My grief counselor had told me whenever I got anxious to take deep breaths and visualize something calming. It wasn’t working. The only thing I could visualize was Finn’s condescending smirk, but then I remembered how he held me when I’d cried. That night he’d seemed almost human, like he had a heart, and, surprisingly, my anxiety lessened.
Taking one more deep breath, I strode toward the house. Of course, he wasn’t there to say hello or welcome me with open arms.
The front door was unlocked, at least that was something, and I strolled into the vast foyer, my plastic flip-flops echoing against the black and white tiles. Compared to the heat outside, the house was an icebox and my skin dotted with goose bumps. A double staircase with iron railings ran up either side of the hallway. Why did he need two staircases? One for going up and one for coming down? So dumb.
I continued to saunter through the foyer, through a formal sitting room, and through what I guessed was a TV room—the eighty-inch screen attached to the wall kind of gave it away. The white leather sofa in the middle of the room sure didn’t make me want to curl up to watch the latest episode of Supernatural. The place was pristine. Not an inch of dust. Not a cushion out of place.
The next room I came to was the kitchen, which was as big as the downstairs of the house we grew up in. Lots of fancy stainless steel appliances, marble worktops, and spotless white cupboards. The place was much too modern and clinical. I couldn’t imagine sitting around the table laughing and joking. Heaven forbid I spilled milk from my cereal or got toast crumbs on the floor. The place had no soul which was why it suited my bro—he wasn’t my brother, I had to stop thinking about him as if he were.
A screened-in porch at the back of the kitchen led out to a specular landscaped garden, which from the porch seemed boundless. I’d much rather pitch a tent and camp on the grounds for two weeks than stay inside the house.
The sound of splashing water brought my attention to the pool. There he was swimming back and forth. With every stroke, the afternoon sun glinted off his contoured skin, golden from the sun. His defined arms rose and fell, and the muscles on his smooth back flexed and rippled with every movement. If he wasn’t someone I’d known most of my life, I would have drooled and jumped in there with him. A dull ache pulsed between my thighs and my nipples tightened. What? What the hell was wrong with me? I closed my eyes willing my bizarre reaction to go away. I wasn’t in to him like that…it was just a natural reaction to seeing a half-naked man. Especially a half-naked man with a build like Finn’s. If Clara were here, I would have had her smack me across the face. Thinking about his perfect anatomy and what he looked like naked wasn’t allowed. Besides, Finn was the boy-next-door and probably as vanilla as ice cream when it came to sex. He couldn’t give me what I needed. I doubted I’d find anyone who could.
So far, none of the men in my life had been able to give me what I truly desired. My college boyfriends couldn’t fuck hard enough. Couldn’t deny me release long enough. Couldn’t yank my hair, or spank my ass. Couldn’t control me. They were boys. I needed a man…
I stepped onto the patio and made my way to the pool, and stood there like an idiot scuffing my flip-flops back and forth waiting for him to notice me. When the fingertips of his left hand touched off the pool ledge, he stopped and heaved himself out of the water, smoothing his charcoal hair back from his face. Holy Mother of God. I grabbed onto the back of a chair and clutched it. Water. I needed water. My breasts ached for his big hands, and my panties more than dampened. This wasn’t happening. He was not someone I wanted. He was my arrogant stepbrother and an egotistical jerk who considered me a nuisance. As soon as these two weeks were over, he was out of my life.
Without acknowledging me, he grabbed a towel and dried off his wet body. My tongue flicked out wanting to catch the water dripping from his nipples. I dragged my eyes upward before my gaze traveled any further south. He frowned and rubbed the towel over his hair, and I crossed my arms to hide my hard nipples.
“Took you long enough to get here.”
“I called you to tell you I’d be arriving in thirty minutes.”
“Sometimes you don’t do what you say you will.”
He was being an ass to get a reaction. And no matter how much I warned myself not to react, I didn’t listen. He knew exactly which buttons to press and how hard. “When have I not done something I said I was going to do? When? Tell me. I always do what I’m supposed to do. Always.”
His eyes darkened, and he stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. He wrapped a towel around his sculpted waist without saying a word. Reaching beneath the towel, he took off his swim trunks and threw them to the ground. Naked. Beneath that towel Finn McIntyre was buck naked. My cheeks heated to nuclear levels. What in the hell was going on with me? Giving myself a mental shake, I focused on his face and not on the outline of his obviously big cock.
“Where am I staying and where’s my mom’s stuff?” I asked. “I want to do this as fast as I can.”
“You and me both.” He slipped his feet into a pair of brown Birkenstocks and pointed toward a small cottage a few feet from where we stood. “You’re staying in the pool house.”
“Thanks.” My stomach sank with disappointment. I wasn’t staying in the main house with him, which wasn’t a bad idea since my hormones were throwing a party right now. He stepped toward the patio table and lifted a bottle of water from a small cooler. The heat of his body seeped into mine and the scent of chlorine mixed with his musky cologne enveloped me. I shouldn’t notice how he smelled, the same way I shouldn’t notice how his neck muscles worked when he swallowed, and I definitely shouldn’t notice the fine line of hair running down the center of his abs.
“I already went through my dad’s things and left whatever I think you’d want. You’ll find everything in the garage around back.”
“Garage? Very respectful.”
“It’s climate controlled,” he said not hiding the annoyance from his voice.
“Whatever, I’ll get my stuff.” I made a move to walk away.
“One more thing, Kennedy, I don’t want you going into the basement.”
“Why, got one of your girlfriends tied up down there?” I sucked in a shaky breath. An image of me tied up in front of him flashed through my mind. Jeez! The heat mixed with driving for seventeen hours was doing crazy things to my brain.
His eyes flashed dangerously. “It’s being renovated. I don’t want you getting hurt. Stay on the main floor or in your cottage. The sooner we get this over with the better.”
“Gee! Thanks, big brother. Love you, too.” I tried to stop the crack in my voice, but it was pointless. The asshole really did hate me. A small part of me wished that when he saw me, he’d apologize for being so distant and say he wanted us to be friends. Those things only happened in Lifetime movies, not in the real world.
I turned from him and strode to the house without saying another word. Since he’d already sorted through his dad’s things, there was no need for me to see him, which suited me just fine. I was a thorn in his side, one he couldn’t wait to pull out and throw away.
****
My home for the next few weeks was a lot cozier than the main house. It had squishy brown sofas and a small but modern kitchen. The bedroom held a queen and an ensuite bathroom, which was still four times the size of the closet-sized one I shared with Clara.
By the time, I’d brought in my suitcase and ate dinner it was already getting dark, but the Georgia heat was as muggy as ever. Instead of putting on the air conditioning, I left the door open to enjoy the cicada’s song and the heavenly scent of night-blooming cereus flowers.
Standing by the front door, I glanced up at the McMansion. The downstairs lights were on, and every few minutes a woman’s laughter tinkled over the lawn. Envy twisted my insides. I shouldn’t care. She wouldn’t last long. No matter how much he dated, he never settled down.
The women he screwed were gorgeous, all models or actresses, but after a few
months, sometimes weeks, sometimes days, he broke up with them. The only thing that owned his heart was football. He was thirty-two and had maybe eight more years left on the field. After he retired, he’d probably work as a football pundit on ESPN or something. But he didn’t need to because he had enough money to last three lifetimes. From what Dad had told me, Finn made some smart investments in start-up companies and was close to billionaire status. Big deal. Sure he had a lot of material things and money, but nothing else. No one to come home to, no kids running to grab his legs at the end of the day, no warm body to hold at night.
More laughter drifted over the lawn. The sound was like nails down a chalkboard. I had to find out who she was and what was so freakin’ funny. With my arms crossed, I strode toward the house.
Hiding in the shadows, I stood by an open kitchen window. Two glasses of half-finished red wine sat on a worktop and a woman dressed in lacey lingerie knelt at Finn’s feet. What the actual fuck? There was a leather collar around her neck and Finn, who was dressed head to toe in black, held a leash. My hand flew to my throat, and I sucked in a shocked breath. That was something he was into? My panties flooded and images of him taking me in ways I’d only ever dreamed about flashed across my mind. But…Finn…he was the country’s sweetheart. He ran charities for underprivileged kids. He ran camps for kids who had no other hope of attending one. He wasn’t a Dominant. He wasn’t into the kinds of things I knew I needed, was he?
No. I shook my head. No. No. No.
“Time to go downstairs, Callie,” Finn commanded. The deep, raspy tone of his voice sent shivers twisting up my spine.
Huh? Downstairs? Renovations my ass.
The woman nodded and panted like an obedient puppy. “Yes, Sir.”
Standing, she lowered her head, and Finn led her to the basement. That’s why he didn’t want me in the basement. I was right; he did have a woman tied up down there. I mean, he didn’t have a woman tied up all the time, but he did tie women up down there. My heart thudded so hard, I thought it would hammer right out of my chest. Not knowing what to do, I slumped against the wall to process everything I’d witnessed.
I had to leave. Now. Had to get away before…where could I go? Back to my apartment? It was a seventeen hour drive. If I left now, I might make it lunchtime tomorrow. But my mother’s things, my things. Right now, they didn’t matter. I would come back when Finn wasn’t around and when I wasn’t tempted to snoop around his house to find out exactly what was in the basement. Hell. Crap. This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t—shouldn’t—feel like this way about someone I’d basically grown up with.
Sweat slicked my body, and the contents of my stomach churned, I had to get back to my room before I upchucked all over the spotless patio. And yet…my feet developed a mind of their own and walked me into the house, through the kitchen and to the door that led to the basement.
I licked my cracked lips which was useless because my mouth was Sahara dry. My hands shook, I gripped the banister, and went downstairs
The basement was the length and width of the house. It looked normal, not like a den of iniquity and definitely not like somewhere in the middle of renovations. I stepped off the last stair and peered down a low-lit hallway. I couldn’t hear anything and an eerie silence rang in my ears. At the back of the hallway was a closed door.
They were in there. I tiptoed toward it, hoping the floorboards wouldn’t squeak and announce my presence. My thudding heart, now somewhere between my throat and mouth, made it difficult to breathe. A low voice in my mind whispered I should turn back, runaway. No matter how much of an ass he was, invading his privacy was unforgivable. Dammit, did I really want to know what Finn was doing in there?
Yes, with all my heart and soul I did.
Hearing how he talked to that woman; seeing how he controlled her awakened something in me that had been stirring all day. I crept toward the door and stood outside the closed room. What now? Knock? Ask if I could watch? I pressed my ear to the cold door, his voice rumbled low but the wood was too thick for me to make out his words. The unmistakable snap of a whip sounded from inside the room. It might as well have flicked off my skin by the way my inner walls clenched. Guttural moans reverberated from behind the door. The kind of moans that signaled the beginning of a devastating orgasm. The kind of orgasm no one had ever given me. The kind of orgasm only a man who controlled me could bestow. I firmed my lips to stop myself echoing the woman’s ecstasy.
My weakened body shook with need, and I drew in a shaky breath. Whatever was going on behind those doors, I wanted. But I couldn’t have it…it was wrong. Forbidden.
I stepped away and turned toward the stairs, but before I got away the door handle rattled, and the door swung open. I closed my eyes and prayed I was dreaming that I hadn’t disobeyed something Finn had instructed me to do. That I hadn’t invaded his personal space without thought for why he didn’t want me down here.
“Kennedy.” The quiet way he said my name held more than a hint of anger. “I told you not to come down here.”
“I’m sorry.” I rushed toward the stairs without looking back. Every step seemed to take an hour. Before I got away, a large hand gripped my arm and swung me around.
Finn was naked from the waist up, his chest glistening with sweat. His blue eyes, darker than a sky before a storm at midnight, trailed up and down my body, and, of course, my traitorous nipples hardened beneath his scrutiny.
A smirk lifted the corners of his lips. “Scared or turned on?”
I lifted my head and met his thunderous gaze full on. “Neither.” He couldn’t know how turned on I was or how much I wanted whatever he was doing to that woman.
He released my arm and took a step closer, because of his height and because I was in my bare feet, my mouth was in direct line with his brown, pebbled nipples. I wanted to run my tongue over them so bad, take them between my teeth.
I moved backward. “I’ll leave. I’ll figure out what to do with my mom’s things another time.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” The command in his voice was unmistakable, and it sent shockwaves down my spine. “You need to sort through your mom’s things so we can both move on.”
I snorted. “Right, move on. God forbid I’m in your life for a second more than I have to be.” Anger and arousal bubbled through my veins. I wanted him as much as I hated him. “Don’t worry, Finn. I’ll be out of your life as soon as I can.” I jerked my head toward the room behind him. “Better get back to your little slave.” Before he could reply, I ran upstairs.
****
I slammed the door to my temporary home and swiped away the fat tears running down my cheeks. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Why did he hate me as much as he did and why the hell did my damn body ache for him?
In the space of a few hours, I’d gone from despising him to desiring him in a way that shook my soul. Yesterday, he was my pain-in-the-ass-soon-to-be ex-stepbrother. Today, he was someone I longed for. Someone I ached for. Someone I had to have. I wanted him to collar me. I wanted him to tie me up. I wanted him to spank me. Teach me. Fuck me. I wanted to see him naked and hard for me. For him to show me what it was like to be with an experienced man who would push me to my limits. Someone who knew how to give more pleasure than I could stand.
My clit pulsed in time with my heart. Rage and resentment laced my blood. I needed a shower. Needed to cool down. Needed to wash all thoughts of him away.
I stormed into the bathroom ripping off my clothes as I went and stood under the skin-stripping jets, letting them pummel my body. I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles and squeezed my eyes trying to shove images of him away. Images of his torso bathed in sweat as he spanked me. Images of his mouth between my legs as he tongued me. Images of his cock sliding into my pussy as he fucked me. It would never happen. Finn would never want me. I was all boobs and butt, and everything jiggled when I walked. Plus, plus, I was Kennedy, his annoying stepsister whom it pained him to even acknowledge.
Needing to ease the want whirling through me, I lifted the shower hose from the wall and set the spray to pulse. It was better doing this at my own hands rather than humiliating myself by begging Finn to do it.
I sat at the edge of the tub and spread my legs as wide as I could, wishing I’d had the foresight to grab the dildo from my suitcase. When I came, I enjoyed climaxing over something hard, but for now I’d make do with my hands. I aimed the jets at my clit and groaned when the sprays hit off the hard bud. Not bothering to keep myself quiet, I moaned and rocked my hips, losing myself in the pulsing water. I moved the shower head back and forth, flicking the spray over my engorged flesh. To tease myself, I pulled up the hood of my clit and stretched myself wide. It felt good, so, so good. My nipples puckered into points, and I imagined Finn was there sucking and biting them. The familiar sensations of my coming orgasm rose and rose. I held the spray over my clit, keeping the shower head close so the pressure was hard and relentless.
My thighs and hands shook, and I tensed myself against my rushing climax. My hand tremored so much, it was near impossible to keep the spray on the right spot. Then my body released. I screamed Finn’s name over and over, begging him to fuck me hard, begging him to punish me. Hunkering down, I dropped the shower hose and fingered myself, pulling every spasm, every jolt from my body.
When my body gave all it could, I swept my fingers from my pussy to my clit to soothe the swollen and sensitive bud, but it wasn’t enough. My body still ached. Still wanted. I turned off the faucets, wrapped a towel around my body and strolled into my room, ready to grab my dildo and whatever other toys I thought would help quell my lust.
A fully dressed Finn sat on the bed with his arms crossed glowering at me. The world tilted on its axis. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t be in here. Crap. Had he heard me when I orgasmed? Had he heard me call his name? I clenched my towel to my chest hoping it hid my shaking hands.
“W—what are you doing here?”
Nine Steamy Step Stories Page 2