Stepbrother Studs Finn

by Selena Kitt

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  High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!

  Table of Contents

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Stepbrother Studs: Finn

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  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Molly’s handsome stepbrother, Finn, has called her Pita—short for pain in the ass—for so long, she’s almost forgotten her own name.

  And, she has to admit, she’s mostly lived up to it, because Finn is a typical, know-it-all, overprotective older stepbrother who thinks he always knows what’s best for her.

  But when she finds his journal and reads the secrets he’s been keeping, she suddenly has a decision to make.

  They have one week alone at a cabin together this summer—can she make Finn realize that, this time, his little stepsister knows what’s best? For once, she knows what she wants—and now she knows he wants it too.

  Does she have the courage to push him to his limits?

  Stepbrother Studs: Finn

  By Selena Kitt

  CHECK OUT MORE IN THIS SERIES:

  Stepbrother Studs: Aaron

  Stepbrother Studs: Brian

  Stepbrother Studs: Cameron

  Stepbrother Studs: Daren

  Stepbrother Studs: Evan

  I inched aside the curtain to watch Finn park and pull a backpack and his fishing gear from his SUV. Other than the fact his hair was little longer than it had been at Christmas, he looked exactly the same—sun-streaked brown hair, blue eyes beneath a heavy brow, and a square jaw with a cute little dimple in the center.

  I lingered, staring at that dimple. When I’d been seven and first met him, I’d told him he had a “butt chin.” But it was a feature that had grown more attractive to me the older I got. Not that I’d ever told him. I’d have died before admitting how much I liked it and him, especially after he’d nicknamed me Pita—Pain-in-the-ass. A name that had, unfortunately, stuck to me like glue.

  I spied on him a little too long. His long legs ate up the distance between the gravel drive and the cabin. Before he stepped onto the porch, I raced through the open living area and down the hallway toward the bathroom where I’d left the shower running. I wasn’t ready to greet him. Not when my plans were still a messy jumble in my head. I’d spent months agonizing over what to do with what I’d found hidden inside a hollow in a tree beside the river. Months where I’d memorized every shocking word I’d read in Finn’s journal.

  I caught Pita sunbathing topless on the boat dock. I should have backed away or made a noise to let her know I was there, but I couldn’t help staring. Her nipples looked so soft, and the tips stood up like pencil erasers. I wondered what they’d feel like against my tongue...

  Passages flitted through my mind as I ran. I knew it was wrong to take the notebook with his name markered on the top. I’d taken it the last time all the family had been here at Christmas. He’d snuck away, something that aroused my curiosity, and I’d followed through the woods to the river. I knew he’d meant to keep the book private by the way he’d hidden it. But I’d wondered what secrets he might be keeping, and whether I’d uncover something I could use to blackmail him into being my summer slave. Instead, I was the one captured.

  Every vacation, I find it harder and harder to play the big brother when all I really want to do is strip her down and run my hands over every inch of her skin. Is she soft? Will she get wet when I stroke her pussy? If I push a finger inside her, will she moan like she does over rocky road ice cream? It’s killing me to be around her and not touch her the way I want to.

  I entered the bathroom and closed the door, sinking my head against solid wood. I didn’t have a plan. Didn’t know what I really wanted. No, that wasn’t quite true.

  I wanted to know whether he still felt the same way. With his footsteps tromping through the living room, I made a sudden decision. I could angst like Bella mooning over Edward and waste the entire week we’d spend alone wondering, or I could do something bold. Either he’d take the bait and I’d know, or he’d slink into his room and pretend he didn’t see...

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

  I opened the bathroom door, then quickly stripped, dropping my pants, shirt and undies in a little trail leading to the glassed-in shower. There, I flipped the lever to hot and stepped in despite the fact the water was still cold. I picked up a cloth and lathered it up, turned so that he’d see me in profile, and began to stroke the cloth over my breasts, lingering over my nipples until they stood erect.

  Pencil erasers indeed…

  The nubby terrycloth wasn’t nearly enough friction to satisfy, but the knowledge of what he was about to see made my nipples prickle. On impulse, I dropped the cloth and ran my hands up my belly to my breasts.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw him in the doorway. He drew back, and I thought he might whirl away. But he held there a moment, which made me bolder. I smoothed my hands downward and began to touch myself, parting my thighs. I lifted a foot and placed it on the bench inside the shower, then arched my back and played like I was having the best time, like the pleasure was becoming too much—and I moaned, the same sound I made when I tasted my favorite ice cream.

  Now, he knew.

  What would he do about it?

  And how did I want him to react?

  My heard thudded hard against my chest, and my breath caught. Gathering my courage, I turned my head to gaze at him through the glass, not stopping the movements of my hands while I rubbed my pussy and ran my fingers along the length of my slit.

  He held still, not a muscle moving, except the one that jumped at the edge of his strong jaw as it tightened.

  The fact he stayed there was encouragement enough. I angled my body toward him, so that he could fully see what I was doing. I lifted a hand to give my breast a soapy caress and continued to stroke myself until my clit tingled and it wasn’t enough. With my thumb pressing on it, I thrust a finger inside myself and made another sound—a breathy, needy cry—and came.

  When I opened my eyes, he was no longer there. But it didn’t matter.

  I knew.

  My brother, Finn, still wanted me.

  * * * *

  I didn’t see him again until after I’d eaten my dinner. He stomped through the back door and stood over the recliner where I was sitting sideways, feet swinging idly, while I read an old copy of People magazine. Pictures of the sexiest man alive didn’t thrill m
e nearly as much as the angry flush spreading across Finn’s cheeks or the sight of his lean body in shorts and a loose tee.

  “I want it back.”

  I blinked up at him, pretending I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I said, giving him a smirk.

  “Now. I want it back.”

  I sighed and made a show of rising from the chair. I made sure to stand very close so I had to tilt my head to meet his gaze. I liked his height. Liked the breadth of his expanded shoulders. He looked strong and lean, and very capable of picking me up and doing whatever he wanted to do with me. A thought that thrilled me to my toes. But how to goad him into doing it? That was the question that had been driving me buggy since I’d masturbated in front of him.

  “What do you want back?” I asked, letting my smile deepen just a little. Just enough he knew I was fully aware of what he wanted.

  “It’s mine, Pita. My private journal. Now move your sweet little ass and get it for me.”

  I didn’t have to pretend to shiver at his command.

  “Or what?” I whispered, leaning closer.

  “You don’t want to find out.”

  “Maybe I do.” I tilted my head and licked my bottom lip. I’d never been much of a flirt, but with Finn, I was finding it so easy to do. Maybe it was because my nipples were tight again and my pussy was beginning to warm.

  “Fuck,” he said under his breath, his glance dropping to my mouth.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Stop it.” His gaze narrowed and bored into mine. “I’m your brother.”

  “That didn’t stop you thinking about me giving you blow jobs.”

  His expression hardened. “It’s one thing to think it. I’m a guy, we think about sex all the time. But I’m not a fucking perv.”

  “How disappointing.”

  “Stop playing.” He reached out to grip my upper arms. “Give it back.”

  I raised my chin. “Or you’ll… do… what?”

  His grip tightened. So did his lips. Before I could gasp, he whipped me around and bent me over the chair. The first swat stung my ass, the shock holding me still. The next swat was just as sharp.

  And then something happened. Something unexpected. My skin tingled. My pussy grew damp. Following another naughty impulse, I reached back and shoved my shorts and underwear down to my thighs.

  “Again.” I’d been naughty, and naughty girls needed punishment—right?

  “Pita,” he groaned. “Goddamn it, why can’t you act like a normal girl?”

  “You spank girls so often you know what’s normal?”

  “Never. For fuck’s sake, pull up your pants.”

  “Or what?”

  Instead of landing another slap on bare skin, he dragged me up against his chest. His mouth was right beside my ear, his breath coming fast and harsh.

  My shorts slithered down my thighs and puddled around my feet. While I stood nude from the waist down, I looked up and to the side and met his hot glare, daring him silently to act.

  “I want it back.” He sounded like he was trying to keep his cool.

  “And I’ll return it,” I agreed, swallowing hard. Was I really going to do this? But I already was, doing it. Now I just had to get him to do it too. “But first you have to spank me like you mean it. I mean… don’t I deserve it?”

  I saw the surprise in his icy blue gaze a moment before his eyes narrowed. And then he moved, not letting go of my arm as he sat in the chair. He yanked me over his lap, his strong, bare thighs riding my ribs and my belly.

  “Why are you doing this?” His voice was almost a whisper, like maybe he didn’t want to know.

  Bent over with blood rushing to my head wasn’t a situation exactly conducive to lying, so I answered him honestly.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m curious. And this feels... good.”

  “Me spanking your ass feels good?”

  “My bare ass... please.” I nodded.

  I wasn’t a virgin. But I also wasn’t very experienced. I knew enough to understand that he’d sparked something inside me. Something that wanted his punishment, his control. I felt feminine and helpless, and so thoroughly excited I thought I might get off like this, bent over him, his hand smacking me until my ass was hot and my pussy so wet I’d dampen his thigh.

  Just the thought was getting me off.

  He laid his hand on the curve of my bottom, tentatively, not giving me its weight. Like he was fighting with himself, trying to make the right decision—but he was tempted to give me what I’d asked for. What I deserved.

  What I wanted.

  What he’d wanted.

  Two years ago, I’d climbed a tree overhanging the river. He’d threatened me with a spanking if I didn’t come down that very second. I’d laughed then, dangling from the branch before letting go and falling into the water.

  Later, he’d written about the thoughts that had gone through his mind.

  She doesn’t have a clue how close I came to losing it. I wanted to dive in after her, drag her from the water and put her over my knee. I wanted to spank her. Hard. Make her cry. She scared the shit out of me. But I didn’t do anything. Because the moment I thought about spanking her pretty little ass, I imagined pulling down her pants and giving her several hard smacks on her naked skin. Then I imagined moving my hand over that hot, red ass, fingering her cunt, just to feel her squirm. Would she have been hot for it? Would she have let me do more?

  “I was fifteen. But I think... I might have let you, Finn. Even then.”

  He was quiet. Then, he said, “You shouldn’t have read that.”

  His hand lifted, and I held my breath. When it landed, it stung so bad, tears filled my eyes. But when I sobbed, it wasn’t because I was hurt. Relief spilled over me, so pure and real, I couldn’t contain it.

  “Yes,” I gasped, as another hot smack landed. “Yes.”

  His slaps continued until I noted the way his legs quivered under me. I sank, relaxing my body, surrendering everything. Whatever he wanted to do, I was okay with it. If he wanted to fuck me right now, I’d welcome him.

  His hand moved to my pussy and cupped it. I was so wet, I drenched his palm. He groaned and his fingers began to stroke through my folds. The moment he circled my entrance, I hissed between my teeth.

  One finger slipped inside me, and I clenched around it, trying to hold it there. Finn’s finger was inside me. He was fingering my pussy. I wanted to shout. Instead, I began to move my hips, to drag my pussy on the long, thick digit. I wanted to fuck it. Wanted to tempt him to put another inside me, because I needed to feel stretched and full.

  “I dreamed about this a thousand times. Fuck, I jerked off to thoughts of what it would feel like being inside you.” His voice was hoarse.

  The hand resting on my bottom shook—only the finger thrusting inside me seemed sure.

  I knew he could feel what he was doing to me. My pussy squeezed, released, milking his fingers—and it wasn’t something I could control. My body simply understood what I needed. I needed more.

  “I won’t say no,” I blurted.

  “I didn’t ask permission.”

  Fuck.

  A second finger slid inside me, and I whimpered. Then I felt the nudge of his cock against my side. He was getting hard from spanking me! I wiggled, just to push against it and return a little of the pleasure he was giving me with his quickening thrusts.

  “Please.”

  His fingers withdrew and he shoved me off his lap. I landed on the floor on my side and rolled to my back, lying there with my thighs spread, staring up at him. I wanted him to see me. All of me.

  I wanted a reaction.

  “We can’t do this.” His reddening skin was taut over his cheeks. His cock tented the front of his cotton shorts.

  “I’m not your sister,” I said, my own voice a little high and strained—he’d left me on the verge of an orgasm, and I needed him finish it.

  “Janice
and my dad… they trust me with you.”

  “If it helps, my mom knows I’m into you.” I came up on my elbows and wrinkled my nose. “She caught me in your room one time too often, smelling your clothes. She reminded me we’re not blood. She’s only worried, if things go south, we’ll end up not being able to be a family.”

  “Your mom said that?” His hands curved into fists on his thighs.

  I nodded. “I’ll be nineteen in a month. What we’re doing isn’t illegal.”

  I bit my lip, knowing his resolve was weakening, but not wanting to push too hard. Finn was a stubborn bastard. When he made up his mind about something, there was no turning back.

  “No one has to know. Not if you don’t want them to. I promise I won’t tell.”

  His expression didn’t change, but his gaze swept over my body, pausing when it touched on my pussy. “If we do this—how the hell do we stay friends?”

  Sensing victory, I pushed off the floor and stood in front of him. As naked as a baby, my need exposed. “Just pretend you’re doing your brotherly duty, protecting me from my bad decisions. Finn, I want to fuck. So you’ll make sure I’m safe—with you, instead of some random guy I let get in my pants.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You already have someone picked out?”

  “I do.” And I wasn’t lying. I was staring right at him.

  “You being lazy? Choosing me because I’m here and because we have the place to ourselves? And because you know about… my book?”

  “Why don’t we work our way down your list of fantasies, and then we’ll tackle mine?” I’d let him think he was a target of opportunity, convenient—if that’s what it took for him to agree.

  “And…I’m on the pill.” I cleared my throat and gave him my snarky face, so he wouldn’t know how much this mattered, or how embarrassing this would be if he turned me down.

  “Pita, what the fuck?” He rubbed his face, groaning. “You shouldn’t be saying these things. Shouldn’t lay it out there like this for a guy. You’re begging to be used.”