by B. B. Hamel
“Your mom’s assistant. You don’t remember meeting her earlier?”
I shook my head, bemused. “Nope. Not at all.”
“Her name is Madison, and I’m pretty sure she saw us kissing.”
I raised my eyebrow at Alex. “I doubt that.”
“You asshole,” she hissed and smacked my arm. “You can’t just kiss me whenever you want to.”
“I think you kissed me, sis.”
“Oh my god. Don’t call me that. Not right now.” She walked away, breathing deeply. “What the fuck am I doing?” she said to herself.
“Don’t get too twisted. There’s no way she saw anything. It’s too dark out here.”
Alex turned back toward me. “Whatever. What do you even care? You don’t care about anything but yourself.”
I narrowed my eyes, frowning. “Okay. Sure.”
She sighed. “Let’s get back to the dinner.”
“If that’s what you want, that’s fine with me.”
She stormed off without another word, back toward the stairwell.
I watched her go and picked up the bottle she had left behind. I took a deep swig, sighing to myself.
The girl was a damn pain in my ass. One second she was practically begging for it, and the next she was storming off like I fucking grew a second head.
Still, that fucking kiss. It was unreal. Never before in my life had I felt something hit me like that. Her taste, her body, it all mingled in my brain like a shot of crack straight to my gray matter.
I took another swig, hard as fuck. I needed to gather myself before I rejoined the boring-as-hell party downstairs.
That girl was a problem. Although I told Alex that she hadn’t seen anything, I wasn’t so sure. I resolved to look into that Madison girl a little bit, find out if she harbored any grudges against my mother.
Knowing Cindy, though, I was willing to bet poor Madison had a laundry list of complaints.
Erection subsided, I walked down the steps and rejoined the festivities. Dinner was being served finally, and Alex was deep in conversation with her dad and another older gentleman. I deposited the bottle back at the bar, giving the barman a little grin, and returned to my seat next to my stepsister.
Actually, next to my wife.
The night after that was a blur of formalities. I said hello to whoever my mother introduced me to, and I smiled nicely at everyone else. I was on my best behavior, not bothering to act like a pain in the ass.
Finally, people began to filter out of the hall. Alex wasn’t speaking to me, but she wasn’t exactly ignoring me, either. That was fine; I was drained and didn’t feel like playing games, anyway.
But as soon as we got out into the parking lot, a disheveled-looking man approach us. At first I tensed, ready to fight him off, assuming he was a mugger. But quickly I realized that he was holding a camera, not a gun.
“Cole Redson? Alexa Carter?” Alexa stopped and stared at him.
I grabbed her elbow and pulled her along. “What the hell?” she hissed at me.
“Reporter,” I answered.
“What do you think about your parents’ marriage?” he called out, taking pictures. “Are you aware of the allegations against them?”
“No comment,” I growled at the guy.
People were staring as I hauled Alexa behind me. I noticed two big dudes in suits and earpieces walking toward us.
“Cole, do you think your mother is a cold, careerist bitch?”
I stopped dead in my tracks and let go of Alexa’s arm.
“What did you say?” I asked the guy.
“Do you think your mother is using Alexa’s father for success?”
“Before that,” I growled.
“Is your mother a cold bitch?” he asked, sneering at me.
I stepped forward and swung my fist faster than he could think. I struck him directly in the jaw, clattering his teeth. He dropped like I had pressed the off switch on a robot.
Alexa gasped. The two security guys showed up just in time.
“Are you okay, sir?” the one asked me.
“Fine,” I said, turning away. “Come on,” I said to Alexa, grabbing her again.
“Is he okay?” she asked.
“Fuck him.”
We got into the car and I started the engine. Alexa was staring at me, wide-eyed, obviously shocked by what I had just done. I knew that shit was going to be in the papers tomorrow, or maybe just the tabloids if I was lucky. Maybe even I was going to have some charges pressed against me.
“Why would you do that?” Alexa asked as I pulled out into traffic.
“My mother may be a bitch,” I said, “but only I get to say so.”
She stared at me for a second and then burst out laughing, shaking her head.
I couldn’t help but grin myself, and I laughed along with her.
We sped back toward her dad’s house, moving through the night.
7
Alexa
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone on the third ring.
“Hey. It’s me.”
“Hi, Lace. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She paused. “Just embarrassed.”
“About the other night?”
“Yeah.”
“I was wondering why you hadn’t called already.”
I rolled over onto my back and looked up at the ceiling of my bedroom. I was happy that Lacey had called me, even though it was still pretty early in the morning, because I’d been dying to tell her all about what had happened with Cole and me on the roof of the banquet hall.
“I’m really sorry about that, Alex. I don’t normally let myself get like that.”
It was true. Despite her confidence, her outgoing nature, Lacey very rarely got too drunk. Sure, she went home with guys from time to time, but that was just because she knew what she wanted and she went for it. She rarely made those decisions based on how much alcohol she’d had to drink.
I envied that about her. She had confidence, something I was lacking sometimes.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You should probably be apologizing to Cole, though.”
“Oh god. Don’t remind me.” I could practically hear her cringing on the other end.
“He threw you over his shoulder and dragged you out of there,” I said, laughing.
“Seriously, Al. I’m going to cry.”
I laughed louder, grinning. I could imagine the look on her face, and although I didn’t want my friend to be upset, it was just too funny.
“Don’t worry about it. He’s definitely not thinking about you right now.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“Something happened.”
Instantly I felt the conversation shift. “Tell me. Now.”
“Well, we went to one of those dinner things with our parents last night, right?”
“How did he look?”
“Good. I mean, really good. That’s not the point.”
“Cole in a tux. Shit, I think I just made myself hard.”
“What?”
“Lady boner. You get it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, he wasn’t into it, and I guess I was pretty bored too. So we snuck out.”
“Snuck out? This is getting good.”
“Hold on. Listen. So, anyway, he takes me out this emergency exit and up a staircase to the roof.”
“How romantic.”
“Yeah, well, he had a bottle of whisky.”
“Where’d he get it?”
“Stole it, I guess.”
She laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“Why, because he’s an immature moron?”
“No, because he seems to do whatever he wants. It’s an attractive quality in a man, you know.”
“Whatever. There’s nothing attractive about him.”
“Sure, Al. So what did you guys do on the roof, have some deep talk?”
“At first, yeah. I mean, the view was gorgeous, and the weather was perfect. The whisky was gross, but I had
some anyway.”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“Lace, he kissed me.”
There was a pause. “Seriously?”
“I mean, yeah, and I kissed him back—for like half a second, but it was a really intense kiss.”
Lacey exploded. She began talking fast, a flurry of emotions pouring out of her. At first she was all, “what are you doing are you stupid he’s your stepbrother,” but that quickly turned into, “he’s also your husband and actually really damn hot so I guess I get it,” and finally she finished with, “I knew it, I knew you would, you dirty girl, did you guys bang? I would hit that in a second, you have to tell me everything.”
It was an emotionally intense ten seconds.
“Are you done?” I cut in.
“Okay, yeah. I just can’t believe you!”
“I know. It’s so stupid. So, so stupid. Like, I want to divorce this guy, get my life back on track. I can’t be making out with him.”
“I mean, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like you guys didn’t bone already.”
My eyes widened. “Lacey, we did not have sex.”
Lacey laughed. “Come on, Al. I know you guys definitely had sex on vacation.”
“Seriously,” I said forcefully, surprised. “We didn’t have sex. I thought I told you that? We did pretty much everything else imaginable, but we just never had sex.”
She was silent for a second. “You have to be lying.”
“I’m not lying. I’m dead serious.”
“But you said it was the most intense night of your life? After the fake wedding?”
“It was, but we never actually had sex.”
“I don’t get it. It’s not like you were a virgin.”
“I know! But he made me feel . . . things, stuff Bobby didn’t do.”
Bobby was my college boyfriend and the second guy I had ever slept with. I had thought sex with him was pretty good until I learned Bobby didn’t know anything about the human anatomy compared to Cole. Bobby and I had broken up three months before I’d left for Thailand after I caught him sending nudes to some girl he met on Tinder, the scumbag. I barely ever thought about Bobby anymore.
“Holy crap. It was that intense and you didn’t actually have sex?”
“Yeah, absolutely no sex.” I paused, sighing, as the memories of that night came back to me. Cole’s fingers, his mouth, his hands, they all made me squirm and come again and again. But for some reason I hadn’t been able to sleep with him, couldn’t let myself have sex. “You see the problem now?” I asked.
“Yeah. I really, really do.”
We were both quiet as the truth sank in.
I hadn’t had sex with Cole in Thailand, but we had done plenty of other things. He’d made me feel more with just his mouth than Bobby had made me feel in our entire relationship. Cole was a man unlike any I had ever met before, and he seemed to just intuitively know exactly what would drive me crazy. And I had kissed him again, letting all those feeling come flooding back inside me.
“What are you going to do now?” Lacey asked.
“I don’t know, honestly. He’s my stepbrother.”
She snorted. “Stepbrother doesn’t mean anything. He’s not actually related to you or anything. Plus, you two were married first.”
“That’s true. But I can’t tell if that makes it better or not.”
“Probably not. Still, he’s your husband.”
“He is not my husband.”
“Whatever. I’m just looking out for you. If you’re into it, I say go for it.”
“It’s not that simple. Our parents are under some crazy scrutiny. Cole knocked out a reporter last night.”
“Before or after you made out?”
“After.”
“How did that even happen?”
“Guy came out of nowhere, taking pictures. Cole just . . . acted.”
Lacey whistled. “What a guy.”
“It was scary.”
“I bet it was. But also a little hot?”
“No! No way.”
“Oh come on, we both know Cole is sexy as hell.”
“He has his moments.”
“And how’s his piece?”
“Excuse me?”
“His piece. His man-meat. His schlong. His ding-a-ling. His—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.”
“Well?”
“Cut it out. I’m not describing his wiener.”
I thought back to those nights, to his thick, large cock in my hand, to the way he grunted as I slipped it between my lips, to the warmth of his cum as he shot it deep into my throat. I felt a rush run through me as my cheeks turned red.
“Oh just tell me. Big or little? Thick? Curved? Pierced?”
“Not happening.”
“C’mon. Yes or no, is he huge?”
“I am not describing Cole’s penis!” I yelled loudly, embarrassed. The sound practically echoed through my empty room.
We were both quiet for a second.
“I gotta go,” I said quickly. “I think he’s home and his room is right next door.”
I hung up the phone as she began to laugh.
I wrapped myself in my blankets and tried to pretend like I hadn’t just yelled loudly about Cole’s penis. The walls in Dad’s house were super thin, so there was no way he hadn’t heard that. I could only imagine what pervy, frustrating things he was thinking over there.
It wasn’t like I was obsessed with him. Maybe he made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever, but still. He was abrasive and cocky and everything I hated in a guy. I didn’t like violence, and Cole’s life was all about violence. I didn’t like recklessness, and Cole was reckless.
Still, driving in that fast car with him, threading our way toward the banquet venue, I’d felt alive.
Lacey could be so pushy sometimes, but I knew she meant well. She was a good friend and always supportive. Still, I wasn’t really comfortable enough with anyone to describe Cole’s penis, even if that wasn’t a dick move.
As I contemplated all of the awkward and horrifying ramifications of that conversation, I heard my father’s voice from downstairs.
“Alexa? Cole?”
I got out of bed and poked my head out of my room. “Yeah?”
“Can you come down here?”
Cole came out of his own room and smirked at me. “Hey, sis.”
“Hi, Cole.” I started walking down the steps.
“Fun time last night.”
“It was okay.”
“You should describe to me exactly how much fun you had.”
I turned bright red but didn’t look at him. “That’s okay. I don’t feel like grossing you out.”
He was right behind me as we marched downstairs. I could practically feel his heat pressing up against my back.
“If that assistant hadn’t shown up, we both know that I would have made you come, screaming for more up on that roof.”
“Knock it off. My dad is right downstairs.”
He grabbed my arm, pulling me against his hard body. “I’ll stop if you admit that you wanted me to keep going.” We were pressed together in the stairwell, in the small, cramped space.
I bit my lip, breathing heavily as his warmth and touch flooded my body. “I was drunk and stupid,” I lied.
“So you admit it.”
“Fine. It was a mistake though.”
“Good enough.” He let me go, and I wished that he hadn’t.
I started back down the steps and he followed me quietly. I was so embarrassed, and I could practically feel his triumphant smile boring a hole into my ass. I hated that I wanted him, and I hated that he knew it.
Once downstairs, we found our parents sitting together in the kitchen. It was almost creepy, and I felt like a little kid about to be punished.
“Uh oh,” Cole said. “Who died?”
“Please, sit,” Cindy said.
I sat down and gave my Dad a look. He just smiled and shru
gged.
“I bet I know what this is about,” Cole said.
“The reporter.”
Cole nodded. “He survived?”
“He’s fine, thankfully.”
“Pressing charges?”
“No.”
Cole laughed out loud. “How’d you manage that one?”
“Not your concern.”
“Sure it is, Mother. What did you bribe him with?”
“Nothing,” Frank cut in. “We’ve had trouble with him in the past. We simply told him that if he pressed charges, so would we.”
Cole nodded. “Threats then. They work on spineless dickbags like him.”
“Cole, enough,” Cindy said sharply. “This isn’t funny. You assaulted a man.”
“Yes, I did,” Cole said.
“That’s unacceptable, totally unacceptable.”
“I guess so.”
“You embarrassed me.”
“Not sure that bothers me, honestly.”
“Cole, please,” Dad cut in. “Your mother is worried.”
“Worried?” Cole said, smirking. “Sure, she’s worried about her career.”
“Enough,” Cindy said, slamming her hand down on the countertop. The whole room looked at her, surprised. I had never seen an ounce of strong emotion in her before, but suddenly she looked very, very angry. “You have embarrassed me time and time again, Cole. I want you to leave.”
He stared at her hard for a second and then smiled. “Kicking me out already?”
“Yes. Please pack and leave by tomorrow.”
Dad looked away, unable to meet my eye. I was completely taken aback and shocked by the fact that Cindy was so callously throwing her son out on the street. It seemed almost like it was no big deal, but it seemed incredibly absurd. She was making such a big decision without even talking to anyone about it.
“Wait,” I said. “Don’t you know why he did it?”
“Don’t bother,” Cole said. “She doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. This is just an excuse to get rid of me.”
He stood up.
“Wait,” I said to Cole, and then I turned back toward Cindy. “He punched that guy because he called you a bitch.”
Cindy raised an eyebrow. “Is that true, Cole?”
“It’s true. Only I get to call you that.”
She was quiet for a second. “Thank you for defending my honor, but unfortunately this isn’t feudal England. You can’t just punch people whenever you feel like it.”