BRIX: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (A Rebels Havoc Book 1)

by Brooke O'Brien

  I think what hurts most of all is there are none. Once we finally gave in to each other, to the temptation that had been dangling in front of us, it was like the Brix I once knew was gone.

  He still had his asshole moments and tendencies, but behind all of it, he made me believe he cared. Even when I broke down the night at the beach house and exposed all my concerns and worries, he pulled me back into his lap and assured me there was nothing to fear.

  He lied to me, and just like he had set out to do, he had broken me.

  Finishing what’s left of my drink, I toss the cup in the trash and do my best to pull myself from the darkness for the rest of the night.

  “Hey, girl.” Kyla smiles as she slides up against the bar. Her phone is in her hand, her fingers typing furiously across the screen.

  “Hey,” I mutter, with barely enough energy to shout over the music. She picks up on my mood, her eyes narrowing as she tilts her head to look at me as if asking me what’s wrong.

  I roll my eyes, plastering a fake smile on my face, as I lean in to ask her what she wants to drink. She orders a martini. Her eyes bore into me as I go through the motions of preparing it for her.

  She doesn’t say anything as I help the crowd of people at the bar.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. Everything. I don’t even know.”

  “That sounds like a whole lot of I need a fucking drink.”

  I nod. “There’s so much to tell you. I can’t possibly go into it all right now.”

  Jayde looks down the bar at me, glaring. We’re busy, and I know it’s her way of saying focus more on helping customers and less on talking to my friend. I promise Kyla I’ll catch her up when my shift is over.

  Although, the more I think about it, the more I want to go straight home and not think about anything at all.

  It’s after midnight when my shift ends. The crowd died down a little bit as the night went on. I contemplate staying after to talk to Brix, to confront him and Tysin about everything, but I don’t have the energy right now.

  After punching out, I thank Oaklyn for helping pick up my slack tonight and split my tip money with her. She knew something was off with me and didn’t bat an eye at helping carry more of the load. When she refuses to take the money, I shove it in her pocket before turning and walking out, not giving her any choice.

  A Rebels Havoc is playing in my car; their playlist still up from my drive to work earlier. I want to turn it off, I even reach my hand out for the button when I pull back.

  The tears I’ve fought back all night fill my eyes once more, only this time I let them flow free. I give myself time to feel the emotions before I lock it up and focus on how I am going to move on.

  I know what I have to do from here. It isn’t going to be easy. In fact, it is probably going to break me, but I’ll never let him know.

  I’ll never let him see me broken. He doesn’t deserve to know he got through to me.

  Twenty-Four

  Brix

  I didn’t believe Jayde when she told me Ivy took off after her shift. I thought surely she’d let me know before she’d leave. I tried calling her several times on my drive home, each call going straight to voice mail.

  A wave of relief washes over me pulling in the driveway. Although every light in the house is off, her car is parked where it normally sits.

  Oaklyn mentioned she thought maybe she wasn’t feeling well, but it didn’t explain why she didn’t bother to text me. Pushing all thoughts aside, I walk into the house and jog up the stairs heading straight for her room.

  When I open her door, I expect to find her in the middle of her bed, curled up in a ball with a blanket pulled over her, like usual. An unshakeable sense settles over me that something is wrong when I find her bed perfectly made, left untouched.

  Shutting the door behind me, I race down the hall, opening the door to my bedroom. The lights are turned down low. It is still dark, but there’s enough light for me to see her and make out what she’s wearing.

  She moves her leg, crossing one over top of the other. My eyes zero in on the heels on her feet, remembering them from the first night she was in town. She points her toe, causing the muscles in her legs to flex, and all I can think about is kissing every inch from her ankle to her thigh.

  Stepping in closer, my eyes fall to her chest and the black nightie she’s wearing.

  “Everything okay?” My voice comes out hoarse. The fear I felt a moment ago is now replaced with desire, seeing what she’s wearing, knowing she was waiting for me to come home.

  She doesn’t answer, but I see her subtle nod.

  Holding my hand out to her, I help her stand, watching her turn to show me the backside of her outfit. I groan seeing the crisscross of the ties along her back down to the barely-there scrap of material covering her pussy.

  “Sit.” Her words are firm, commanding, pointing to the chair sitting in the middle of my room. I had been so focused on her, I hadn’t even noticed it until she pointed it out.

  Pulling my shirt over my head, I toss it behind me, not bothering to pay attention to where it lands.

  She steps behind me, holding out a scarf in her hand. It takes me a second, but when the smell of coconut hits my nose, I realize it’s the wrap she wore at the beach. Using it to cover my eyes, I’m bathed in darkness. Grabbing each of my hands, she moves them, forcing them to grip the edge of the seat.

  “Don’t move your hands, or I stop. Understand?”

  I want to press timeout, ask her if she’s okay, if we’re okay, but the moment her mouth trails along the column of my neck, all rational thoughts are out the window.

  Her hands are on my waist, unbuttoning my pants, guiding them down around my ankles.

  It’s quiet for a moment, hearing a subtle click in the distance before music begins playing, soft at first until the volume is turned up louder. My body settles into the chair, my fingers clenching the hardwood in anticipation.

  I feel something warm and wet dripping on my thighs before her hands glide over me, massaging the warm oil into my skin, starting near my knee, traveling up my leg. She continues to rub her fingers, tracing a line hovering dangerously close to my aching cock before sliding back down again. Each time she gets closer and closer to touching me. Just when I think she may put me out of my misery, her hand begins to travel away from where I want her.

  “Fuck, baby,” I moan, “I want to feel your mouth on me so damn bad.”

  She doesn’t respond, doesn’t make a move to wrap her hand around my dick. She just continues to massage the warm liquid into my thighs, over my abs, and into my chest.

  She trails her fingers back down my stomach, brushing over the tip of my cock. I bite down on my lower lip, the subtle touch of her hand on me turns me on more. My leg begins to bounce, my stomach clenching with need.

  As if reading my mind, her hand wraps around the base of my cock, tight, as she pumps.

  “Ahhhh, fuck,” I mutter, thrusting my hips up into her touch. Her hands are warm, sliding over me with ease as she pumps. “Fuck, fuck. Baby, your hand feels so fucking good,” I groan.

  Her hand alternates between moving slow over the tip, before tightening and jerking me harder. I’m on the brink, feeling like my orgasm is within reach, when her hand lets go, leaving me forcing a heavy breath.

  I wish I could see her, touch her. I want to feel her skin and kiss her lips.

  “I want to feel you so damn bad,” I moan again.

  “Where?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific if you want me to continue.”

  “I want to feel your pussy wrapped around me, squeezing me like a fucking vise. I want your mouth on mine and your arms around my neck. I want to feel you milking me until we both cum. Is that fucking good enough? Get on top of me. Right. Now.”

  She doesn’t say anything, as I feel her skin brush against my leg, her warm hands grab onto my shoulders. I don’t kno
w what I thought she was doing, but when I feel her pussy lower onto me, my eyes damn near roll into the back of my head.

  “Kiss me,” I moan, wanting to feel her lips on mine.

  Her hands grip the base of my neck, squeezing as her lips trace the line of my jaw. Her legs are sitting on the outside of my thighs as she rides me hard and fast.

  Her hips grind against me, and the urge to reach out and hold her against me is at war within me.

  As much as I want to let her take over and call the shots taking her pleasure, I also can’t deny how bad I wish I could hold her and make love to her slowly.

  “Ivy,” I groan, reaching out to slide my hands over her thighs, helping guide her movements. She stops for a moment before she continues. All bets are off now. Reaching one hand up, I rip the wrap off my head.

  Her head is thrown back as I ravage her chest. She’s still dressed in her lingerie. Pulling her top down, I grab her breast in my hand, taking her nipple in my mouth, sucking hard.

  “Oh, God.” She snakes her arms around my neck while she continues to ride me. Grabbing her by her thighs, I lift her into my arms, tightening her legs around my waist, carrying her over to the bed.

  Setting her down on the edge, I carefully slide off her heels, letting them fall on the floor as I pull her nightie over her head. I follow her as she climbs up the bed. Moving her leg over my shoulder, I line my dick up with her center, brushing the tip over her pussy.

  “Does that feel good?”

  She nods as she throws her head back, opening her legs wider for me as I enter her slowly. Just the head at first, before pulling all the way out and then taking her hard and fast.

  Moving both of her thighs over my shoulders, I bend her body back as I fuck her. We move like that, chasing our orgasms before she slides her legs down around my waist.

  Pinning her down between my arms, I press a deep kiss against her lips. I don’t know what it is about this kiss, but it feels different. It doesn’t feel like it’s just Brix and Ivy; now it’s like there’s something more there. Something deeper.

  My movements slow, as her fingers dig into my lower back, holding me to her as I thrust in and out. Easing up, I peer down at her, her eyes bright as she stares up at me.

  “I love you, Ivy,” I murmur, with every ounce of love left in me.

  Unshed tears fill her eyes as she grabs my neck, pulling me in close to her again.

  “I want you to cum with me.”

  Ivy’s hand slides down between us, her fingers moving with urgency as she brushes over her swollen bud down her pussy lips to wrap around my dick then back up again. Each time she brushes over her clit, her grip on my dick tightens.

  “Oh, God, baby.”

  “I’m coming,” she moans, her walls and legs both tighten around me. Thrusting deep once more, I collapse next to her, pulling her with me to press her back against my chest. Every ounce of energy I have drains out of me.

  I don’t even remember falling asleep, exhaustion sinking in and swallowing me whole. A little while later, I jostle, expecting to find Ivy with her body melded against mine.

  Lifting my head off the pillow, I look around for any sign of her, my arm reaching out to pat the empty bed next to me.

  “Ivy?” I yell out.

  The music and the lights overhead are both off now, enveloping the room in silence and darkness.

  Swinging my legs over the side of the mattress, I feel around for my pants near the chair and pull on my briefs. I check the bathroom first, expecting to find her there, but when the light is off, a knot in my stomach coils.

  “Ivy?” I shout.

  Pushing the door open to her room, I search, hoping maybe she came back in here. Her closet door is open, and I immediately notice all of her clothes that once hung there are now gone.

  It takes me a second to register what I’m seeing as I flick the light on. I pull the drawers to her dresser open, looking for some missing clue as to what is going on. My eyes are frantic, looking for some sort of explanation for where she went and why all her clothes are missing.

  “Ivy!” I holler, louder this time as I race into the hallway, peering over the balcony to the living room.

  The only other place I would expect to see her, on the couch, is empty as well.

  Turning back around to head to my room for my phone, something on her bed catches my eye. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but it looks like a note.

  I nearly trip as I run toward it, panic-stricken.

  Picking up the envelope, red lips cover the back over the seal. My fingers brush over the kiss as I tear it open pulling out the notecard.

  Joke’s on you

  What? Joke’s on me?

  My knees hit the floor as the world around me spins.

  She knows. She found out, and she left.

  Pushing myself to my feet, I sprint down the stairs toward the front door. As I open the large, wood door, stepping out onto the stoop, I call out her name over and over.

  Her car is gone.

  Ivy is gone.

  Ivy is gone.

  I repeat the words over and over as I fall back, sitting in the doorway, running my hands through my hair, staring down at the note in my hand.

  She found out about the bet.

  Tonight, I told her I loved her.

  She left.

  The joke’s on me.

  Twenty-Five

  Brix

  “Hi, my name is Brix. I’m here for Tamara Ward.”

  “Yes, Ms. Tamara has been looking forward to seeing you. If you want to have a seat, she will be out in just a few minutes.”

  I eye the row of chairs lining the wall. They are hard and dingy, but hopefully, I won’t be waiting for too long.

  It feels like I’ve waited for this day for much longer than sixty days. When my mom was admitted into rehab, I wasn’t sure what the other end of her time here would look like.

  Over the course of the past two months, I’ve been here a few times to meet with her and her counselor. One of the steps to her going back home is to understand who she’ll be around and what her new life will look like.

  We decided it is best she move in with my Uncle Travis. While he does have my niece staying with him, he shares custody with his ex, and she would be able to help her.

  Things have moved fast for me and the guys. We recently met with Lights Off Records and they’ve offered us a record deal. It’s a huge break for us, and if all goes well, we’ll have our own album coming out next year.

  The last few months have been hell, though. Since Ivy left, I haven’t felt like myself. Well, at least the man I was when we were together. She won’t talk to me, not that I can blame her. I’ve been the one who has written most of our music up until this point, and ever since she left, I can’t bring myself to write a word. The guys and our label have been pressuring me to get something done.

  I’ve been able to hold them off so far, telling them things with my mom have taken up most of my thoughts.

  Which isn’t a lie.

  The full truth is I can’t even connect with anything I write. My mind and my heart aren’t in it. I’m on the brink of getting everything we’ve worked so hard for, and all I can think about is Ivy.

  “Brix.” I hear my mom’s voice filter through the room.

  Tears sting my eyes at the sound of her voice. Every time I hear her talk, her words clear, brings me back to when I was younger. I don’t even remember the last time I heard my mom speak to me sober.

  The thought reaches into my chest, wrapping itself around my heart with a vise grip.

  “Mom,” I murmur, standing as she wraps her arms around me.

  She even smells like her, like she did before. Like lavender, only now it’s mixed in with the sterile scent of this place.

  “It’s so good to see you, honey.”

  “You, too, Mom.”

  She pulls back, tears filling her eyes. She reaches her hand out, pressing her palm against my cheek as she flashes me he
r warm smile.

  “Don’t cry.” I pull her in, giving her another hug. “You’re too pretty to cry, Ma. It’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay,” she sighs, her arms wrapped tightly around me.

  She’s come a long way, and I’m so ready to take her home.

  “You got your stuff?” I ask as she steps back.

  I spot the duffel bag a few feet behind her, having dropped it when she stepped out in the hallway. Brushing her fingers beneath her eyes, she wipes her tears, before bending down to pick up her bag.

  I recognize Clint, the director, standing behind her with a smile on his face.

  “You ready, Tamara?”

  “Yes.” She smiles. Her confidence in just one word fills me with so much hope. While it won’t always be easy, she’s in a much better place mentally than she’s ever been.

  “We’ll see you this Wednesday for group. Have a good weekend.”

  He folds his hands in front of him as we pass by and out the door.

  The moment the sun hits my mom’s face, she pauses and takes a deep breath.

  “I forgot how much I love stopping to enjoy the fresh air.”

  “Well, we’ll have to drive back to town with the windows down then.”

  We used to go for drives with the windows down and the music turned up growing up. It’s how my love of music first began, sitting in the back of her old station wagon with Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash playing on the stereo.

  Lifting her bag into the back of my truck, I hold the door open for her while she climbs into the passenger seat.

  “I’ll even let you pick the radio station.” I grin, slipping the key in the ignition.

  “Wow. I feel really special now.” She laughs. “Go ahead and play whatever you want, sweetie.”

  I opt to start with a song from a playlist I know she’ll like. As soon as the song starts playing, she closes her eyes, tilting her head back against the headrest.