Dick: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

by Wild, Nikki

  “I fucking hate you,” I said, getting to my feet.

  “Oh, c’mon, Jess!” he said, though despite his supposed displeasure he seemed to take enjoyment from pushing me so far. “It’s just a little dare. What could go wrong?”

  “You need to go fuck yourself,” I spat, turning away from him and pushing my way out of the room. I needed to leave and I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way.

  “Jess!” I heard from behind me as I made it to the front door. It took all my resolve not to turn and look into my stepbrother’s eyes. Thankfully my anger was more than enough to keep my legs moving as I pushed through the crowd of still gyrating bodies and made for the door. Bursting into the open I was hit with the cool air. I was glad for the low heat as I set off for home at a jog, even as my tears stung on my cheek.

  How could he have done something like that to me?

  I knew that Richard had always loved to torture me, and for a time I thought that maybe it was his way of showing me some odd form of brotherly affection. But this had reached a level that bordered on pure sadism that I never imagined possible from even him. He’d come to my own party, with my friends for my graduation, and proceeded to transform it into what had practically become an orgy.

  I choked back a sob as I felt the weight of my party’s failure crashing over me. Everything had been perfect until my stepbrother had shown up, everyone was talking and having a good time. It was just the way I’d planned it, down to the very last detail. But the one thing I hadn’t planned for—the one person who I never imagined would show up—came in and completely turned my whole get-together upside down.

  “Jessica! Come on! It was just a game!” I heard him calling from almost a block away. But the sound of his excuses and half-assed apology only served to make me angrier.

  Bastard, I thought as I rounded a corner and headed toward me parents’ home.

  Everything had gone from polite conversation to people fucking in the closets in the blink of an eye, all thanks to my own personal Dick. I hated him with every fiber of my being. If I had a say in it, he’d stay at Yale and never come back, living out the rest of his life across the country where I could never again be bothered by the thought of his perfect, delicious existence.

  I didn’t stop until I was more than a few blocks away from Becky’s house, my own only a few streets away. I crumpled into a heap beneath an oak tree, my arms wrapped around myself as I mourned the one party I’d ever throw in my entire life, the only time I’d dare to even think of having a semblance of a social life. It had crumbled to pieces before my eyes.

  “I never want to see him again,” I whispered to the cold stillness of the night around me, my eyes closed as I pleaded with whoever was up above to grant me this one request—to take my stepbrother out of my life forever so that I’d never have to grieve over what I could never have. “I just want him to go away.”

  Chapter 4

  Dick

  “Jess!” I called out into the warm summer air. “C’mon! It’s just a game!”

  The night was only just now beginning to cool down after the merciless assault from the sun. I breathed in the cool air as I scanned the street for any signs of Jessica, hoping that I’d be able to catch her before she got too far.

  “Jessica! Come back to the party!” I called out again, though the only sound that came in answer was a celebratory shout from inside. I glanced back, looking in through the living room window as I watched one of Jessica’s nerdy friends get what might have passed for a lap dance from one of the girls. I shook my head before turning my attention back to the search for my stepsister.

  She couldn’t have gotten too far, I thought as I made my way through the car-packed street, on the lookout for Jessica’s lithe silhouette. I knew I’d upset her, and that really was the whole point, but watching her run out of the house like that brought about a twinge of guilt in my stomach—something I rarely felt. Life was too short to waste time feeling guilty over things—better to get over it and move on than dwell on the things that we regret. But even so, I at least owed Jessica an apology.

  “Jessica!” I called again, my hands cupped on either side of my mouth. “Come back!”

  But the only sounds that greeted me were the soft chirp of the crickets in the summer air. She was gone, and though I knew she would only have gotten a few blocks by now—especially since our house was only so far away from Becky’s—it still made me uncomfortable to know she’d completely taken off.

  She didn’t have to take it so seriously, I thought, shoving my hands into my pockets. It was just a game, after all.

  But was that totally true?

  I looked back toward Becky’s house, the sounds of the growing revelry rolling out from the open door as a few of Jessica’s friend’s spilled out onto the front lawn. The way Jessica had looked at me in there was like nothing I’d seen before, not from her. Her eyes never left me after I’d asked her that question.

  Out of everyone in this room, who do you want to fuck the most?

  I saw something in those eyes, something beyond her frightened deer-in-the-headlights stare. It was almost immediate, the way my body responded to that look, the way she stared into my eyes as if to answer the question in her stunned silence. I knew the look behind those eyes, the feeling she was too scared to express deep down, the one that I knew she wanted to tell me despite all of the fear.

  My stepsister wanted to fuck me.

  I gave some thought to running after her, to confronting her about the way she’d reacted, the things that it implied. But the idea of putting her through that was just too much. There was a difference between teasing her and torturing her in public and going after her on her own, making my little jabs personal. I might not have been the nicest brother in the world—heck, I’d heard Jessica and Becky refer to me as the “stepbrother from hell.” But there was one thing that I never was, and that was cruel.

  Could I really blame her for being attracted to me? I mean, I was a certified stud and everyone at school knew I was no stranger to the female body. Not to mention Jessica and I hardly even knew one another before our parents met, and starting high school sharing a house with a hot boy that your mom tells you to call your brother couldn’t have been easy. I almost felt a little sorry for the way Jessica must have felt—especially since I’d been harboring something of a crush on her when we’d first met. Thinking back on it now, I wondered whether that little crush of mine had ever actually faded, or simply changed into the strange teasing that Jessica had come to despise me for.

  It hadn’t been easy for me. All senior year I’d begun to catch myself watching Jessica in ways I’d only reserved for girls on the cheerleading squad, especially the way her ass looked in those tight little pencil skirts.

  I had cursed more than once the fact that the two of us were brother and sister—at least by marriage. The stigma of doing the things that I’d imagined doing to Jessica had weighed heavily on me whenever my thoughts had wandered to those dark, lustful corners of my mind. I could only imagine what it had been like for my repressed stepsister. And now, with the two of us going to opposite ends of the country for school, it looked like we’d finally be safe from our own desires… But was that what I really wanted?

  I heaved a sigh as I once more glanced back at the party I’d breathed life into. Jessica had probably had enough of me tonight, and if what I thought was true, then she needed time to herself to… unwind. And what kind of person would I be to leave a party I’d brought back from the brink of boredom?

  The game of Truth or Dare had continued without me, with more than a few boys and girls engaged in some hardly sensible displays of gratuitous affection. I leaned against the doorframe to the master bedroom, observing the sexual tension in the room sizzle and boil over. Things were certainly getting good.

  The door to the walk-in closet opened and Becky’s disheveled form stumbled out, a bleary—if satisfied—look in her eye, followed closely by the dark-haired man I’d s
ent in after her, a cocky smirk smeared across his face like so much of Becky’s lipstick.

  Now I remembered where I’d seen him before.

  Jessica always kept her boyfriends away from me, hiding them away from the whole family, but that smirk was unmistakable. This was the asshole… I’d only seen him from a distance when he’d dropped Jess off, and I knew the two of them had something of a rocky relationship—to put it lightly. Every few months, Jessica would come home from a date she’d had with this guy upset and angry, though I’d never honestly asked her why. Figured it was just teenaged bullshit.

  “Looks like someone had some fun,” I said, provoking a blush and an almost shameful look from Becky as she rushed out of the bedroom. I chuckled as I watched her lock herself away in the bathroom to clean herself up. She seemed to be having a good time.

  At least one of us is, I thought, turning my gaze back to the room.

  Michael was getting congratulated and patted on the back by all of his friends, all of whom stared up at him with puppy-dog-like admiration. The dynamic between them all made me frown as I watched Michael soak up all their praise. Something about him didn’t sit too well with me.

  Michael was very well-dressed, surprisingly put-together for someone who was only just moments ago getting some very intimate treatment from a pretty girl. The fact that he wasn’t as disheveled as Becky had me put off. Men who were that concerned about their looks always had me on edge, like they were hiding something behind that perfectly coiffed hair and smart outfit.

  The more I watched Michael and his little nerd posse, the less I actually liked him. Every single one of them fit a certain mold, but Michael didn’t belong here. He was almost as fit as I was, and it was clear he came from money. It left a bad taste in my mouth, watching him lord over his followers.

  “Spill it, Mike!” one of them said, their nasally voice resonating in the most grating way possible. “Did she put out?”

  “Did she ever,” Michael laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I had that bitch sucking my cock like the slut she is.”

  I frowned, my fists clenched as I continued listening to Michael go on about how he had Becky begging.

  “She whined like a bitch in heat,” he said, that cocky grin still plastered on his face.

  If only I’d had something close enough to throw, I’d have hit that smarmy little shit right in the eye. I thought I was doing both of them a favor, but clearly this little prick was just in it for a little fun and bragging rights. I’d always liked Becky—she was a good friend to Jess, and always did her best to get her out of trouble. I’d even started to consider her a part of the family, like a distant cousin who just won’t leave your house. She needed a chance to let loose, but hearing this jackass talking about her like that started to get my blood boiling.

  It took every ounce of my willpower not to march up to that prick and punch him right in his smug little face, but I had to stay cool. One slip-up and my full ride to Yale might just go down the drain before the first check could be cut. Going to college meant everything to my father, especially heading to Yale, and if I fucked that up I’d never hear the end of it. I needed to behave.

  “Can you just imagine all the pussy we’re going to get after we’re in college?” one of Michael’s minions sniveled.

  “You know it,” Michael laughed, “and when I get to UCLA, I’m going to own that place.”

  All of them laughed

  If Michael’s going to UCLA, then that means he’s going to be there with Jessica, I thought to myself. If he treats the women who give it up to him that way, I can only imagine the way he treats the ones who don’t.

  It was no secret that Jessica had never been laid. I mean, how could someone be that uptight after getting their needs met? No, Jessica was the exact opposite—she was a ball of nerves and frustration wrapped up in her pretty little conservative clothes. She and Michael had fought a lot—shouting matches over the phone, from what I’d witnessed.

  “So where’s Jessica? I want to see the look on her fucking ice queen face,” Michael said to his friends just loud enough that I could hear it. “Maybe if she’s lucky, I’ll let her have some sloppy seconds.”

  I have to keep that jackass away from her, I thought, giving Michael one last glance before I ducked back out of the room.

  A strange feeling was welling up inside me… Jealousy mingled with anger, but something else was on the edge of my perception. As I thought about Jessica all I could see was the way she stared at me with those wide eyes when I asked her who she wanted to fuck. There it was, plain as day.

  Desire. Raw and unrepentant.

  Chapter 5

  Jessica

  “What happened to you last night?”

  Becky called me the next evening just before bed like she always did, to talk about the day or vent our frustration. It was ritual we’d soon be nixing for face-to-face conversations on a nightly basis once we arrived at UCLA in a couple of days.

  “I could ask you the same question,” I replied, lying back on my bed. There was something in my voice that was hard, almost like resentment, and I immediately knew that Becky heard it too. Too bad I couldn’t stop myself from talking. “How could you play that stupid game… and with Michael no less?”

  “Hey,” she shot back defensively, “I didn’t know that it would be Michael… not that I’m complaining that it was. But how are you going to blame me for doing what you said we’d do—getting me kissed!”

  “He’s my ex, Becky!” I said. “And from what I heard in there, you were doing so much more than kissing.”

  There was silence over the phone for what almost seemed like a full minute. I wasn’t sure if Becky was mad or just embarrassed; either way, I felt like crap for calling her out like that.

  “You don’t get to be all judgy,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, though there was a definite edge to the way she spoke now. She was mad, and honestly, I deserved it. “You both aren’t dating anymore, and I’m a big girl now. I can decide who I want to do… things with.”

  “I just didn’t want you to get involved with a guy like Michael, that’s all,” I said, laying my head back on my pillow. “I wanted to do the best friend thing and look out for you, y’know?”

  “You keep saying stuff like that, Jess, but I don’t know what it’s supposed to mean. What’s so bad about Michael?”

  I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face. I hated talking about my time with Michael, even with Becky, and she knew that, but at the rate that she was pressing everything, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep what had happened between him and I a secret for very long.

  “Michael started out fine,” I began. “We did all the normal couple things that you’re supposed to do. We went on dates and went to the movies and kissed.”

  “That doesn’t sound so terrible,” she said.

  “I’m not done yet. After the first few months, things started to change. We’d be talking about things like school, and I’d correct him on something—usually something small, like the order of some historical event. And whenever I did that, he would get so mad.

  “I didn’t think anything of it at first, and he just glared at me and we finished our date. But after the two of us were alone…” I paused, swallowing hard as I remembered the way my cheek stung from that night. “He slapped me across the face. He told me never to correct him like that in public—or ever. He was so loud and so angry that I just told him ‘okay’ so that he’d stop.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Michael…” Becky said, her tone doubtful.

  “Maybe not the Michael you know,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. “It got so much worse than that, though.”

  “Maybe you’re just making it seem worse than it was,” she said, trying once again to make an excuse. “Look, if you’re jealous because I’m sleeping with him now…”

  “That’s just it, Becky,” I explained. “Michael and I never had sex the entire time we were together. Not ev
en once.”

  “That can’t be true,” Becky said.

  “He wanted to—all the time—but I told him that I wasn’t ready yet. It didn’t feel like the right time. That made him angry.” I stopped for a moment to try and steady myself, my eyes shut tight against the tears. “He kept slapping me and grabbing me, telling me that if I didn’t give it to him like I was “supposed to,” he would keep hurting me. He’s not a good person, Becky.”

  “Jessica,” she whispered, her voice faint. “Oh, my God… I’m sorry.”

  “He pulled out a fistful of my hair,” I continued, swallowing hard to keep my voice from cracking. “And after that, he told me that he was done with me. He didn’t want ‘some cow that didn’t put out.’_”

  Silence once again reigned over our conversation, both of us recovering from everything I’d just laid bare to her. I’d hoped that I would never have to tell her, or anyone, what Michael had done, and that the world would just move on and I could get on with my life. But I couldn’t let my best friend walk right into a relationship with the man who’d abused me for almost a year. I was lucky I got away from him, and if I could keep Becky from ever knowing that pain, then I’d do it, even if it cost me our friendship.

  “I love you, Becky,” I sighed. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister. So I need you to make me a promise that you’re never going to see Michael. I need that promise from you before I can sleep tonight.”

  “I… If you’d have told me, I would never…” she started, and I could practically picture her chewing on her lip in deliberation. “Okay, Jess. I promise.”

  “You’re not upset?”

  “I had a little fun and nothing bad happened. Besides… He wasn’t the only one I took to the closet last night.”

  “Oh God Becky!”

  “It was my last big bang here, cut me some slack. It’s in the past. I’m not mad Jess... Next time, stop me when I’m about to go down on an asshole!”