Stepbrotherly Love

Chapter 3

Stephen was charming. More than my heart could take, even with both our parents there with us. It didn't help that he would keep looking at me. I kept imagining the fire in his eyes, even when I looked away.

He was also a little smug like he knew the effect he had on me, and he played it out well.

Beneath his cool, polite exterior around Mom and Paul, and beneath that designer suit he wore, was a bad boy with tattoos and a love of hard s*x.

That last part, I knew because he turned my world on its axis one night when his dad took us out to eat. He'd got me to leave the table with a muttered excuse, nobody was really paying attention anyway, and I'd followed along, too curious to say no. The next thing I knew he had me backed up into a wall in a dark hallway. I had been trying my best not to look at him and failing at it, so when he undid his cuffs and rolled his sleeves back, I could only gape at the ink running down his right arm.

Because I was so preoccupied, I didn't even realize what he was doing until he had me with my back against the wall. He stood in front of me, but he didn't touch me. Oh no, he didn't touch me, but he was so close I could feel his body heat. My body shivered as I looked up to meet his eyes, feeling like prey caught in a predator's trap.

"See something interesting?" He asked with a lazy smirk.

My eyes fell to his arm, before quickly flitting back to his. He noticed the look, though. The smirk grew wider. I frowned because right then, he looked way too smug, but whatever he was thinking, he was likely not wrong, so I felt like I'd only be embarrassing myself if I tried to deny anything.

Besides, he hadn't actually said anything. I was bristling from just a look.

"You don't have to be so embarrassed," he said with a deep chuckle that sent shivers down my spine. "You're free to look at me all you want. And if you wanted to do more than just look, I'd be open to that, too."

My jaw dropped. "W-what?"

Inside, I wanted to cry. Why was I stuttering like an i***t? I wasn't like this around guys. I knew how to keep my cool around hot guys, and while it was true he was above average, and definitely above any man I had met before, he was still just another guy.

Wait, that wasn't right either. He was another guy that would be my brother tomorrow. Stepbrother, but legally, we would be related. So, the whole position we were in wasn't right.

"Can you please let me go?" I asked, though my voice came out a little breathless.

Obviously knowing the storm of reaction he was causing in me, he leaned a little closer, until I could feel his breath wash over my face. It smelled sweet, like the tiramisu he'd had for dessert. I wondered if it would be just as sweet to taste.

"You don't really want me to let you go, though," he murmured. "I've seen you looking at me, and you know what? I look at you too. I've been looking since you picked us up from the airport, and I want to try more than just looking." He grinned, a cocksure grin that made some twist in my stomach. "Do you want me to tell you what I'd like to do with you?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. After a second, I closed my mouth and swallowed. I was curious. When he saw my resistance was gone, he leaned even closer, until his mouth was right at my ear, and he whispered a string of filthy words that made me tilt my head so that I could hear more.

He told me exactly what he'd promised, and even though it was just words, it left me gasping and trembling against the wall. He didn't touch me, not really. His hands were on the wall to each side of my head, and I was panting and squirming at his words, but he didn't actually touch me.

Why won't you touch me?

The thought was filled with frustration, but I didn't voice it aloud. I could feel heat building between my thighs, and my n*****s hardened under my clothes. With every breath, they would rub against the fabric of my bra, and it would only push the desire higher.

Nothing happened, though. I was surprised at my own self-control. After saying what he wanted to say, he pulled away from me. He went to the bathroom, and I was left standing there, wanting, but fighting against that want.

The trouble, though, was that I regretted doing nothing. I ran off before he could come out of the bathroom. Mom and Paul were busy talking, and if Mom noticed I was acting weird at all, she didn't say a thing.

I avoided Stephen's gaze for the rest of the meal.

The real problem was that he ticked every box for the kind of guy I usually took to my bed, the kind of man that turned me on.

All I could think about the next day was that he was about to become my stepbrother. If I did anything now, I would definitely regret it later.

"Honey, come here."

I blinked and looked over my shoulder at Mom. We were getting her ready for the wedding, a couple of her friends had shown up to help with the last-minute touches. It really wasn't a big affair; the number of guests was just around fifty. But even though it wasn't her first wedding, it was still a big deal to Mom.

"Is there anything else left?" I asked, curious.

"I just need you to help me with these earrings. Paul got them for me, and I wanted to wear them today."

I walked over to her. I was done with my makeup, already.

"You look amazing, Mom," I said softly, taking the earrings from her.

She smiled, her blue eyes shining with tears. She was shorter than me at five foot four, but whereas I was wearing flats, she had on two-inch heel slippers that put us at the same height. Her blonde hair was done up with silver combs studded with diamonds, while I wore mine down around my shoulders. Her dress was of a simple design, with pearls set in a design around the front. She was fifty-six years old, but right then, she looked a lot younger, smiling happily at me.

"I'm so excited for today," she admitted. "Also, very nervous. It would be just like me to twist my ankle and trip in the middle of the aisle, even though I picked this dress because it wouldn't be too long in the front."

I chuckled and reached out to hug her. "It's okay, Mom. I'm walking you down the aisle, remember? I won't let you fall."

We hugged for a long moment; then it was time.

The wedding started in the afternoon, and the celebration went well into the evening. I didn't bring a date, and neither did Stephen, so we were pushed together a lot throughout the whole thing. When Mom and Paul had their first dance as a married couple, they insisted that the two of us start first. Other than that, I did my best to avoid him.

My heart just couldn't take it. He was sexy, sure. Totally attractive and a smug bastard about it, but he had his good points, too. His smile, when it was a smile and not a smirk meant to rile me up, was warm, and a little sweet. When he gazed at me, it didn't look like he just wanted to f**k me. He looked like he wanted more, and more was just not my thing.

He made me think about long nights filled with love, and bright days filled with laughter, too, and I found it kind of gross. That wasn't what I was after, but seeing him laugh with our parents, and mingle with the crowd, brought up these kinds of thoughts in me.

Why now? I mused to myself. I couldn't stand the happy atmosphere over something I was so sure I didn't want for myself. We were inside, so I stuck myself into a dark corner away from everyone else with a glass of champagne. My eyes would fall to Mom occasionally; Paul didn't leave her side once. Just as often, I'd find myself looking at Stephen. Why now, when he's now a part of my family?

Even if I could delude myself into thinking I wanted those things; it was impossible.

"What's impossible?"

I startled, looking up. I hadn't noticed Stephen coming close. He stood beside me, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he watched me with warm green eyes.

"Are you talking about what Dad and Amelia have?" He asked, glancing over at our parents.

The two of them were back to dancing, moving slowly as they talked and laughed. They looked like they were lost in their own world.

Mom looked so happy.

"If it's something you want, it's not impossible to get it," he said.

"No way," I muttered, frowning. "Definitely not."

A smile played on his lips. "You can't tell me you're not interested. I've been watching you, and you keep looking at them with this expression on your face that makes me think you want it. There's nothing wrong with that."

I shook my head. "It's wrong."

Since I'd been standing preoccupied, I'd barely drunk any of my champagne. I downed the liquid in my glass, so I could walk away from Stephen to look for more before he could say another word. No other man had ever made me even consider marriage, not since I was a young girl with big dreams, and when I finally did meet someone that was worth a dream or two, he was off the table for me.

The wedding had to end at some point, though it looked like everyone was ready to keep celebrating. Mom and Paul were going to miss their flight, though, and after another twenty minutes, they were saying goodbye to the guests and leaving.

Mom had told me they would be jetting off to France for their honeymoon, and she wasn't sure when they'd be back. Step-daddy was loaded, after all, and both of them were retired. They could take their time.

Meanwhile, Stephen and I were left at the swanky hotel on our own. Well, not completely on our own. The party was still winding down; there were a few people around. The band was still playing, though they were moving into their last song.

I knew I had to leave as well. I'd had a few glasses of champagne, and I was feeling a little tipsy. It was dangerous. Even if I tried to pretend his rich voice, teasing eyes and hard body didn't appeal to me, I knew I wouldn't be convincing.

Stephen caught me before I could make a run for it, though, and held a hand out to me.

"Could I have the last dance, Julia?" He asked, his voice even deeper. "It'll only be for a minute."

When he coaxed me like that, it was hard to say no. Dangerous. I knew he was, but I still put my hand into his, and once he dragged me over to the dance floor and into his arms, I could no longer resist.

He was so warm, I almost moaned. His wide palms were pressing against the small of my back; our fronts plastered together. He was a very sensual dancer, his hands running over my body as we swayed together, over my back, around my waist.

My desire rose. I wanted more, so much more. I wanted to get closer, and I wanted him to touch me without anything between his palms and my skin.

"Julia," he murmured against my ear. "Come up to my room with me."

The band stopped playing, and the few people still milling around had started leaving. The hotel staff would come to clean the room up soon.

Stephen had worn me down. At last, I couldn't say no to him. With my head buried in his neck, I nodded, just barely, but he felt it. He released all of me before taking my hand, and pulling me behind him as we headed for his hotel room.

The next hour was hazy, oh so wrong, but oh so amazing. In a sudden surge of utter madness, I found myself in his hotel room, naked and hot, ready for whatever he had to give me. I panted eagerly as he came to me in the bed, our bodies hot despite the air conditioning in the room.

Just this once, Julie, I said to myself, and only this once.

His heated lips pressed kisses down my bare neck, while his hands plunged into my hair. With eager, practiced hands he explored my nudity, until he found all the spots that made me beg for more.

My hands were just as eager to explore the masterpiece that was his body, until I found the firm, round swell of his ass and dug in. I did it to urge him into me, quickly, get it over with, end this nightmare of want that's like a pleasurable toothache. Rather than plunge into me, his lips circled my n****e and I arched my back. I pressed more of my breast into his mouth and he just sucked greedily. He only slowed down when his hands found my wet heat. He pulled away from my n****e to make a demand.

"Open, Julia." His voice, low and full of desire, didn't ask me to obey, it demanded it.

When his fingers found me, found just the right spot, I arched into them, while he drove me higher.

"Dylan! That's it baby." It entered my head that I'd just goaded my stepbrother into even more insanity, but I didn't care. I didn't ask him to stop, or run away in tears. Instead I raked my down his muscled back as he continued to slide his fingers into, his lips a sweet torture on my n*****s.

"I knew you'd make those sounds." He chuckled before he moved to the other breast, and I wanted to hit him, but if I did, he might stop, and I never wanted him to stop.

When his tongue stroked over the other n****e, I blew off into orbit. I hadn't expected it, wasn't prepared for it, but it took me and all I could do was hold on. I shook in his arms as he moaned his approval, his strong fingers a constant stroke that wouldn't let me come down.

For a moment, his fingers were gone, and I wanted to protest, but then he made me scream. His thick length plunged into me, and I could do was grip his hips with my thighs to hang on. He set a pace that told me he knew exactly what he was doing, and I let him have his way.

"Dylan!" I don't know what I wanted to say, but it didn't came out. All I could say was his name as he f****d into me, harder and harder. I loved every second of it.

"I knew that p***y wanted me, Julia. And she loves it." He groaned the words just to the side of my ear, and I wanted to tell him to f**k off, but he was right. Who was I to deny it?

We moved in time together, perfectly in time with each other, and the words stopped. Our eyes locked together when I felt the first tremble, a warning this time, at least. When I gasped, Dylan's eyes narrowed, and his fingers plunged between us to work at my clit.

"That's it, Julia. Show me what you look like when you c*m, baby."

He f****d me right through my orgasm, until he found his own with a strangled cry of pleasure. When it was over, when we'd stopped trembling and jerking I held him close to me. Only for a moment.

Later, in the light that came from the street lamps outside, I memorized the lines of his tattoo, until he woke up, pulled me to him, and started us off all over again.

When it was all over, I was left trembling and wanting more. But I'd regained my clarity as well, and the regret set in. Even though my body felt like it could melt into a boneless mess, I pulled away from Stephen's arms and his warm bed. I trembled all over, but I got myself dressed.

"I wouldn't mind if you stayed," Stephen said behind me.

I shook my head and spoke without looking at him.

"No. I'm sorry, but I can't. As great as this was, it can never happen again. We have to work together in a few days, and no one should ever find out about this. Ever."

The pull to stay was strong, but my fear at changing my routine was even stronger. My fear that we'd be discovered was even greater. Stephen didn't try to make me stay, and I hurried back to Mom's house.

Tomorrow, I'd go back to my apartment, go back to my job, and my old, uncomplicated life.

If only.