Stepbrothers Stepping Out
With His Team
Delilah Devlin
Copyright © 2016 Delilah Devlin
Kindle Edition
When a college student changes her appearance and follows her brother and teammates to Spring Break in Mexico, she’s ready for adventure… It’s game on!
Note: This original 7600-word short story may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!
Check out more sexy stepbrother erotic romance:
Stepbrothers Stepping out: With His Friends
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Partner
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Boss
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Professor
For more short stories by Delilah Devlin, check out:
Big Brass Buckle
Catnip
Dr. Mullaley’s Cure
Dreaming by the Sea
Drive Me Crazy
Johnny Blaze
How to Train Your Skjaldmaer
Lily’s Last Stand
Love in Bloom
Night at the Wax Museum
Nip-n-Tuck
One Track Cowboy
Pitch Black
Red Dawn
Tailgating at the Cedar Inn
The Hired Hand
The Morning Ride
The Obedient Wife
The Only Game in Town
The Out-of-Towner
The Long Ride Home
The Pleasure in Surrender
The Runaway Bride
The Weekend
Two Hot
If you love vampires, werewolves, and things that go bump in the night, check out her NIGHT FALL series:
Silent Is the Knight
Sm{B}itten
Truly, Madly…Deadly
Knight in Transition
Wolf in Plain Sight
Knight Edition
Night Fall on Dark Mountain
And if you love Navy SEALs, be sure to read the excerpt at the end of this story!
From the Author
To those of you who’ve read me before—hello, friends! To new readers, welcome to my world!
As you’ll discover, I tend to bounce around in different genres, from contemporary to historical to paranormal to sci-fi—all are very sexy, so be warned. I also write in many lengths from short story to full-length novel. If you can’t tell, I love to write. And when a story is fast, it’s short. If my characters need more pages, well, you get the picture. I’m a slave to my muses (I have three—or so three different psychics have told me!).
I love hearing from readers and have a very active blog and Facebook friend page. I run contests, talk about my favorite TV shows, what I collect, what drives me crazy. I ramble a bit. I’m doing it right now. But if you’d like to learn more about me and what I’m doing or writing about, be sure to check out the “About Delilah Devlin” page after the story.
And if you enjoy this story, please consider leaving a review on your favorite retail site or simply tell a friend. Readers do influence other readers. We have to trust someone to tell us whether we’ll have fun when we open a new story!
Sincerely,
Delilah Devlin
Visit www.DelilahDevlin.com for more titles and release dates, and subscribe to Delilah’s newsletter at newsletter.
Table of Contents
Title Page
About the Book
From the Author
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Team
About Delilah Devlin
Excerpt from Dream of Me
Stepbrothers Stepping Out:
With His Team
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“Don’t go yet!” came a shout to my right—a moment before a dirty jock strap hit the side of my face.
I aimed at glare at the perpetrator—another of my brother’s roomies. Then my glance dropped to the hastily knotted towel surrounding his hips. “Seriously? Gross!”
Sam Kripsky waggled his tawny eyebrows. “Didn’t think you’d mind since you’re doing everyone else’s laundry.”
“That doesn’t mean I want a mouthful of your sweaty jockstrap. And I didn’t sign up to do everyone’s laundry, just Harry’s.”
He stuck his thumb under the edge of his towel then turned to head back into his room. “Give me a minute, I’ll bring the rest.”
Harry stepped beside me and gave my abused cheek a kiss. “Sis, you’re a gem. We’d be up shit creek without a paddle if you hadn’t offered. Our washing machine won’t be fixed until next week, and we have to pack. And it’s not like you have anything better to do. What’s a load of laundry when you take a break from studying?”
My back bristled at his wheedling tone. I was the team’s “kid sister”; the one they tolerated inside their house because I wasn’t someone they considered fuckable. They came to me with their dirty laundry, their holey socks, their need to vent about their girlfriends, because, hey, I was a girl—I understood how girls thought even if I wasn’t one of the pretty cheerleader types they pursued.
I narrowed my gaze, but forced a smile. It’s not like you have anything better to do. Harry was so going to eat his words. I shoved the heavy laundry basket against his chest. “The least you can do is carry it out for me.”
“Wait, Mary! Can you take my bag?” Karo Clark bounded down the stairs with a bag the shape of a boxer’s punching bag slung over his shoulder.
I gave Harry a stony stare. “I already have yours and Mal’s. Now Sam’s. Do I really have to do Karo’s too?”
He gave me a wink, took the basket, then jerked his chin toward Karo. “Follow me out to her car.”
I stood still in the middle of the living room of his frat house and stared after him. He had no clue how furious I was. Harry only saw me as his little sister—his homely, hopeless little sister—always accommodating and convenient when he needed something. He hadn’t even noticed I’d lost twenty-five pounds. Or that I’d been working out. To be fair, I still wore the same slouchy clothing—mostly sweats and baggy jeans. Was he ever going to be surprised…
I pushed my glasses up my nose and followed.
He was just closing the back hatch of my compact car. “Remember, we’ll need these back in time so we can pack for Spring Break.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek again. “See you Thursday.” He gave me a cheeky grin.
His friend Karo leaned down, gave me a peck and one of his cute, crooked smiles. Then they both left, laughing.
I fumed all the way back to my apartment.
A week later, I strode out onto the balcony of the Excelsior overlooking the beach at San Cabo. Still self-conscious about my body, I wore a gauzy pareo over my bikini. No one who knew me would recognize me now. After finishing the boys’ laundry, I’d rushed through a dizzying lineup of appointments on Friday. My hair was no longer mousy brown. It was auburn with strawberry blonde streaks, and it curled past my shoulders. My contacts felt scratchy still, but gone were the thick glasses. I was waxed and tanned and looked like every other hot sorority girl hanging out at the pool or catching rays on the beach. Only I didn’t have a sorority or even a friend to share my room. Which was fine with me. I had a plan. An agenda I’d carefully crafted.
Beginning with scoring this room adjacent to Harry’s room that he was sharing with his best friends. I knew their plans, down to the number of kegs they planned to bring in for their week-long party. And I knew just how long it would take once the partying started for them not to be too careful about who walked through their hotel room door. They’d never notice something familiar about one more skinny, shameless bikini-clad girl.
Just the thought of how I inte
nded to exact my revenge set my nipples tingling.
A whistle pierced the air to my right. Startled, I swung toward the sound. It was Sam, grinning at me from his balcony, his gaze trailing down and up the body the local gym’s fitness boot camp had honed.
He clutched his chest as his gaze lingered on my breasts. “Where have you been all my life?” he asked with a dazzling smile.
I forced myself to give him a come-hither smile—one I’d been practicing in front of the mirror for weeks—a sexy curve of my lips, not too much teeth. “Waiting for you, I guess,” I said, pitching my voice low.
I could see the effect I had on him. His pupils dilated, his nostrils flared. His eyelids dipped, and he tipped his head toward his open balcony door. “We’re having a party later. Wanna come?”
Oh, I would. And not just with him. So far, he hadn’t recognized me. Maybe I’d actually get away with this. “I’d love to.” I turned and settled my elbows on the balcony rail, making sure my breasts rose, drawing his attention. “When should I knock?”
He groaned then gave a little laugh. “As soon as you hear the music. We’re going to get loud.”
“Sounds…perfect. Will the party be crowded?”
“In the living area. But we have three bedrooms—in case you’d like to get away from the crush.”
I gave him another sexy smile then straightened my arms and tilted back my head. “I’ll see you later…” I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m…Muriel.”
“Sam…” he said, then shook his head. “Damn, girl.” Again, his gaze tracked down my body.
“Later.” Straightening, I wiggled my fingers and walked back into my room.
Then I closed the door and the curtain and took a deep breath. Holy shit. He hadn’t recognized me. And once the party started and all four of the boys were wearing their beer-goggles, the chance of getting away with this was even better. I laughed, feeling a rush of adrenaline spark through my veins. I had a few hours to kill and more confidence to build. I grabbed my sunglasses and headed out of my room. The beach would be a good place to practice.
I’d worked up the courage to remove my pareo. I held it in my hand, letting it billow behind me as I walked in the sand, close enough to the water the waves lapped at my feet. The sun beat down, warming my skin, flushing my face, and I felt glorious. Free. My bikini-clad body drew stares and a quite a few whistles. The breasts that had been the bane of my teenage years, because in my old clothing and doughy body I’d looked dumpy, were now an asset that drew every male gaze as I walked.
I ignored the catcalls and whistles, simply drinking up the approval, fortifying my confidence as I thought about what could transpire later that day.
I’d be at a kegger—one of the women my brother and his friends would surround. Not simply there to serve the beer this time or to clean up the mess afterward. I’d be included. In the mix. Desired.
Only the more I thought about it, the more a niggling of worry crept into my mind. Would revenge really be all that sweet? Yes, it would be nice to be desired, to be found worthy of their attention, but if I let one of them have me, how would I feel afterward? I wasn’t an easy lay. Hadn’t had a boyfriend I’d let do more than feel me up since high school—and only then, because I’d been completely frustrated by how asexual my brother and his friends made me feel. The experience had left me feeling empty.
And if I were honest with myself, I wanted only one of them. My brother Harry. The last one I should be thinking of. After all, he was my brother. Sort of.
Yes, he used me and took me for granted. But there were moments when his gaze would settle on me, a hint of hunger in his eyes, and I’d melt. Just like every other girl who came within his radius. Now, I wanted to know what it felt like to have that hunger unleashed.
He’d been the object of my teenage fantasies from the minute our parents had introduced us. A grade ahead of me, I’d followed him through high school, always looked on with pity because I wasn’t as pretty as he was handsome, and I didn’t possess an ounce of his charm.
I’d watched him go through girlfriends the way most people went through socks—using them until they were worn out. However, those brief flings had provided quite an education.
Girls arrived the minute my parents left the house on date night. They headed straight to the game room downstairs. Amid the pool table and exercise equipment, my brother and his many hot squeezes made good use of the furniture—the sofa, the plush rug…the ottoman. Christ, I’d eye that ottoman with envy during family movie nights.
Once, Harry had caught me staring at it, and he’d grinned—one of those looks he gave his girls when he’d finally managed to get them down to their underwear. Had he known I had a hiding place where I watched his hookups?
Thinking back, he must have. He always managed to have their bodies angled just right so that I could watch his long, thick cock from the side as he thrust.
Heat filled my core, made my hips sway. My nipples peaked against the small triangles covering my breasts. And Jesus, my crotch was getting wet. I eyed the water, then decided ruining my makeup was better than having anyone notice a damp spot growing between my legs.
I held up the pareo to keep it from dipping into the water and waded in.
“Hey…Muriel?”
Harry’s voice. Behind me. I was waist deep in the water, and the cooler temperature was doing little to reduce my swelling sex. I pasted on my fake smile and glanced over my shoulder. “Do I know you?”
Harry’s easy smile, directed at me, made my heart flutter then quicken. I gave his body a glance, something I would have had to work hard to hide if I was just “Mary”. His hands went to his hips, and he held still while I eyed him. The thickness at the front of his crotch twitched.
I glanced quickly upward and caught his narrowed gaze, a second before it cleared and his easy smile stretched. “Sam said to look for a pretty redhead in a purpley-pink bikini.”
“It’s orchid. Pink would have looked hideous with my hair.” I tossed back my hair to draw his attention to it so he wouldn’t study my face more closely. My makeup was good. So were the colored contacts. Nothing of “Mary” should be there for him to note.
His head cocked to the side. “You sure we haven’t met before?”
My heart pounded harder in my chest. “That a line you use with all the girls?” I asked, keeping my voice husky.
He chuckled. “Sometimes. So, what school are you from?”
“University of Arkansas.”
He nodded. “I considered the Razorbacks, but their football program isn’t what it used to be. I’m at UT in Austin.”
I nodded. So far, so good.
His gaze went to my hand. “You need to dump that before you swim?” He angled his head toward a strip of beach where a towel and small cooler sat. “I’ll put it under my cooler. No chance it’ll float away.”
In his roundabout way, he was asking me to swim with him. I stepped toward him, just to make sure he had a good look at my well-toned belly and thighs. He’d already ogled the hell out of my breasts. And I didn’t want him looking too closely at my face. This close, I could feel the heat emanating from his skin. My next breath was deeper, pulling in his scent—male musk, a touch of coconut from his tanning lotion. Delicious enough to eat.
I pulled my mind away from that fantasy. Don’t let him know you’re interested this quickly, I warned myself. This was supposed to be a seduction. And I wanted him to realize I was the one doing the seducing. Control and power play in sexual relations were some things I’d been reading about in preparation for this week. Not that I really understood anything about it—not deeply. But I liked the concepts, the words.
I wanted control. At least, over myself. Guiding him to give me what I wanted would just be an added bonus, like dessert after vegetables.
I wrinkled my nose at that thought. My mind was wandering. “You want to swim? I don’t have a clip. My hair…”
He slowly unthreaded the cord at the waistba
nd of his swimming trunks. Then he held up his fingers and circled them, indicating I should turn away.
I did. So much for who was in control now. But I didn’t mind. I liked the way he gently drew up my hair and tied it in a ponytail. His fingers glanced across my shoulders, down my back, then pulled away. I turned again and faced him.
“That do the trick?” he asked, his voice husky now.
“Beautifully,” I said, feeling as though a dust ball was caught in my throat my voice was so raspy.
His quick, quirking grin said how well he understood his effect on me.
I lifted my chin. “Not too deep. I’m a little afraid of the fishes.” And of washing away my makeup.
“Afraid of sharks?”
Afraid of you. “The statistics are in our favor.”
His eyebrow arched.
And I realized that was a typical Mary-blurt. I pushed closer, letting my breasts graze his chest. Anything to distract him from what I’d said. “Ready to get wet?”
His gaze narrowed, and he shook his head. “You are dangerous.”
I laughed, making sure I kept the sound deeper than my true laugh. “You don’t seem afraid.”
His gaze darted downward. Mine followed. His cock was stirring, beginning to push against the front of his trunks. “I need to cool off.” He turned and ran for the water.
I watched as he dove into an incoming wave. Wow. Just wow. I’d made him hard.
The loud thumping coming through the walls had been going on for an hour. It was nearly time to put my plan into action.
I applied aloe to my burned shoulders, then eased my body into a tight mini-dress. Because of the thin straps at my shoulders, I’d decided to forego wearing a bra. The dress had a built-in shelf-bra, but it provided little support. Not that I needed it. My breasts were heavy, but the snugness of the bodice held them up. Beneath the skirt, I wore a tiny pair of white lace bikini panties. On my feet were a pair of strappy gold sandals. Turning in front of the mirror, I couldn’t believe that was me looking back. Slim and confident. Cute. I made a mental note to call my hair stylist to be sure to schedule touchups. The color suited the new me. The green contacts lent my face a catlike expression.
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