Step Bride: A Bad Boy Mob Romance (Includes bonus novel Honored!)

by Hamel, B. B.

  The box held a nice little surprise for my stepsister, and I couldn’t wait to deliver it.

  Chapter Seventeen: Natalie

  Another morning in the Barone compound.

  Another morning having dreamed about my stepbrother all night.

  About his lips against my neck.

  About the feeling in my stomach every time he came around.

  And about how angry he always made me.

  Arrogant and cocky. But at least his sister seemed very nice. I had liked Louisa as soon as we had first started speaking, despite how strange she was. Or maybe because of how strange she was. Everyone in the Barone compound seemed so stiff and formal, but Louisa was the first person to actually treat me like a normal human.

  I climbed out of bed, yawning. I had no clue what I was going to do all day, but part of me thought that it didn’t matter.

  Maybe I’d get a job. Or maybe I could work somewhere on the compound.

  Tough life. I lived in luxury and everything was provided for me. Anything I wanted, I could easily pick up the phone and get. So why did I feel so anxious all the time?

  I pulled open the door, expecting my usual breakfast. It was there, but the tray was perched on top of a box.

  I carried the tray inside and then grabbed the box. It was plain and unassuming and was wrapped in a red satin bow. There was a card attached, which I quickly opened.

  Natalie, For old memories and for new ones. Yours, Lucas.

  I frowned at that. What did it even mean? And why the heck was Lucas sending me presents?

  I quickly tore off the paper and pulled off the lid.

  Inside, I found underwear.

  Black, lacy, sexy underwear. Bras and matching panties, and all of it my size.

  Underneath them was the dress I had worn the night I went to his room. I put the underwear aside and pulled the dress out. There, staring me in the face, was the cum stain.

  “Gross,” I said, tossing the dress aside.

  At least the note finally made sense.

  What an asshole. Part of me felt angry as hell that he would send me something like that. What was he trying to do, rub my face in that dress? I’d already pegged him for an egotistical jerk, but I hadn’t thought he was genuinely mean as well.

  But as soon as I looked back at the underwear, I felt the other half of my emotions: pure, unbridled excitement.

  Lust burned through my chest, and I felt my skin tingle.

  I bit my lip, shaking my head. It was the exact response that he wanted. He wanted me to get turned on, to think about him stripping those sexy panties off my body slowly, about his tongue and fingers working me. He wanted me to remember the way his cock tasted, the way he came so hard, his grunts and groans.

  He wanted me to get soaking wet. And as much as I hated him for it, I was reacting exactly as predicted.

  I sat down on the couch, drinking the coffee that had been delivered on my breakfast tray. My last attempt at getting him back had completely backfired; I needed to think of something much better.

  It hit me almost all at once. I looked at the underwear again, frowning. There were four pairs; I decided to choose two. Quickly, I stripped off my sweatpants and slid on a frilly black pair.

  I sat back down on the couch and spread my legs wide, closing my eyes. I let my mind begin to wander.

  I thought about the night in the limo, his fingers inside me. He was a gorgeous stranger back then, and the danger of it only enhanced my excitement. My pussy got soaking wet remembering how incredible it had felt to let him get me off.

  And I began to rub my clit through the panties. It was so dirty, so dangerous to want him, to touch myself wearing the panties he had sent me. The danger only made me that much more aroused, though, as pleasure moved through me.

  I continued rubbing myself as I thought about the way his cock tasted. I loved how he had taken control that night, grabbing my ass, moving me to the couch, fucking my mouth, sucking my clit.

  I wanted him. God, I still wanted him so badly. I hated myself a tiny bit for that, since I knew that he knew it, that he had planned for all this. I was his secret wife, his stepsister, his sexual conquest, and I loved it, wanted more of it. I was drunk on him.

  I moved faster, slipping a hand down my panties to slide a finger deep inside myself as I began to rub my clit. I was soaking, the panties themselves absolutely wrecked and dripping. I wasn’t thinking about that, though. My plan was suddenly completely forgotten as I imagined what he could do to me.

  Sliding his cock between my legs. Maybe I’d let him fuck me on the desk of the empty classroom. I wanted to feel him take me from behind, to fuck me roughly up against a wall. He could grab my hands and hold them down as he fucked me, whispering all those delicious, dirty words in my ear.

  Pleasure bloomed through my whole body. It was so dangerous, so wrong, to want my stepbrother to fuck me roughly, to use me until I was begging for more. I’d never had a secret like him before, and I never knew that I wanted one. But I loved my secret marriage, loved how badly I wanted my secret husband.

  I came, slowly at first, my body twitching, my muscles tensing, thinking about him. He made me smile. He made me wet. He made me feel things I’d never felt before.

  And finally, the orgasm passed over. I lay back on the couch, slipping my hands from the panties. They were sufficiently soaked, and I was sufficiently tired.

  I glanced over at the pile of underwear and frowned.

  Only one more pair to go, thankfully. Maybe this would teach him for being such an arrogant asshole.

  Fantasy was okay. Fantasy was fun, even. But me and Lucas didn’t live in a fantasy world, and everything around us was so, so dangerous. As soon as the orgasm began to fade, my anger at him returned tenfold. He couldn’t take such big risks like sending me underwear and a cum-stained dress. He couldn’t be inviting me to his room.

  And I probably shouldn’t be sending him my used panties, but I couldn’t help myself.

  After all, he started it.

  I stood up and walked over to the phone. I ordered some orange juice and a bagel.

  I figured if I was going to get myself off again, I at least needed my energy.

  Chapter Eighteen: Lucas

  We spent the day planning.

  Vince and I went around town, pulling in favors, dropping wads of cash, and basically bugging every single cop that we had on the payroll.

  As far as a plan went, it was pretty simple. It came together a little faster than I was normally comfortable with, but I knew that speed was key here. We had to understand what had happened with the shipment, and we needed to find that rat as soon as humanly possible.

  I was putting a lot on the line trusting Vasili. If we checked this truck and there was nothing but the shipment in there, no clues or any shit like that, then my credibility might be questioned. Granted, I’d have to hunt down Vasili and take the rest of his fingers, and he knew that.

  Sometimes, being a violent, dangerous motherfucker had its perks. People tended not to lie to me, because it hadn’t worked so well for others in the past.

  Still, it was always a risk trusting a gutter fuck like Vasili. But I didn’t have any other choice.

  Losing that shipment was probably the biggest blow our family had taken in a long time. I knew my father mainly blamed me, though it was clear that something completely outside the realm of my control had happened.

  Still, it was my responsibility to fix that shit.

  And so I found myself standing with Vince a block away from the police compound lockup at three in the morning.

  “Think he’ll show?” Vince asked.

  “Fucker better,” I grumbled. “I’m tired and we dropped a lot of cash on this.”

  Vince chuckled. “Who’s money, anyway?”

  “My own personal stash.”

  “You got that kind of dough lying around?” He whistled.

  “I bury it in the backyard.”

  He laughed and
I just shrugged. I sipped my coffee. He didn’t need to know that I wasn’t kidding.

  Ten more minutes of standing around, shooting the shit before we heard steps approaching. Vince’s hand twitched toward his gun, and I just nodded at him.

  The guy rounded the corner. He was tall and thin, almost like a giant stick. His dark skin almost blended in with his dark blue cop uniform.

  “You the guys?” he asked as he stopped in front of us.

  Vince nodded. “Are you Sanders?”

  “Yeah, man,” he said. “You got my money?”

  I tossed him a small package. He caught it and quickly opened it, checking.

  “It’s all there,” I said, a little annoyed.

  “Hey, man, you can’t blame me for checking. I ain’t never dealt with you people before.”

  “We just want to look around. No trouble.”

  He shrugged. “Frankly, man, I don’t give a fuck what you guys do in there. Just be in and out in ten minutes and we’re good.”

  He began to walk back toward the compound and we followed him. Vince gave me a bemused look, and I just grinned at him.

  We walked past the main entrance. Our friend Sanders glanced inside but kept moving. The guy sitting behind the desk looked like he was asleep.

  We turned a corner and went down a narrow alley. Halfway down, we stopped in front of a side door that had been propped open with a brick. “In here,” Sanders said.

  We went inside. “Convenient,” Vince muttered.

  “Can’t go through the front with you two gangster-looking mother fuckers,” Sanders said.

  I laughed. I liked him.

  We moved through a series of short hallways.

  “If anyone asks,” Sanders said, “you just filed an ER-3481-C report, and I’m taking you to get your shit.”

  “What?” Vince asked.

  Sanders just kept moving head.

  We came up to a long hallway. Ahead of us was a large garage door. We stopped in front of it, and Sanders ran his I.D. badge through a small scanner.

  The door began to open.

  “Ten minutes,” he said. “I’ll open it again in ten. If you ain’t here, it’ll close on its own and I ain’t opening it again. Got it?”

  “Ten minutes,” I said.

  “Good luck.” He turned and walked away.

  Vince grinned at me. “Let’s do it.”

  The door finished opening up into the outside portion of the lockup. The building was a simple square, with the center courtyard set up to act as the outdoor storage for vehicles. They kept smaller, more sensitive things inside.

  The courtyard was packed with cars. We picked our way through, having to climb over a hood once or twice.

  “How the fuck did they even get this shit in here?” Vince asked.

  “Must be an outside entrance,” I said.

  Soon enough we made it to the other side. Sitting there in front of a large garage door that likely led to the street was the truck itself.

  “Here we go,” I muttered. “How are we on time?”

  “Six minutes,” he said.

  “Shit.”

  I quickly moved forward, slipping a pry bar from my coat. I slipped it under the back of the truck’s door and began to work it.

  The damn thing was stuck.

  “Give me a hand,” I said. Vince slipped out his own bar and began to work it with me.

  The thing didn’t want to budge. “Fuck. We have to hurry,” I said.

  “Come on,” Vince grunted. “Open, you mother fucker.”

  Finally, with a lurch, the door suddenly broke free of the lock and slid up. It opened with a loud, echoing bang.

  We froze.

  “Shit,” I said.

  But Vince was staring into the truck, wide-eyed.

  “Boss, look.”

  I followed his gaze.

  The truck was completely empty.

  “What the fuck?” I said.

  Vince climbed in and walked toward the back. I followed him inside.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “Think they moved it inside?”

  “Maybe.” He frowned. “We’ll ask Sanders.”

  “Check the cab.”

  Vince hopped out and I heard him break open the front door.

  I did a quick search of the back and didn’t turn up a thing.

  “Nothing,” Vince said. “And we better move.”

  I nodded, hopping out of the truck. I pulled the door shut, and we began to jog back toward the other entrance.

  Ahead, we saw the doors open. I jumped over a car, landing in a full-on sprint, Vince on my tail. We had to scramble over the hoods of cars, and we made one hell of a racket, but we made it, slipping under the door just in time.

  Sanders stared at us. “You made a lot of fucking noise,” he grumbled.

  “Sorry,” I said, catching my breath.

  He began to walk back the way we had come. Vince and I followed.

  “Hey, listen,” I said. “Did you look up that truck for us?”

  “Yeah, like you asked. Got the papers here.” He held out a small packet.

  Vince took it and began to look through the stuff. We kept walking and ducked back into the original room, weaving our way through shelves.

  We stopped in front of a fire exit.

  “The stuff in the truck,” Vince said, “it’s not kept in storage inside?”

  Sanders shrugged. “Fuck if I know. What’s it say in there?”

  “Doesn’t say. Just says a truck plus cargo was stored outside.”

  “Then the stuff should still be in there.” He frowned. “Why? Was it empty?”

  “Thanks, Sanders,” I said, moving out into the alley. Vince followed me.

  I heard the guy mutter something about damn mobsters, but we were gone, already heading back to the car.

  We didn’t say a word to each other as we walked back in front of the building again. The guy at the front desk looked as asleep as he had earlier, which was good. We probably woke up half the damn block running over those cars.

  Once around the block, we stopped and leaned up against a stoop.

  “Well?” Vince asked.

  “Truck was empty,” I said.

  “Yeah, it was.”

  “I think that’s what we were supposed to see.”

  “You think someone took the stuff?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  We were silent for a minute.

  “Whole thing was a setup,” Vince said finally.

  “Yeah, it was.” I shook my head. “But by who?”

  “The Russians?”

  “Makes no sense. They wouldn’t risk a war with us, especially not over that deal.”

  “Maybe they didn’t think it was as good as you did.”

  “Maybe,” I said, shaking my head. “Or maybe their organization has a few leaks in it, too.”

  We climbed back into the car and Vince fired up the engine.

  The drive back was full of silent plotting. My head was spinning through the possibilities, trying to figure out the players.

  Everything felt like it was resting on a foundation of sand. Between the rat, the stolen shipment, and Natalie, I was torn in a hundred different directions.

  And it made me feel so fucking alive.

  I loved the stress. I thrived on it. I hadn’t gotten to my position, my level of power, without being able to perform under pressure. That was what separated me from other men. I could do what was necessary even when the stakes were high as hell.

  We got back to the compound around four, and I climbed out of the car. I waved to Vince as I headed back inside, and he went to put the car in the garage.

  I stumbled up the steps, exhausted, ready to finally get some fucking sleep. But sitting outside my room was a small box wrapped in a bow, much like the one I had left outside Natalie’s room.

  A smile spread across my face. I grabbed the box and carried it into my room.

  Inside, I poured some whi
sky and put on a record. I smiled to myself as I opened up the card.

  Memory of me is all you’ll ever have from now on. Here’s a hint: Smell is the best trigger. Natalie.

  I opened the box and my smile turned into a huge grin. Inside were two panties I had sent her earlier.

  And instantly I knew what the card meant by smell. I picked up a pair and lifted it to my nose.

  Unmistakable. It was her smell, her fucking delicious smell. I breathed her in deeply. The girl had clearly gotten off in these, and that made my cock instantly hard.

  She was crazy. I couldn’t believe she had responded that way. I mostly expected her to feel embarrassed and to maybe throw it all away. But instead, she sent me back this, the perfect response.

  I smelled the other pair, smiling to myself. Scent really was the best trigger of memory, and the thought of her body came rushing back to me.

  I wasn’t sure what she intended with the panties, but it only made me want her even more. I took another deep sip of whisky, remembering the way she whimpered as my fingers did their magic, working her soaked cunt, making her mine.

  I put the box on my nightstand, finished off my whisky, and climbed into bed. Maybe I’d have a nice dream of her sweet pussy wrapped around my raging hard dick.

  Or maybe in the morning I could make that a reality. Maybe those panties were meant to be a challenge, but I saw them as a promise.

  A promise that she was going to be mine, one way or another.

  Chapter Nineteen: Natalie

  The pool was surprisingly calm and empty as I sat there listening to music and paging through a magazine.

  I kept thinking about my little prank that I had sent Lucas the day before. I hadn’t heard anything from him, but I knew he got the box. At least, it wasn’t sitting out in front of his door anymore.

  I had a weird little feeling in the back of my head. What if he hadn’t gotten it? What if someone else had grabbed it? I would be so, so embarrassed. Worse, it could cause some problems in his crazy family.

  But I couldn’t worry myself too much. He had started it, so I was assuming leaving presents like that was safe. Hopefully at least.