by Jessica Ashe
SCORE
Copyright © 2015 Jessica Ashe
Score is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or their likeness is entirely coincidental.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex scenes and adult language. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this content is likely to offend you.
All characters in the book are 18+ years of age, not blood related, and all sexual acts are consensual.
All Rights Reserved.
Thank you to everyone who helped make this book possible. There are too many to name, but you know who you are. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.
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Table of Contents
Dedication
Mailing List
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Mailing List
Reviews
Escape
Escape - Chapter One
Escape - Chapter Two
About the Author
First dates were terrifying at the best of times, but this date really had my nerves on edge. I suppose that’s to be expected when you’re going on a date with your stepbrother.
We’d already kissed a couple of times, and there had been some light foreplay, but I usually put a stop to things before they went too far. On the few occasions I’d lacked the willpower to stop Jaxon, our parents had acted like a cold shower by nearly catching us in the act.
Before agreeing to go on an official date, I’d tried to break things off entirely at least three times. What we were doing seemed wrong, but Jaxon always insisted it was fine.
“We both adults and we’re not blood-related,” he said on an almost daily basis. “It’s not like we even grew up together; I only met you a year ago.”
I hadn’t taken a lot of convincing. When Jaxon proposed that we go on an official first date, I jumped at the offer. We still had to keep things secretive. It wasn’t like Jaxon could have picked me up from my dad’s house—which he also lived in—and then take me somewhere we could be seen together.
If anything became of this date then one day we would have to tell our parents, but that day was a long way off yet. That’s why our date was going to be in a dark and quiet bar in upstate New York. The bar had a reputation as one of those places where married people went on dates with someone other than their spouse. Not exactly a classy joint, but right now it served a useful purpose.
I’d been attracted to Jaxon from the moment I first laid eyes on him. For thirty blissful seconds I admired him as he sat in my living room talking to my father about sport. I didn’t know we were soon to be siblings, so I mentally undressed him and fantasized about performing sexual acts on him that I’d never done in real life.
When his mom joined us in the living room and announced that she was marrying my father, my heart sank in a way I didn’t think was possible for someone I hadn’t actually spoken to yet. I wish I could say that my sexual excitement had died off just as quickly, but that was far from the truth.
I expected the attraction to disappear once I started picturing him as a brother. Surely I couldn’t be attracted to someone I would soon be related to? Apparently I could.
Jaxon moved into the house and slept in the room next door to me. Knowing he was in the next room over made it impossible to sleep. I had a constant urge to bring myself to orgasm, but was terrified of doing so with Jaxon so nearby. I started going to bed early just so I had time to masturbate before Jaxon came upstairs. I’d then wake up early in the morning to do so again. My new found sexuality thrilled and terrified me at the same time. Things only got harder as Jaxon and I became closer.
It should have been easy to write Jaxon off as a complete prick who wasn’t worth my time, but he never acted that way around me. I saw him date loads of women and treat them like shit, but he was never like that with me.
Jaxon was a year older than me, but despite his mom’s protestations, he’d opted not to go to college so that he could focus on playing soccer full-time. He intended to ignore the US system entirely because that required going through a college soccer program, and he wanted to play in Europe. It sounded like a stupid risk to take. Every kid in Europe grew up wanting to play professional soccer—or football as they called it—so Jaxon’s chances were infinitesimal. I made a vague effort to convince him to go to college, but I was delighted when he opted to stay at home instead. We weren’t doing anything at that point, but I had my morning routine set around ‘accidentally’ bumping into Jaxon when he walked out of the bathroom after a shower.
After nine months of fantasizing about Jaxon—but nothing more—I accepted that nothing was going to happen between us. Not only was I about to go to college, but Jaxon had just received the good news; he’d been spotted by a scout from an English soccer team who wanted to sign him up before the new season started. The amount of money they were offering him was mind-boggling. It was more than enough to justify his decision to skip college entirely.
We stayed up late one night chatting, and I joked about going to England with him. I’d been accepted to Harvard University, so presumably I would be able to get into a good college in England as well. Everything between us was completely platonic at this stage, at least outwardly. We acted as normal friends and even joked about our sex lives occasionally. I say ‘joked;’ in my case it was more like ‘lied.’ I was still a virgin but didn’t want Jaxon to know that.
After a few too many drinks, I started getting a bit teary-eyed at the thought of losing him. I tried to pretend I was just scared about starting college, but he said he knew why I was really upset and that he felt the same way. He stared into my eyes and wiped my tears away with this thumbs. Neither of us could bring ourselves to say out loud what we were feeling.
Finally, Jaxon kissed me. I would have lost my virginity that night if I hadn’t been such an idiot. A noise downstairs startled me and I pushed him away. It’d only been the wind rustling the blinds, but for a second I’d thought Dad had come home, and that sent me into a blind panic.
I did everything I could to talk myself out of allowing a repeat performance. Not only was Jaxon my stepbrother, he also had a well-earned reputation as a player. When he’d first arrived in town he’d had a different girl every week, and recently he’d been spotted with Emilia, a girl who’d been in my grade at school. Jaxon insisted there was nothing between them, but the rumors persisted and he would often come home late at night and act all cagey about where he had been.
Despite what my brain was telling me, I kept spending
time with Jaxon and we kept kissing and fondling each other. After weeks of stolen kisses and ‘nearly moments,’ Jaxon finally convinced me that we could make this work if we just slowed down and acted like a normal couple. That was why we were doing an official date. Normal couples had first dates, so we needed to have one as well. We also made a deal—on our date there would be no discussion of our parents or home life.
I’d been on a few first dates before, but never with men I was sexually attracted to. With those dates, I just threw on some nice clothes, slapped on a bit of makeup, and made sure I was showing enough of my breasts to not look frigid, while not too much to look like a slut.
This date was different. This time all the emotions I read about in books or saw on TV were flowing through my body with enough force to make me have second thoughts about the entire thing. It had taken me nearly two hours to get ready, and I’d had butterflies in my stomach since lunchtime.
I briefly considered calling off the date, but that wouldn’t help. I’d still be a nervous wreck, but instead of being nervous about the date, I would be nervous about seeing Jaxon again.
This was supposed to be a real date, so I made sure to turn up ten minutes late. Not so late it would be rude, but enough to make Jaxon a little anxious. I was terrified, so it was only fair to make him panic a bit as well.
We hadn’t booked a table because this place didn’t typically need reservations, but tonight it was actually rather busy. The bar area was packed, and there were a few loud groups who were making short work of pitchers of beer that were discounted for happy hour.
Jaxon was nowhere to be seen. I walked around the entire bar twice and then sat down at a small table I’d found in the back corner of the room.
Where are you? I asked via text message. No response. After five minutes I went back through my emails to make sure I was in the right place. We’d discussed meeting here a few times and agreed it was a good location. Jaxon’s latest email specifically said to meet here at seven thirty.
I sent another message. Is this what you always do on first dates? Isn’t it bad form to keep the lady waiting? I added a :-) to the end of the message even though I wasn’t feeling all that :-) at the moment.
A few minutes later, a message did come through on my phone, but it was from my best friend, Aaron. Just saw Jaxon in Place 99. Are you going to be here too? We should catch up.
Aaron knew Jaxon and I were close and regularly went drinking together, but he had no idea what else we did. He was my best friend, but he wouldn’t want to hear about me being sexually attracted to my stepbrother.
What was Jaxon doing in Place 99? We’d never once discussed meeting there. It was full of people I knew and an awful place for a discrete date.
Place 99 was only a ten minute walk away and it was early enough that this neighborhood still felt safe enough to walk in alone. I had no idea what was going on, but I intended to walk inside and drag Jaxon out of there as quickly as possible. There was no way we could have a real date in a place where I was likely to bump into people I knew from high school.
I should have just gone home. What I saw in Place 99 ruined my life.
“Are you really going to do this?” Aaron asked.
“I have to,” I replied. “I don’t have a choice. I thought you agreed with me.”
“I do,” Aaron said. “Kind of. I understand why you’re doing it, but man, she’s going to be devastated.”
“Not as devastated as she would be if something happened to me in the next year.”
“How’s this going to work?” Emilia asked. “Me and you just have to kiss until Jenny sees us. Is that the gist of it?”
“Yep,” I said. “I think we need to kiss for real in case Jenny notices that it looks fake.”
“Fine with me,” Emilia said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Well it’s not with me,” I said. “But I don’t have a choice.”
“You don’t have to sound quite so disgusted at the thought of kissing me,” Emilia said. “I’m not that bad.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I appreciate you helping me out with this. I just didn’t think I’d be kissing another woman tonight.”
“You really like her, don’t you?” Aaron asked.
“Of course. That’s why I’m doing this. Is she on her way?”
Aaron nodded. “She’ll be here any minute. You should get ready. I’ll go stand in the corner and give you a hand sign when she’s about to walk in.”
My heart raced in my chest. When Jenny and I had agreed to go on a date this evening, my mind had run through all the possible ways it might end. Most of them involved a hotel and a shitload of condoms. None of them involved me kissing one of her friends from school. It had taken a drastic set of circumstances to lead me to this decision, but I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice.
“She’s coming,” Emilia said, picking up on Aaron’s hand-signal.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
I rested my hand lightly on Emilia’s leg, but didn’t apply any pressure. I’d never touched a woman’s leg in such a platonic way before. I leaned in towards Emilia, closed my eyes, and kissed her.
I imagined I was an actor playing a role; it was the only way I could get through it. We kissed—or at least our lips stayed in contact for a minute—until Aaron came over and put his hand on my shoulder. Emilia and I pulled apart. I resisted the urge to wipe my lips because that didn’t seem fair to Emilia, but I desperately wanted to go and shower.
“It worked,” Aaron said softly. “She saw you, paused for a few seconds, and then ran out.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m sorry for what’s happening to you, but don’t thank me for helping you hurt my best friend. We should go our separate ways now.”
Aaron, Emilia, and I all left the bar and headed in different directions. I might never see Jenny again, but worst of all, that had been my decision. Not a decision I’d made lightly, but the one that I thought was best for Jenny.
I had my reasons for what I did, and I was sure I’d done the right thing, but doing the right thing really sucked sometimes.
One thing was for sure, I was hurting as much as Jenny right now, if not more. I headed to a hotel by myself and wallowed in self-pity for the evening. I couldn’t take my mind off Jenny and dreamt about her that evening and every one after that. I’d never forget her, but I hoped to God she would forget me.
My four years at Harvard University had kept me busy, but I didn’t even get close to moving on from Jaxon. I still thought about him all the time; it was impossible not to when people at college were constantly talking about him for his success as a soccer player in Europe. I tried not to pay too much attention to what he was doing, but the last year or so must have been a good one because there was now talk of him playing for the national team.
I hadn’t seen Jaxon since that night we were supposed to have a date, but I did have to face his mom every time I went back home for the holidays. Carrie insisted on telling me every little detail of his life whenever I saw her, but I did my best not to pay any attention.
At least Jaxon and I had different surnames so no one at Harvard connected me to him. The last thing I wanted was everyone asking me about my good-looking and famous stepbrother who had cheated on me when we were supposed to be having a date. Did it still count as cheating if we hadn’t even been on a date? Probably not, but the hurt I’d endured for the last four years had been real regardless of the technicalities.
As soon as I finished my degree, I started looking for a job on the West Coast. I didn’t want to move away from my father, but I needed to get away from Carrie. Every time I saw her I thought about Jaxon. Besides, she was a complete bitch, and we didn’t get on at all. God only knows what my Dad saw in her.
The job search had progressed slowly, but I never got to the stage where I was truly panicking. I had little in the way of real work experience, but a degree from Harvard tended to open doors. I arrange
d for three consecutive interviews and was about to book a flight to California when Carrie stuck her nose into things.
Carrie worked as an investment banker on Wall Street and she insisted that the best thing for me to do was to get a few years’ work experience and then go to business school. I didn’t hate the idea of going to business school, but Carrie and I had a different idea on what constituted a good way to get work experience.
I wanted to go and work for a tech company in California—preferably a startup—but Carrie insisted I go and work for her firm as a banker. I tried to explain that my social studies major hadn’t exactly prepared me for a career working with numbers, but she didn’t let up. Eventually, Carrie proposed a compromise, and set me up with a job working for one of her major clients.
I tried to reject the offer of her help at first, but Dad wanted me to stay close by, and one of the startups I was to interview with had already canceled due to financial issues. I suppose working for a big company did have some advantages. I had no clue what the company actually did or how it made money, but I was offered a position after a brief interview and it paid well. I would be working as part of a large team with little real responsibility which suited me just fine. All I had to do was analyze contracts according to certain metrics, and work with the legal team to prepare revisions and help with negotiations.
The job meant working in New York City—at least an hour commute from home—but after a few months on a comfortable salary I would be able to afford to move out of the family home, and ultimately that was my main priority. The job had sounded almost too good to be true, and it was.
Immediately after starting, I was quickly reassigned to a subsidiary of the parent company which just happened to be a new soccer franchise starting up in the city. Alarm bells were ringing in my head; this was far too much of a coincidence.
I just so happened to be working for a soccer team that was looking for new players and I had a stepbrother who was a soccer player. Just a couple of days into the job my worst fears were confirmed; I’d not been hired for my abilities or even for my Harvard degree. I’d been hired for my relationship with Jaxon.