Jace realizes that I need relief, so he takes me up in his arms and carries me to his room. Then, he lays me on the bed and spreads my legs open. I put my ankles on his shoulders, he puts his hands on my thighs, and we stay like that for just a few seconds before he bends over and plunges his tongue inside me. After a few good, long licks, he zeros in on my clit, rolling his tongue against it in steady, powerful circles. I moan his name, and he starts licking faster.
I look over at the wall, where there’s a poster of me in a bikini, leaning over the hood of a red sports car. It’s the last thing I see before my eyes roll back into my head, Jace’s tongue bringing me seconds away from ecstasy…
I wake up with a gasp, throwing my blanket off and sitting bolt upright on the couch.
Yuck! What kind of nasty dream was that!? This is all Jace’s fault for making all those sexual innuendos today. He planted a seed in my subconscious, and apparently, it’s grown into a huge tree.
That’s definitely not going in my dream journal. I think about taking a shower to wash the Jace feeling off my body, but decide that I’d be better off just going back to sleep.
There’s only one problem. I’m soaked between my legs, absolutely desperate for relief. I try every position I could think of on the couch to try and get back to sleep, but nothing helps. And since I definitely don’t want to have another stepbrother sex dream, so I decide to take care of the ache before I go back to sleep.
I bite my lip as my hand travels into my pants, finishing what Dream Jace started. After such an intense dream, it’s hard to think of anyone else as my fingers start to do their magic. I cycle through the hottest guys I can think of, trying to finger myself to anyone but Jace. It’s not easy, but it still isn’t long before I’d bring myself over the edge, moaning and writhing on the couch.
Much better. Now, I’m ready to get back to sleep. I lean over the edge of the couch to pull the blanket back over me, and that’s when I see it.
The door to Jace’s room is closed, and the light is on. Oh God, he must have come back while I was asleep. I clamp my hand over my mouth, but it’s way too late to be quiet. There’s a pretty good chance that my stepbrother had just heard me get myself off. Oh God, what if I was saying his name in my sleep?
I want to shrink into the little crack between the couch cushions and disappear forever. As I pull the blanket back up over me, I see that there’s a piece of paper lying near the foot of the couch, and I pick it up to see what it is.
It’s the contract. The exact same one that I found on Jace’s nightstand four years ago, the thing that made me move all the way across the country because I didn’t want to face it.
And now, I’m holding it in my hands again. Only now, there’s a sticky note stuck to the front.
You know you want to.
I set the contract back down on the floor and lie back against the couch. My heart races, and the ache between my legs returns with a vengeance.
That’s the problem. What if I do?
Chapter 11: Haley
When I wake up, I notice that Jace’s door is open and his room is dark. I let out a huge sigh of relief. I’m not particularly eager to find out whether or not he’d heard me touching myself last night, and I definitely don’t want to hear anything else about me signing his perverted little contract. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I pick it up and read it again.
By signing this contract, I, _____________, agree to abide by the following rules while living with my stepbrother, Jace Fisher:
*I will accompany Jace to any party, gathering, or event he asks me to.
*I will allow Jace to pick out my outfits, giving him control over what I wear at home and what I wear when I leave the house.
*I will sleep in Jace’s bed.
*I will ask Jace’s permission whenever I want to hang out with a male friend.
*I will ask Jace’s permission before I hang out in a group that includes two or more men.
*I will not touch myself without Jace’s permission.
*I will not tell Jace’s mother, stepfather, or birth father about this contract.
*Whenever Jace gives me an order, I will follow it or accept the consequences.
I remember how terrifying it felt to hold this thing in my hands four years ago. It felt like something official…something powerful. Now, it clearly reads like it was written by an 18 year old, typed up on a word processor, and printed out onto a sheet of nice paper.
Jace still wants me to sign it, though. And unless I want to be totally under his control for the next two months, I have to think of an excuse that’ll stop him from pestering me about it.
Ignoring a strange desire to read the contract again, I lay it down on the floor and head into the bathroom so I can take a shower. When I turn on the bathroom lights, though, I see that Jace has left me another surprise.
There’s a dress hanging from the shower curtain. It’s black and gold, expensive looking, and looks like it would never fit me in a million years. Stuck to the front of it, there’s another sticky note:
Since I’m sure you’ve signed the contract by now, I thought I would go ahead and pick out your first outfit. If you’re going to show off all that skin, you might as well do it in style.
I look down at my roommate’s top, the only clothing I’d been able to bring from California. It’s pretty low-cut, she usually wears it to get laid, and it looks borderline obscene on my curvier body. I’d also just slept in it, so I don’t exactly want to wear it out.
Then, I look up at the dress Jace bought me and narrow my eyes. If I put it on, I’ll be letting him win in a big way. On the other hand, if I refuse the gift, it definitely won’t stop Jace from teasing me, and even back in San Diego, I don’t have that many clothes that scream “high society…”
Well, there’s no harm in just trying it on, right? I’m sure it’s outrageously skimpy and nothing I’d ever be caught dead wearing, so once I put it on, I’m not going to regret telling Jace where to shove it later.
I strip out of my roommate’s clothes and pull on the dress.
Holy shit, how much did this cost? It looks even more expensive on me than it did hanging up. I make a full turn in the mirror, frustrated because it makes me look amazing. Somehow, Jace picked out a dress that fits me perfectly, a dress that’ll instantly be the nicest article of clothing I owned if I accept it. It’s short, low-cut, and definitely shows off a lot of skin, but it makes me look elegant…elegant and sexy. It’s not a look that I’m really used to.
Alright, Jace. You win. I’ll wear your dress. It doesn’t mean I’m going to sign your stupid contract.
After I get out of the shower, I text Erika, my best friend from high school, telling her that I’m in New York and asking if she wants to meet up. She sends me back a super excited all caps text telling me to meet her at the bar where she works. Then, admiring my reflection one more time before I leave the suite, I text Jace.
Thanks for the dress…just a heads up though, I think you left some trash on the floor last night.
His reply is almost immediate.
Sorry, didn’t want to wake you up when I got home. You looked like you were having such a nice dream.
My heart jumps into my throat. I wasn’t talking in my sleep last night, was I? Without knowing how much information Jace knows about that unfortunate little dream, I decide that it’s better not to respond to his text.
I mean, it has to be a coincidence. There’s no way I was literally moaning Jace’s name in my sleep. Right?
Chapter 12: Haley
Even on the streets of Manhattan, I stand out like a sore thumb walking around in a dress like this in the middle of the day. People of all ages and genders turn to look at me as I pass them, and after what feels like a thirty minute walk down a runway, I find Erika’s bar, a small, New Orleans-themed place nestled between a pizza parlor and a ramen shop. Erika opens the door when she sees me, running up to me and wrapping me up in a huge hug.
“We�
��re not open yet,” she says, “But I can raid the kitchen and make you some jambalaya if you want.”
“That sounds great,” I say, “Why do you have Mardi Gras beads around your neck?”
Erika rolls her eyes.
“It’s part of the uniform. The owner won’t change it even though we constantly get drunk assholes asking us to flash them. Did you just come from a party? Why are you dressed like that?”
A few minutes later, as we sit in a booth in the back of the bar over two big plates of jambalaya, Erika’s jaw hangs open as I tell her about the events of the past couple days. She’s totally jealous, but she’s obviously super happy for me.
“Okay,” she says, “So let me get this straight: you’re living in a suite with your gorgeous stepbrother and you’re about to become stupidly rich. Why the long face?”
“I mean, he’s gorgeous to you. To me, he’s like a cross between an annoying little brother and an annoying big brother, except amplified in every way because society rewarded his ego.”
“So? That doesn’t explain why you look so conflicted. What problems could you possibly have right now?”
“It’s Jace,” I say, unsure whether or not I want to tell her the truth about what’s weighing on my mind, “He’s…well…let’s start at the beginning, I guess.”
There’s one other guy in the bar, getting ready to open the place, so I have to keep urging Erika to stop freaking out as I tell her about the contract. I really don’t want this getting out, but Erika’s good at keeping secrets, and I need someone else’s perspective on this.
“I’d sign it,” Erika says, without hesitation.
“Why?”
“Because if Jace Fisher wanted to fuck me, I’d fuck him, stepbrother or not.”
“Erika! That’s so awkward!”
“You met him when you were 18, Haley. It makes total sense that he’d be into you. You’re, like, the ultimate challenge, you know?”
“Jace isn’t doing this because he wants to fuck me, though, he’s doing it to torment me. He knows I hate awkward situations, so he’s putting me in one for his own amusement.”
Erika smirks.
“Keep telling yourself that, Haley. You know how I know Jace has a big, fat crush on you? He comes by this bar once every couple of months and asks me for updates on you.”
“What!?”
“Yeah, and I try and flirt with him, and so does girl in the place the second he walks in the door, but he never takes the bait. He only ever wants to know about how you’re doing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was doing that?”
“Well…uh…he asked me not to, and at the time I thought I might have had a chance with him?”
“Okay, but that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me! It’s not weird for a stepbrother to care about his stepsister, right?”
Erika gives me a look. “Haley, he’s totally head over heels for you, and the contract is just proof! It’s his way of finding out if you feel the same way about him.”
I want to object, but I feel like I don’t have a leg to stand on. As I look embarrassedly down at my jambalaya, my phone gets a text.
“Is it Jace?” Erika asks as I pull out my phone.
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
Are you wearing that dress right now?
I set my phone in my lap, trying as hard as I can not to blush.
“It says…thanks for doing the dishes last night.”
“Okay, Haley, it definitely doesn’t say that. What did he actually say? Is he sexting you?”
“He’s not sexting me!” I shout.
The guy behind the bar looks over at us, raises his eyebrows, and goes back to cleaning out the shot glasses.
Holding my phone under the table, I type out a quick response.
Yes.
Again, Jace’s response is immediate. What’s he doing right now where he can wait by his phone like this?
I’m disappointed that you haven’t thanked me for buying you that dress. You know how you can make it up to me? By taking a picture of yourself wearing it and sending it to me.
I’m blushing hard now, Erika’s words echoing through my head. How could I have thought Jace’s intentions were innocent when he keeps saying stuff like this?
I’m at a bar with my friend…
“I’m insanely jealous of you right now,” says Erika.
Before I can say anything to Erika, Jace responds.
Tick tock, Haley. The sooner you send me that picture, the more grateful I’ll know that you are.
That’s what I get for accepting Jace’s gift and thinking that there weren’t going to be any consequences. For a second, I consider telling Jace to fuck off, but I think better of it. This is probably the wrong hill to die on.
“Is it okay if I step out for a second?” I ask Erika.
She smiles knowingly.
“Go ahead,” she says, “But you better stop holding out on me.”
“Trust me,” I say, getting out of my seat and heading towards the door, “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
I walk out of the front door of the bar and position my back against a brick wall. Then, I hold my phone out in front of me, snap a picture of me rolling my eyes and flipping off the camera, and send it to Jace.
He responds a few seconds later.
Wow…that is NOT appropriate behavior from a future RentNation executive. You’d better sign that contract so I can start teaching you how to act like a proper young lady……
I bite my lip as I read Jace’s text, trying to think of a snappy comeback for a few seconds before I decide to change the subject.
Seriously, though, thanks for the dress…where are you, by the way?
Chapter 13: Jace
Business meeting. Super boring. See you tonight?
The photographer clears her throat. “Ready for the next round of photos?”
“Ready when you are,” I say, putting my phone away.
Technically, this was supposed to be a business meeting. I was supposed to be talking to Hot Pink magazine about putting ads for RentNation in their next issue, but they wouldn’t agree to it unless I agreed to a photo shoot. I’ve been on the cover of magazines before, but being on one by accident is definitely a new experience.
The photographer looks through her photos.
“Hmm…these look a little too professional…”
“Is that a bad thing?” I ask.
“Well…you know…we usually want these spreads to be a little…”
“Sexier,” I say.
“Yeah,” she says, smirking a little as her eyes dart up and down my body.
“Do you want me to take off my shirt?” I ask.
The photographer closes her eyes for a second, savoring the image.
“Yeah, that might work,” she says.
“What if you took some pictures of him with a woman?” Amber asks, “That way, he could keep his clothes on, and you could get the professionalism and the sex at the same time.”
“That’s a great idea,” says the photographer, who clearly hadn’t noticed Amber until just this moment, “Who are you?”
“I’m Amber, Jace’s personal assistant. He takes me everywhere.”
Amber beams at the photographer, clearly trying to get herself an up-close-and-personal photo shoot with me. I think about mentioning to the photographer that this is the first place I’ve ever taken Amber to as my personal assistant and possibly the last, but I hold my tongue.
“Hey, maybe I should do the photo shoot with Jace,” Amber says, dropping all pretense of subtlety, “After all, you guys probably don’t have any professional models here right now, do you?”
“Actually, we do,” says the photographer, “We’re shooting our summer fashion pages downstairs. I’ll just call somebody up.”
As Amber slinks away with disappointment all over her heavily made-up face, a model arrives from downstairs. She’s thin, red-haired, and pale, and
when she sees who she’s going to be shooting with, she smiles flirtatiously at me. Obviously, her pastel-colored floral sundress isn’t going to do, so the photographer finds a red cocktail dress that fits her, and she decides to get changed right in front of me, making eye contact the whole time as she strips down to her underwear.
Once she’s dressed, the next round of photos begins. Luckily, since the model’s going to draw most of the attention away from me, all I have to do is stand there and look hot: something I’ve always been good at. As the photo shoot goes on, the photographer starts putting us into increasingly intimate positions. We take a photo with her hands on my chest, a photo where she’s kissing my cheek, and a photo where we’re looking into each other’s eyes.
Judging by the way I’m getting ogled, it looks like this model, the photographer, and Amber all want to fuck my brains out. Normally, I’d get everyone’s numbers and end up fucking at least two of these three by the end of the week.
But for some reason…I’m not in the mood. It’s not that the girls aren’t hot. I just don’t feel like living up to my reputation right now.
And with no intention of actually sleeping with these three girls, the subtle possessiveness they’re all showing towards me is starting to get old. I’ve given this magazine more than enough material to get one of my ads on the back cover. Now, it’s time to go.
“This is amazing,” says the photographer, “You two look like you’re going to fuck as soon as the cameras go away.”
“That’s what I was going for,” says the model, batting her eyelashes at me and squeezing my hand.
“So, you have everything you need?” I ask.
“Yeah,” says the photographer, “And since we finished early, I could stick around and help you with any personal photographs you might want……”
I laugh as I imagine getting the photographer to take a full frontal Playgirl-style shot of me and sending it to Haley, but I think better of it.
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