by Joey Bush
Jaxon and I both sagged against the bed as the last of the spasms of pleasure began to abate, both of us panting and gasping. I couldn’t hear anything going on in the frat house around us; I barely even knew why I cared if I could. I was a million miles away, still tingling, my arms and legs wrapped around Jaxon as we both recovered from our respective orgasms. In the back of my mind, I knew it wasn’t as simple as what had just happened, but I didn’t care. I felt so good, it felt so right. I drifted off into a doze, not quite falling asleep, with Jaxon’s weight against me, his arms wrapped around me, happy for the first time in weeks.
STEPBROTHER WHOA!
The Stepbrother Romance Series Book #5
Chapter One
I woke up gradually the next morning, still in Jaxon’s arms, warm and happy in spite of the ache deep down between my hips. I smiled to myself, burying my face in his pillow, laughing as quietly as I could. It seemed to me like the harder we tried to stay away from each other, the more and more inevitable it was that we ended up throwing ourselves at each other.
I felt Jaxon shifting next to me in the bed, and I turned over onto my back carefully, tilting my head to look at him. “Hey,” Jaxon said, smiling slightly. “You’re not going to freak out on me again and storm out of the room, are you?” I chuckled quietly and shook my head.
“I was just thinking about the fact that the more we try to avoid each other the more we seem to end up jumping each other’s bones. Freaking out and storming off would probably just lead to us screwing around again.” Jaxon snickered.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, I’m just so tired of trying to pretend like everything is good between us when it isn’t.” I nodded.
The whole frat house was quiet; if the guys had come back the night before, I’d been too deeply asleep to notice. It occurred to me that I’d actually slept through the night for the first time in weeks, instead of tossing and turning, trying so carefully not to think about Jaxon, or to tell myself over and over again that everything was great with our brother-sister tactic. Even when I had been neck-deep in denial, I hadn’t been able to convince myself that it was really okay with me, that it was better that way. Maybe that was why I hadn’t even mentioned the situation to Mom—it was too stressful keeping it all in my own brain, and talking to her about it would just make things worse.
It was so incredibly nice to be in the house without a ton of noise going on around us; it felt somehow even more private than it had been at Bob’s house during break—even though there were several times more people in the building. “It’s so weird for it to be this quiet,” I told Jaxon. He nodded, smiling in a sleepy, dreamy way.
“Yeah—it’s weird, but nice. I don’t have to worry about anyone walking in on us, or someone setting off the alarm, anything like that. It’s a good change.” He pulled me closer to him in the bed; I knew that we were going to have to talk more about the situation, but for the moment it was nice enough to just be close to him, to feel his skin against mine, to remember how good the sex had been the night before.
“So, how are your classes going?” Jaxon rolled his eyes, his hands beginning to wander over me. In the morning quiet, I could tell neither of us really wanted to talk about what was really on our minds: what we were going to do about the incredibly screwed up situation we’d found ourselves in. It was obvious to me that we just couldn’t cut it with the avoiding each other, give each other space, and just be brother and sister thing, but I couldn’t begin to think of how we could do anything else.
Instead, we lay around in his bed and talked about everything else under the sun; I told him about my mom, about losing Dad, getting into sports. I told him about losing my virginity, about the parties I’d gone to in high school, the fact that Mom had taught me how to take a tequila shot at the age of eight as the result of already being drunk from too many tequila shots of her own.
Jaxon told me about joining the frat, about his Mom—and how they’d ended up without her. He told me about the friction between him and Bob. “What did Dad say about me after I left?” He asked me, his brow crinkled with concern. I hesitated; some of the things Bob had said were vile. But I told him about it, and Jaxon nodded slowly, looking unsurprised. “You know I’m not that guy anymore, right?” Jaxon’s bright eyes stared down into mine and I smiled.
“Well, if you were, I wouldn’t have any problem not having anything to do with you,” I told him. “It’d be dead easy because you’d be a jerk and a loser.” Jaxon frowned; not angrily, but with the same defeated look in his eyes he’d had when Bob was shouting in the middle of the lodge about what a useless teenager he’d been. “Look,” I said, turning to face him in the bed. “None of us are the same way we were in high school. You were going through a lot of shit, and you acted the way you did because you were a dumb kid. We were all dumb kids back then. It doesn’t bother me—because you wouldn’t be the great guy you are now if you hadn’t done that stuff back then.” Jaxon held my gaze for a long moment before nodding.
“I’m so glad you understand,” Jaxon told me with a smile. “I probably shouldn’t admit it, but every single time Dad brings that shit up I just feel…like it’s still happening, like I’m still that person.” He shook his head.
For a moment, I considered bringing up the fact that Bob’s tirade had made me feel really—really uncomfortable. I remembered all the things that Jaxon and Bob had shouted at each other, the pure rage and bitterness in their voices, the way they seemed to absolutely hate each other. I thought about telling Jaxon how scared it had made me to see them ripping each other apart that way—especially to see Bob treating Jaxon so horribly. It was on the tip of my tongue; and then, looking at Jaxon, I realized that it would be the worst possible thing to do.
It was obviously too sensitive a subject. It was too personal. I changed the subject, asking about Jaxon’s experience snowboarding. He was so much better than me—I had to know how he’d gotten to be that way. We joked and chatted, taking advantage of the quiet of the frat house.
We spent the entire morning in bed together, cuddling, talking, touching each other; Jaxon pulled my body close to his, slipping his hand down between my legs while we continued to murmur to each other. He stroked and rubbed my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I reached behind me as Jaxon turned me on more and more. I wrapped my hand around his cock, stroking him slowly as he rubbed me. Without even discussing it, it seemed like we had decided amongst ourselves to not touch on the subject of our status as brother and sister.
Jaxon got me off over and over again; it seemed like now that we had gotten started, it was impossible for us to stop. He buried his face between my legs, devouring me again and again, licking and sucking my clit while I got hotter and hotter and wetter and wetter. He held me tightly against him and stroked and rubbed me while I squirmed and writhed. He kissed me everywhere, caressing me, teasing me, rolling my nipples between his fingers.
I returned the favor all morning, stroking and rubbing him, wrapping my mouth around him to suck and lick him. I couldn’t be sure if there were more than a couple of spots on his body that my mouth didn’t eventually find, that I didn’t eventually kiss, suck, or lick, while we tumbled among the covers. He took me from behind, he pulled me on top of him and I rode him, we seemed to be able to go on and on, switching positions, trying out everything we could think of with the golden opportunity we’d been given. After all, we’d already gone back on our agreement not to treat each other as anything other than brother and sister—what was the point in stopping now?
While we were lying around, barely able to keep our hands off of each other, I realized I didn’t have any classes for the rest of the day. “Oh, hey—Jaxon, do you have classes?” Jaxon smiled slowly.
“Nope. Free for the rest of the day.” I curled up close to him, kissing along the line of his throat.
“Why don’t we grab some lunch—because I am starving—and then we can hit the slopes.” Jaxon’s eyes lit up.
“You know,” he said, cupping my breast and giving it a squeeze. “I was watching you the other day at the tournament, and I was thinking there were some tweaks you could make to your tricks—get higher points next time and maybe even take home the gold.” For a moment I bristled; the confident tone of Jaxon’s voice and his insistence that he could help me get better made me feel instinctively defensive. But I couldn’t help but admit to myself that he was much better than me. He had been incredibly impressive on the slopes—both at the tournament and when we’d been just on the mountain fooling around.
“I guess it can’t hurt,” I said, nuzzling against Jaxon’s chest. “But lunch first. There’s no way I won’t end up face planting of I don’t get some food in me.” Jaxon laughed.
“Especially after all that cardio you just did.”
I hurried over to my dorm and grabbed my gear, dressing warmly for the snowy conditions on the mountain we were going to. The good thing about the season was that we could actually practice on real slopes instead of in the practice warehouse on the artificial slope. It would be even better to get some worthwhile time to go over my tricks, and maybe Jaxon really could give me some advice.
Jaxon met me at the parking lot, and I loaded my stuff into his car. I felt tingly all over; Jaxon had gotten me off two or three times that morning while we had been lying in bed together, and I was always excited to go boarding. “Where do you want to grab lunch?” Jaxon asked as he pulled away, heading off campus. I shrugged.
“That chili place maybe? Or maybe El Luchador—I think they have a special on tacos.” We chatted as we made our way across the sleepy town and grabbed a quick bite; still, neither of us wanted to discuss the issue of our parents. Instead we talked about everything else. Jaxon told me about how he had trained, and we compared techniques.
“You know, I’m still in touch with my cross-training guy; maybe he could suggest some workouts for you in the gym. Shake things up a bit.” I was intrigued in spite of myself—and I agreed to hit the guy up.
It was a beautiful day, and I was, for once in the past several weeks, at ease. It would be a fun day out on the slopes, and getting some advice from a guy as good as Jaxon at competing would add to that. Best of all, for the moment at least I didn’t have to think about keeping him out of my mind. It would all change soon enough, I knew, but for the moment I was just glad for the break, glad to be with him without having to hold back or try and think about something else. I could tell Jaxon was in his element too—the snow on the ground, the prospect of great conditions on the mountain, a day free from classes and all of the stress of homework and studying was just what we both needed, and something that neither of us had really gotten even during winter break. We’d been so wrapped up in avoiding each other, and everything had been so incredibly tense, that neither of us had been able to relax at all.
Chapter Two
When we finally got to the mountain it was early afternoon; I was confident—I’d been boarding for years, and I was looking forward to Jaxon’s comments on how I could make some minor tweaks to make myself even better. We went down a few passes together just to warm up and to get into the zone, and I watched him; he was even better than I remembered, landing clean and grabbing sick air. The first day of lessons would be a piece of cake, I thought as we both slid to a halt at the bottom of the track.
“Okay, so I noticed that when you go into your aerials, you’re not bringing your knees up enough,” Jaxon told me, going from being the sweet, laughing guy I cared so much about to a serious critic in an instant. He went on, finding something in seemingly every little thing I tried to do that I could be doing better; I wasn’t coming out of my grabs fast enough, I wasn’t timing my landing right, I was shifting my weight on the board wrong for a particular jump. At first I felt myself going defensive; after all, I was good enough to get second place in my division, wasn’t I? I had always been good—I had broken bones and twisted ankles and sprained wrists, devoting blood, sweat, and more than a few tears to the process of becoming the best possible snowboarder I could be. Who was he to pick apart my tricks?
I fought him on it, trying not to pay attention to his advice, to keep doing it my way for a few runs, just to prove how wrong he was. When I nearly twisted my ankle coming out of an aerial combo, I recovered and glided down to the end of the track, fully prepared for him to tell me “I told you so.” I set my jaw, crossing my arms over my chest. For just a moment I was on the verge of telling him to go to hell and to take me back to the dorms or I’d find a cab and figure out a way to pay him myself.
“Mia, babe—you nearly had it that time,” Jaxon said with a little smile. “Look, I know it’s weird to change up what feels comfortable, but I really don’t want to see you get hurt just because you think I’m being mean. Don’t push it so hard.” I frowned.
“It just seems like you’re saying I suck at everything.” Jaxon shook his head, wrapping his arms around me tightly and giving me a lingering kiss on the lips. I felt his hands wandering over me—soothing with an undercurrent of lust between us—and I smiled in spite of how irritated I felt.
“If you sucked at everything you wouldn’t be on the team and you wouldn’t have placed second at that meet. I don’t think you suck, I just think you’ve gotten into a few bad habits, and that if you changed them a little tiny bit you’d be even better.” I wanted to stay mad at him; I wanted to keep feeling offended that he wanted me to change up my whole method, everything about the way I did things on the slopes.
But it was too easy to melt into him when he hugged me, and way too easy to realize that he meant what he said; I wasn’t a bad boarder and he wasn’t trying to say that I was. I was being defensive because I was used to being great—I had to get used to the idea that he was better than me, that he knew more about it than me. I should be jumping at the opportunity to improve instead of sulking when he pointed out what I was doing wrong—it was the attitude I’d had about everything I’d ever done before. It was tough coming from a guy I was attracted to and wanted to impress, but I had to separate that out from the advice he was giving me.
I started to do things the way he suggested and immediately I noticed the difference. By shifting my weight like he told me to in a certain trick I didn’t have that panicked moment right before the landing where I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to hit the slope clean. By bringing my knees up just a little bit more I had more control of a jump. It wasn’t comfortable right away, and I knew it would take lots of practice before I could do exactly what he’d suggested, but I could feel how much more control I had over the tricks just based off of the few suggestions he made.
We took turns watching each other go down the slopes, riding down to keep pace, and I saw over and over again what a phenomenal boarder Jaxon was. It was easy for me to see that snowboarding had been the thing that had really taken him out of his bad days as a teenager; that he had thrown himself totally into it. He had some natural ability, but he’d also worked hard relentlessly to get to where he was. I realized that I’d been coasting on the fact that I was something of a badass among my friends, willing to try tricks that no one else did, working hard but more or less just going for the flashiest things instead of actual technical skill. I had been distracted at the tournament, but if I’d been working harder at perfecting my tricks—if I’d worked as hard as Jaxon did, for example—being distracted wouldn’t have mattered as much.
After all, based on how hot and heavy he’d come onto me at the lodge afterward, it wasn’t hard to believe that Jaxon had been every bit as distracted as I was, and he’d come home with the gold for that tournament. He had every possibility of taking home the same first place prize at the next meet; and I wanted to be right up there with him, getting my picture snapped, getting attention from the people I admired most.
I started to relax and things got better and better. Jaxon and I started to fool around, goofing off on our way down the slopes, joking to each other. Jaxon’s advice was
really starting to work, and I felt more and more confident in my abilities. We kept going for it, shooting down the slopes together, hitting aerials, trying more and more adventurous tricks as we got sillier over the course of the afternoon. “We should really head back,” Jaxon said. “I’m starved.”
I agreed. I was hungry—our lunch had been huge, but hours of going down the slopes had burned all the calories I had eaten at the taco place Jaxon and I had chosen. We loaded up our gear into Jaxon’s car; before I could get into the passenger seat, Jaxon pushed me up against the door and kissed me hungrily, his hands wandering over my body slowly. “Keep your cool, Jax,” I murmured, chuckling lowly as he began to nip at my neck. “We don’t want frostbite—at least I don’t.” Jaxon laughed and kissed me once more before opening the door to let me in.
Chapter Three
“So we’re going to keep things cool back at the house, right?” Jaxon tweaked my braid playfully.
“Yeah,” I said, shrugging. We didn’t really talk about it over dinner—we’d sort of danced around the issue. We both knew that things would be complicated, but we were mostly just going to see how they went. It was obvious that the guys in the frat knew that something had happened between us; it wasn’t worth dealing with the drama to have to explain how it had changed. If we just acted as normally as possible, it would be better all around. We didn’t even come close to the subject of our parents.
Jaxon pulled away from me just a little bit, and we both tried to compose ourselves as much as possible as we made our way towards the front door of the Phi Kappa house. When we’d left earlier in the day, no one had really been up—the party the night before across campus had apparently been a rager. I giggled to myself at the thought of putting one over on the guys I hung out with; it was petty, but there was a thrill to the idea of having a secret relationship—at least one that was secret from people other than our parents. Just keep it cool, I told myself.