Wrecked: A Stepbrother Romance Novel

by Arabella Abbing

  He was staring blankly down the hall, his brow furrowed together tightly like he was deeply considering my question. A small part of me began to worry that he had noticed something I hadn’t, until he finally answered my question.

  “I think I’m going to offer my contractors a large bonus if they can finish the renovations in less than two weeks. Those stairs are going to fucking kill me.”

  My laughter at his out-of-the-blue comment was loud enough to bring my mom and Harold back out of the bedroom to see what was going on. By that point, Brandon had joined in as well and I was willing to bet that the picture we made was absolutely insane—standing in the kitchen, doubled-over and clutching at our stomachs as we laughed like hell.

  Insane or not, it was exactly where I wanted to be.

  And I fully intended to stay right here, with him, until death did us part.

  Chapter 21

  July 2015

  “Holy crap, it’s hot as hell out there.”

  “Why you continue to choose to go outside is beyond me,” Brandon said with a laugh, staring down at his laptop from his spot on the couch while I dropped my messenger bag on the recliner. “You know you’re more than welcome to stay here with me all the time. I’ve got central air.”

  “Is that the only perk of working from home?” I asked, lifting a knee up on the couch and nudging the side of his laptop. “I think I should hear a few more selling points so I can make an informed decision.”

  He finally looked up from the screen, one eyebrow cocked high as a mischievous grin slowly spread across his lips. The laptop was closed and laid safely to the side before he placed a hand on my hip and guided me to straddle him.

  “Of course that’s not the only perk. I’d love to give you a demonstration of the others.”

  “Is it a hands-on demonstration?”

  “That’s really up to you. I can accommodate you either way.”

  I squealed with surprise and delight when he dug his fingers hard into my ass cheeks and lifted me from the couch, pausing just long enough to instruct me to wrap my legs around him before he carried me down the hall to our bedroom.

  While I had been a little more saddened than anticipated to say good-bye to my old apartment, the moment I laid eyes on Brandon’s place, I had been completely swept away. As if the house in the Virgin Islands hadn’t done a good enough job of it already, this apartment made the reality of our situation really sink in.

  Brandon was rich and had no qualms about the fact that what was his, was now mine.

  Ergo, I was rich.

  It still tripped me out to think like that, even after he had surprised me with the location to open my own bakery. ‘You being here with me is my dream come true. I figured I’d return the favor,’ he had said, dangling the keys to the building out in front of me like a carrot.

  When I still tried to argue that I didn’t like the idea of him spending so much money on me, he swore that he would consult with me on anything he wanted to do for me in the future. But he also insisted that the bakery was something he wouldn’t allow me to give back. A few weeks later and I had a small number of employees and we were open for business. Life was good.

  I giggled when Brandon tossed me onto the bed and crawled up my body like some kind of feral jungle cat, a sexy grin spread across his lips.

  Okay, life was really fucking good.

  “As much as I enjoy having you on top from time to time,” he started, pausing his sentence as he inched my shirt up my navel and waiting for me to remove it before continuing. “I’m glad my leg is better. Because I really like taking control.”

  “I can see that,” I mumbled, raising an eyebrow at the very prominent bulge in his jeans. “And I like it, too.”

  “Oh I know you do. The way you claw at my back says that well enough,” he pointed out, chuckling as he searched for the hidden zipper on my pencil skirt.

  After awkwardly tugging the skirt in every direction he could, he let out a huff of frustration and looked up at me with a frown. “How the fuck does this thing come off?”

  I couldn’t help but to laugh at his serious expression, especially considering his frown deepened when he saw how amused I was. I probably should have seen it coming, but it still managed to surprise me when he snarled and gripped the hem of skirt in each hand—ripping it clean up to the waist.

  “Hey!” I shouted, hopelessly batting at his hands while trying to sit up and inspect the damage. “I loved this skirt!”

  “I’ll buy you another,” he growled before tearing the rest of it and throwing the scraps of fabric to the side before fingering the elastic band of my panties “You want to take these off or should I tear them as well?”

  My first thought was to wriggle out of them, but I honestly couldn’t have cared less about the underwear. Seeing Brandon lose his self-control was far more appealing than taking them off myself. So I leaned back on the bed and shrugged, a coy smile playing at my lips.

  The grunt he made as he tore them off my body was one of the most erotic sounds I’d ever heard. The death of my cute underwear had not been in vain.

  He eased himself to his knees and unbuckled his belt, holding the leather in his hands for a moment while he arched an eyebrow my way. When I shook my head, he threw it to the side and continued on, pulling down his pants and jeans while I sat up to pull at the hem of his t-shirt.

  “Take it off,” I said with a pout when I was unable to pull it up far enough from my position.

  “Take that off first,” he fired back with a jerk of his chin, signaling at my bra.

  The moment my bra was discarded and the rest of his clothes were shed, he gripped my hips and pulled me down the bed. I was just barely able to reach for the nightstand and grab a condom, waiting patiently while he rolled the latex over his cock.

  Once covered, he wasted no time in lining himself up and slamming home—the force of the thrust pushing me part-way up the bed. Since I couldn’t reach him, I twisted my hands in the sheets, moaning loudly when he lifted my legs to his shoulders and began to thrust.

  “How’s this for a perk?” he grunted between each hard pump of his hips.

  “More,” I begged, reaching a hand down to where we were joined and furiously working my clitoris.

  When he lifted me higher up so my ass was coming off the bed, I started to see stars. Every thrust was angled perfectly hit my g-spot and the simultaneous sensations from him and my own fingers was sending me soaring to edge in record time.

  Not that Brandon had any problem making me come. It took some time to get there, but I was pretty much guaranteed at least one mind-blowing orgasm any time we had sex these days. Which was a hell of a lot more than any of my ex-lovers could say.

  As I reached the brink of orgasm and he was able to sense it, he increased the speed and kept a steady rhythm going while I helplessly squirmed around, both chasing the euphoria and trying to get away from the overwhelming sensations at the same time. I screamed when it became too much—my release forcing my eyes closed and my back to arch off the bed.

  Brandon took over where my fingers had stopped moving, pulling every ounce of pleasure out of me that he possibly could until I started to shake, unable to take any more. Then he gently let me down and pulled out, nudging at my hip until I flipped over. I allowed him to lift my ass into the air, but was still too shaky from my climax to even push my upper body up.

  “You okay?” he softly asked, rubbing one of his large hands soothingly down my back even as his hard length prodded at my entrance. “Need a minute?”

  Alarmed at the prospect of him stopping just because I was still in the post-orgasm haze, I shook my head and forced myself up to my elbows.

  “No, don’t stop. Fuck me hard,” I moaned, pushing my ass back against his cock and tantalizingly rubbing against him.

  Brandon let out a low groan of approval and directed the head to my slit, pushing inside slowly enough this time to let me feel every single inch of his massive cock. Once
he was buried to the hilt, he stilled for a long moment and I let my head fall forward while I simply enjoyed the feeling of him stretching me so thoroughly.

  As corny as it may have sounded, the only way I could think to describe the feeling of having him in me was ‘complete’.

  “You always feel so incredible,” he whispered as he pulled almost completely out only to push right back in. “But it’s fucking amazing right after you come. I’ve never felt anything so good.”

  The amazement that was always evident in his voice when we made love never ceased to surprise me. He moved his hips slowly while one hand roamed my back and the other gripped my hip to hold me in place.

  But when I came back down from the high of my orgasm enough to push my upper body up—all bets were off. The way he harshly pounded into me nearly pushed my face back to the mattress and I braced myself for the ride as he got increasingly wild.

  “Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like this?” he panted.

  “Oh my god, yesss,” I breathed out, pushing my hips back and trying to meet him thrust for thrust. “Faster! Ohhh fuck, Brandon!”

  It didn’t take long at all for him to comply with my request, nor did it take long for me to feel another orgasm just over the horizon. He gripped both my hips tightly as he pounded into me from behind, his grunts turning into long groans as his rhythm began to falter.

  Just when I thought that he might finish before I could get a second orgasm, he pulled out and flipped me back over. His eyes were wild and unfocused as he covered my body with his own and thrust back home, giving me ample opportunity to dig my nails into his back as he grinded his pelvis against mine.

  The friction on my clit was all I needed to fall over the edge. I breathlessly moaned his name as stars burst behind my eyelids, crying out when he stopped grinding down and instead began to quickly pump his hips as he chased his own release.

  My legs were still shaking when he abruptly halted, his jaw dropping open and a strangled groan of satisfaction rising from his throat as he came. Once the waves of pleasure wore off, he leaned his head forward and placed a kiss to my collarbone before raising up to press his lips to mine. We were both still fighting to catch our breath so the kiss was short, but it still felt like the cherry on top of really great sex.

  “Love you so much,” Brandon breathed out as he swept the hair off of my sweaty forehead.

  I was wrong. That was the cherry on top.

  Just as I was about to return the sentiment, the sound of the buzzer echoed through the apartment. Brandon pushed himself off of me and looked towards the bedroom door with a confused frown while I mentally cursed myself for forgetting the reason why I came home from work early in the first place.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I cursed, rolling off the bed as soon as Brandon had moved out of the way. My intention was to throw my outfit back on and pray I looked at least mildly presentable, until my eyes landed on the remnants of my skirt. “Damn it, Brandon!”

  “What’s going on? Were you expecting someone?”

  I was scowling with irritation at my skirt when I looked up to see him casually lying on the bed, completely uncaring of his nudity. I wanted to direct my annoyance at him, but seeing him so content with his body in my presence was something that was still a rarity and the sight deflated my anger immediately.

  I nodded in response to his question and pointed a stern finger to the bathroom as I said, “Yes, now hop in the shower. Quickly. We don’t need to both be smelling like sex for this.”

  He smiled and stood up, moving to the closet to grab something to wear while I frantically searched for something to wear in my dresser. The buzzer rang again and whatever question Brandon had started to ask me was cut short when I went running to press the button to let our guest up.

  With less than two minutes before the elevator made it to our floor, I dashed back to the bedroom and grabbed the first outfit I could find in my dresser that matched. Brandon had already closed the bathroom door and I could hear the shower running, so I smoothed down my hair with my palms and prayed that I didn’t look like complete shit.

  By the time I rushed back to the foyer—stopping only for a moment to check my hair in one of the hallway mirrors and deciding it was acceptable enough—I could hear the elevator dinging with its arrival just outside the door. I undid the locks and swung it open, smiling when the familiar figure stepped into view.

  “Hello again, Miss Jensen.”

  “Vanessa is fine,” I insisted, reaching my hand out towards him. “It’s good to see you again, Dr. Shaw.”

  I waited a beat, wondering if he would offer me the same courtesy of calling him by his first name. The words never came and it made me all the more curious about what the man’s first name was. I assumed Brandon knew it, but I never heard him call the doctor anything other than Shaw.

  It would remain a mystery unless I actually asked, but Shaw cut me off before I got the chance.

  “It’s nice to see you as well, my dear. But I admit I was a little surprised to hear from you. Is Mr. Jensen all right?”

  “Oh, he’s doing great. He’ll be joining us in a few minutes. Come on in,” I beckoned him, holding open the door and waiting for him to enter before closing it and twisting the main lock back into place. This building was a hell of a lot more secure than my apartment, but old habits died hard.

  I led Shaw into the living room and gestured for him to take a seat, making sure to offer him a drink like a good host before sitting down myself. His expression was nothing short of curious as he stared at me, obviously wondering why I called him here.

  “You look different,” he observed with a tilt of his head. “How are things going? Did you find another job?”

  “Actually, I did. I... Well, Brandon actually helped me out with that. He gave me the money to open my own bakery.”

  Shaw’s eyebrows raised and a delighted smile appeared. “That’s wonderful news. I admit I was a little concerned about your job situation after our last talk, but hoped that you would give me a ring if you needed to.”

  “I would have. I still really appreciate the offer and everything else you said to me that day. It... I still don’t know why or how you knew I needed that talk, but hearing it from someone other than my mom was...” I trailed off, unsure of how to properly express my gratitude towards him. “It just gave me the push I really needed to take control of my life and start taking chances. So thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome. What else have you changed since our talk?”

  This was the part I was slightly nervous about. Brandon was the one who mentioned to me that Shaw was going to be in town and I immediately followed my gut instinct to call him, not bothering to consider how he might react to the news about Brandon and I.

  “Well... I live here now,” I said with a forced laugh. “It’s a huge step up from the shitty apartment I used to have.”

  Shaw narrowed his eyes, but the small smile didn’t disappear. “Is this not Mr. Jensen’s apartment?”

  Busted.

  “It is. We... We’re together now. We’re actually engaged.”

  I waited for the shock or disgust or anything to register on his face— but nothing happened. Either he was a master at controlling his facial expressions or he had seen this coming just like my mom had. Or both.

  Probably both.

  As a cause of both my own jittery nerves and the blank expression on his face, I began to ramble.

  “I’m so sorry to call you here and waste your time like this. It’s just that— you changed my life. Seriously. So when Brandon said you were going to be in town and I never got the chance to really talk to you after our last conversation, I wanted to thank you in person and—”

  Shaw held up a hand to stop me, the corners of his lips tugging up in amusement. “Slow down, Vanessa. It’s not a waste of my time. I would have told you I couldn’t make it over the phone had I been busy.”

  My shoulders sagged with relief. “Thanks for sayi
ng that. There was another reason I asked you to come over. Just—give me one second,” I said, holding up a finger before I rushed over to where I had dropped my messenger bag and rummaged through it for the envelope.

  After I handed it over to him, I said, “I wanted you to be the first person I officially invited to our wedding.”

  That got a reaction out of the typically stoic man. A look of surprise paired with a proud smile as he slipped the invitation out of the envelope and scanned over it with his eyes.

  “I’ll make sure to keep my schedule clear. I look forward to attending and you have my sincerest congratulations.”

  Then, in the most shocking move he’d ever made, Dr. Shaw stood up and gave me a hug. It was incredibly awkward—one could barely call the brief pats on my back a hug, really—but I recognized it for the gesture it was meant to be.

  We were just wrapping up our slightly uncomfortable hug when Brandon entered the room, freezing in his tracks at the sight. When Shaw and I separated, he cautiously approached.

  “This is a surprise.”

  “It was a surprise for me as well when your fiancée rang me up and invited me to drop by for a visit while I was in town. But it’s always good to see you both.”

  Brandon gave me a confused smile as he strode forward to shake Shaw’s hand. I simply shrugged at him—knowing he wouldn’t really understand why I wanted Shaw to be the first person I invited to the wedding considering I never told him about the advice Shaw had given me.

  But there was a strong possibility that if it hadn’t been for Shaw, we might not have even gotten together. It was his talk that day that had spurred me into action and I couldn’t say for certain that I would have made it to that point on my own.

  Figuring I owed Brandon an explanation of all that, I mouthed the word ‘later’ at him and watched closely until he nodded his understanding.

  The discussion drifted between multiple topics; our wedding plans, the move back to the city, how Brandon had been healing, the bakery, and what Shaw had been up to since we last saw him. The three of us were still chatting when the sun started to set and Shaw regrettably informed us that he had a dinner to attend.