“You have a nice place,” he says as he kicks off his shoes and puts his feet up on the coffee table. I grimace at the act. “Do you own or rent it?”
I come into the living room and sit on the chair opposite the sofa. “I own, it was part of my trust fund.”
He nods but we don’t talk about my father or how he died. It is a dark secret in our family...at least a dirty secret since we don’t like to talk about how his mistress killed him before killing herself and her unborn baby. We seem to have a lot of dark secrets in my family and one of my own was sitting comfortably on my sofa.
“So why are you in town?” I ask as my eyes meander up his bare arms.
One of those arms is covered in a full sleeve of tattoos and I am awed by the artistry that went into the design. Each tattoo was a work of art and fit perfectly into another like an intricate jigsaw puzzle. The angel as like a painting she would expect to see in an art gallery. His other arm was fairly free of ink and all that was on the skin was three rings on his forearm.
My eyes travel up his arms to his chest, which is firm and solid beneath the thin, black t-shirt he has on. A barbed wire tattoo peaks out of the collar of his shirt and I wonder what other tattoos he has on him. He looks older than the last time I saw him, and not by a few years. If I didn’t know him, I would think he was in his late twenties, early thirties.
“I needed to get away,” he says being vague.
“From what? The warm air and sun too much for you?”
I laugh when he sticks his tongue out at me. The air between us eases. This is more like how we used to be. We would laugh, tease, joke—like siblings. “Yeah, it was horrible. I thought I would come back just in time for sleet and snow.”
His eyes turn serious, “Honestly,” his voice is low and I lean forward instinctually to hear him, “I ran into some trouble in California so I had to come home to lay low.”
Trepidation dances across my skin and I hold my breath as he continues.
“Nothing major...I mean, I didn’t kill anyone or anything but there were some people I pissed off. I figure it would be good to let them cool down and I could come and visit everyone.”
I process what he is saying and finally ask, “Are you in trouble with the police?”
He laughs, “No, not the police. I just didn’t finish a job I was supposed to do so people were a little mad at me. I’ve been really successful in garbage and rubbish removal. I was given a huge contract and when the job fell through, I refused to give the deposit back. Leaves for hard feelings every time.”
I nod, his tone sounds truthful enough but I get the feeling that he is keeping something from me. I lean back and tuck my long legs under me.
“Have you seen Frank yet?”
He winces, “Yeah, I saw him yesterday. He wasn’t happy with me just turning up after all these years. I know I put him through a lot of shit and I can get where he is pissed, but I am surprised that he wouldn’t let me crash at his place for a few days.”
I’m not surprised that Frank wouldn’t let Damon stay with them. Even before Damon took off and cut everyone out of his life, they had had a stormy relationship. For the first few years after his parents separated, Damon lived with his mom. Frank hadn’t been around since he was busy building his career. By the time he came back into Damon’s life, he had already been arrested for a few petty crimes. That he made it through high school and college was amazing and a true testament of the dedication Frank had poured into Damon when he came to live with him. I still remember some of their fights.
Shivering, I push away those dark thoughts and ask, “So where are you going to be staying then?”
I know his answer before he even says it.
“I figured I would stay with you.”
Shaking my head, I blurt out, “No, you can’t!”
Damon laughs and sits up, his feet dropping from the floor off of the coffee table.
“Wow, I am speechless...heartbroken,” he teases, “I expect this harsh treatment from Dad but from you little sis...Et tu Mia...et tu.”
I glare at him. I am a grown woman now, living on my own, going to college but he makes me feel like I am sixteen again and he is the much older and wiser man who is simply humoring me.
“You know why I said no. Your dad would go ballistic if you were here because he told you no. It is just expected of me to tell you the same.”
And because I don’t trust myself with you, I silently think. The last time we were alone together, things took a dark turn and I gave in to my base instincts. It was wrong, I know that now but I am not sure if I won’t succumb to that again. He raises an eyebrow at me and I know I have been silent for too long. His eyes are pleading and I want to tell him yes.
Shaking my head, I stand up and return the coffee mugs to the kitchen. I feel him follow behind me.
“I said no. I don’t want to cause problems with our parents. I know it won’t make them happy and they were already upset about me buying this place and moving out to finish school.”
“Please bumblebee,” he says and I wince at the nickname. He used to call me that because I could never get comfortable around him. I was always buzzing around from spot to spot or activity to activity so I could avoid getting comfortable...getting comfortable could mean me giving in to those disgusting thoughts.
“No,” I wash the cups, ignoring him as best I can but he leans against the fridge and watches me.
“Look, why don’t I pay you? I can help you with the mortgage, a few hundred a week, and I’ll take the guest bedroom. It will help you and it will help me...a win-win. Plus, I won’t be here long...three weeks, tops.”
I can feel my resolve slipping away. He moves beside me as I face the sink and I can feel the heat coming off him. He was always like that...as if he burned hotter than anyone else I knew.
“I don’t know Damon,” I mumble but I know he has won.
Flinching, I step away when I feel his fingers capture a curl that has come loose from my ponytail. I turn and look into his eyes, and instantly regret it. His eyes are dark with longing and the soft smile on his lips makes me want to taste them again. I wonder if they will taste how they used to.
He murmurs, “You still have those soft, honey curls little bumblebee,” and his tone vibrates through my body.
I want to lean into him and feel his warmth but it’s wrong and I know it is. I clear my throat and the emotion vanishes from his eyes as he takes a step back, the moment is gone. I’m not sure if it was ever there or if I was just imagining the things I saw in his eyes.
Either way, I know I am a fool when I say, “Okay, if you pay rent...and it is only for a few weeks. If Frank asks, you are not staying here. I don’t need the lecture from him or Mom.”
Damon nods and shoots me his winning smile that makes all the girls go weak at the knees, including me. I know this may be the longest three weeks of my life.
Chapter Four
What have I done? A week ago, I opened my home up to my stepbrother and I am regretting it ever since.
I guess it isn’t all that bad. Every morning he goes and jogs with me, which is a nice change from jogging on my own. And he often has dinner ready when I get home from classes. Where he is during the day, when I am at school, I have no idea but it is nice to have someone here to talk to about my courses.
Unfortunately, my mom phones me every day and while I don’t have anything to hide, I feel awful for lying about Damon. Actually, I’m not lying because I am not saying anything. She hasn’t even mentioned that her and Frank saw him, even though they had been to lunch a few times without me...or at least, that’s what Damon said.
I feel torn. On one hand, I am relieved that she hasn’t asked me about him but on the other, why wouldn’t she invite me to lunch with them? He is, after all, my stepbrother. Maybe she suspects your attraction to him, that inner voice whispers and I box it up with all the other emotions I have building in me.
Outside of my parents, living with
Damon definitely has its highs and lows. There are the moments when he is infuriating. One minute, he is sweet, helping with dinner, doing the dishes, acting like a stepbrother is supposed to...and the next minute, his stormy eyes burn into me and he is saying things that he shouldn’t be saying.
Things like how beautiful I am. How I have really grown into myself. Comments about my hair, my body, how he knows some guys who would fight each other just for one of my smiles. Everything he says makes my body warm from his praise, but my mind recoils because it is my stepbrother who is saying it.
Then, when he’s done complimenting me, he teases me until I am ready to punch him.
I have no idea why our relationship is like this, but it’s just like when I was sixteen. He has always been a pain in my side whenever he would be home for the summer or for weekends. It was like he took enjoyment out of making my life miserable.
I glare at the back of his head but he doesn’t seem to notice me. I sigh; this is not the way it is supposed to be. I am supposed to be focusing on my assignments and not focusing on someone as irritating as Damon. Right now, he is sitting on my sofa with one of my books nestled in his large hands. He has been like this all afternoon as I studied for my next exam.
Despite having to maintain my grades, I can’t help wondering what he thinks of the book. My cheeks had blushed red when he picked up the erotica from my bookshelf, his eyebrows rising in shock when he read the back of it. Ever since, he has been engrossed in the book and hasn’t looked at me once. I smile; it was a really good book and while I am still a virgin, I know enough about sex from those books. Of course, knowing is so different from actually experiencing.
Shaking my head, I focus on the books in front of me, or at least try to. Every movement he makes as he turns the page has me looking towards him. I have no idea why I am on edge but I am. Finally, after an hour of struggling to work, I slam my textbook shut and storm into the kitchen.
Fixing a small salad, I hear him approaching me from behind but I don’t turn around, “Do you want a salad for lunch?” I ask.
“Sure, but you know, I was thinking about something else to eat.”
My cheeks flood with heat and I know he isn’t talking about food. I turn around and see desire shining in his eyes. “What about a sandwich?” I ask, playing dumb.
“Hmm,” he purrs and my toes curl as my own desire, the one I buried in that little box, breaks free and floods my body.
“I was thinking something with a little more bite to it.”
“You like to bite don’t you bumblebee?” His smile is full of naughty things and all I have to do is kiss his lips to experience them.
I bite my lip and his eyes shoot to my mouth as he licks his lips. He takes a step towards me and, suddenly, my kitchen seems too small for two of us. A space of only a few inches are between us and my body buzzes with electricity as I fight the urge to close the gap. I can feel the length of him just from the heat coming off his skin.
Closing my eyes, I inhale and breathe in the scent of him...nothing but cologne and man. “Interesting books you read,” he murmurs and he caresses my cheek with his fingertips.
Gasping, I open my eyes and drown in the twin pools of his eyes. God help me, but I want him. I have never wanted anyone like this, ever. His mouth hovers over mine and I arch my back, urging him on.
“I found them to be quite exciting,” he continues, completely unaware of what he is doing to me—or maybe he is completely aware.
I lick my lips, “I enjoy them,” I manage without panting.
“And do you enjoy what’s in them?”
My mind races as I try to recall what was in that book. Light bondage, mind altering sex, blowjobs...I have no idea if I enjoy what’s in them but reading the books always makes my mind react. “Yes, they are well written,” I finally say.
He chuckles and it tickles my body as though he had touched me.
“No, I meant, do you enjoy what’s in them? As in real life?”
I feel the blush in my cheeks and I touch the warm flesh. Opening my mouth, I close it not sure what to say. Do I tell him that I am virgin? Or do I just ignore the question?
Oh my God! He is my stepbrother and I shouldn’t even been answering these questions, let alone feeling these things. All of the desire that he had ignited on me is doused like a flame in water. I push against his chest, my hand feeling slimy from the touch, and place as much distance between us as the small kitchen allows.
“It is none of your business,” I say sharply before I modulate my voice to hide my panic, “Besides, it’s kind of creepy asking those things of your sister.”
Anger fills his eyes and for a second, I wonder if he will close the distance and kiss me.
“Step...step sister,” he growls, “And it’s not like we grew up in the same house. Hell, I was nineteen when they got married.”
I shake my head, “That doesn’t matter. Our parents are married!”
Taking a step back, I look at the counter where my salad is laying abandoned and know it is going to waste. Tears prick my eyes and I feel pathetic. I am crying over a salad I can’t eat because I have to get away from Damon. I am a horrible person, lusting after my stepbrother the way I am.
His eyes soften with concern and he closes the space between us, his arms wrapping around me in a hug. “Hey...hey, it’s okay,” he whispers as his hands slide up and down my back. “I was only kidding to get a rise out of you.”
Tears stream down my face and all I can feel is revulsion for myself. Of course he was just teasing, and I fell for it. I thought he wanted more than just to get a rise out of me. How sick can I be when I am seeing things that aren’t there?
Pushing away, I take a deep breath and say, “I need to be alone right now,” and then I am racing from the kitchen towards my room.
Slamming the door shut, I lean against it and cry my heart out that despite everything, despite knowing how wrong it is, I still want Damon...
Chapter Five
Lying in bed, I listen as Damon pauses outside my bedroom door. I have been avoiding him ever since the day in the kitchen and I think he is avoiding me as well.
Every morning, I hear him pause outside my bedroom before he goes for a run and I wait until he is gone to go on my own. By the time I get back and into the shower, Damon is having his breakfast and he is gone by the time I am ready to have mine.
At night, we do the same routine, two ships passing in the night as we go and hide in our rooms. Damon has been going out nightly for the last three nights, and hasn’t come home until the early hours.
I feel completely alone. I have been avoiding my mom’s calls because I know she will notice my turmoil. I have been a mess, barely sleeping, going through my day in a complete haze as I try to forget how dirty I feel right now. It was so easy when I didn’t have to be around him.
I remember him better now. Some part of me had forgotten how strong he was. How he had this arrogance about him that made girls lust after him and guys instantly like him. He is a pure alpha, one of those dominants that you read about in romance books before he ties up the helpless innocent and has his way with her.
Shuddering, I listen as the front door opens and closes behind him. He’s obviously off for his run—probably what keeps his body looking so sexy. I groan at my desire. Just focus on your dislike, Mia. He is an asshole who teased and tortured you for years. Remember when he pushed your face in the cake during your seventeenth birthday, I tell myself.
But remember when he beat the crap out of Derek when he told everyone you had slept with him, the other part of me says. I try to block it out. That was a bad memory. Damon had found me crying in my room, the computer open on a page that declared what a good fuck I was.
I had closed the laptop when he asked me what was wrong with me. I had told him nothing but he yelled at me for being stupid and forced the laptop from my arms.
His jaw was tight when he opened the screen and I saw a tick under his eye. With
a cold voice, he said, “Did you sleep with him? Were you a good fuck little sis?”
I had winced at the hate he turned towards me and I shook my head, “I never slept with him,” I cried, “Everything on that page is a lie.”
The hate turned to a cold anger and I was terrified by what he would do...to me...to Derek my first boyfriend. He stormed out of the room and I chased after him, hopping into his car a second before he sped away from the curb. When we got to Derek’s house, he found him standing in his driveway chatting up a girl from school.
He didn’t say anything, just crossed the yard and then sucker punched Derek. After that, all I remember is screaming as Damon beat the shit out of Derek. Even to this day, I swear Damon would have killed him if Derek’s dad hadn’t come out of the house. He didn’t say anything as he was torn off him, just continued to stare at Derek with a cold hate.
Charges weren’t pressed because of what Derek did to me and life went back to normal, but I never forgot the way he had looked when he was beating Derek.
Standing up, I throw on my jogging clothes and begin stretching to go on my run. It was kind of sad thinking about Derek—he had killed himself a year later...suicide they said, but no one could understand why he would have driven off the cliff when he had just been accepted into an Ivy League school.
Snatching up my running gear, I force thoughts of Derek out of my mind and head out the door for my run.
****
The run was exactly what I needed; I feel some semblance of peace after I pushed myself to run an extra two miles after my body was already telling me to stop. I had hit the wall and pushed right through it.
Slipping into my apartment, I pause at the threshold and listen. The apartment is quiet and I smile. Damon must have beat out of here pretty quickly after he had his shower.
Walking through the apartment, I pull off my sweatshirt and wipe the sweat from my body. I can’t help but admire myself in the mirror as I pass by it. While I have always been fit, having Damon here the last few weeks has helped me get in shape more than I normally am.
Bad Biker Stepbrother Page 2