Stepbrother's Kiss

by Blake, Penny

  “I do hope that he learns to slow down and make himself happy one day,” Mirabeth continued. “I’ve never seen anyone work so hard. He can’t be happy living like that.” She shook her head and picked up my plate, taking it to the sink with her own.

  This had become our daily ritual, eating breakfast together every morning. It was one of the brightest parts of my day.

  The housekeeper had never had children of her own, but she was happily married with a large circle of friends, and still very active. Every morning she would entertain me with gossip about her friends or her friends’ children. It was never mean-spirited, but often scandalous and always entertaining.

  She would ask me about school, my friends, and sometimes she’d even venture to ask about my parents. I still didn’t like talking about them—the wound was still too fresh. But it was nice to know that Mirabeth was there if I ever felt like opening up.

  I enjoyed our daily chit-chat about school, finding it unexpectedly comforting. I suppose it was because I felt like most girls got to talk to their mothers the same way. Not that I ever had the kind of mother who made breakfast and asked about school, which made me appreciate Mirabeth even more.

  As she washed the dishes, I wondered what Raine could possibly want with me.

  And for reasons I couldn’t understand, I was vaguely excited to find out.

  After school I took the elevator to Raine’s office and as usual, the door was closed. I knocked and from the other side, he called for me to come in.

  When I opened the door I found him standing in front of the large bay window that overlooked the ocean, his back to me. He didn’t turn around when I walked in.

  “You asked me to come see you?” I said, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of his massive cherry wood desk.

  He finally turned and once again I was struck by how handsome he was. There was something boyishly attractive about the angles of his face, but there was an intensity in his dark stare that spoke of power and control.

  “As you know, your parents’ wills were not very clear or up to date. And since you’re guardianship was forfeited to me, I was entrusted with seeing that their property is liquidated and put into a trust until you come of age. I’m also responsible for managing that trust and paying it out as I see fit. But you know that already.”

  I nodded once and waited for him to continue.

  “As the one entrusted with your future well-being, I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask you what your future plans are. You’re well into your senior year of high school. I imagine you’ve given some thought to your plans after graduation?”

  “Well, I come into my half of the inheritance when I turn eighteen and complete high school, and then the other half when I’m twenty-five, so I’ll be provided for.”

  “Not forever, if you aren’t careful. Your full portion of the inheritance totals a little over half a million dollars. It’s a hefty sum for someone your age, but it won’t last your entire life. In fact, there are people who have burned through a lot more than that in a matter of a few years. As your guardian, I think it’s important for you to attend college, and then once you do, I can offer you a position working at Rupert Everly and Son.

  “My father—adoptive father, Rupert Everly—groomed me to take over the company. It’s his legacy, and if he knew there were more family members—even if they’re not direct blood relations—he’d want them to part of that legacy. Do you understand what I’m saying, Jess?”

  “Yes, and I appreciate the opportunity, but I’m not sure what I want to do with my future yet. And I’m definitely not sure I want to go to college right away. I think I want to travel for a while and see more of the world.”

  “I suppose I would be on board with that, provided that you get serious about your future after your time abroad.”

  “I’m really not concerned about college right now. I’ve been through a lot this past year, and I just need some time and space to figure out what makes me happy. To figure out who I am.”

  “Here’s what I think we should do.” He sat on his desk in front of me, his hands folded neatly on his knee. “As the executor of your trust, instead of paying out the originally agreed upon sum following your high school graduation, I’ll give you a portion of your inheritance to finance your travels for a year, maybe two. But I’ll hold on to the rest until after you complete your college education. You’ll then be welcome to join Rupert Everly and Son, at which time you’ll be paid out the rest of your inheritance.”

  “You can’t just change the terms and take the money away from me like that. I can do whatever I want with my inheritance—“

  “Actually you can’t. As the executor of the trust, I can arrange the conditions until your twenty-fifth birthday. I’m happy to give you the number of your parents’ lawyer if you’d like to speak with her.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said icily, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. “What about Blaze? Are you forcing him to go to college to get his inheritance too, or just me because I don’t have a penis?”

  Though I wasn’t being entirely serious, I saw something flash behind his eyes just then. And I knew exactly what it was. Weakness.

  “You know very well that I’m all woman,” I continued. “Is that what this is about? Are you trying to get sexual favors out of me?” I crossed my legs coolly, a tight smile on my lips.

  Something in his eyes darkened. “That’s entirely inappropriate Ms. Everly. You’ll apologize to me right now.” His thumb came down and absently caressed his black leather belt. Something about the gesture sent a flutter through my belly.

  I shrugged. “Why should I apologize? I’m not sorry. I think you’re treating me differently because I don’t have the same equipment as you.” I cast a glace down at the unmistakable bulge in his finely tailored dress pants.

  “That’s it,” he said, standing up. “I won’t stand for this sort of behavior in my house, is that clear?”

  I smiled impishly, knowing that despite his hard words, there was very little he could actually do. I didn’t believe he’d actually throw me out of the house.

  “What are you going to do about it?” I asked

  With that, he yanked me out of my chair by the arm. “Hands on the desk,” he ordered. “Now.”

  Startled by his show of force and the steel in his voice, I complied. Then I felt cool air touch my thighs as he yanked my skirt and panties down to my knees and smacked me hard on the ass.

  Again.

  And again.

  “Am I clear, Jessica?” he whispered coolly in my ear, his hand resting possessively on the globe of my ass, which stung from his show of force.

  All I could do was nod. I’d like to say it was because I was angry or upset, but I wasn’t. My thighs were drenched in my own wetness and my sex was throbbing. I was so turned on, I wasn’t sure I could breathe.

  “You may pull up your panties now.”

  I did as I was told, then he put his hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “And as much as I enjoyed your little show in the pool the other day, I advise you not to do it again. I’m a man after all, and next time, I might not be able to stop myself from taking you. Do you understand?”

  I looked into his eyes, which were hard as steel and burning with heat. I nodded again, my mind reeling

  “You may go,” he said coolly, then sat back at his desk chair and began looking over his papers again. I scurried out of his office, my ass burning and my sex aching with need.

  Chapter 8

  Painting was my salvation.

  Before my parents died, I never had any artistic inclinations. But my new school had art requirements that my old one didn’t, and from the moment I was handed a paintbrush, I was addicted.

  I purchased my own easel, canvases, gesso, brushes and oil paints so I could paint at home. And for hours every night, I’d lose myself in my work.

  I suppose that with everything that had happened with my parents and the loneliness of my n
ew life, painting was my escape. It was the one time I could shut off my mind and lose myself in a world of color and lines. It also was the one thing I had complete control over.

  My connection with Blaze and now my strange interactions with Raine had left me confused and insecure, feeling out of my depth. But when I was painting, all my cares floated away, and for once I was in control of my own little world.

  I was painting an abstract rendering of the sea behind our home when Blaze came up behind me. He never came to my room and I hadn’t heard him come in, so when I heard him say my name, I jumped.

  “Sorry to scare you,” he said. “I knocked but you didn’t answer, and I saw your light on. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Just distracted, I guess. What are you doing here?”

  “Can’t a guy visit his sister?”

  “Step-sister,” I said. “Don’t be disgusting. You know there’s nothing brotherly or sisterly about our relationship.”

  He stared at me with a hooded gaze before he said, “Did Raine talk to you about college?”

  My stomach dropped and blood rushed to my ears, remembering what had happened in Raine’s office. Does Blaze know?

  “Why do you ask?” I said, returning my attention to the painting in front of me and trying to keep my tone aloof.

  “Because he told me that unless I go to college, I’ll have to wait until I’m twenty-five to collect my full inheritance. I assume he told you the same thing.”

  “He did,” I responded, my heart rate slowing. Blaze doesn’t know what happened. Why is that such a relief?

  “Are you going to go to college, then?” Blaze asked.

  “Doubtful,” I said. “Raine said he’d give me enough of my trust to travel next year, so that’s probably what I’ll do. I don’t know what will come after that, but I feel like my whole life has been so limited.” So lonely. “I want to see what else is out there.”

  “Me too,” he said softly. He was standing flush against my back, and when he spoke, his warm breath whooshed past my ear. “You’re painting is beautiful. When you get back from your travels, you should go to art school.”

  Blaze’s closeness was too much to bear. I was tucked tightly between his chest and my canvas, and I suddenly felt like a trapped animal.

  I quickly maneuvered away from him, putting distance between us.

  “What are you doing?” I said. He looked at me with confusion, and I rolled my eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Blaze. I’m used to your games and I’m tired of them. One minute you’re hot, and you make me hot too. Then we get close, and you disappear for months—not physically, emotionally I mean. And that’s even worse. I honestly can’t take it anymore. It’s hard enough to be here with no parents and no real friends, and you have a way of making me feel infinitely worse.”

  “I’m sorry, Jess. You have no idea how sorry I am…for everything.”

  “Spare me your apologies. I’m tired of them. Tired of feeling close to you, and then you pushing me away. Take your games somewhere else. I’m over you.” I grabbed a tube of paint and began freshening my palate.

  “Well I’m not over you. Do you know how hard it is to see you everyday—at school or here at the house—and not be able to touch you? Why do you think I drink so much? Why do you think I fuck so much, huh Jess? Because I’m trying to fuck you out of my system, trying to forget what you do to me. And it isn’t goddamn working.”

  My hands stilled over my palate. “You’re…attracted to me?”

  “Attracted?” He laughed bitterly. “Jess, I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

  “Then why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? Did you ever consider that I might feel the same way?”

  “That would be even worse. Then I’d never be able to stay away from you.”

  “What if you don’t have to?” I crossed the room, stopping within arm’s reach. I didn’t know what I was asking from him—what I was inviting him to do—but it felt impossible to stop.

  “Jess, we’re family…”

  “Will you please stop it with that? We’re no more related to each other than we are to anyone at school. We live in the same house, and we’ve known each other since middle school. That’s it.”

  “I abused you,” he said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I abused you. On Christmas Eve. You were so young—just an innocent girl. I touched you…and I’m so, so sorry.”

  “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do, and you certainly didn’t abuse me, Blaze. It’s not like you were a grown man messing around with a high school girl—we were the same age. We were experimenting, just like half the kids at school were doing. It felt good when you touched me. What didn’t feel good was the way you distanced yourself from me afterwards.”

  “I didn’t know what to do, Jess. I didn’t know what to say. And the worst part was that I couldn’t get it out of my head, what happened between us. I thought about it over and over, and I’d fuck myself with my hand every night, thinking about it. Thinking about you. And then I’d hate myself, and then I’d…I’d hate you for making me feel this way.”

  “Blaze.” I closed the distance between us, smoothing my fingers through his hair and reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his face, trying to take away the misery creasing it. “I had no idea that you were blaming yourself this way. It’s insane. Stop it, okay?”

  He dug his fingers into my hip, pulling me closer. “I’d like to, but I’ve been like this for so long.”

  “Then let’s do this together, okay?” I said. “Let’s fix this thing between us. We’re worth it.”

  His gaze met mine, and there was so much hope, fear and vulnerability there, it took my breath away.

  And then it hit me. For the first time, I understood that all the loneliness and confusion I’d felt since coming here, Blaze had been feeling it too. But for him, it was so much worse because of this strange, needless guilt that he’d been carrying around.

  I reached up and put my hand on his face, wanting to take it all away.

  Wanting to make him forget.

  I leaned up and kissed him. The moment our lips met, heat bloomed between my legs in such an intense rush that I nearly fell over. I moaned against his mouth, and his fingers bit into my hips even harder as he pulled me against the iron-hard erection between us. I pressed my breasts against his chest so I could give him the same delicious torture.

  We kissed so hard our teeth clashed.

  Still I wanted more, and I felt like I’d die if I didn’t get it now.

  He must have felt the same way, because he pulled away long enough to strip off my shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and I marveled at the sensation of his palms smoothing over my hard nipples while his mouth came down on mine once again. His tongue swirled in my mouth, then came down and laved my nipple while his fingers worked the other nipple, thumbing and squeezing it.

  The sensation of his fingers and tongue on my breasts, and his impossibly hard cock pressed against me was nearly my undoing.

  I lifted my head back and moaned, then my hand wandered down to explore the part of him that made him profoundly different from me.

  I felt the smooth head poking out from the top of his jeans. I rubbed the flat of my hand over it, then let my palm travel down the hard column pressing against his zipper, wanting to feel more of him.

  “Not yet,” he said, gently guiding my hand away. Then in one swift move, he pulled off my yoga pants and underwear, and I was completely bared to him.

  His eyes raked over me hungrily, and I didn’t feel the least bit self conscious. Just the opposite. I felt shameless. Wanton. Willing to do anything to find my pleasure.

  He reached down and I felt two fingers part my flesh and then glide into me.

  “Your pussy is so wet,” he said. “I need to taste you.”

  He guided me down on the bed and spread my thighs wide, staring at me for a moment before uttering, “Beautiful.”

&nb
sp; Then he buried his tongue in my opening, brought it up to my clit, then glided down again.

  The only noise in the room was the wet, lapping sound of his mouth feasting on me, and then the strangled cries that tore from my throat as he stroked my pleasure higher and higher.

  He entered me with his fingers again, plunging them in and out of my opening as he tongued me at the same time. I felt my pleasure cresting, knew I was about to come. But somehow, I didn’t want my release this way. I wanted more. I wanted him inside me.

  I shimmied back on the bed, and he stood up, staring at me like a predator. He reached down and pulled down his zipper, his cock springing free.

  One again I was impressed by the sheer size of it. I reached out and wrapped my fist around it, and when I was halfway down, my fingers no longer met. The base was impossibly thick, and I marveled at the neat nest of dark curls at his pubis.

  I stroked his shaft up and down, delighting in the way it throbbed against my hand. I leaned down and licked the head, letting his sweet-salty taste fill my mouth. Rich, potent and deliciously male.

  I took him deeper into my mouth, savoring the needy gasps he made as I bobbed lower, at the taste of his salty skin against mine. The texture of him against my tongue, silky soft skin over a hot iron rod.

  I could have spent hours exploring him, tasting him, testing his movements and reactions. But before long, he guided me away from him.

  We both lay entwined on the bed, kissing. His fingers parted me again, pumping in and out.

  I pulled away long enough to say, “Please fuck me, Blaze. Let me feel you inside me.”