Stiff: A Stepbrother Romance (Includes bonus novel Cocked!)

by Hamel, B. B.

  I crushed my mouth against his, kissing him hard. He returned my kiss with as much passion as his fingers found my clit, sending electricity pulsing through my veins.

  “We can’t,” I gasped. “Not here.”

  He looked around. “We’re alone.”

  “But someone can come by.”

  “You’re not afraid, are you, Laney?”

  His fingers rolled along my soaked clit, playing with my body. “No,” I groaned. “I’m not afraid.”

  “I know you’re not,” he whispered hot in my ear, teasing my pussy. “You’ll let me fuck you wherever I want, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” I gasped. “God, I need your cock.”

  He kissed me hard, fingers sliding inside me. I gripped his arms as he worked me, thrusting inside my tight pussy.

  I grabbed the end of his shirt and began to unbutton it. I slipped it off his muscular chest a minute later. We broke apart to pull his undershirt over his head, revealing his ripped and tattooed body. I ran my fingers down his chest and along his abs, loving that he teased me all the while, his eyes roaming my body.

  I began to unbuckle his belt.

  “You want me right here?” I whispered.

  “I want you to wrap your legs around my hips and slide down along my thick cock.”

  He quickly reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He slipped a condom from the wallet and then tossed the wallet into the backseat.

  I helped him slide out of his pants, his cock pressing hard against his black boxer briefs. He tossed the pants into the backseat as I slipped his briefs down, revealing his hard dick.

  “Don’t be shy,” he said. “I want to see you suck that cock again.”

  I slowly stroked him up and down. “And why would I do that?”

  “Because those lips were made for sucking cock.”

  I leaned forward and slipped his tip into my mouth, sucking it hard. I loved making him groan, making him moan, and I loved his taste. He could barely fit in my mouth, but I sucked him anyway. He pressed his hands to the back of my head, talking dirty the whole time.

  “I love those pretty lips around my cock,” he whispered. “You’re such a dirty girl, sucking me off like this. I know you want to feel me inside you, filling your tight pussy up.”

  I worked him, sucking him hard, my whole body buzzing and vibrating. I needed it, needed to be fucked, needed his cock and his body.

  After a minute, he pulled me back. He slid his seat back as far as it would go and handed me the condom.

  I tore it open without another word and rolled it down along his cock. I leaned back then and slipped off my panties, useless and soaked.

  He grabbed my hair, pulling me close to him. “Tell me this is what you want.”

  “I want it.”

  “Say you want me to fuck you.”

  “Fuck me, please, Easton.”

  He grabbed my hips and pulled me across the center console, placing me down with my legs straddling his hips.

  “Say it again.”

  “Fuck me. Please.”

  He slowly lowered me down along his cock.

  His thickness slid inside me, so slowly, and shivers ran down my spine. I pressed my hands against his hard chest as he slowly let me slip down his length. I couldn’t believe he could fit inside me, but I was finally down, feeling the sweet ache of him deep between me.

  “Fuck, girl,” he grunted. “Your pussy is a fucking vise. You’re so fucking tight.”

  “Easton,” I groaned as I began to slide back up. “Fuck, you feel good.”

  He grabbed my ass. “Your pussy is like fucking fire.”

  I began to ride him slowly, up and down, my tits in his face. He kissed me, kissed my neck, tasted my nipples. His hands were firm on my hips, guiding me, sliding me, moving me up and down his thick cock.

  I could feel wave after wave of pleasure rolling through me. I was frenzied, needing him, wanting him. My hands roamed his muscular chest and shoulders as I began to ride faster, sliding up and down.

  “I love that,” he grunted. “I love that thick ass riding my cock. Work those fucking hips,” he said.

  I began to rock my hips in circles, riding him up and down. “Oh my god, Easton,” I said in his ear.

  He slapped my ass. “Ride that cock.”

  “Fuck. Slap me again.”

  He slapped me again, harder, and then used his hands and his hips to slam his cock deep inside me. I threw my head back, moaning with abandon as he began to thrust inside me, my tits bouncing with every hard thrust.

  He wasn’t holding back. I could feel the power in every new thrust, his cock slamming deep into me.

  And I lost myself. I lost myself in him, in his smell and his taste and his cock, every new thrust driving me closer and closer to ecstasy. His mouth was on my nipples, teasing me as he slapped my ass again, fucking me deep and rough.

  I wanted him so badly, wanted his thick cock, needed it to fill my every inch. I rolled my hips, rocking back and forth. The idea of getting caught never even occurred to me as he fucked me right there in the car, the windows slowly beginning to steam up.

  I pressed my hand against the glass as his fingers found my clit. I leaned back, knocking the horn once, as he began to fuck me rough and rub my clit. His other hand supported my ass, his muscles building, and I knew I was close.

  “Keep doing that,” I gasped, moaning loudly. “Fuck me just like that.”

  His fingers moved in incredible circles, sending amazing pleasure through my whole body. His strong arms supported me as he fucked me rough, hard and deep, each thrust a skin-slapping pleasure.

  And then it began to roll through me. The orgasm built in my pussy and exploded up through my mind. My whole back arched, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him and fucking me rough and hard.

  “Oh shit, oh shit, Easton, fuck,” I groaned.

  “Come for me, girl,” he said. “Come for me while I fill that pussy up.”

  My orgasm was heavy and thick all through me. I could feel him tense as well, his grunts getting louder, his thrusts more urgent.

  “I’m going to fill this pussy up,” he grunted. “I’m going to come deep in your little pussy.”

  “Oh shit. Fill me, Easton. Fuck my pussy,” I moaned.

  As my orgasm slowly faded, his thrusts got harder, deeper, and his whole body stiffened in response.

  His orgasm rocked through him. He buried his face between my breasts as his hands held my hips tight, his cock fucking my pussy deep.

  And then slowly, it was over. I sat there panting, feeling the sweet, incredible ache of his cock still deep between my legs.

  “Shit,” I said. “Did anyone see us?”

  Easton laughed, kissing my neck. “Who fucking cares?”

  I laughed too, a giddy and mindless laugh. I felt light and free and right for the first time since I’d come home. “Yeah, fuck it.”

  Our laughter slowly subsided. Another minute later, I slid myself off him and back into my own seat.

  The car windows were pretty fogged up. He reached into the backseat and grabbed our clothes. He pulled the condom off, knotted it, and tossed it out the window.

  I shook my head at him. “Don’t litter.”

  He just grinned at me as he got dressed. I followed his lead, pulling on my useless panties, putting my clothes back on.

  My head was spinning, buzzing with energy and pleasure. I was floating, barely in the car. Easton was incredible, powerful and hungry, and he made me feel better than I could have imagined.

  He put the air on blast and slowly the fogged windows began to clear.

  “Holy shit,” he said. “Quick, the camera.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Did someone see us?”

  “No. It’s him. The camera!”

  I quickly grabbed it from the glove compartment. I handed it to him, and instantly he started snapping pictures.

  I followed his gaze, and sure enough, just ac
ross the lot, a man and a blond, barely-dressed woman were walking toward a car.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. I couldn’t tell what he looked like.

  “Positive. And if that’s not a hooker, then I didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life.”

  I blushed. “Just get the pictures.”

  We watched as they got into the car. He got a picture of the license plate. “What dumb luck,” he said.

  “Ten minutes earlier and we would have never noticed.”

  He grinned at me. “Things always seem to work out for me.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Yeah, you’re just so lucky.”

  He tossed me the camera and started the engine. “Come on. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  The sun was almost down. “Okay. Sounds good.”

  We drove off, heading back toward the office. My pussy still throbbed from him and my head was buzzing, a pleasant, comfortable feeling.

  We’d gotten the pictures. And more importantly, I had finally felt his cock deep inside me.

  As we kept driving, I was already imagining what it would feel like getting fucked by his strong body again and again, sweating deep into the night.

  Chapter Fourteen: Easton

  My head was still buzzing from Laney’s sweet cunt as we walked into my office apartment.

  She was oddly quiet on the drive back, almost as if my cock had finally satisfied her curiosity. I kept thinking about her full tits in my face, her hips slamming down onto my cock, the tight grip of her pussy wrapped around me, and coming deep inside her, our eyes locked together.

  It was almost enough to get me fucking hard again.

  “Got to develop these,” I said to her.

  “Sure. I’ll be here.” She sat down at the desk, rearranging the messy surface.

  I walked toward the bathroom, but a vibrating in my pocket drew me up short. I pulled out my cell and answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Easton? This is Sheriff Sloan.”

  Ah fuck, I thought. Can’t the world let me feel fucking okay for ten fucking minutes?

  “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

  “We have another body.”

  I felt a stab of adrenaline. I leaned up against the doorjamb, speaking more softly.

  “That’s fast.”

  “We found her today. I think she’s only been dead for twelve hours at most.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’ll text you the location.”

  “Got it.” I hung up the phone and walked back into the main room.

  Laney looked up. “Everything okay?”

  “Do you know how to use a gun?”

  She stared at me for a second and then smiled uncertainly. “You point and shoot, right?”

  “Seriously.”

  She shook her head. “No. What’s wrong?”

  I unlocked a drawer at the bottom of the cabinet and pulled out my old service revolver. I flipped open the chamber and made sure it was loaded, and then I flipped it back.

  “No safety. You just point and shoot. Pull the trigger slowly and breathe. Don’t panic.”

  Laney looked concerned now as I walked over and placed the gun on the desk in front of her.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, Laney. I have to go meet Sheriff Sloan. I want you to lock the door behind me and wait here.”

  “Was there another murder?”

  I nodded gravely. “I don’t have time to drop you off. So please, stay here. Don’t open the door for anyone but me under any circumstances.” I paused and looked down at my weapon. “Shoot to kill if you have to.”

  Her eyes were wide. “Easton, let me come with you.”

  “No. It’s not safe for you.”

  “I can help.”

  “Laney,” I said, more forcefully than I’d meant to. “There’s a killer on the loose. I need to know you’re safe.”

  She nodded slowly. “Okay. Fine.”

  “Call if you need anything.” I walked into my back room and reached under my mattress, grabbing my own pistol. I checked the clip, shoved it into a holster, and shoved the holster into my pants.

  “Be careful,” Laney said as I left.

  “You too.” I shut the door behind me and headed down the steps, all thoughts of Laney’s body banished from my mind.

  “Are you ready to see this?” Sloan asked me.

  We were ten minutes outside town. It was a small wooded area not five minutes from a small subdivision of houses. Whoever put the body in this area had huge hulking balls, because he’d been within easy sight of anyone.

  “Show me.”

  Sloan nodded and we headed through the police tape. Up ahead, I saw the body propped against a tree, just like the last one.

  As I got closer, I began to use my analytically-trained mind to understand what I was seeing. The girl was young, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and Hispanic. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly.

  Like all the other killings, her hands were mutilated and her fingers were removed. Like the new killings only, her hands were placed gently in her lap. She was fully clothed, which meant I wasn’t sure if she had been sexually assaulted or not. The girl was younger than the victims normally were, and whoever did the killing may not have been able to rape a minor.

  Good for him. I doubted it mattered in the long run whether the sick fuck could get it up or not.

  Finally, the strangest part of the whole scene: Nailed above the girl’s head was a wooden board with the word “TON” carved into it.

  “What do you think?” Sloan asked me.

  “Odd,” I said, distracted. I walked around the tree again slowly, being careful of where I stepped, looking for any evidence. A single boot print had been marked out, but it was faint. Otherwise, the scene was clean, as usual.

  “Some differences,” I said. “Her hands are folded gently, like the killer cared. Normally she’s left splayed open, or just tossed on the ground. The sign is also new.”

  “Any clue what it means?”

  “No. Not right now.”

  “Tech says they don’t think she was raped.”

  I nodded. “I heard him say that. Another oddity.”

  “Maybe he’s not into young girls.”

  “Good for him.”

  Sloan grunted. “I’ll let you look around. We set up over there in the east.” He pointed back the way we’d come.

  I followed his gaze and then stopped. It hit me suddenly like a ton of bricks. I’d had this feeling before in the past; it always happened when a big break suddenly happened.

  Sloan walked off back toward camp. He had said something, but I hadn’t heard. I was too busy staring at that sign.

  “TON,” etched clearly into the wood.

  The girl was facing east.

  “’EAST-TON.’”

  I shook my head. It couldn’t be; it was just so improbable. But nothing about this killer made sense, and nothing about what he did was meaningless. He was breaking all the rules, and now suddenly he was sending me a personal message.

  He wanted me to know that he’d been thinking about me when he had killed this girl.

  I walked back toward camp almost in a haze. Ahead I saw a small group of techs photographing something on the ground.

  “The girl,” I said. They all looked up. “Who is she?”

  The one guy looked at the other. He flipped open his clipboard. “I.D. just came back, actually. Luisa Suarez, age sixteen. Local girl.”

  I stumbled back toward the body in a haze, not saying anything else. I could barely think, barely breath. I stopped in front of her and knelt down, staring into her face.

  Mrs. Suarez from forty years ago stared back at me.

  I didn’t know if Luisa was Mrs. Suarez’s granddaughter or daughter, or something else, but it was obvious that they were related.

  And she had been murdered because of me and me alone.

  That was the obvious
meaning of the sign and the direction. Subtle enough that the cops likely wouldn’t connect the two, but obvious enough that I might. Even if I didn’t get the east-facing thing right away, I’d know something was up when the girl got identified.

  I stared at her, my head ringing. Ever since the killings had started months ago, I’d known it had something to do with me. Seed was dead, but somebody was killing like him. And with each new dead woman, the killings drew closer and closer to me.

  Five dead women—six now that Luisa was gone—each coming closer and closer until finally a woman was killed with a direct connection to me.

  Luisa Suarez. I didn’t know her, but she didn’t deserve to get fucking killed.

  The piece of shit. The son of a bitch. The mother fucker was going to burn. He was going to fucking pay for this.

  I stood up, seething with rage.

  The fucking game was changing. I had hoped that the real law enforcement was going to help fix this fucking mess, but they were clearly inept. They couldn’t fix shit unless I got involved.

  I couldn’t sit by anymore and let this fucking bastard kill again.

  I was going to have to find him and end it myself.

  Chapter Fifteen: Laney

  I sat there staring at the gun for longer than I realized.

  One second he put the thing in front of me, and the next it was almost an hour and I hadn’t so much as moved.

  Shoot to kill kept ringing through my head. I kept imagining picking the thing up, feeling the weight of the metal, and squeezing the trigger.

  It looked so easy in movies. You squeezed and it made a little popping sound. But I knew the truth was completely different, that the gun would jump in your hands and the sound was deafening.

  And someone would get killed at the other end of your gun.

  I stood up and carried my laptop into the back room. I hadn’t spent much time in here, mostly because it was Easton’s private space. I didn’t feel like I was welcome.

  But tonight, I didn’t much care.

  I sat down on the futon and opened my laptop, scrolling through Facebook. I needed to keep my mind occupied. I could easily spiral into fear and uncertainty, but I needed to avoid doing that.