Stepbrother Commands (His Twisted Game, Book Seven)

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Stepbrother Commands (His Twisted Game, Book Seven) Page 2

by Hawk, Chloe


  I had no idea what she was talking about, but I saw the change on Cole’s face. He went from listening intently to being concerned, a furrow appearing in the middle of his forehead.

  “Are you sure he was serious?” he asked.

  “He sounded serious.” Lucy bit her bottom lip again, then reached out and put her hand on Cole’s forearm, bare skin against bare skin. I remembered the two of them, how they’d looked earlier at that photo shoot, his arms wrapped around her slim waist, her head tilted back as she laughed. They looked like something out of a fashion spread, and I felt jealousy, bright and green, flow hard through my veins, so vehemently it felt like I was on fire.

  “Fuck,” Cole swore under his breath.

  Lucy’s hand was still on his arm, and Cole didn’t make any move to pull away.

  “Are you okay?” Lucy whispered, like she didn’t want anyone to hear what she was saying. But it was more than that. It wasn’t that she was just trying to keep me from hearing what they were saying. Her tone sounded practiced, almost like she’d honed the perfect way to calm Cole down. She was standing so close to him that when she tipped her head down, her long curls fell against his forearm.

  I hovered in the background, feeling completely out of place. I wasn’t sure what they were talking about or what was going on. All I knew was that Lucy was the one comforting the man I was falling in love with.

  “I’m fine,” Cole said. He stood up and I watched as whatever stress and tension had been on his face transformed into steely determination. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Of course,” Lucy said. She glanced over at me and gave me an apologetic smile, like she was trying to tell me she was sorry for honing in on my family time with my brother.

  I wondered what she would think if she knew what Cole and I had just done in that hot tub, how he had a picture of me in his phone now with my face covered in his cum, how he’d been on top of me on the couch just a moment ago, his cock hard as he sucked and played with my tits.

  I gave her a tight smile.

  “Well, I should go,” she said finally. She took her open bottle of water and set it back in the fridge, like she was going to be back for it later.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Cole said. He was halfway out the door before he stopped and came back into the room. He grabbed the papers he’d taken from Gordon’s office, shoved them into his back pocket and then walked back toward Lucy.

  The two of them disappeared through the door of the suite.

  As soon as they were gone, I crossed the room to the kitchen, pulled Lucy’s bottle of water out of the refrigerator and dropped it into the garbage.

  Somehow, it made me feel better.

  But only for a minute.

  Because it soon became clear that Cole wasn’t coming back.

  Five minutes passed.

  Then ten.

  It should have taken him three minutes at most to walk Lucy downstairs, maybe another minute to put her in a cab and send her home.

  Twenty minutes.

  My mind started knotting up with jealousy and theories, imagining the two of them talking it out, making up. His hands in her hair, running over her body, which was tight and toned and everything mine wasn’t.

  She’s having a hard time with the break up.

  An hour later, just as I was about to go completely insane, Cole finally returned.

  He didn’t say anything, instead just crossed over to the sitting area and picked up our plates of uneaten food. “Do you want any of this?” he barked.

  My stomach rumbled. I was starving, but eating anything right now seemed impossible. I shook my head.

  He dumped the food into the garbage.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked quietly.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “You were just… you were gone a long time.” I twisted my hands in my lap, hating that I felt this way, hating that I was jealous of my stepbrother’s ex-fiancé.

  He didn’t answer me.

  “Is Lucy okay?”

  “Yes.”

  I was sick of the one-word answers, sick of the way he would just shut down completely whenever I questioned him about anything.

  “Is that all you have to say?” I asked.

  “Was there something else you wanted to ask me?”

  “Yeah, actually, there is,” I said, starting to get angry now. I got up from where I was sitting on the bed and crossed my arms over my chest, ready to do battle. “What’s going on with you and Lucy?”

  “What’s going on with us?”

  “Yes,” I said. “You were gone for an hour. Where were you?”

  “I took her home.”

  “You took her home?”

  “Yes, Avery. I ordered her a car, and then I took it home with her. She wanted to talk.” He moved past me and began turning off the lights in the suite, flipping switches one by one, causing darkness to settle over the room in waves.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting ready for bed.”

  “You’re going to sleep now?”

  “Yes, Avery, I’m going to sleep now. In two hours I have to be at work. In two hours I have to deal with the mess you created by meeting with Jeffrey Adams after I specifically told you not to.”

  My jaw dropped. “The mess I created?”

  “Yes. How do you think Jeffrey knew we were planning to launch a paid section for our app and then decided to do it before we could?”

  My blood ran cold. “Because he got my phone and gained access to your network.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Cole didn’t say anything. Instead, he disappeared into the bathroom, pulling the curtain that encircled it, effectively shutting me out.

  I felt sick.

  To think that I had anything to do with Cole’s company being in trouble flooded me with guilt and regret.

  I heard the sound of the water running, and then a second later Cole came back out of the bathroom.

  He was wearing just his boxers, his muscular frame on display. I let my eyes wander over his body, remembering how he’d been touching me just a little while ago, the look in his eyes as his hands explored my body.

  He got into bed, reached over and turned off the light on the nightstand.

  I hesitated for a moment then slid into bed next to him.

  I glanced over at him, but his back was to me. I thought maybe he would reach for me, that maybe he would pull me close and tell me it was okay, that he didn’t blame me for what had happened.

  I imagined him stripping me naked, sliding his cock inside of me nice and slow, the way he’d done before when we were lying in my old room in New Jersey. I hated that he was so hot and cold, hated that he wouldn’t let me in.

  I tossed and turned, not able to get comfortable.

  The room felt too hot, like the heat had been turned up high and wouldn’t shut off. I didn’t dare get up and check the thermostat. Instead I kicked the covers off, but it didn’t help.

  Finally I fell into a fitful sleep, the kind of sleep that didn’t feel like real sleep, the kind of sleep that made you feel as if you’d just opened your eyes no matter how long you’d been out.

  When I woke, the clock next to the bed said it was 8:07 am.

  The blinds had been cracked and sunlight streamed into the room in narrow strips.

  I looked at the spot next to me on the bed.

  Cole was gone.

  I laid there for a moment, not sure what to do.

  Did he expect me to go to work today? Was I fired? The room, which had felt like a burning furnace last night, now felt cold. I grabbed the blankets and wrapped them around my body in an effort to warm up as I tried to work out what to do.

  The room was eerily quiet. Last night it had seemed sophisticated and modern, all clean lines and sleek furniture. But now it felt empty and still, the kind of room that nobody really lived in, the kind of room you just came to when you had nowhere else to go.

  I’d felt so special
last night, with Cole bringing me here, doing what he did to me in the hot tub. Now I just felt confused and sad.

  I reached over and grabbed the remote off the bedside table, hoping the sound of the television would drown out some of the loneliness that permeated the room. The television was tuned to CNBC, and I gasped as a picture of Cole flashed across the screen.

  “… have plagued the company recently, including an announcement from the rival MatchMe app this morning that they would be monetizing their subscription numbers through paid plans, leaving some investors wary of buying into the Buchanan Enterprises stock. And with news of Cole Buchanan’s arrest for assault on a police officer last night, these fears are only becoming more real. In the bond market…”

  The perky blonde on the TV droned on about something else, and the photo on the screen switched.

  I remembered something I’d heard about Cole’s company once, on one of those long, lonely nights after he’d left. I’d been up in my room, googling his name, and there’d been an article about how Cole’s dating app had millions of subscribers, and yet there didn’t seem to be a clear plan on how to monetize it. Cole must have been planning to add more features to his app for paid subscribers in an effort to create revenue. And it seemed as if Jeffrey had beaten him to it.

  And it’s all your fault, a voice in my head whispered.

  The phone on the nightstand rang then, the shrill sound piercing the air.

  I hesitated for a moment, not sure if I should answer.

  This was Cole’s room. Whoever was calling would most certainly be calling for him.

  Unless it was Cole.

  I answered.

  “Hello?” My voice sounded scratchy and thick with sleep, and I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Buchanan?” a brisk voice asked.

  “Yes, this is she.”

  “This is Carla Lott, from reception at Buchanan Enterprises. Mr. Buchanan requests a meeting with you in his office, today at ten o’clock.”

  “Oh.” My mouth went dry. It sounded so official. Why wasn’t Cole calling me himself? Was he getting ready to fire me and send me on my way? Was he having the receptionist call me because he didn’t want me to ask questions?

  “Shall I confirm?” the receptionist asked. Her tone was pleasant, but there was a tiny current of impatience right woven under the surface.

  “Yes.” I did my best to match her professional tone. “You can tell Mr. Buchanan he can expect me at ten o’clock.”

  I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

  Whatever Cole wanted with me, I’d find out soon enough.

  **

  At 9:55, I breezed into Cole’s building, my new employee badge giving me access to the elevators without having to go through security. When I got to his floor, it was exactly ten o’clock.

  As I passed the reception desk, I gave the receptionist – a new woman I’d never seen before-a nod. She must have somehow known who I was, because she let me pass by without questions.

  The hallways of Buchanan Enterprises were suspiciously quiet, and I wondered if everyone was on edge because of what had happened with Jeffrey and with Cole’s arrest. I paused outside of Cole’s office door, wondering if I should have told the receptionist to ask him if he was ready to see me.

  That’s silly, I told myself. You work here. And he’s expecting you.

  I knocked on the door, but the knock hardly made a sound. I swallowed and tried again. This time it was almost too loud.

  “Come in,” Cole said.

  I opened the door.

  He was standing by his desk, his back to me, looking out across the city.

  I stepped inside and shut the door behind me.

  He didn’t turn around.

  Instead, he just stood there, making me wait. The silence permeated the room, thick and dripping with meaning. Was this some kind of game he was playing? Wanting me to talk first? Or was he buying time, because he was dreading the fact that he was going to have to fire me?

  I decided I was in no position to be coy.

  “You wanted to see me?” I asked.

  He turned, his brow furrowing as he saw what I was wearing. It was a pair of jeans and a black sweater. All of the clothes Kalia had bought me had been ruined in his apartment, and the only things I’d had in the hotel room were the things I’d taken from our house in Jersey. I didn’t have anything that was appropriate for work.

  “I’m sorry about the way I’m dressed,” I said, thrusting my chin in the air and pretending it didn’t bother me. “All of my clothes were at your apartment.”

  He didn’t say anything, just let his eyes slide up and down my body again before turning back around to look out the window.

  I waited, not saying anything, until finally Cole turned around and walked toward me. He was sexy as all hell, looking nothing like a man who’d only had a few hours of sleep after being involved in an altercation with the police. Instead, he looked commanding, in control, his hair perfectly styled and his eyes bright. He’d shaved since last night, and his face and jaw were smooth, his skin flawless. I resisted the urge to reach up and touch my face where he’d rubbed it raw last night with his stubble while he kissed me.

  I flushed as he pushed his body up against mine, pinning me against the door.

  His lips were centimeters from mine, so close I could almost feel the electricity that radiated between us, binding us together.

  I closed my eyes, my chest heaving and my heart pounding as I waited for his kiss.

  But he didn’t kiss me.

  Instead, I heard the click of the lock as he reached behind me and locked the door.

  My eyes opened.

  He was staring at me, his blue eyes icy hot.

  “There are clothes for you in the bathroom.”

  “What?”

  “There is an outfit for you in the bathroom. Please go change.”

  “Oh.” I swallowed. “Okay.”

  He was still standing in front of me, still pinning me up against the door. I had to brush my chest against his to move away from him. His chest was hard, like stone, and I bit my lip at the rush of longing and want that overwhelmed my body.

  When I got to the bathroom, I shut the door behind me and took a deep breath.

  Hanging on the back of the door was a dry cleaner bag, and inside was an outfit – a black skirt, a button-up white shirt, a lacey black push-up bra, a thong, and a pair of black stilettos. I ran my hand over the luxurious materials, wondering if Cole had picked them out himself.

  I changed quickly, putting the outfit on and sliding into the shoes. I regarded myself in the mirror. Again, the clothes were a bit too small. While on the hanger they looked like they would be perfect for an office, on me they seemed a little too revealing. The shirt clung to my breasts, causing tiny gap to appear between the second and third buttons. The skirt was beautifully cut on a diagonal with a slit up the back – but it hit just above my knee. And the shoes, while expensive Loubotins made of black leather that felt like butter on my feet, were five inches high and made the skirt seem even shorter than it was.

  There were no stockings, no pantyhose, no tights. Wearing something on my legs had always seemed old-fashioned to me on the rare occasions I had to dress up, so I never had. But now I longed to be covered up.

  I sighed and stepped back into Cole’s office.

  He was standing at his desk, looking down at some documents.

  He looked up at me, and I expected him to tell me that what I had on was completely inappropriate, that I needed to change back into my jeans and sweater, or head out and find something else to wear.

  But instead he dropped the papers he was holding onto his desk.

  “Please stand in the corner, Avery.”

  “What?” I asked, yanking at the bottom of my skirt.

  “Go. Stand. In. The. Corner.”

  His voice was so commanding, so full of decisiveness that I found myself walking over to the corne
r. He watched me, his eyes following my path to make sure I obeyed him.

  All the silence and staring was beginning to put me on edge. The first shiver of anticipation slid up my spine as I realized this wasn’t a meeting about work at all. This was something else.

  Cole crossed the room in long strides until he was standing right in front of me, just like he’d done a few moments ago in front of his office door. He reached down and began unbuttoning my shirt, starting from the bottom, his fingers deft and controlled. His eyes stayed on mine, and my breath snagged in my chest.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Shh.” The side of his mouth twitched up into a half-grin, making it clear that he was enjoying this, that he loved being in control of me.

  When he was done unbuttoning my whole shirt, he grabbed the two halves of it and tied them together right under my breasts. The tightening of the fabric right at the band of my bra pushed my tits together, forcing them to swell out of their cups.

  “Cole –”

  “Quiet.” His tone was more stern this time, more commanding. He pressed a finger against my lips, then slid it down over my chin, over my collarbone, down over the swell of my breasts. His touch felt like a torch against my skin, blazing a searing trail across my body.

  When he got to my waist, he slid both hands up under my skirt, rubbing my butt cheeks roughly before grabbing the sides of my panties. He pulled them down, sliding them over my thighs and down over my ankles.

  “Lift up your feet,” he growled, and I lifted them up, one by one, as he removed my thong. He stood back up and slipped it into his pocket.

  “Do you know what almost cost me?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  “What?” I asked, startled.

  “When you met with Jeffrey and he stole your phone. Do you know what that almost cost me?”

  I shook my head. His hands were moving over my neck, pushing my hair off my shoulders, and his touch on my bare skin was distracting.

  “You shouldn’t defy me,” he said huskily.

  Then he grabbed the cups of my bra and pulled them down roughly so that my breasts popped out. A quick second later, he hiked up my skirt, so that my pussy was also exposed.

  I went to push my skirt back down, but he grabbed my wrists. “No,” he breathed into my ear, so close that breath tickled my skin. “My rules.”

 

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