t have the one thing I wanted most.
It was time to change that. Time to find out what my chances really were.
“I'm not sure. She was seeing someone recently but I think they broke up. She doesn’t talk to me about her love life.”
Suddenly my mood brightened. I was looking forward to taking a shower and driving to Santa Barbara. But not before I went shopping for a special birthday gift for my stepsister.
I made a quick call to Joyce to place an order for what I wanted and then went to get cleaned up and pack for my trip.
Two hours later, I drove to a cake shop down the road from where I lived. I’d always had a sweet tooth and I craved sugar when I studied late into the night. Since Joyce had been working there all those years, she knew me pretty well. I’d called her ten minutes earlier to confirm that the cake was ready for pick up and was pleased when she said it was waiting.
“Oh, it's so sweet you’re getting a cake of Maya the Bee for your little sister,” she cooed as she took my money and rang up the register.
“Yeah, she’ll love it because her name is Maya,” I said, smiling.
“As per your request, I haven’t placed candles on the cake. We sell candles separately if you need some?” I chuckled. Salespeople were the same everywhere—always eager to make an extra sale.
“Sure,” I said, nodding once.
“We have boxes in packets of ten.” She turned away toward a shelf to find them. “What color?”
“Black. I need eighteen candles, so give me two boxes.”
She swung around, the look on her face priceless. “Your little sister is eighteen?” Her mouth hung open and her eyes widened as she stared at me.
“Yep. In three days.” I struggled to keep a straight face.
“I . . . I thought she was still a child,” she said, looking at the cake and then back at me as if I was crazy.
“We have this little joke between us. I call her little bee.”
Her face brightened up. “Oh. That’s sweet. You’re such a great big brother,” she said, smiling widely.
Yeah, I am. I’m such a fucking great brother that I obsess about my little sister all the time, wondering what it will be like to fuck her and make her scream.
*****
A few hours later I pulled up at the house. The roses in the front garden had grown to maturity, their fragrance filling the air as I walked up the path to the front door. Since I had my own key, I let myself in, carefully carrying the cake into the dining room.
I smiled as I remembered the look on Joyce’s face when I paid for the cake. But it would be nothing compared to the look on Maya’s face. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Hopefully she’d get it and not lose her shit that I got her a birthday cake meant for a child. Maya used to have a much better sense of humor when she was a young girl. The older she got, the less I saw that side of her.
Sometimes I kinda wished I wasn’t such a douche bag when I was younger and we could’ve started on a different foot. But how in the hell was I supposed to know that she’d grow up into such a stunner, or that my dick would have a mind all of its own where she was concerned. Sixteen year old boys—the age I was when Maya first came into my life were clueless. Maya at sixteen was far more mature than I was at the same age. I couldn’t wait to see her now she was nearly eighteen.
Snapping back to the moment, I placed the cake on the table before I went in search of the occupants of the house to announce my arrival.
Mom had warned me that she was going out to get her hair done. Thank fuck she hadn’t asked me to pay for her hair maintenance too, because it seemed like she was at the hairdresser just about every other day.
She’d also said that everyone else was busy getting organized for the party later in the evening. Apparently Maya had gone shopping with her best friend to buy a new dress and would be back much later, and Alec had to work as usual. Not that I was surprised, because the way my mother blew through money, the man needed a serious income to support her in the way she liked.
“Hey, anybody home?” I called out. Met with silence, I grabbed my bag and took it upstairs to my bedroom. I had plans to stay for a while. Unpacking my things, I quietly hummed to myself as I hung my shirts in the cupboard.
That’s when I heard the loud panting coming from across the hallway.
“Yeah, babe, like that,” I heard a man’s voice grind out.
What the fuck? Was that Mom and Alec doing it? Despite the fact that I never actually asked, she assured me that their sex life was great and rather adventurous. Even so, surely they wouldn’t be having sex out in the open? I mean, Mom knew I was on my way there.
I apprehensively padded my way to the bedroom door and listened, hoping to pick up the direction the noise was coming from. Yep, definitely from the staircase. I’d close the door and pretend I was having a nap—no way did I want to witness that shit.
Just as I was about to close the door, a dark head appeared in my line of vision. It bobbed up and down, the moaning growing louder and louder. Fuck me. I plucked the door open and stared into wide green eyes. Maya had just pulled her mouth off some guy’s dick and was fisting his cock up and down furiously. She was so busy staring at me that she nearly got an eyeful of cum as the prick who sat on the stairs, his pants around his ankles, spurted his orgasm into the air.
I didn’t know if I should be impressed by the perfect projectile of his cum as it landed on Maya’s chest, or be pissed off that she was blowing a guy in full view of practically the entire house. She had some mad skills in that department, because the expression on the dude’s face was one of pure fucking ecstasy.
Her head dropped as she looked down to the mess on her chest, her shirt open, one breast out of the cup of her bra, the rosy nipple erect and hard. Christ, I even remembered the color of those nipples in my dreams.
Her mouth dropped open, then closed, as if she didn’t know if she should say something or not. Clearly she wasn’t expecting to see me. The guy turned his head and saw me standing there, arms folded across my chest, steam coming out my ears.
“Dude. What the fuck, man? Show some fucking respect,” I roared.
I stormed forward and grabbed him by the shirt collar. “What was next, your dick inside her?” I bellowed, my entire body shaking. Grinding down on my teeth and with the veins in my head throbbing, I pulled the fucker to his feet and punched him in the stomach.
“Oliver, no! Gerard’s my boyfriend,” she screamed, alarm all over her face.
“Ex fucking boyfriend,” I shouted, my blood pressure reaching dangerous levels. I’d seen this jock hanging around over the years. The prick was supposed to be her best friend at some point, along with Quinn.
“Get your pants up and get out of this fucking house. And if I ever see your ugly face
anywhere near Maya, you’re dead meat. According to Californian law, Maya’s not legal yet, asshole, so don’t make me call the cops.”
The guy had the good sense to pull his pants up and zip his dick closed.
“She turns eighteen on Saturday. What’s three days?”
Clenching my jaw so tightly that pain shot through my brain, I balled my fists as I glared at him.
“I said out,” I yelled. Rage roiled in my gut. With every second ticking by it became more difficult to control myself. I wanted to snap the prick in half.
The cocky fucker wasn't giving up. “You aren’t even her real brother, so quit acting like you care about her.”
“NOW!”
He jumped to his feet and made his way down, nearly tripping over his own feet. At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped and turned toward Maya. He opened his mouth to speak. Jesus, did he have a fucking death wish?
I growled, my eyes bulging in my head, my blood boiling under the surface of my skin.
With his tail between his legs, he left. Prick didn’t even fight for her. There was no way in hell he was good enough for Maya. She deserved so much better.
Maya poked a finger into my chest. “I fucking hate you,” she yelled. “I wish you’d stay the fuck out of my life, asshole.”
“You’ve said so a few times before,” I sneered.
She stormed off to her bedroom and slammed the door shut. The key ground metal to metal as she locked the door. A car engine started up and wheels spun as it drove away.
Bewildered, I stood there. I’d just saved her from a douche bag who would never make her happy and she was mad at me? The difference was this: if Maya were my girl, I’d fight for her. To the bitter fucking end. He wasn’t. Was I really so wrong in thinking he wasn’t the right man for her?
Chapter Thirteen — Maya
BEFORE: One Day Ago
“Is Gerard coming?” Quinn asked as we surveyed the caterers moving about as they set up for my eighteenth birthday party the following day. Larissa had outdone herself organizing it, which surprised the hell out of me. I didn’t think my stepmother gave two shits about me, but if this party was anything to go by, it would seem she did.