Bad Boy - A Stepbrother Romance

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Bad Boy - A Stepbrother Romance Page 8

by Daire, Caitlin


  A slow grin spread across my face as I watched Rory, checking out every inch of her. She’d obviously just come home from somewhere. She was wearing a white top and a black pair of leggings that looked a lot like leather, and my eyes widened, taking in her pert rounded ass in those pants. Those things definitely needed to be illegal. I could already feel my cock stirring in my jeans.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Rory yelled at the top of her voice.

  Someone turned down the stereo and we all stared at her in the middle of the room. For such a tiny person, she sure knew how to own a room and make everyone listen to her.

  “You’re making so much noise!” she said, stamping her foot down. “Is this supposed to be some sort of party?”

  For a moment longer, a deathly silence ruled the room, but then a round of loud cheers erupted. The music came back on, and my friend Brett threw Rory over his shoulder as she shrieked in horror.

  What the hell was going on here?

  My eyes landed on Rory’s ass in those tight leather pants again, and the rest of the girls in the room gave each other confused looks as Brett placed Rory on Brian the bachelor’s lap. It was then that it dawned on me. My friends thought Rory was another stripper, doing some sort of bad cop routine by coming in here and yelling.

  Holy fuck.

  I could barely stifle my laughter as I made my way over to break the catastrophe up, just in time to see Brian struggling free. “I can’t, guys,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. “Celia would have my balls for breakfast if she found out!”

  His eyes landed on me and I could almost see the cogs in his head turning. “Hey, make her do a lap dance for Finn! He looks like he could use some cheering up today.”

  Everyone cheered as Rory and I exchanged looks of absolute, pure horror. I was quickly pushed down on a velvet loveseat, and Brett carried Rory over, placing her directly in front of me. She was fidgeting, nervous and scared.

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do this,” I murmured to her before calling out to everyone else. “Guys, she’s not a stripper! Jesus.”

  As much as I would have loved to watch her strip, I wasn’t that much of an asshole.

  “Thank you,” she said, her shoulders shaking a little as I got up and gave her a reassuring smile. Actually, her whole body was wobbling a bit, as if she were slightly inebriated and trying her best to hide it. If she was drunk, then that’d certainly explain her outburst when she stormed in here a few minutes ago. It had been so out of character for her.

  By now, most of my friends had gone back to partying and the music was back on, so there was no fear of anyone overhearing our conversation. I gave Rory a pat on the back, feeling like a patronizing jackass.

  “No problem. You should get back to your room anyway, it’s getting late,” I said. Initiating big brother mode, apparently.

  “Huh?” She looked up at me with a confused expression and crossed her arms. “Why? It’s not even eight-thirty yet. It’s not like I have a bedtime, Finn. I’m only one year younger than you.”

  “Well, act like it, then,” I said, wondering why she was being so belligerent tonight.

  She gave me an icy glare. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  “Don’t come busting in here screaming at all my friends like a banshee, then,” I said, returning her stare. “What’s wrong with you? I mean, first you come in whining about the noise, and now you want to stay? Are you drunk or something?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I had a couple of glasses of wine with some friends earlier, but I’m nowhere near as drunk as your friends seem to be. I can’t believe they actually thought I was a stripper!”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Well, look at those pants…aren’t they a little revealing?” I said, hoping my jealousy wasn’t too noticeable.

  I knew I had no right to be jealous, but fuck, I didn’t want other guys staring at her sexy ass. Considering how tight the pants were, there was no way any red-blooded guy wouldn’t be staring.

  “Are you saying I look like a stripper?” she asked in an acid tone.

  I shook my head. “Not exactly…I’m just saying, they’re very tight and revealing. I wouldn’t have let you out in those pants if I’d had any say in it.”

  Because if I had any say in it, you’d never be wearing any clothes at all, I silently added.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re seriously telling me how to dress now, like I’m some sort of child?”

  “Maybe,” I said with a smirk. I wasn’t being serious; teasing her and getting her all riled up was just amusing as hell.

  “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t actually have any say in what I do, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Hmm…I dunno about that. Pretty sure I can make you leave this party if I want to.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her look challenging me, and we stared at each other like dueling gunslingers waiting to see which one of us would draw first. I’d be damned if I’d blink before she did. I could feel my dick stirring in my pants already…she was driving me crazy. Her eyes alone could get me hard, whereas the stripper grinding on me earlier had only made me regret throwing this bachelor party.

  And we were fighting, for fuck’s sake.

  It was definitely those goddamn leather pants she was wearing. Where the hell did she get them, anyway? They needed to go. Actually, they needed to end up on the floor of my bedroom, if I had it my way.

  “So you want me to go?” Rory finally asked.

  “Yeah,” I growled, sitting back down. “If you know what’s good for you.”

  And if you don’t want me to carry you into my bedroom and fuck you senseless.

  I thought that was it, but apparently not. She wasn’t leaving just yet. She smirked at me, coming closer to my seat. Her gait was still unsteady, and I wondered if the ‘couple of glasses of wine’ she’d claimed to have had earlier was actually four or five glasses.

  “So you think I’m a kid, huh? Is this something a kid would do?” she asked, lightly fingering the top of her blouse as she stepped right up to my lap. “Maybe your friends had the right idea earlier…”

  Oh no.

  What the hell was she doing? I was almost losing it by this point, but I somehow managed to stay in my seat, staring up at her. She parted her legs, and I had to force myself to keep my eyes trained on hers as she slowly came forward and slid onto my lap, making me groan. Her center was hot against mine as she ground her hips on my crotch. Fucking hell, I wasn’t going to last long like this.

  My friends’ eyes were still focused elsewhere, their attentions held by two tanned pairs of fake breasts as a couple of the strippers gyrated together. Screw that. I much preferred a natural look on a girl rather than silicone and bleach.

  A girl who looked like Rory, to be more specific.

  A fast, upbeat song came on the stereo, and she used it to taunt me further, sliding over my crotch with motions that were driving me positively insane. She tipped her head back, her long hair falling in a waterfall down her back, and my hand tentatively reached out before settling on her hips. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to do, and I cursed our parents for making this so wrong, so forbidden.

  Rory kept dancing in my lap; slow, sensual and tantalizing…even though she was tipsy. There wasn’t much movement, but whenever she twisted in my lap, I nearly lost it. She was so beautiful, and she’d finally let go of her inhibitions, dancing like nobody was watching.

  Too bad she was obviously sloshed.

  She came closer, leaning down to me. Her hair fell around us like a curtain, shielding us from anyone who dared to take a look, and by now, my cock was stiff as a rock under her, begging for release. “Well…?” she purred in my ear, and I could only manage a groan in response, too turned on to form coherent sentences. “Is it? Is this something a kid would do?”

  My mind was going fuzzy. I knew if she taunted me further, I wouldn’t be able
to hold back, and as fun as Rory thought this was now, I was sure she didn’t want me carrying her back to my bed. She wasn’t mine to take, and besides, she’d been drinking. I wasn’t going to take advantage of that, no matter how much my cock was begging me to.

  “Yes,” I finally said in response to her question. “You’re being an immature little brat.”

  With a growl, I grabbed her hips and threw her over my shoulder, and she shrieked in surprise as my friends started cheering. Flashing them a cheesy smile, I walked the hell out of there, needing some privacy with her. She fought me the whole way as I carried her out of my suite and into the hallway, and finally, I set her down. She gave me a furious look, and at the same time, she almost looked offended that I’d ended our fun and games.

  “What’s your problem?” she said in a huff. “It was just a joke!”

  “My problem is my drunken stepsister giving me a lap dance, even as a so-called joke,” I said. “What if your Mom or my Dad had just happened to walk in, huh?”

  It suddenly seemed to dawn on her just how bad it had been for her to do that, and a mortified expression crossed her face. “I guess I had more wine than I thought,” she mumbled, looking down at the floor.

  I sighed. “It’s okay, we’ve all been there,” I said. Fuck, one time I’d gotten so drunk that I’d fallen off a boat…a boat that wasn’t even out on the water.

  We stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then I spoke up again. “Come on. I want you to see something.”

  Before she could object, I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the emergency exit. She didn’t fight me as I opened the door and led her up the steel stairs.

  We arrived at a small door and I produced a key from my pocket, something I’d gotten from hotel security ages ago. I’d never brought anyone up here, though—not a friend nor a girl. It was the rooftop of the hotel, obviously off-limits to hotel guests. I loved it up here, so I’d come up plenty of times to clear my head, and after Rory’s little dance, I felt like we both needed to cool down a little.

  I unlocked the door and led Rory outside, cold air knocking out the breath from my lungs. I needed it desperately, and so did she, judging by her earlier actions. I deeply inhaled the fresh night air, and I heard Rory gasp behind me, so I smiled at her over my shoulder. Our hands were still twined together as I closed the door and led her towards the edge of the building. She was drunk, so there was no way I was letting go of her. The last thing I needed was for her to somehow stumble right off the roof.

  “This is my favorite place in the hotel,” I said. She nodded, and we sat down on a stone bench I’d had taken up to the top of the building a while ago. “You feeling any better yet?”

  “A bit. It’s so nice up here,” Rory said, rubbing her temples with her free hand as she took in the view. “I didn’t even know what was hiding up here.”

  She smiled at me, and somehow it felt like she was talking about me instead of the view. My hand inched towards hers on the seat, and I stroked her soft skin with an absent mind.

  “I love the view, and it always calms me down,” I said. “Whenever things get...difficult...I come up here. You can come too, if you want. I can make you a copy of the key.”

  She squeezed my hand, as if she knew how much this place meant to me. Truth be told, I’d never dreamed of inviting a girl to this place, but it felt different with Rory. Special.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “By the way….sorry about the way I came in and screamed at you and your friends. I had a bit of a headache, and all I could hear was this bass through the wall.”

  I grinned. “Maybe you wouldn’t have had a headache if you’d laid off the wine. Where were you earlier, anyway?”

  “Oh, just at Clancy’s with a couple of friends for some early drinks,” she replied.

  “Clancy’s, huh?” I said, turning my head away from her and looking out at the ocean in the distance, which was glimmering with lights from boats and the reflections of the moon and stars.

  “Yeah,” she replied, her voice so soft that it was barely audible. I knew what she was thinking. It was the same thing as me—Clancy’s was the first place we’d ever seen each other, and after all these weeks, we’d still never really discussed what had happened.

  Better late than never.

  “I know you said I needed to drop this, but I really want you to know—I’ve wanted you to know this for ages—Candice isn’t my girlfriend,” I said. “She kinda was for a time, but I ended it with her a while back, way before I met you at Clancy’s that night. She didn’t want to accept it, and she’s been trying to screw with me ever since. I did lie to you about who I was that night, though, and that was wrong. I know it was, and I’m sorry. But that’s the only thing I lied about.”

  Her head jerked up. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  She was silent for a long time, and then she shook her head slowly. “God. I’m sorry, Finn. I feel like such a bitch. This whole time, I could’ve shut up for five minutes and let you explain, but I just kept cutting you off and assuming…”

  Her voice trailed off, and I smiled. “It’s okay. I get it. It looked pretty bad that night. I mean, you’d only just met me, and suddenly there’s this psychotic bitch screaming in your face about how you stole her boyfriend.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty bad,” she said, nodding in agreement.

  “Besides, I still lied about who I was and jacked your blind date’s spot.”

  “True. Why did you do that, anyway?” she asked, her eyes widening slightly.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked. “Because I wanted to talk to you. And you looked so expectant when you thought I was your date, so it was obvious you’d been sitting there for ages waiting for the prick to show up. I felt too bad to say I wasn’t him at first, but I was going to tell you eventually, I swear.”

  She sighed. “It’s my fault,” she said. “I just assumed you were Ben and didn’t even give you a chance to introduce yourself properly. I’m always assuming things. I need to stop it.”

  “Nah. It’s all good,” I replied. “I could have corrected you.”

  She was silent for a moment. “I’ve been avoiding you for the last week,” she finally said. “Because of what happened in the elevator. The…um…the kiss. I thought…I was feeling guilty because I thought maybe Candice was still in the picture, and suddenly I was the ‘other woman’, which I’d never, ever wanted to be.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you’ve been avoiding me. Good to know,” I said. “I thought I just had terrible breath.”

  “Oh yeah, that too,” she said with a hint of a mischievous smile.

  “Ha. So that was the only reason why?” I asked, training my eyes right on hers.

  She squirmed in her seat and averted her gaze from mine. “Well…it’s not just that. It’s our parents. We can’t do anything to hurt them or wreck their relationship. So that kiss…it can’t happen again. Nothing like that can happen.”

  I sighed heavily. She had a point; one which I’d been trying to mentally cast aside for a long time now. “So we should just act like stepbrother and stepsister, huh? Like friends.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Well, friendship was better than nothing—certainly better than having Rory hate me like she had in the past, anyway.

  “I’m guessing the friendly sibling package deal doesn’t include any more of those lap dances?” I teased.

  Even in the moonlight, I could see her cheeks flushing violently. “I can’t believe I did that,” she said. “What’s wrong with me?”

  I playfully nudged her. “Wine is what’s wrong with you. It’s okay, though, you already seem to be sobering up.”

  “I think I sobered up the second you threw me over your shoulder and I realized I’d just been doing a stripper dance for the guy I’m meant to hate.”

  I chuckled. “Well, at least something good came out of it. You gave me a chance to explain the Clancy’s thing, you don’t hate me
anymore, and we’re all good now. Right?”

  “Right. Friends,” she said, smiling weakly and extending her hand to me. “Just friends.”

  Yeah…just friends.

  I took her hand, and a spark of electricity shot up my arm as we shook. I ignored the feeling, had to push it away, because Rory was right—we couldn’t fuck up our parents’ relationship by getting any more involved with each other than we already had. We had to be friends and nothing more.

  Permanently.

  “Finn!” she said, pointing towards the sky a second later. “Look at that! It’s a shooting star.”

  My gaze followed her finger and indeed, there was a star falling down, its tail brightening the sky in a beautiful arc of light.

  “You have to wish for something,” I said with a grin. “And don’t tell me.”

  “Okay.” She was smiling as she closed her eyes, concentrating on her wish. It was adorable, and I had a sudden urge to pull her into my arms and never let her go. She peeked out before I could do that, frowning at me. “Hey, you have to do it, too!”

  I nodded, looking back at the star which was gone in a flash. And then I wished for something, wished so hard my hands formed fists and my brows furrowed.

  And like a stupid, naive child, I believed my wish would come true.

  Maybe, just this once, it would.

  Chapter Ten

  Rory

  Twenty minutes later, I was back in my room, and Finn had returned to his suite after promising me that he’d keep the party noises down to a dull roar. Truthfully, I’d wanted to stay out on the rooftop with him all night, but it would’ve been rude of him to completely abandon his friend’s bachelor party, and it would’ve been wrong of me to ask him to stay with me.

  We both knew why.

  After I’d finally discovered that Finn was well and truly single and had been since we first met, a flurry of conflicting emotions had swept through my mind. I’d barely been able to speak coherently enough to apologize for treating him like crap for the last few weeks. Part of me had felt utterly elated as his words sunk in, and then it had all come crashing down when another part of my brain reminded me that our parents were together—even if we wanted each other, it was a terrible idea. Sure, there was a chance it could work out, but considering how most young relationships failed, the last thing we needed to do was make things awkward for our family by dating and most likely breaking up somewhere down the line.

 

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