Alphas: A Stepbrother Romance Collection

by Kristianna Sawyer

  Alphas: A Stepbrother Romance Collection

  Kristianna Sawyer

  Kristianna Sawyer reserves all rights to ALPHAS. Any resemblance to people or places is a coincidence. Please respect the copyright by not sharing this work. Permission of the author or publisher is required to copy any part of this work. All sexually active characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

  © Kristianna Sawyer, 2015 (Previously published under a different pen name and title.)

  Cover image: Depositphoto/fxquadro

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  Contents

  Blurb

  Revenge

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Claimed

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Epilogue

  Owned

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Stepbrother Romances

  Fertile Erotic Romances

  Blurb

  A collection of three of Kristianna’s hottest stepbrother stories, featuring alpha stepbrothers who aren’t afraid to claim the stepsisters they love, no matter how forbidden.

  Declan’s plan to seduce Lia for revenge goes awry in “Revenge.”

  Ambra hasn’t seen Ethan for three years, but that doesn’t keep her stepbrother from kidnapping her away from her engagement party to be “Claimed.”

  Knox tried to shield Claire from his darker urges and need to own her, but her teasing has pushed him to the edge. She’s about to find out what it means to be “Owned.”

  Revenge

  Declan:

  I hate Tom Ambrose.

  He ripped apart my family when he married my dad.

  I found my mom bleeding on the floor and promised her revenge.

  Sweet Lia

  My new stepsister.

  She’s the key.

  I just need to seduce and break her to humiliate her father.

  How hard can it be?

  I’ll just ignore how she makes me feel and focus on retribution.

  I don’t need or want a conscience screwing this up.

  Lia:

  Declan is a bad boy through-and-through.

  He’s a musician and rough around the edges.

  I’m the daughter of a wealthy man.

  The innocent, untouched daughter.

  Declan is just the man to change that.

  Too bad he’s my new stepbrother.

  Why does something so bad for me taste so good?

  Chapter One

  Declan

  Why had I come to this farce? There were way too many smarmy rich people in their fancy suits for my tastes. Despite my upper middleclass upbringing, give me a nightclub or even a seedy bar over a sparkling Sonoma Valley wedding at the country club in the afternoon.

  A quick glimpse of my dad and my new stepdad reminded me, and I grimaced at the sight. No, I wasn’t a homophobe. I couldn’t care less whose dick went where, but you’d better bet I fucking care when that dick-swapping leads to the breakup of my parents’ marriage and my mother weeping on the bathroom floor.

  Remembering the sight of my mother with that razor in her hand, the first few hesitation marks causing blood to well and soak the white cuff of her blouse, soured the taste of the expensive champagne in my mouth. Still, I swallowed the rest of the glass, because it was there, and I liked thinking it was another debit on the debt Tom Ambrose owed my mom.

  My dad was dancing close to his new husband, and they looked like fucking honeymooners, all dewy-eyed and fresh, instead of the forty-somethings they really were. I’d never seen him dance like that with my mom, but their marriage had been sound. She had relied on him until the unthinkable, when Tom dragged him out of the closet he’d sheltered in for decades.

  I wanted to be happy for my dad, who was finally acknowledging an important side of himself. If it had been any of my friends who came out, I’d have supported them. I was all for embracing your sexuality, but not at the cost of your family. His confession and abandonment almost drove my mother to suicide. If I hadn’t walked in at just the right moment…

  I shuddered slightly as I again recalled my mother bleeding on the bathroom floor. She had allowed me to bandage it up as she stared at me impassively. My suggestion of a doctor had been soundly rejected, along with the reminder of the gossip she had already endured, and extrication of a promise that I wouldn’t mention it to anyone.

  That hadn’t been the only promise she’d tried to get from me that day.

  “Declan, my sweet boy.” She had caressed my cheek like she used to when I was little and had trouble falling asleep. “He’s taken everything except you, but losing you would kill him. Promise me you’ll cut him out of your life.”

  I couldn’t make that promise, because I still loved my dad. Mike Mulvaney had been there for me—tossing the ball around, helping with homework, coaching my Little League team, and coming to my band’s first performance when we still really sucked. We still kind of sucked now, but not to the same level of suckitude.

  Instead, I promised her something more important: Revenge. Tom had destroyed Mom’s life, and he’d fucked with mine on a basic level too. Before then, I hadn’t lived at home for three years, but I’d been the one left to pick up the pieces for my emotionally fragile mother. My dad deserved his share of hurt, but I knew who was really to blame for seducing him away from his old life and into this new one.

  The question was how to make it happen. With that goal in mind, I followed Tom with my gaze for the rest of the afternoon reception. It soon became obvious that next to my dad, there was one other person who seemed to mean the world to ol’ Stepdad. His daughter.

  I watched with contempt as he danced with the pretty young thing—and I had to admit she was gorgeous in an innocent girl-next-door kind of way that wasn’t my usual taste at all—cupping her cheek and patting her long blonde curls as they laughed and spoke with evident affection. She was his Achilles’ heel.

  Lia Ambrose, my new stepsister and the apple of her daddy’s eye, was the key to my revenge.

  As I continued to drink the expensive champagne and made only a token effort to mingle, my brain whirred with tactics. Before the reception ended, I had a plan firmly in mind for ruining Lia and breaking Tom’s heart.

  When they toasted the couple at the end of the evening, before my dad and hers were due to slip out, I lifted my glass and called out, “To success,” before downing the glass. She looked briefly puzzled, but sipped politely, as did the other guests. They probably thought I meant to a successful marriage. Idiots.

  I put the first stage of my plan in motion before my dad could leave. I cornered him, along with Tom, as they were edging toward the double doors that led from the ballroom at the country club. “Hey, Dad, got a minute?”

  “Sure, son.” He looked tentative, as though he didn’t know what kind of reaction to expect.

  That was fair enough, since I hadn’t spoken to him at all for months after his revelation and had only agreed to come to the wedding when he’d practically begged me to—and when I’d realiz
ed it would help me find the most efficient method of revenge.

  Tom glanced at his watch and gave me a friendly smile. “What good is it owning the jet if you can’t delay takeoff a few minutes for your son, right?”

  When he clapped a hand on my shoulder, I had to restrain the urge to shrug it off and punch him. Somehow, I managed a sickly smile and nod of my head before turning back to Dad. “Would it be okay if I crash at your place for a while? Mom is…” I trailed off, letting him fill in the blanks with whatever shit his mind conjured to justify his actions. “I could use a break from her, and I gave up my apartment after…” Once again, I trailed off, cutting my gaze briefly to Tom.

  Dad looked at Tom. “Do you mind, hon?”

  Tom shook his head. “Of course not.” He lifted his hand, and the princess appeared a moment later, as though he had summoned her by some silent means. I’d think perhaps a dog whistle, but there was nothing homely about my new stepsister. “Lia, love, your brother is going to be staying with us for a while. Could you please get him settled in the guesthouse?”

  She cast me an uncertain look, and it raised my hackles. Did she think I was going to make off with the silver? I’d have to start by prying out the spoon wedged firmly in her mouth. “If it’s not too much trouble, sis?” I couldn’t resist the hint of mocking, though it wouldn’t further my agenda.

  “Of course not, but wouldn’t you prefer a suite in the house?”

  “A young man surely wants his privacy, Lia.” Tom and Mike shared a knowing glance and a chuckle as they clearly shared the same thought about my sex life.

  It took Princess another second to realize her dad’s subtle meaning, and I barely bit back a snicker at the way her cheeks bloomed with color. Exactly how innocent was Lia Ambrose?

  I intended to find out and ruin every last vestige of that innocence. It would be my parting gift to Tom Ambrose.

  Chapter Two

  Lia

  He walked too close to me, but I couldn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t mean to hog all my personal space and have his body brushing mine with every other step. Or maybe he was trying to annoy me, which was working.

  If only it was just annoyance I felt when Declan Mulvaney barely touched me. He was way too sexy for my own good, with his bad boy thing, including the requisite overly long dark hair, flashing blue eyes, and taut six-pack. Okay, I didn’t know if he actually had a six-pack under the oxford shirt he’d worn for the ceremony and reception, but it was a safe bet. Men like him always had that kind of body.

  And he was a musician. It was like he’d been made to order to fulfill all my naughtiest fantasies. What’s a good girl supposed to do except fantasize about the bad boy who seduces her? I’d spent way too long just imagining instead of doing, thanks to my own choices.

  The harsh truth was I needed to get laid. Only at twenty, it was kind of awkward still being a virgin. And horny. It was embarrassing how often I thought about cock. Craved it, dreamed about it, and wrote about it in my pathetic virgin’s diary. Despite all that, I was no closer to getting the V-card punched than I had been in high school or the first two years of college.

  Sex on legs with the added baggage of being my new stepbrother was the last thing I needed. I mean I’d love a go at him. What woman wouldn’t? But it would be too awkward, what with him living with us for a while, and his dad having just married mine.

  It was definitely a good idea that my dad had suggested the guesthouse. I could park him here, assign a couple of members of the staff to cater to his needs, and basically forget about my sexy new stepbrother. Right?

  “You’re so quiet, Lia.”

  I jumped at the sound of his voice, which was deeper than it should be for a guy in his early twenties who didn’t smoke. I guessed it was his musician’s voice. It sent all kinds of chills up my spine and moistened my panties. “I…huh…what?” You’d never believe I had won a state forensics competition, would you?

  “Are you always so quiet?”

  I shrugged. “Depends, I guess.” In an attempt to distract him from me, I pushed open the entry door to the guesthouse with too much gusto, and it slammed against the stopper, making a pinging sound. “Well, here you are.”

  “You aren’t going to show me around?”

  “It’s only a few rooms…” I trailed off, knowing I was being rude. Years of ingrained manners warred with common sense that urged me to get away right now. Manners won, dang my stupid upper-class upbringing, complete with a British nanny. “Yeah, okay.”

  With a deep breath, I crossed the threshold, and he didn’t move any farther away. At least he didn’t come closer, but he was still in my bubble, and I didn’t like it. Or maybe I just liked it too much.

  I led him through the bottom floor of the guesthouse, pausing at the staircase. “There are two suites upstairs, and you can decide for yourself which you’d like. The pool is just a few steps out the backdoor, and there are swim clothes in the cabana if you need to use some. Dad likes to keep a supply on hand for guests. No one’s worn them or anything, because that would be gross. I think the maid donates them to charity or something after the guests use them.”

  I was a babbling moron. He didn’t care about the swimwear, and his smirk showed it. I started shuffling around him, intent on reaching the front door. The only problem was he matched my every step, always keeping his body between me and the exit.

  I thought he was trying to intimidate me, but it wasn’t working. I wasn’t frightened of him. My own reactions were a lot scarier, and I wasn’t sure how to cope. “I, well, okay…good night.”

  Thinking boldness would work, I attempted to step around him, but his arm shot out and caught hold of my wrist, arresting me in my path. I stared at him with confusion. “Do you need something?”

  A strange expression flitted across his face, and his eyes took on a coldness that made me shiver. When he blinked, he looked completely normal, and I guessed I must have imagined that. “Just some company and conversation.”

  “I’m really tired. It’s been a long day—”

  Ignoring my protest and attempts at token resistance, Declan stepped closer and slung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his solid frame. Yeah, there had to be a six-pack under that cotton shirt. My mouth watered, and I swallowed quickly to keep from turning into a drooling, blathering idiot. I think I might have missed the opportunity to avoid the second impression already.

  He led me into the living room, pulling me down onto the overstuffed sofa beside him. At least he removed his arm from my shoulders, but having the length of his thigh pressed against mine wasn’t doing anything to calm my raging hormones or restore equilibrium.

  “What do you do in this mausoleum all day?” With no regard for the furniture, he propped his shoes on the large coffee table.

  I didn’t admonish him, because it was rude and I didn’t want to seem like an embodiment of Miss Manners. “I go to school.”

  He cocked a brow. “Ivy League, of course.”

  I sniffed at him. “Leven’s Ladies’ College, if you must know.”

  He blinked before a smirk bloomed across his face. “You go to a college for girls?”

  I nodded, hackles rising.

  “But why? You’re missing the best part of college surrounding yourself with chicks all day.” His eyes narrowed. “Or are you a lesbian? ‘Cause that would make a lot of sense.”

  “Because my dad is gay?” I snarled. “Gay people always raise gay kids, right?”

  With wide eyes, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Take it down a notch, sis. I didn’t mean anything like that. I just meant the pussy possibilities at a girls’ college would be limitless if you’re into chicks.”

  “I’m not.” Still angry, I continued glaring at him, but gradually let my body relax against the sofa again. “And I’m not your sister,” I muttered so quietly I wasn’t sure he heard me.

  “Has your dad always been gay, or did he spring that surprise on you one morning?
”

  I detected the trace of bitterness in his tone and had a stirring of sympathy. My stepbrother—and I should really focus on reminding myself of our new familial connections any time my thoughts strayed somewhere naughtier—was obviously still angry about everything. Maybe I could try cutting him some slack. Once he got used to our dads together, perhaps the jerkiness would ease down, and we might actually be friends.

  Yeah, probably not. Still, I tried to relay my sympathy when I replied. “He’s been out as long as I can remember.”

  “Are you adopted?”

  “Surrogate.”

  “And you don’t miss having a mother?”

  I hesitated, lifting a shoulder. “I guess sometimes. I know a bit about the surrogate who carried me. She still sends me a birthday card every year, but I don’t feel like she’s my mother in any sense.”

  “Was she your mom?”

  I shook my head. “No, she just carried me. I’ve seen the profile for the egg donor, but it’s what you’d expect—like reading random facts about a stranger.” I touched my hair. “I guess I got the blonde from her, since Dad has dark hair. It doesn’t make me feel any closer to her. She didn’t want a kid, and I guess I don’t want a mother. Not that kind anyway.”

  “I’m close to my mom.” His eyes darkened a bit, and he looked brooding, which was dangerously sexy. “I guess a lot closer lately.”

  He didn’t have to explain. The mood was rapidly becoming morose, and I did my best to change the subject. “If you’re looking for things to do, there’s a mall on the pier not too far from here. They have a huge theater with fifty screens. I don’t know what you’re into, but it’s a big city, so I’m sure you can find anything you want here.”

  “I don’t think I’ll have to go far to find what I want.”

  His gaze centered on my lips, and his pupils dilated with I moistened them with my tongue. The sensual undertone in his voice made me squeeze my thighs together, and I was about two seconds from leaning forward to kiss my stepbrother.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  I shook my head, unable to explain I had wasted the best part of my teenage years pursuing academic perfection instead of having sex. I’d been an idiot. “Do you have a girlfriend?” My voice was husky, and I sounded like I had laryngitis.