Score - A Stepbrother Romance

by Daire, Caitlin

  I raise a shaky finger, slamming it into beach guy’s chest. “This! Goddamn! Guy! Is taking a shower in my bathroom!”

  To my utter surprise and anger, my Dad laughs. And the guy follows.

  “What is going on?” I ask shakily.

  “Oh, Rubi,” my dad says, rubbing my head like I’m some stupid kid. “This is Jackson. Didn’t I tell you about him?”

  “It’s Jax,” beach dude corrects him before winking at me. My eyes follow a rivulet of water making its way down his chest … over his abdomen, towards the place barely covered by a towel, as my mind tries to place his name.

  “Fuck,” I breathe heavily when I realize what’s going on.

  “Language,” Dad scolds me, patting Jax on the back. “Don’t want to make a bad impression on your stepbrother, do we?”

  He doesn't look like he's obsessed with Spiderman.

  Jax looks me straight in the eye, grinning ear to ear. “Oh, I have my mind made up about her already,” he says, winking at me before leaving with my Dad.

  As soon as they’re gone, I grab a towel from the rack, press it against my mouth and scream as loud as I can into the thick Egyptian cotton.

  My stepbrother. He’s my goddamn stepbrother.

  Fucking.

  Hell.

  Chapter 2

  Jax

  I’m not a big fan of family meals, but today’s breakfast is proving to be more than interesting.

  I knew who she was the moment I spotted her on the beach. Her Dad and my mother had been shoving her photos in my face for months before we met, and even if I hadn’t memorized her pretty face, that flame-red hair would be a hard mane to miss.

  The pictures definitely don't do her justice. She’s gorgeous, there’s no denying that. But I think I prefer her on paper, because in real life, she might as well be holding up a big fucking sign that reads Trouble. I can already tell she's decided to make all our lives a living hell, and she's intent of making me suffer as much as possible.

  Poor little princess doesn't know I've seen enough crap in my life to be able to take on anything. And a little firecracker like her is a dot on the horizon – something I can easily wipe off.

  My parents divorced when I was a little kid, and all I remember from their years together is a lot of goddamned shouting, plates breaking and being locked in my room, terrified.

  I head to the kitchen after I get dressed, my hair still wet and dripping from the shower. Mom has got eggs and bacon on the table for us, and I settle down, pouring myself a glass of freshly squeezed OJ.

  We talk pleasantly about the weather, but the door has my undivided attention. Little miss firecracker storms in, her face already flushed, her red hair a wild halo around that heart-shaped face.

  I busy myself with other thoughts as she joins us at the table.

  Replaying the events of the last few months in my head, I think about my life at the moment.

  I was bitter about my parents' divorce for a long time, blaming my mom, who kept me when Dad up and left, not giving a fuck about his seven year old son. I used to relish those few weeks a year I got to spend with him.

  Then I found out my scumbag of a father cheated, cut off all contact and hasn’t regretted it once. Last I heard, he’s living with his secretary in Nebraska. Good for him, and good riddance for me.

  I had a rebellious period nonetheless, and I still carry the remnants of that phase on my skin. I seemed to think that my mother would feel punished if I inked every inch of my skin, but she took everything with a smile, telling me she was gonna be proud of me someday.

  And that almost hurt more – to know she had this blind trust in me. It meant I actually had to do something with my life, instead of wasting my time on girls and booze.

  The biggest surprise to me is what made me wake up and realize I don't want to spend life drunk and with a girl under me – preferably with one on top, as well.

  This decision might be hard to abide by if little stepsis is around me all day, all summer, because just looking at those perky tits of hers is making my cock stir, and I better not think about my hands around her neck on the beach, because I'll have to excuse myself from the kitchen table.

  “Hi, little sister,” I say jokingly, unable to resist the temptation of making her blush. I also earn a round of smiles from my stepfather and mom, while Rubi shoots me a murderous look. “Calmed down a little?”

  “Fuck off,” she snaps, and my eyes widen. I’m going to have some fun breaking this one.

  “Rubi!” her Dad scolds her, but she promptly ignores him, grabs an apple from the counter and heads out. “Get back here,” her Dad calls after her, and I’m pretty sure he means business with his tone.

  Apparently Rubi is aware of that, too, because she strolls back into the dining room and plops down on a chair with a dramatic sigh. “May I be of help, Father?” she asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Rubi, don’t be such a kid,” he says tiredly and she sulks at his choice of words, which amuses me. She’s eighteen, so right at that awkward age. And despite the fact that she behaves like an insolent child, she does not like being called one.

  Noted.

  She sulks at the table while the rest of us enjoy our breakfast, the conversation flowing without her input. However, it happens more than once that I catch her staring at me, and the fourth time around, I grin widely at her, which annoys her to no end.

  I love the fact that she’s a blusher. Her cheeks turn this perfect shade of strawberry pink, and for some reason it turns me on more than her tight little ass in that white bikini.

  I furrow my brow as I realize what I’m thinking about, and as if my thoughts weren’t proof enough, I most definitely feel my cock stiffening between my legs. I clear my throat and grab my glass of OJ, drinking in long gulps.

  This isn’t great.

  I’m 21, she’s eighteen. She’s a kid.

  Not to mention, my stepsister.

  Because here’s the thing – I like my stepfather.

  Tony and my mother have been married for just a few months. I met him on quite an interesting occasion, and I'm pretty sure any other guy would have lost his mind if the first time he got to meet his stepson was in jail.

  I was arrested for drinking under the age limit just a few days before my twenty-first birthday, as well as assault of a police officer. What can I say? I wasn't about to let some middle-aged prick with a beer belly put me into handcuffs.

  I used my call to let Mother Dearest know her son was in jail. She showed up with a guy called Tony Lynn, someone I'd heard her mention in passing and chose to ignore for a good few months.

  Mom didn't want to pay bail, but Tony did. Mom didn't want to wait for me to get out, but Tony did. Mom didn't even want to see me, but Tony was there to help.

  He took me to a diner, and I ordered the biggest fucking meal on the menu, just to piss him off. He allowed it and let me finish eating, all the while being so calm, it made me nervous.

  Then he told me I needed to clean up my game, at which point I cursed at him.

  And he threw a drink at me.

  He goddamn poured a glass of iced tea on my head, and as I gaped at him in shock – no one had ever had the balls to stand up to me before – he burst into laughter and gave me the speech of my life.

  Tony said I had all the potential in the world. I had great grades, great prospects in football, even better ones in some of my classes. He told me he didn't give a fuck what I did in my free time, but he also said I needed to respect my mother.

  And he told me how many times he had to console her after I got in trouble. My mom, who's always been my rock, not moved by any of my shenanigans. Except I was totally fucking her up with my actions.

  I was sulking for a good while, covered in sticky tea.

  But as Tony finished, I realized he had a point. I was wasting my goddamned life, and for what? To prove a point? To rebel?

  I made a promise that day. I'd keep my private life away
from my Mom's eyes, and I'd try to make her proud. Tony and I shook on it.

  To this day, I have respect for the old man – as he does for me.

  This might prove to be a problem if his daughter is around.

  Up until now, she was with her mother in California, going to school there. She didn’t even come to the wedding, claiming she had finals, though I doubt that was the reason. I guess she’s still hung up on the idea of her parents being together, since they divorced a couple of years ago.

  “Lost in thought, dear stepbrother?” Rubi’s syrupy sweet voice interrupts my thoughts and my eyes shoot towards her. Her green eyes are sparkling with mischief, and fuck me if it doesn’t make me even more turned on.

  “Thinking about me?” she asks, biting into her crunchy apple.

  “Oh, yes,” I reply in all seriousness. “I was doing just that.” Her eyes widen in surprise, but I’m not done yet. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to a movie. I think they’re showing the new Disney flick at six p.m. today. Unless that’s past your bedtime?”

  "I'll go to the late-night showing with you. Have you seen Entering in the Back Door 7?" she asks, as my mother gasps in shock.

  "Of course," I nod solemnly. "I take it you haven't and need some education in the matter? They're showing Intercourse 101 at a primary school nearby."

  Tony slams a fist on the table at that point, but Rubi and I keep glaring at each other.

  She chews on her fruit furiously as I smirk at her. “I don’t need a big brother to watch over me,” she spits out angrily. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Sure,” I snort.

  She glares at me furiously. “You don’t think I can? I’ve been raising myself for the past three years. Daddy was too busy abandoning us, and Mom’s got a job that takes 12 hours out of her day. Still think I’m a kid, big brother?”

  Wow, way to turn the conversation awkward.

  “Let’s all calm down,” my mother suggests, shooting me a warning glance, but Rubi is having none of it.

  “Whatever,” she sighs, throwing her apple core on the table. “I’m out of here.”

  She storms out of the kitchen, and I think all of us lose our appetite. I mumble an excuse that goes unnoticed, then head outside onto the patio, where the water in the newly installed pool is shimmering, enticing me to jump in.

  Which I would do, if I hadn’t spotted Rubi setting up a lounge chair, and I fucking can't resist taunting her some more, realizing this might become my favorite pastime.

  I head over there, leaning against a wall as she glares at me and plops down on her chair. She puts her heart-shaped sunglasses over her eyes and makes a point of ignoring me.

  I don't move, knowing I'll be able to crack her resolve.

  "You're in my sun," she spits at me, and I move so I'm completely blocking the sunlight from her body. She sits up furiously.

  "You should put on sun block," I tell her seriously.

  "Yes, I can tell you're very concerned about my skin." She rolls her eyes, but throws a bottle of sunscreen in my direction anyway. She's got good aim, and the bottle flies straight towards my head. But I'm too fast for her, catching it in mid air.

  Rubi turns on her tummy, exposing her perfectly tanned back and tight ass to my eyes. I have the urge to tear that bikini right off her, but I resist it, thinking of Tony – a guaranteed way to get me to cool off.

  Sex games aren't the only ones I know how to play, though.

  I shake the product well, then pour the contents of the entire bottle on Rubi's back.

  As soon as the cool liquid hits her skin, she screeches and jumps off the lounge chair, swiping at her back with an arm, her fingers coming away white.

  "What the hell is your problem?" she spits at me as I laugh my ass off, shrugging.

  She snarls in my direction, and before I can move out of the way, she slams into me. And even though I'm bigger and know full-well I could resist her attack, I let her push me towards the edge of the pool.

  When I'm just about to topple over into the water I was admiring moments ago, I wrap my hands around her tiny waist, pulling her in with me.

  She shrieks, but then we hit the water, going under, and it's like we've entered a different world. I open my eyes and see her struggling to break the surface, but I pull her closer. Her eyes open in surprise, and I stare at her, the world so calm and still all of a sudden.

  My hands glide over her skin, stopping on her inner thigh. I want to rip that bikini off, and I want to do it right now.

  But then we both run out of air, coming up and gasping, desperate to get that precious oxygen in our lungs.

  "You fucker!" Rubi screams, attacking me like a banshee. I'm laughing my buttoff again as she tries in vain to hit me, failing when I grab her wrists and pull her writhing body until it touches my skin under the water.

  She stills, but just for a moment. Long enough for me to position her sweetest part right against my crotch, though. Her eyes widen when she feels my hard length against her body, and then she fights me so furiously, I let go.

  Rubi swims towards the edge of the pool, pulling herself up and onto the hot tiles. I float on my back, a smile playing on my lips as I watch her.

  "Hope that cooled you off," I tell her nonchalantly, and she glares at me over her shoulder.

  "I don't think I'm the one that needs to cool off," she snaps in my direction.

  "Oh yeah?" My grin is all over my face as I point to her chest, where her nipples are hard and straining against the thin fabric of the bra she is wearing. "What's that, then?"

  She looks down and blushes furiously when she realizes what I'm talking about. Without saying another word, she storms back into the house to the soundtracks of my laughter.

  Chapter 3

  Rubi

  I storm out of the house with murder on my mind. I'm fuming with anger, but somewhere along the way to my unknown destination, I feel hot tears falling down my cheeks.

  I wipe furiously at the wetness, angry with myself for succumbing to his sick little game. I don't know who my stepbrother thinks he is, but he will not be getting as close as he did today, ever again.

  As I walk, I think grudgingly about my new stepmother. I have no trouble believing she's actually perfectly all right, but it fucking hurts so bad to sit at the kitchen table that used to be ours, like she took my mother's place.

  The memories of my parents' divorce are still too fresh in my mind. As opposed to all those horror stories you hear, my parents didn't spend my childhood fighting. It was strange – they suddenly got very quiet around one another, and you could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

  I guess I saw it coming before they sat me down at the very kitchen table I just had breakfast at, telling me they were going to get a divorce. And that's probably the reason it's so painful being in that house – I still remember it as a family place, before things went to shit. It's plain weird seeing a different woman in my mother's chair, along with a guy who should not be anyone's stepbrother, because he's walking forbidden fruit.

  I sigh heavily, coming to a stop. I look around, now realizing how far I've actually managed to walk. I started going uphill at some point, and I'm at a sightseeing spot – or rather, the make-out spot, as we used to call it. Too bad I never got to try it out.

  Immediately, Jax's face flashes in my mind, and I shake my head to get rid of the unwanted thought. I should not be thinking of him in that way - or any other, for that matter. I've already decided to keep my distance from him and his mother. I don't need the drama.

  "Rubi?" a voice cuts through my thoughts, and I turn around towards the source. There's a pretty, willowy blonde standing a few feet away, and she looks like she's just seen a ghost. "Rubi Lynn?" she repeats, the surprise evident in her voice.

  It takes me a moment to realize I actually know this girl.

  "Susie?" I ask, my eyes wide open with shock.

  "Fuck, no," she laughs, and the snorting sound she makes tells me
it is her indeed. "It's Susannah now, and if you call me Susie, I'll be forced to slap you."

  She comes over to me, and we hug each other tightly.

  "Fuck, Rubi, it's been years," she exclaims, getting a good look at me. I love the approval in her eyes, as pathetic as it is.

  Susie used to be the popular kid around here. We spent a lot of time together as kids, back when we lived at the beach house, but when mom and I moved, we completely lost touch. Judging by her long legs and wild curly blonde hair – plus her silly laugh, of course –she hasn't changed a bit.

  "You haven't changed a bit." I repeat my previous thought out loud, waking up from my reverie with a wide smile, my eyes traveling down her body. "Except your boobs are huge." My eyes widen as I take in the hugest pair of tits I've seen on a nineteen-year-old.

  "You like?" Susie asks with a pout, squeezing them and wiggling in my face, making me smile. She grins smugly as she leans over to explain. "Courtesy of my eighteenth birthday."

  I shake my head, but I can't help the smile that makes its way onto my face. Susie grabs my hand and drags me over to a bunch of other modelesque girls who make me feel like an ugly duckling.

  There's a quick round of introductions, and I'm met with appraising looks and sweet words.

  This never would have happened had we stayed in this town.

  The move to Cali gave me a chance to completely reinvent myself. When I was a kid, I was shy and such an introvert. Most kids become even more closed up when their parents’ divorce, but I went the other way.

  Mom often says I'm angsty and too grown-up for my own good. But she doesn't know the half of it.

  I may put on a good act, but on the inside, I'm the same bookish, naive Rubi I was when I was a kid. Eternal Daddy's girl, goody-goody-two-shoes. Some things never change.

  But gossiping with these girls as we occupy a bench in the nearby park makes me feel like I belong. I might've spilled the beans to Susie had we been alone, but in this case, I keep my mouth shut.

  Besides, I bet she'd look at me differently if she found out I was a virgin.