by Amy Brent
Second Chance with Stepbrother
Chapter 1
Sam
Jordan pulls the tight black shirt she threw at me down. My cleavage spills out, and she smiles at herself in a satisfactory manner.
"Perfect. Now you are looking hot as hell, Sam" she says turning her head, so it touches her shoulder. She, Carly, and I are all wearing practically the same thing - a tight black shirt, and a pair of jeans with boots. The only real difference is our shoes and our jackets are very different. Mine’s just a jean jacket. It isn't anything too special. Jordan flips her long brown hair over her shoulder.
"You're totally going to get laid tonight, bitch!" she laughs hitting my shoulder playfully.
"Doubt it," I say back to her shaking my head.
"Hey! Be confident," Carly rocks on heels that are freakishly tall and to me, look like a straight nightmare to try and manage walking in. "You have a killer bod, and look at that smokey eye."
I glance back in the mirror, my makeup does look decent, but only because Carly did it. She isn't in college with Jordan and I. She's going to cosmetology school, and is up for the weekend to stay and go out. We were all lucky enough to go to high school together and remain friends through all the years. Jordan is the one who manages to snag all the men and win their hearts. They are drawn to her like magnets are to metal, like they cannot resist her right from the moment she walks in. Carly and I are just two pieces to hold her up as she grazes through the bar picking the best meat. This is the reason why she wants to go out almost every night. But not me. I just recently ended a three-year relationship. Well - I should say it was kind of mutual.
Yep, Micah Jones is a complete asshole. The only good thing about our relationship was the sex, and that honestly wasn't even that good. So here I am, going out to try and find another man to get my hopes up on and then get ghosted over. It was Jordan's idea to drag me out like I am her pet project. I don't mind though, I need the help. This being single thing is a whole new territory for me.
"Well, should we head out ladies?"
Carly smiles approvingly, and I roll my eyes. I want to say no. But it’s our last semester of college and I have been flaking out on them so much. I figure I can grin and bear it one last time. Part of me cannot help but feel a little hopeful for finding someone. We pile into the cab. Carly and Jordan are obviously enjoying themselves, but my stomach is turning, my nerves are rising, and I think I could be sick. I keep imagining that I might run into Micah. There is only one good bar on campus, and it is always packed. I glance out the window. Jordan senses my apprehension. She rests a slender hand on my forearm.
"Girl, chica. You know if Micah is there we will leave right away."
I close my eyes and tilt my head back.
"Sam, you look so good. He probably won't even want to talk to you. He will just want to go like sit in the corner and cry," Carly adds on, boosting me up.
I laugh at that.
"I hope so; I hate that fucking pig."
It's not true. I don't hate him. It's been six months since we broke up. It seems like forever ago. There was one time we hooked up last month. I went over to his house and sat on his dick, hoping that maybe I could change his mind about ending things. He just flipped me around and asked to do anal. I left feeling like complete shit. That's the last time that I got laid and Jordan is convinced to wave a magic wand and bless me with a large cock inside of me tonight. I wish she actually had that superpower. It would be really convenient.
Inside the club, Dave's, the music is loud and they are playing some old rock and roll song mixed with techno. It sounds absurd, but there are still people dancing and grinding on one another. Their hips press into each other as they rotate back and forth. Sweat drops down off their bodies and skin as they rub against each other in a drunken phase. Its dark in the bar and that makes people feel safe, but the colorful strobe lights cast harsh light onto their faces for a split second. Carly grabs my wrist and pulls me to the bar.
"Three jagerbombs," Jordan says, sliding her debit card across the bar counter. The large male takes it. He is pretty hot, with dark round eyes and teeth that are super white. He has a unique look for our college. He makes the drinks, and when he hands them to Jordan, he tells her not to worry about the bill. He took care of it. Jordan giggles like she finds him cute. I feel bad for the guy. Jordan hasn't bought a single drink all semester. We take the red bull, jager concoction down in one slurp. It definitely isn't something I am proud for, but I will need the shot if I plan on surviving this night. My eyes scan for Micah, but I just see waves of more students leaking in. I relax a little. Jordan shoves a vodka cranberry into my hand.
"Here!" she shouts in my ear.
"Thanks," I say, lifting it up to cheer. Our glasses clink together, as they come together.
"Let's go dance!" Carly shouts over both of us. I would much rather stay in the corner of the bar in a booth and sip on my drink. Safe in the corner where no ex can come creeping along behind me. But we have no choice. Carly darts through a wall of frat boys who part like the red scene as Jordan walks through them. Their eyes scan over her perfect, round ass. They don't even see me. I am just her shadow. Carly slides into a small pocket of air and starts flipping her hips side to side. It doesn't take long until a guy appears behind her. His hands rest on her hips and they start dancing. She is already drunk and starts to laugh. Jordan leans over into my ear.
"That's the dude - from her calc class. The one she was talking about early!"
"Nice," I say bobbing up and down, focusing more on my drink than anything. The night continues. Carly leaves the bar with her calc man. She promises to text us both when she gets home. Jordan continues to fight off the waves of men that go after her. She keeps looking at me. She doesn't want to feel guilty for leaving me - the poor pathetic friend, sulking over the ex. It only makes me feels bad she has to pity me. I should have just stayed at home. I am starting to think that their bringing me out was a pity invite, especially when the hunk of a bartender from early waltzes over and whispers something into Jordan's ear. He must be off the clock now. Jordan looks at me with a sad expression.
"Go dance with him!" I shout over the pulsing music. She mouths “are you sure,” and I nod my head. The bartender slides an arm around my friend's thin waist and they disappear into the crowd. Now, at least I can step off the dance floor. My feet are starting to kill. My phone vibrates in my pocket. It's Jordan telling me she will find me in "like thirty minutes." I shake my head. Whatever that means. I text her back okay and am surprised to find an empty booth. It's the back so no one really wants to sit here unless they are loners, which I am. So, this works out perfectly.
I stare at my phone for a while, trying to look like I am supposed to be waiting for someone in case anyone sees me and wonders what I am doing. I try to tell myself that no one here is sober enough to care about what you look like. I chew on my lip. I should probably just go home. I am in a vulnerable enough position that Micah could just come through the door and catch me alone. I'm buzzed enough to entertain the idea of speaking with him at least, and the last bits of my logical thinking brain is trying to push that all out. I decide to leave. I can see Jordan and the bartender are sucking face in the back of the bar behind the door, and Carly is long gone. I stand up slowly. I wish I wasn't letting this pity party wear me down, but it seems like a lost cause. The alcohol makes me feel sad, and I don’t know why. I walk through the club and crowd of people, when suddenly an elbow flies out in front of me, close lining me.
I tumble backward and land on my ass.
"Oh my god. I am so sorry."
A handsome face emerges from the crowd. He scoops me up fast lifting me off the ground. "Are you okay?" I take a minute to regather myself but he continues talking. "I was waving to my friend. Jesus - I didn't even see you." I shake my head.
"I'm fine. It's okay."
"Here," he reaches an arm around me. "Let's go outside and get you some fresh air."
> "I'm fine really. I was going to leave anyway."
"I can buy you the cab. You took a pretty hard hit down."
I know this is no point in trying to get him off my back. He seems so adamant. I smile half-heartedly. "Okay."
He stands in front of me pushing people to the side. He is so tall, they all move without question. I think it’s a bit much, but I don't fight it. We make it to the exit and slide out through the door.
In the street light, low and heavy, I can see his face, and God, is he hot! He has a square jaw and a slightly crooked nose. His eyes are a dark brown, but his hair is a sandy light color. He looks at me and smiles, and I can't help but smile back. I think he might be a male model like for one of those rugged sportswear magazines or commercials with the guy hiking by himself through the woods, holding an ax.
"You sure you are okay?" he asks, nervously. He leans down to be eye level with me. He is acting like I have a concussion.
I nod.
"I've been hit way worse."
He reaches out a long arm. I can see the veins on his forearm from an intense gym routine.
"James," he says.
"Samantha," I say back taking his hand. "But everyone calls me Sam." My heart races; his hands are slightly calloused, but they make my skin tingle.
"So, Sam..."
My heart flutters a little when he says my name. What is going on with me? "Are you sure you want to call it quits on tonight."
I cock my head. I could say yes, leave, go home and probably cry as I feel bad for myself. Or - I could say fuck it and risk one night with this beautiful angel.
"I'm not sure."
"Let me buy you a drink. I feel horrible for hitting you and you are sexy as fuck - I mean...I'm sorry. I'm kind of drunk. You are absolutely stunning."
I smile.
"Okay...I'll let you buy me a drink."
"Not here though. I know a much better place."
"Do you really?" I ask shocked.
"Oh yeah. Just trust me."
"Okay," I say with a laugh. "It goes against everything that I believe in to trust a stranger." He leans down and kisses me fast. My heart almost drops. His lips are so soft and warm. I lean for more, but he pulls back with a smirk.
"What was that for?" I ask, breathily, totally taken aback. My heart is racing in my ears. He smiles, an enchanting, charming smile.
"So we aren't strangers anymore."
I blush, my cheeks are bright red. I hope he doesn't notice.
We walk down the sidewalk together in a slightly drunk phase, laughing and joking. I can't believe a strange guy that hit me right in the face makes me feel like we've known each other for years.
We stop in front of a dark building.
"What is this place?" I ask.
"Come on." He takes my hand, and I freeze.
"Everything okay?"
"You aren't some rapist or something?"
He laughs.
"No...but are you?"
"No," I shake my head.
"Okay good. I was a little nervous."
I let out a loud belly laugh. He leads me into a small bar. Its full but there's still room to move and breathe. A live rock band is set up on a makeshift stage, playing some music. James walks up to the bar and orders us drinks.
"This place is cool," I say as he leads us to a small table.
"Yeah - it is where all the grads kids go. Less rowdy for sure."
I smile.
"You seem to be pretty rowdy for me."
He laughs.
"Well, I figured no one would knock you down here."
We hold each other's gaze a little bit longer than normal. I feel a swirl of butterflies in my stomach, and I feel warm. I bite my lip and he leans in to kiss me, this time it is long and slow. I suddenly freeze. Am I making the right choice?
"What?" he asks. "Wait – no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't."
He leans back, but then something snaps as if my brain turns on. I lunge forward in the seat and kiss him. Our lips meet once more, and he tastes like the bourbon that he is drinking. His mouth opens and his tongue slides between my lips.
"Mmm," he hums. "You taste good."
I pull my head back. My body feels like it has awakened. It has been so long since a kiss has felt so electric, making my pussy scream out as if warm liquid leaked into my stomach and down into it. James looks at me his eyes hold mine for a long time. It's almost like he has hypnotized me with them. No random guy from the bar has ever made me feel so turned on. I know I want him now, but part of me is nagging in the back of my head telling me that one night stands are a bad idea. I have never had a good one. He gently tucks my hair behind my ear.
"I usually never say this...and I know I shouldn't, but do you want to go back to my place?" The question lingers in the air for a moment. My whole body once depressed suddenly feels alive and ready. It is screaming yes, but it is currently fighting my brain. "But no pressure, or anything...I don't want you to think that I'm like that -"
"Yes," I hear myself say out loud. He smiles and his hand brushes against my shoulder.
"Well, then - let's get out of here."
We topple into a taxi waiting outside of the bar. I lean against his arm in the car. His hand rests on my thigh. I ache to have his fingers crawl up toward my center, but he is being gentle. I mean we did just meet. I feel like laughing like a school girl suddenly. Here, I am on my way to a stranger's house, but it doesn't feel like that at all. There is something so unique about him.
" I - uh - I apologize about the mess. You know - roommates and stuff."
"Don't worry about it."
"You don't seem like the average girl," he says suddenly. I lift my head up. The taxi hits a bump on the road and our heads bounce with the motion.
"What do you mean - the average girl?" I ask.
"You just...seem better..."
He leans down and kisses me again. The warmth builds even more. God, am I getting wet just from kissing this guy. Either it has been a very long time since I have gotten any action or this guy is that good.
“I mean he is like the hottest guy I have seen on campus, but you are pretty drunk Samantha,” I remind myself.
I focus on his face one more time to double check my drunk goggles aren't too thick. No - still fucking hot.
The taxi stops outside of a college home. The school flag waves on the front porch. I suddenly become nervous. What if his roommates see me? Will they think I am some slut? But the drunk part of my brain barges in and says fuck it, who cares. He steps outside after paying the cab and opens the door. I climb out fast and we walk up the porch. He stops before putting the key in.
"So I guess this is when I kill you?" He winks. I slap his hard muscular chest.
"Shut up," I squeal.
"The only thing that is going to take a hit is my pussy."
He looks at me and his eyes widen.
"I thought you were coming over for tea and scrabble?!" he says sarcastically. I throw my head and let out a loud belly laugh. He continues, sweeping his large arm underneath me and scooping me up. "But I think I can make other arrangements."
"Please," I say.
He carries me up the stairs in the quiet, dark unfamiliar home, and up to his bedroom. He sets me down in the doorway. I'm glad for the alcohol or else I would be very awkward and nervous. Instead, an animalistic desire burns into me, and I grab him. My mouth finds him and moves into his desperately. He wraps his arms around me. With one kick, he shuts the bedroom door. I'm grateful his mouth is so foreign to my ex's. His stubbles rub against my chin as his tongue dips into my mouth. His lips travel down my neck and to my shirt where my cleavage spills out. He sucks on my soft skin and I whimper. I can feel his cock pressing into his pants. I cannot believe this is happening I repeat over and over in my head. I cannot believe this happening and I want more. I sense the hesitation of his hands. They stay close to my hips. I arch my back forward so he understands he can do anything to me. He slams me down onto t
he bed, our hips grind into each other, dry humping each other. I eagerly tug at the bottom of his shirt excited for what it covers. It's too dark for me to see, but I run my fingers along a chiseled six pack and wide hard chest. I don't think James is real, or maybe I am just really drunk.
He goes for my shirt now, pulling it up and over my head. I let out a sigh as his hands reach expertly underneath my back and unclasp my bra. My breasts spill out and his mouth finds them, lapping at them. My hips seize up and push deeper against his crotch. I need these pants off of me. I struggle for my zipper and he helps pull them down off my legs, right along with my underwear. Now, I am completely naked and the cool air hits against my sopping wet pussy. He undoes his belt, so his pants and boxers come off, revealing a large, throbbing dick. It is much bigger than Micah's. He leans into his nightstand and pulls out a condom. He eases the rubber sheath over his shaft. We both are panting excitedly. We are getting straight to the point. Usually, I need time to wake everything up, but not with James. My body only needed a few kisses from this guy and it is ready to go. James grabs a hold of his raging piece and guides it into mine. I let out a low moan of pure euphoria as he stretches my pussy, pushing into it. His hips rock back and forth as he slowly enters me. A sensation that I have never felt before takes control of my body. No one has ever made my pussy feel this amazing, just by being inside of me.