by Ophelia Bell
Betraying
Benjamin
Ophelia Bell
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Books by Ophelia Bell
About Ophelia Bell
***
Chapter 1
I used to think I knew what great sex felt like. I’d had plenty of it in my twenty-two years, with a variety of partners. Mostly men, but when you’re a horny college girl, sometimes experimentation can be its own reward. It had all been pretty fantastic, as far as I knew. I enjoyed it enough, but nothing had ever really blown my mind.
That is, until I hooked up with my stepbrother, Ben, and his hot athlete of a lover, Andre. The first night we were together surprised me. Not only because that was the night my irritating asshole stepbrother confessed his undying love for me. It was also the night I learned how fantastic sex could be when you were falling head over heels for someone.
Ben and I had never been particularly close, unless you counted our mutual goal of tormenting each other with crude insults and mean jokes throughout our lives. I was too much of an angry outcast and he was too much of a pretty boy jock. We’d been at each other’s throats since our parents married when we were both twelve years old. I suppose love and hate are just two sides of the same coin, though, and that first night was when Ben made a different call on the flip. And somehow we both came up winners.
Andre was a happy bonus, really, but he had also been the choreographer that night. I don’t think the night would have gone as spectacularly as it had if he hadn’t been involved, urging Ben to come clean and tell me how he really felt.
In the end we all ended up together, happily shacking up in Andre’s swank apartment in one of the richer parts of town, not far from where our parents lived.
Of course our parents were none the wiser. My stepmother’s reaction would have been bad enough if she knew that I was regularly getting fucked by a large black man. She likely would have had an aneurysm had she discovered I was also screwing her beautiful, perfect son on a nightly basis.
And I absolutely loved every mindblowingly orgasmic moment of it.
Chapter 2
“Come for me baby, that’s right,” Andre’s deep murmur sank into my ear over the sound of the shower streaming down around us. His voice seemed to burrow straight to my clit. My hips twitched, pressing my needy snatch tighter against Ben’s mouth as he knelt between my legs. Andre tweaked one nipple, then swirled soapy fingertips around it before cupping my breast and squeezing. It was incredibly difficult not to fly apart, with two fingers of Andre’s other hand sunk deep in my ass while Ben’s tongue lapped at my pussy with quick, perfectly targeted sweeps. Close … so close. They’d gotten theirs before we got into the shower, and now it was my turn finally. And boy was this orgasm going to be good.
I tilted my head back against Andre’s shoulder and let my hand rest on Ben’s wet head. One of his hands gripped my hips while the other held my right thigh steady where it draped over his shoulder. I grew weak from the pleasure and relinquished my body to their touch, relishing the slow build of pleasure that accumulated between my thighs.
The door buzzer sounded loudly from the front of the apartment. Ben jerked his head back in surprise, his eyes wide with alarm.
“Fuck!” he yelled, coming to his senses while I stood there, too addled from ecstasy to even register why he was so upset. He launched himself out of the shower and sprinted out the door, pausing only to grab a towel on the way.
“Ben! You fucker, get back here! I’m not finished!”
“No worries, baby, I’ve got you covered,” Andre said. He rinsed the hand off that had been teasing at my breasts and slid his arm down my torso like a python, sinking his fingers into me from the front while the fingers of his other hand still worked in and out of my ass.
Then it hit me like splash of icy water. There was only one reason Ben would have moved that fast to get the door.
“Fuck!” I yelled, echoing Ben’s earlier outburst. I groaned and pushed Andre’s hands away, hurriedly rinsed, and darted out of the shower.
“Suit yourself,” Andre said. He turned the hot water up and stood beneath the steaming showerhead while I grabbed a towel and ran after Ben, leaving another pair of wet footprints across the wood floor of the master bedroom the three of us shared.
Ben was already dressed and gone, and I heard two voices from the front room. Ben’s was clear, his tone slightly high pitched the way it would get when he was stressed out. The other voice was the familiar haughty, affected lilt of my stepmother. I peeked out the bedroom door, but neither of them were in sight, so I took a chance and sprinted across the hallway to the guest room where I kept the majority of my things. There were three bedrooms and bathrooms in the apartment, but only the master was ever used. With its king-sized bed, cushy furniture, and ample floor space, it was ideal for the kinds of fun the three of us preferred to have on a regular basis.
Linette didn’t need to be clued in to our arrangement, however. I had a vivid image in my mind of the horrified, disgusted look she would give me if she saw me exiting the bedroom she already knew belonged to the swarthy, athletic owner of the apartment Ben and I supposedly sublet.
What she didn’t know was that Andre refused to accept rent from us. His dad had been some rich, hotshot pro football player who died of cancer a few years earlier and left Andre his entire fortune. Andre had told us once that before his dad died, he’d said his only wish for Andre was that he find love and hold onto it like his life depended on it. I think that was one of his ways to try to hold onto us, but he didn’t really need to try that hard. We weren’t going anywhere, even if he charged us rent to live with him.
So instead of paying rent, Ben and I had secretly pooled our college housing allowance into a joint savings account, “for a rainy day” as Ben said. I loved him for his little schemes now as much as I used to hate him for them when we were growing up.
I was still half dressed and in the middle of plaiting my long, wet hair into a neat, thick braid when Ben popped his own head through my door without knocking.
“Get a move on, Kat. She’s got reservations at that pretentious cafe she loves so much.”
I shot an irritated look at him. “You’re an asshole, Ben. I didn’t even know she was coming. When did you plan on telling me?”
“I did tell you. Three days ago when we were out.”
“You mean when I was three sheets to the wind and the two of you were busy going down on me in the ladies room at the club?”
“Just before that,” he said.
I snorted and threw my hairbrush at him, then began to shoot a successive volley of elastic hair ties toward his head. He laughed and shut the door to ward off my attack.
I hurriedly threw on some makeup and took a second to survey myself in the mirror. Linette would at least be pleased that I chose to wear a pretty, girly sundress and had my hair up. Hopefully that would appease her after having to wait.
After slipping on a pair of strappy, stacked-heel shoes I knew she’d also approve of more than my usual dark leather boots, I sauntered into the living room and smiled sunnily at the older woman who sat in a fake relaxed posture on our dark leather sofa.
“Mom! Ben forgot to tell me we had a date. What a great surprise!”
She probably knew I was full of shit, especially because I never called her “Mom” unless I was lying to her, but she liked it when I made an effort to keep up appearances. Even though she’d attempted to raise me and be a good maternal figure for the last ten years, she and I had nev
er managed to find any common ground outside of loving my dad. I mentally edited that thought to include Ben, too. At least within the last few months my feelings toward Ben had done a one-eighty, which I think pleased her to no end. It also pleased me that she had no clue about the true nature of my “love” for Ben, or his for me.
She returned my fake smile with one of her own and stood to hug me.
As I was about to step toward her and accept her embrace, a sharp smack hit my backside and I jumped.
Andre’s deep voice whispered in my ear, “I’ll make sure you don’t go hungry tonight, Kitty Kat, if you promise not to run away.” In a louder voice, he said, “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Farrell. I wish I could join you for breakfast, but practice calls.”
My face heated in response and my ass tingled pleasantly under his palm, which he had the audacity to leave there for the next few seconds while he offered his other hand in greeting to Linette. I hoped like hell Linette couldn’t see Andre groping me, but I had no doubt she’d heard the smack from the way her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed briefly into a tight line.
She recovered quickly and accepted his offered hand, but the set of her mouth made her distaste very apparent. I think if Andre hadn’t been loaded and the owner of the apartment we shared, she’d have probably railed against us even being friends with the guy, much less living with him. My stuck up WASP of a stepmother wasn’t the most enlightened individual.
With a final little squeeze Andre released my ass cheek. I let out the breath I’d been holding and forced myself not to watch him walk toward the front door with his duffel of gear slung over one huge shoulder. When I glanced back at Linette, her gaze seemed fixed on something in that direction, too. I smiled to myself while I watched her watch Andre’s ass flex under his track pants. Yeah, those solid mounds of muscle were like twin magnets for a woman’s eyes. And many men’s eyes, too, for that matter.
“Mom, are you ready?” Ben asked, a hint of humor in his voice. He and I shared an amused look at her flustered reaction. She regained her composure quickly and nodded. “We may just make it in time for our reservation.”
Chapter 3
Having to endure Linette’s critical eye had always made me feel tiny and insignificant growing up. Yet somehow today none of it seemed to faze me. Perhaps it was the secret Ben and I shared that had finally given me power over the woman. Where I used to believe the two of them both hated me and had it out for me my whole life, now I knew that Ben was actually on my side and had been all along.
Every so often on the way to the restaurant, he would accidentally brush up against me—a fingertip brushing an imagined speck of lint off the shoulder of my thin sweater, or a hand pressed at my lower back as he accompanied me through a door. Each time he touched me, my entire body felt like it was vibrating.
Christ, I was tense. I had desperately needed that orgasm, but now I was trapped, forced to endure a meal with my least favorite person in the world. As if he sensed my tension, Ben briefly grabbed my hand out of view of his mother and squeezed. I let out a small sigh and shot him a smile of gratitude. Yes, he was definitely on my side, and I loved him desperately for that. Almost as much as I wanted to skip this tedious brunch ahead of us and drag him back to bed for the day.
When Linette was dealing with the valet at the restaurant, Ben bent his head to whisper in my ear, “I wish I was having you for breakfast.”
I shot him an irritated look. “You did, you just didn’t clean your plate, you ass.”
He leaned away from me and grinned. “Ooh, someone sounds a little frustrated. Is there anything I can do to help with that, Kat?”
“You can shut up, is what you can do. She’s coming.” Sometimes I wondered if Ben got off on the prospect of getting caught in the act. I’d caught him with Andre that night months ago, and thought I’d finally had something to hold over his head that he couldn’t worm his way out of. That plan had backfired spectacularly, though. Not that I was complaining now.
Yet as sweet and attentive as he’d become since that night, he still had a mischievous streak when it came to me. Some things never changed.
As much as I loved Ben’s attention, it didn’t quite distract me from the rising dread of the true purpose of this outing with Linette. She had the familiar smug look she only got when she was about to fuck with my life. She’d done it several times over the years and I still hadn’t managed to figure out how to avoid her schemes.
After the hostess seated us and our waiter had taken our drink orders, Linette wasted no time on her personal agenda. If there was one thing I’d learned about the woman over the years, she had a reason for every single conversation she had with either me or Ben. I’d known this visit couldn’t possibly be simply to spend time with us. I wasn’t quite prepared for what she offered next. After a preamble so full of bullshit I was afraid she’d offend the other diners, she finally got to the point.
“Katherine, you need to consider your future after college. Benjamin is already on a solid path toward his law degree. But you still seem … aimless. So your father and I have arranged an internship for you with a friend of a colleague of mine. It begins Monday and lasts for the rest of the summer and through the next year until you graduate. We thought it was time for you to gain some hands on experience in your field.”
As she spoke, my fingers began curling into claws against my thighs, nails digging into my skin. I clenched my jaw. Could I get away with clawing the woman’s eyes out in this fancy restaurant? Ben must have sensed my mood shift, because a second later I felt his hand reach under the tablecloth and squeeze my knee gently. Unfortunately this was one situation where his touch didn’t break through my irritation.
“What the fuck did you do Linette?”
She didn’t even bat an eye, the bitch. “Trust me, my dear, this is good for you. So you’ll need to pack tomorrow. Your ticket’s already paid for and an apartment is rented.”
Before I could say anything, Ben piped up. “Mom! You didn’t even ask what she wanted! It’s not fair for you to spring bullshit like this on her. And why the hell isn’t Dad here to tell her himself? Where are you trying to send her anyway?”
“Benjamin, I appreciate the fact that you two have overcome your differences finally after all these years of fighting, but you have to understand we are looking out for your sister’s welfare. This will be a good step for her. She’ll be interning with an old friend of Mitch Campbell’s. It’s a paid internship.”
I was speechless. “Old friend of Mitch Campbell” could only mean one thing. And given my focus of study on economics and political science, that meant they were shipping me to D.C., which was absolutely not part of my personal career plans. Aimless, my ass. Just because Linette didn’t bother to ask what I wanted to do with my life didn’t mean I had no plans to speak of. I couldn’t outright refuse, though. The woman was a devious, manipulative bitch who no doubt had my dad on her side already. I hoped that wasn’t the case but if I said no out of hand, I’d risk having Dad get involved and I couldn’t stand the thought of his disappointment.
Linette gave me a smug look and dabbed a napkin at her lips. “I’ll let you absorb everything for a few moments while I visit the ladies room. I’m sure you understand that this is not negotiable. We pulled a lot of strings for you, dear.”
She stood and sashayed through the dining room of the restaurant, her designer handbag clutched in her manicured talons and flashes of red from the soles of her expensive pumps taunting me like a matador’s cape.
Ben let out a tiny grunt and I realized I’d gripped his hand in mine under the table and now my nails were digging into his flesh instead of my own.
“Calm down, Kat. This can’t be all bad.”
“This is worse than bad, Ben,” I hissed. “Who does that fucking bitch think she is? No wonder Dad isn’t here. He’s probably too fucking embarrassed to have to spring this on me. Fucking coward.”
The internship wasn’t the issue. I’d alrea
dy planned to spend my last two semesters interning in Sacramento and staying somewhat close to home while Ben finished his degree. D.C. was technically an improvement, but the fact that Linette had seen fit to orchestrate the move told me she had some ulterior motive in doing so. That’s what pissed me off—knowing that was the case, but not knowing precisely what she hoped to gain from it.
Ben tugged his hand free of mine and shifted around in his chair so he could face me at an angle. He withdrew his injured hand from my leg and draped that arm along the back of my chair. A moment later, his other hand slipped back beneath the tablecloth and squeezed my thigh. “We’ll figure it out. Call your dad in the morning and see what he can do. In the meantime, I think I know what will help right now.”
“A bourbon?”
He smirked at me and shifted his hand a little higher on my thigh. “Something more potent,” he said in a low voice, his fingers sliding beneath the hem of my dress.
“Jesus, here? She’ll be back any second!”
He just laughed and leaned a little closer. He looked so natural like that. Like we were just having an emotional conversation and he was raptly listening to me. All while his fingertips traced tiny circles up my inner thigh. And oh God did I need him to keep going.
“Mom loves to draw out the torture, you know that as well as I do. I bet I can make you come before she gets back. Even before the waiter brings our food.”
I was only slightly skeptical. The boys had gotten me pretty worked up that morning, and in spite of Linette’s shit bomb, Ben’s touch managed to bring that need back full force. In an attempt to disguise my reaction to him, I leaned an elbow on the table and propped my head on my hand.
“I’ll bet you a blow job later that you can’t,” I countered.
“Sounds good to me, even though I know how much you get off on sucking my cock.”
He was right about that—the very thought made my mouth water. I bit my lip and spread my legs a little wider to give him access. “You name the stakes, then,” I said, already losing track of reality as his fingertips brushed over the crotch of my panties, then pressed and rubbed through the fabric right against my throbbing clit. I glanced furtively around the restaurant, able to see the entire dining room from the relatively isolated corner table we were seated at. We were beside a high window, but the view from outside was obscured by lush foliage.