Mine - A Stepbrother Romance

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Mine - A Stepbrother Romance Page 6

by Daire, Caitlin


  He had a hand over his bits in the picture, but I could still see enough…enough to make me feel the same tingling I’d experienced the first time I met him. Coupled with everything I knew about him now, it was a weird mix of pure anger and intense desire, and my hand suddenly seemed to develop a mind of its own, pushing down my jeans and lacy underwear and tracing my swollen lips.

  No. I couldn’t do that. There was only one thing I could do. I yanked my hand out of my pants and tried to push my desire aside, and then I picked up the frame, marched across the hall and hammered on Mason’s door.

  “I see you got my gift,” he said as he opened it, handsome features twisted into that famous smirk of his. He’d probably been standing there waiting for me, knowing he’d get some sort of reaction.

  “Take it back,” I said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want this.”

  “I thought you’d like it,” he said, crossing his arms and regarding me with amusement.

  “Well, I don’t,” I replied haughtily. “When did you even get time to do this? I’ve only been here for a day!”

  “I have my ways,” he said with an enigmatic grin.

  “Let me guess, you keep a bunch of these framed photos stockpiled in there to hand out to girls?”

  He chuckled. “No, but that’s a good idea. Thanks. So why don’t you like it?” he said, cocking his head to the side in mock ignorance.

  I narrowed my eyes. “You know exactly why. This isn’t art. It’s just you…naked. No one wants to see that.”

  “Well, I know I’ve skipped the gym a couple of times this week, but I didn’t think my body looked that bad. I’m kinda hurt, sis.”

  I thrust the photo in his face again. “Don’t call me sis. I don’t care that our parents are married; we are not family and never will be. I don’t even want to be friends with you, let alone anything else. Either take this back or I’m hanging it up at the end of the hall so it’s the first thing Roy and Layla see when they get up tomorrow.”

  He held up his hands in mock defeat. “Fine. But once you’ve returned it, that’s it. No take-backsies.”

  “Take-backsies? I don’t even know what that is, but it sounds like something a six year old would say. Oh wait, you are around that age mentally, aren’t you?”

  I stormed back to my room, not even waiting for his reply, and I furiously undressed and crawled into bed, my skin hot with anger. Tension flooded my body with adrenaline, and suddenly I wasn’t tired anymore. Seeing that photo of him had awakened something deep inside of me; a desperate, longing urge to feel the touch of a man. Until now, I’d needed to believe that all the waiting around for the perfect guy wasn’t all for nothing, but as hormones rushed through me, I began to wonder if that was a mistake.

  The adrenaline in my veins gave way to a pulsing warmth which surged through me, filling my core with desire. Mason. Thoughts of him made me shiver under the covers, immediately embarrassed by my mind. He was such a douchebag, and my stepbrother to boot. It would be more than inappropriate to start touching myself right now, and even thinking about it made me feel dirty.

  But that didn’t stop my hand sliding down over my warm center, and letting out a sigh, I let my fingers delve between my soft pink folds. Closing my eyes, I located the sensitive nub of my clit, stroking and rubbing ever-so-gently as heat rushed through me. A thin sheen of sweat coated my skin as I played in the valley between my legs, and I inhaled deeply as I threw my head back, almost unable to wait for the relief I was seeking. Think about someone else, I commanded myself. Not him.

  My finger danced on my clit, tracing delicate patterns over and around it that soon grew faster and more urgent, and my stomach fluttered as my mind clouded with images of a faceless man with bulky muscles and a thick cock, pinning me down and doing away with my virginity in one hard movement. As I increased the pressure on my clit, the man in my imagination made a sound, and I realized he was no longer faceless. As much as I’d tried to stop thinking about him, it was Mason, and in my mind’s eye he was sweating and letting out guttural groans and pants as he moved against me.

  My body responded powerfully to the image, and jolts of electricity surged from the top of my spine all the way down to the area between my legs. I let out a moan and arched my back, rubbing harder and faster. Warm spirals of pleasure soared through my core as I continued to tease myself, and all the nervous tension from the last week began to melt away as I thrust my hips up into my hand.

  Sliding the other hand further down between my thighs, I dipped a finger inside myself, delving deeply into my tightness and biting my lip as I felt how utterly aroused I was. I was no stranger to touching myself, but I’d never gone so far as to slip anything inside me, and I moaned again as my inner walls clenched around me.

  Slick warmth coated my finger as I slid it in and out, slowly but surely as I built up to a crescendo with the fingertip that was still dancing on my clit, and a distant part of my mind hoped that no one was passing in the hall and hearing the soft, wet sounds my body was making along with the moans that were falling from my lips.

  The pool of bliss that was building in my core felt agonizingly good, and I pictured Mason’s cock plunging in and out of me again and again, stretching me and filling me as he moved on top of me, edging me closer and closer towards bliss.

  Bzzt.

  My cell phone vibrated on the bedside table, and I groaned and pulled my hands away from myself as the sound yanked me right out of my fantasy. Sighing, I reached over and grabbed the phone, and a message from an unfamiliar number popped up on the screen.

  The walls in this place are thinner than you think. Sure you don’t want the photo back as inspiration to help finish you off?

  Dammit. Mason was probably right outside my door listening in, the creep. I quickly texted back: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Mason: Don’t lie. I could hear you moaning.

  I was yawning loudly because I’m tired, I shot back. How did you even get my number?

  Mason: How do you think? We have to have each other’s numbers now that we’re family. Night, sis ;)

  Ugh. I didn’t even bother responding again, and I threw my phone down beside me and then settled back into bed in a huff. I’d been so close to making myself come, but now I was too annoyed with myself to keep going. I’d given Mason exactly what he wanted by reacting to his stupid gift, and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

  Another message came through, and I rolled my eyes and looked at it.

  Mason: Next time you need someone to play with, just remember I’m right across the hall…

  I groaned and rolled over, burying my head in my pillow. As much as I hated to admit it, the tiniest part of me wanted to take him up on his offer. I wanted to play more than silly little games with him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ARIZONA

  The next few days flew by, and the more time I spent at the mansion, the more settled in I felt. Tina texted me nonstop, giving me updates on Leyton which usually consisted of ‘it’s still boring, nothing is happening’, which stopped me from missing it as much as I’d thought I might seeing as it was my hometown, and Roy had taken a few days off work just to spend time with me.

  I’d learned a lot of things about him and my biological mother from our chats. Apparently they’d actually met in Arizona, so he thought it was some strange sort of sign that my other parents had named me that. That’s what I’d taken to calling the Kellers – my other parents. I rarely brought them up around Roy, because every time I did, I could see the hurt and anger in his eyes. He didn’t deserve that.

  We’d had a short discussion on what I was actually going to do now that I was staying here for the foreseeable future, and he’d laid out a lot of options. He said if I wanted to go to college, then he’d pay for it without question, and if I just wanted to work, then he had plenty of connections to help out with that. He’d even offered for me to come in and help him at his company headquarters in Providenc
e, starting in a couple of weeks, and I’d ended up accepting that for now. That way I could slowly ease myself into life here in Rhode Island instead of being thrown in the deep end with a bunch of strangers right away.

  Maybe I’d go to college later; who knew right now? It had never even been an option for me before, even though I’d received fairly good grades in school. It was simply unaffordable, so I’d never even applied. Having money, or at least having parents with money, really opened up a lot of doors, and I was beyond grateful that I was suddenly having all these new opportunities being given to me.

  Roy’s assistant Victoria still seemed rather standoffish around me, and I couldn’t figure out why. I assumed she didn’t trust me, seeing as I’d just miraculously appeared in Roy’s life only very recently, and I couldn’t blame her for that. She obviously cared about him as her employer, and all I could do was try to show her and everyone else that I was only here to get to know him. I didn’t really care about his money or the big house or anything else. I just wanted to get to know my real Dad.

  As for Mason…well, I thought I’d learned in high school biology that Neanderthals were extinct. Apparently not. He’d been screwing with me for the last few days by acting totally normal whenever Roy and Layla were around, and then sleazing onto me like a childish idiot when he got me alone. Slapping my ass while pretending to be reaching for something else. Making inappropriate jokes. Mimicking me touching myself the other night. You get the gist.

  I knew he was just doing it to annoy me, and it was working. I was more than annoyed. I wanted to kill him. Why couldn’t he just move out? I mean, I wasn’t trying to say that this was my house now that I was here, but he was twenty years old. Wasn’t that old enough for him to get his own bachelor pad away from the family homestead? Then again, he was only a year older than me, and he seemed to have the mental maturity of a fruit bat.

  It was Friday afternoon now, and Roy was at his office. I was feeling a bit peckish, so I decided to head downstairs to the kitchen to see if there were any leftovers from last night’s dinner in the fridge.

  As I closed my door, I looked down the hall and immediately suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Of course Mason just so happened to be walking the opposite way up the hall at the same time. Ugh. It was like he had some sort of radar thing on me to track all of my movements.

  “Oh look, it’s Daddy’s little girl,” he said, heading straight for me. He was wearing a bright red T-shirt and faded blue jeans that probably cost more than what I’d made in a week back in Leyton, and I wrinkled my nose.

  “Oh look, it’s Clifford the Big Red Dipshit,” I replied in an acid tone.

  I was trying to annoy him, but he simply grinned. “Smart. Where are you going?”

  “None of your business,” I replied. “Shouldn’t you be under a bridge somewhere, handing out riddles to anyone who tries to cross?”

  “Oh, come on, be nice. We have to go to that party tonight, remember? Let’s be friends.”

  He pretended to pout and then smirked for what seemed like the billionth time since I’d met him, and I crossed my arms. Jeez, he was immature. “I’m only going to the party with you because your Mom insisted I go and try to make friends. But believe me, if your friends are anything like you, then I’d rather jump in front of a truck,” I said.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t listen to everything that old witch tells you to do, then,” he said, his eyes darkening at the mention of his mother.

  “What is your problem with her?” I asked. “You’re lucky your Mom’s still alive. My biological mother and the woman who raised me are both dead.”

  He shrugged. “If you knew her properly, you’d know why.”

  I rolled my eyes and pushed past him before heading down to the kitchen. Layla was already in there, pouring some green, sludgy-looking concoction out of a blender and into a glass, and I felt a pang of envy as I took in her appearance. Even though she was pushing forty-five, she still had a better body than most twenty-year-olds, and her tight black yoga pants and neon pink crop top made that all too clear.

  Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight ballerina bun, and she smiled as she noticed me entering the room.

  “Oh, Arizona! How are you? Sorry I missed dinner last night. I had an important meeting.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, returning her smile. “I’m okay, just a bit hungry. I thought I’d grab something from the fridge.”

  She waved her hands at me. “You can just get the maids to bring you something, you know. It’s their job, after all. But why don’t you try some of this?”

  She held up the glass of green sludge, and I arched an eyebrow. “Um…what is it? Wheatgrass?”

  “Oh, heavens no. Wheatgrass is so 2003. This is a kale smoothie,” she said. “Tastes incredible. Amazing for your skin and general health, and amazing for weight loss too. You should try having one every morning, sweetie. It’d do wonders for you.”

  Was she insinuating that I needed to lose weight? I couldn’t quite tell. The way she’d worded it made it sound like she was more or less concerned with my overall health, but the manner in which her green eyes were roaming over my not-so-flat stomach made me question that.

  “Okay, I guess I’ll have a taste,” I said, giving her the benefit of the doubt.

  I accepted a glass and took a swig before having to put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from violently retching. Gross. Health nuts could say whatever they wanted, but there was no way stuff like this tasted ‘incredible’. Unless they meant ‘incredibly bad’. It honestly tasted like I’d been drinking pond scum, and I handed the glass back to her.

  “Er…thanks for letting me try it, Layla.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Um. Not really. I think I prefer a nice malted milk smoothie with chocolate syrup,” I said with a grin.

  She pursed her lips and gazed down at my thighs, and then her upper lip curled in an almost imperceptible movement. “Hm. Yes, I can tell.”

  There it was again. She was definitely commenting on my body, and not exactly in a nice way, either. I mentally shrugged it off. She’d always been so nice to me, so I doubted she really meant any offense. While she’d still been acting in Hollywood, she’d probably become accustomed to people constantly saying things about her weight, so she likely thought it was normal to blatantly comment on other people’s bodies too.

  “Well, I guess I better get back upstairs,” I said, giving her a half-hearted smile.

  “Didn’t you say you wanted something to eat?”

  “No, I’m not really hungry all of a sudden,” I replied, and that was the truth. Whether she’d meant to insult me or not, her comment had made my hunger dissipate immediately.

  “You sure? I could have Emile whip you up some of his famous chia seed pudding when he gets back,” she said, arching a perfectly-waxed eyebrow.

  “Who’s Emile?” I asked. “And what’s a chia seed?”

  She laughed. “They’re really healthy. And Emile is…well, he’s everything. I guess you could call him a life coach. He helps me plan things and make decisions, cooks healthy food for me, works out with me…you know the drill.”

  “Oh, I see. Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll just wait for the party. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of food there.”

  “I forgot you and Mason were going out together tonight,” she said with a dazzling smile. “I’m so glad you two are little buddies now. Well, have fun.”

  Buddies. Ha. I nodded and headed back upstairs. I thought I may as well figure out what I was wearing to this stupid party, so I rifled through my clothes and pulled out a black and purple wrap dress I’d bought six months ago for a going-away shindig Tina had organized for an old work friend who’d left Leyton for greener pastures.

  Sliding into the dress, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet and looked myself over. My hips, ass and thighs weren’t that big. Sizable, sure, but wasn’t it fashionable these days to have
a bit of a booty? I decided the dress was fine and then relaxed on my bed for a few hours watching TV shows on the laptop Roy had kindly given me, and at around eight, there was a sharp rap on my door.

  “Come in!” I called out.

  Mason stepped in a second later, clutching a black garment bag.

  “What’s up?” I asked. “We’re not leaving already, are we? I thought all the good parties start late.”

  “They do. I came in to give you this. Totally blanked and forgot to tell you it’s a costume party.”

  He unzipped the garment bag to reveal a sexy nurse costume, and I snorted with laughter. “How stupid do you think I am? It’s not a costume party. And there’s no way I’m wearing that.”

  “It is,” he insisted.

  “Oh yeah, so where’s your costume?”

  He edged closer and threw the nurse outfit on the end of my bed. “It’s at my buddy’s house; the one who’s throwing the party. He bought it for me at the same time he bought his, so I’m getting changed when I get there. We’re gonna be pirates.”

  Well, he probably already had the syphilis to match being a pirate. I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes.

  “You expect me to believe that? I know what you’re doing. You’re pulling a Legally Blonde,” I said.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  “You know on that movie when they tell her it’s a costume party so she goes dressed as a bunny, and then it turns out no one else is dressed up?”

  “Never seen it,” he replied. “Sounds fucking stupid. Anyway, you gonna wear this or not?”

  “Hell no,” I said. “You’re just trying to embarrass me. I’m not an idiot.”

  He glared down at me. “Fine. If you wanna be the only person there not dressed up, then go ahead and wear that cheap-looking poly blend dress you’ve already got on. I was just trying to help you fit in, but you’ve made it clear that you don’t want to. Sorry for trying.”

 

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