Buoyed by a sudden impulse, I bent forward and gently kissed him on the forehead. “Good night, Mason Keller,” I whispered softly.
He continued to snore unabated, and after a moment of staring at his handsome face, I went into my small bedroom, undressed, garbed myself in pajamas, and got into bed.
I laid there, waiting for sleep to take me, but it never would. My mind was on Mason, and the fact that he was in the next room over. His body looked like it was etched in stone, and I’d love to run my tongue over each and every inch of it.
I visualized what it would feel like having his powerful hands touch me and caress my curves, going down below until he . . .
Sighing softly, I slid my hands down my stomach and under the lap band of my damp panties. I was just about to touch myself when I paused.
What am I doing?
I wasn’t much of a fan of masturbation, I always felt guilty afterward, but sometimes I couldn’t help myself and desperately needed to relieve tension. Like now.
I’d be working closely with Mason for the next however long. The sexual tension inside me was was just going to continue to grow.
I might have to do this nightly, I thought.
I started rubbing myself in a circular motion, thinking about how it would feel to have my long-lost stepbrother touch me.
“Oh Mason,” I moaned softly, knowing that after I relieved this particular itch, I’d be able to face him without wanting to jump his bones every other second. Or so I hoped.
Chapter 6
Carly - College Years
“Can you go see what’s keeping Mason?” my mother asked, walking into the dining room from the kitchen with a large tray in her hands. “We’re about to sit down with the Gardeners for dinner and I don’t want him walking in after we’ve started serving the food.”
I stopped setting dining table and scowled. “Seriously? It’s my first weekend back home, and your back to sending me to fetch Mason? Sheesh, mom. Mason’s a grown man. I’m not, and never have been, his keeper. He’ll show up when he wants to.”
And he definitely doesn’t care what neighbors you have over or who you’re trying impress, I thought. Mason does what he wants to do.
Mason, who was a few years older than me, was almost done with his master’s degree in web communications — while I was just getting started with my major in journalism at a nearby university.
When he first started college, I would only see him on weekends every now and then. He’d spend a lot of his time with me, surprisingly, giving me tips for college and instilling me with confidence for success.
I cherished those times, and hated when he had to head back to school.
But once I started college, I stopped seeing him at all. It always seemed we had conflicting schedules.
It was difficult at first, adjusting to never seeing him. What made it worse was that I found myself always daydreaming about being with him and wondering what he was up to when I should’ve been engrossed in my studies.
After a while, I got frustrated with my infatuation with him. What was the point of fantasizing about him if it could never be?
I’d go on to be a successful journalist, hopefully, and despite being the most intelligent person I know, he would probably end up slaving at some well-paying job. All the while half of his check going out as child support to the number of girls he’d gotten pregnant.
I really hoped that wasn’t how his life would end up, but he hadn’t given me cause to think otherwise.
Rumor was that he was gifted in both size and skill, and women were lined up to find out if it were true or not. I had to admit, if I wasn’t his stepsister, I’d probably have been in that line right with them.
When eventually I was forced to hear the sounds of sex from his room, I’d had enough, and confronted him about it.
“Why are you being such a manwhore?” I demanded, standing in his doorway with my hands on my hips. One of his little whores had just left giggling and bragging on her cell phone about the ‘amazing sex’ she had and it was all I could do to keep from cussing her bubbly air-headed ass out. “Don’t you know you can catch an STD from one of those skanks?”
Mason, who was shirtless, shrugged and walked over to sit down at his computer desk. “Don’t worry, Carly. I’m not stupid. I always use protection.”
I scowled. “Really? That’s your response?”
“What else do you expect me to say?”
“I hate you!” I hissed with venom. “I hate that you do it. Especially when you don’t have to.” Most of all, I hated how I cared so much. I just didn’t understand, why couldn’t Mason be with just one girl?
What am I more upset at? I wondered. That Mason is using them . . . or that he’s not using me?
He stared at me for a long time before he answered. There was something intense in his gaze when he looked at me, I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. “A man has his needs.”
“I have needs too,” I said tartly, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go around fucking every dick and tom in the neighborhood.”
Suddenly, Mason’s face twisted into a mask of pure fury. “I wouldn’t allow you even if that’s what you wanted to do,” he growled.
I took a step back, unprepared for the rage I saw in his eyes. “Excuse me?”
Mason rose from his seat and walked over to me. “There’s no way I would let any of the douchebags around here lay a finger on you.”
I crossed my arms and scowled at him. “You couldn’t stop me.”
He stepped closer and the heat of his body suddenly enveloped me. “Yes,” he snarled. “I could. I wouldn’t let you turn into a slut.” His expression softened and he brought a hand up to gently stroke my cheek. “You’re too good for that.”
The caress of his hand nearly made me swoon, but besides that, I was flabbergasted. Mason was telling me he could fuck whom he wanted, but I was too good to do the same?
“You’re going to do great things with your life,” he continued. “Don’t ever give yourself away to anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”
“And what exactly makes you think I haven’t already?” I asked. The truth was, I hadn’t, but I could if I wanted. There were plenty of guys who were attracted to me, but the truth was, I couldn’t get over my crush of Mason to even think about it.
“Because I know,” Mason replied, continuing to stroke my cheek, “besides, one day . . .”
His voice trailed off and he looked me in the eyes. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like they were watery.
I must be imagining things, I thought. Mason never cries.
“One day what?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
Mason dropped his hand from my cheek and turned away from me. “Nothing.”
He walked over to his computer and sat down. “You can go now. I have shit to do.”
Mom set the pot roast she was holding down in the middle of the table and placed her hands on her hips. “Why do you always have to be so difficult?” she demanded, breaking me out of my reverie.
I nearly gagged. Me? Difficult? What planet was my mother on? “I’m not being difficult, Mother,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m just standing up for myself.” Besides, I was doing my best to avoid Mason. Out of sight, out of mind. That was my motto, and that’s how I planned to get over my crush.
I just hope seeing him today doesn’t send me back into a tailspin, I thought.
“I asked you to go see what was keeping him. What does that have to do with standing up for yourself?” Mom demanded.
Ugh. “Mason can do what he wants, Mom. I’m just here to enjoy myself, not play messenger for you.”
I sighed. She really wasn’t going to stop until I’d done as she asked.
“Melissa is doing great in her studies,” said Hugh Gardener as he walked into the dining room with his wife and Brian trailing him. “So good that she thinks she’ll finish a semester sooner than she thought.”
“Oh really?” asked Br
ian as he came around to the head of the table. It never ceased to amaze me how much Mason looked like his father. Brian could be mistaken for his older brother if not for the gray streaks in his hair and the wrinkles around his eyes. “That’s wonderful. I think the same thing will happen for Carly with her journalism pursuit. She’s such a hard worker.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Hugh said, pulling out a chair on the left side of the table and sitting down. “She’s always been a very driven young lady. I’m sure she’ll make a great journalist.” He beamed at me.
“Thank you, Mr. Gardener,” I said politely.
“Oh hi, Carly,” Anne Gardener said as if it was her first time seeing me that day, grabbing a seat next to her husband. “How have you been, dear?”
I flashed a fake smile. “Fine,” I replied. “Just setting the table for Mom.”
“Such a good girl,” Anne complimented.
My fake smile widened.
My mom beamed at our guests, giving no hint that she’d just been bitching at me just a few seconds earlier. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Thank God,” Hugh said, rubbing his stomach. “I haven’t eaten all afternoon.” He frowned. “Where’s Melissa?”
“I think she said she had to use the bathroom, dear,” Anne replied.
Anne flashed a smile at my mom. “You’ll have to forgive him, he forgets things sometimes.”
“Now, now Anne,” Hugh said. “Don’t’ go spreading rumors.”
Anne playfully tapped her husband on the arm. “You know I’m just playing.”
Hugh grunted noncommittally. “Right.”
“Carly, can you go up and see what’s keeping Mason?” asked Brian. Though he tried to hide it, I could hear the anger in his voice. Mason, with his cocky attitude and massive ego, always made sure he was the last to arrive. “I told him to be down here by now.”
I bit my tongue. I usually had the temerity to defy mom, but I often did as Brian said, especially now since he was paying my tuition.
“Okay,” I said cheerily, flashing another fake smile at the Gardeners. “Be right back!”
As I walked out of the dining room and into the hall, mom had to get the last word in.
“You should’ve done it already,” she hissed under her breath as I passed her.
I kept walking right on by, and even managed to keep the fake smile on my face. But as soon as I hit the stairs, my grin morphed into a scowl.
I should’ve never even came, I thought sourly. Then I wouldn’t have to be subjected to this crap.
“Mason!” I called as I reached the top of the stairs. “It’s dinner time.”
Of course I received no response.
“Mason!” I called again, moving toward his room.
When I reached his door, I was about to knock when I heard music and the sound of . . . creaking wood?
I slowly turned the knob, surprised that it was unlocked, and swung the door open.
A gasp escaped my lips. Chiseled ass, strong muscular thighs, powerful hands squeezing breasts. And Thrusting. Lots of thrusting.
“Fuck me!” Melissa cried softly as Mason pounded her from behind, her head bobbing forward with each thrust.
A torrent of emotions rolled through my body as I gaped in shock at the sight before me.
Lust. Anger. Pain.
“You piece of shit!” I yelled, my limbs suddenly shaking uncontrollably.
I knew that Mason was a whore, but to actually see it with my own two eyes filled me with rage.
He didn’t even miss a thrust as his gaze whipped around on me. I expected him to yell at me to get out, but instead he continued to pound away, gazing at me with that cocky grin of his.
His eyes seemed to say to me, “Yeah, you like it don’t you? You wish it were you.”
Or maybe it was just my subconscious mind saying that.
Melissa, it seemed, was too overwhelmed by pleasure to notice me, her teeth clamped down on one of Mason’s pillows as he railed her.
He started pounding her harder, swiveling his hips, as if to show off, all while looking right at me, the sounds of smacking flesh filling my ears.
It was more than I could take. Gasping for air, I turned and ran from the room.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, I told myself as I raced down the hall and stopped at the staircase. My chest heaving, I struggled to quell the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. Don’t let it bother you. You always knew he was like that.
It wasn’t like he was doing anything he hadn’t done a million times before. I just didn’t have to witness it before. I knew should’ve never came home!
I calmed myself as best I could and descended the stairs. By the time I reached the dining room, I was almost entirely composed. I even managed to put my fraudulent smile back on.
Mom looked at me like I was from Mars as I sank into my seat. “Well?”
I played stupid. “Well, what?”
Murder flashed in her eyes. “I heard you yelling from down here. Where’s Mason?”
I smiled at her so hard my face felt like it was going to crack. “Upstairs.”
She scowled, gripping her butter knife so tightly that she probably left an imprint in her palm. “Well, why isn’t he here?”
I shrugged. “Depends.”
Mom went red in the face and I swear if the Gardeners weren’t there, she would’ve leaped across the table and put the knife to my throat. She loved to put on a front, and for it to look like she didn’t have her house in order, she wouldn’t stand for it.
Gritting her teeth, she asked, “On what?”
I glanced at the Gardeners, who seemed to be hanging onto my every word. For a moment, I pondered holding back. I could just say nothing and let my mother fume silently until Mason and his newest conquest undoubtedly showed up with no one the wiser.
But I was angry. Okay — I was fucking enraged. Why should I cover for him? At this point, I didn’t care, and I’d be happy if someone else could share in the rage that I was feeling inside.
“As soon as he can pull his dick out of Melissa,” I said cheerily. “Don’t worry, at the pace he was going, it shouldn’t be too long.”
The room went eerily silent for several moments.
Anne was the one to break the silence.
“What did you just say, young lady?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I grabbed a nearby carrot and bit into it heartily. “Your supposed goody-two-shoes daughter. She’s up there bent over my asshole stepbrother’s bed. I believe the last words I heard her say when I left them was, fuck me Mason!” I really shouldn’t have been saying that, but my mind wasn’t right.
Anne’s face twisted in outrage, while Hugh’s eyes went wide in shock. “How dare you!”
“Carly Belle Washington,” my mother growled, her face an unhealthy shade of purple. “You apologize right this instant—”
“Sorry we’re late,” said Mason as he walked into the room with Melissa in tow. Besides the tussled hair, neither one of them gave off any indications that they’d just been fucking like rabbits. Melissa did have a huge smile on her face, though. Bitch.
“Melissa!” Anne said sharply.
“Hey, Mom.” Melissa grabbed a seat next to me. The nerve of her.
“Where were you?”
“Using the bathroom, like I said.”
Anne glanced at me. “Carly said you were upstairs with Mason.”
Melissa paused, her eyes briefly settling on me and then back on her mother. “I was. Mason was showing me his room.”
“Carly said you were up to more than that,” Hugh blurted. The man looked very angry. Apparently, he was having doubts about his darling daughter’s chastity.
“Okay now, we’re getting a little bit ahead of ourselves,” Brian broke in with a nervous chuckle. “It’s obvious that Carly was just playing around and I’m sure she’s ready to admit that before things get out of hand.”
Mason didn’t wait for me to reply
. “Carly is telling the truth,” he broke in. Mason turned his gaze on me and I gaped at him with shock.
Why did he do that?
“Mason!” Brian snarled with warning.
But the damage was already done.
The Gardeners stood up abruptly. “We’re leaving!” Anne snapped.
“But —”
“Now!” Anne roared. Sullenly, Melissa rose from her seat and walked over to her mother’s side.
Mom was quick to react, getting out of her seat and going over to block the path of the fuming neighbors. “Wait Anne, please, this all some sort of big misunderstanding—“
“Out of my way!” Anne growled, sidestepping her and dragging Melissa along like a rag doll out of the dining room. “Your son is a disgrace!”
I could hear them arguing in the hallway as Hugh paused to address Brian before he left the room.
“You know that deal we were going to cut for that property next month?” Hugh asked. “It’s done!” Hugh swiped both hands out to the side in a cutting motion. “Finished!” Snarling in disgust, he stormed out of the room, yelling behind him, “I’ll never do business with you again, asshole!”
A second later the front door slammed.
“God damn it!” Brian roared, slamming his fists down on the table and knocking over several wine glasses. His face was red with rage and the veins were standing out on his neck. “I worked for months on that fucking deal!”
Mom glared at me balefully. “You see what you’ve done? You should’ve kept your mouth closed!”
I gaped with shock. Mother was insane. I wasn’t the one fucking the neighbor while we were supposed to have dinner. I didn’t even want to go up there! “Me?” I rasped. “How is it my fault?” I pointed at Mason. “It’s his fault!”
“So? You didn’t have to tell them that!” Mom yelled.
Mason intervened, getting in between us. “Carly’s right, Sherry. It’s my fault. Don’t blame her.”
Mom glared at him. “She still shouldn’t have told them—”
Bastian: A Secret Baby Romance Page 31