by Eden O'Neill
“We brought danishes for you too, sweetheart.”
My heart would warm had I not had a naked boy up against me, a boy whose gaze shot toward the door the moment my dad’s voice drifted inside.
And what a simmer it held.
Brett’s hand literally curled around my waist at the presence of my dad, his entire body stiff and rigid. The appearance of my father obviously bothered him, as it should because that was my dad on the other side of the door. My adoptive father had always been pretty laid-back, but at the end of the day, the man raised me, had been in my life since I was eleven, and I was his little girl. I was still that even at twenty-two and about to be a senior in college. Dad wouldn’t be happy Brett was in here at all, and I shoved Brett out of his stupor.
“You have to go,” I whisper-growled, picking up his stuff and nudging him toward the window. He stood solid, an impenetrable landmass, and my heart raced inside my chest. “What are you doing?”
“Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind.” His look peeled away from the door and settled on me. If my dad bothered him before, there was no tell of that now, his hands gathering my waist and tugging me to him. His nose graced my cheek. “Don’t make me leave, Cleo. I want you.”
Good fucking God.
Internally groaning, I obviously had a weakness for guys who gave off Chris energy. A kiss to my neck and I knew I was letting him stay. What I didn’t know was how I’d make that happen with my dad on the other side of the door. I patted his chest. “Okay. Just… get in the closet or something.”
He smirked. “The closet?”
“Yes, I’ll make up an excuse or something. Get them to run to the store real quick.”
It’d buy us more time if anything else.
He didn’t move, still holding me, but him hiding was not negotiable this time. I pushed him toward the closet, and by the grace of God, he moved his gargantuan-sized legs. I opened the walk-in, pushing him inside and when I stepped back to close the door, he smiled at me ever so innocently. He also kept his clothes strategically placed over his johnson, looking freaking cute as hell, and I seriously thought I’d melt.
“Hon?” Dad called.
Gah!
I shut the door on his cute smile, knowing I’d have to do some fast talking to get my parents out.
I’d only been thanking the heavens above Brett hadn’t driven over here. We’d both taken ride shares out to the club, so when we left, we did the same back here. No way would I be able to explain a guy’s car in my driveway.
I was seriously screwed, something I knew because getting my parents out, even to go to the store, when they’d just arrived wouldn’t be easy. They’d come home early to spend time with me, and they hadn’t just come into town to see me off to school, but my stepbrother too. He was due to arrive later today and was my adoptive father’s kid from his previous marriage.
A long story, but I hadn’t actually met my stepbrother, Jaxen Ambrose, even though our parents had been married since we were both eleven. Jaxen’d chosen to stay in the Midwest with his mom while his dad obviously lived with my mom and me. I’d remembered being really sad about that when I was a kid, learning I had a step-sibling only later to find out I wouldn’t be seeing him. I guessed Rick and Jaxen’s mom had a rough divorce. I didn’t know the details, but hadn’t questioned it and definitely respected Jaxen’s decision to stick with his mom. Mine had been my rock since my own dad left.
It took me a real long time to get over that, my dad abandoning my mom and me. In fact, I still wasn’t completely over it, but I had moved on. That was made easier by the man who adopted me at the age of thirteen. Rick Fairchild had been the cornerstone of this family for a long time, and I knew he was really looking forward to Jaxen coming down here. Jaxen’d decided to come here to finish up his senior year, in college like me. We already had so much in common, and I was looking forward to meeting him.
I hadn’t had siblings in a long time.
My crap together and some clothes put on, I made it to the door, opening it up and seeing my dad’s face. He had his suit on, well partially. He hadn’t worn the jacket, but still presented as a congressman through and through. His tie was navy, an American flag pinned to it. A wide smile, and he gave me the biggest hug.
“I was starting to think something was wrong,” he said, pulling away. He had dark hair, naturally curly but always moused it back for work. The man I called my father never had a single hair out of place, nor a five o’ clock shadow on his jaw. Not even during Christmas when he and Mom didn’t have to work. He just always had things together, which had been so important for me and my mom. We needed that a long time ago, thrived on it.
I hugged him again, super tight. I missed him whenever he and Mom were away.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Much. I only had a boy in my closet. A boy I had no idea how I’d let go. I released Dad. “Sorry. Just woke up.”
This obviously surprising him, his head tilted. “My daughter sleeping past ten? Wow, are you sure you’re my Cleo?”
Chuckling, I told him I was. He threw an arm around me in response, my dress definitely lazy today. He asked about that too as I usually came out of my room in workout clothes in the morning. I liked to run before five generally.
“Late start,” I said on our way down the hallway. I’d have to send them to the store for something, but if I led with that, he’d probably push and find that weird. After all, he’d just gotten here and that would be weird. I always liked to see both him and Mom when they arrived.
For now, I decided to let him lead me downstairs. “Kit took me out, so yeah, I was up pretty late.”
Dad and Mom knew all about Kit. We’d been roommates since freshman year, and funny enough, we grew up in the same town but didn’t know about each other until we’d been assigned our living arrangements. We’d been joined at the hip ever since, the girl my best friend. Like most people, I didn’t see many of my old friends anymore when we all parted ways after high school to go to college. We still kept up with each other in one way or the other, but for the most part, we didn’t talk a whole lot. A big reason for that was me. I wasn’t really about social media so much. I was more into activism and volunteering on campus. I’d even done a mission trip earlier this summer abroad, the time of my life.
Dad and I found my mom in the kitchen reading the paper. She was in a pleated skirt and white blouse, the perfect pairing to my dad. He’d just had his dress slacks and white shirt on, but his blazer rested across the kitchen island.
“Look who I found,” Dad proclaimed, kissing the top of my head. “Sleeping in past ten.”
“Who are you and where is my first born?” she asked, still saying that. It’d been years since my brother and she still called me her first born.
The first like there were others now.
Mom’s thoughts obviously hadn’t traveled where mine had. Her brown eyes warmed, same tone as mine. We shared a bright hazel as well as our brunette hair. Mom kept hers in a bun most days. She grinned. “Should I take your temperature?”
“Mom,” I groaned. Dad dropped his arm and I wandered over to my mom’s waiting arms. “Stop. I slept in. So what.”
“So what?” she eyed Dad behind me. “I’ve only been telling her that for years.”
Dad flashed nothing but his teeth. “I’m telling you, Invasion of the Body Snatchers. This isn’t our child.”
“Clearly.” She jostled me. “How have you been? You had a late night or something?”
Something like that.
My gaze drifted toward the ceiling, but with a nudge, my mom had me sitting on a barstool beside her.
My parents had a wide kitchen in our suburban home, the multi-level within only two miles of the beach. I grew up within a short drive of the Miami coast, but could count how many times I’d actually been to Miami on one hand. I loved the sun, but preferred our more modest-sized town and the childhood home I grew up in. When we were all here, my parents and I, the place was always
full. Mom and Dad constantly had events, both family gatherings and business. I remember being a teen while they hosted dinner parties for the neighborhood, but no matter how busy they got, they always made sure to tuck me in. I had more than one nanny growing up, but never, not once, did my mom and dad make me feel like they didn’t care, like they weren’t there for me. They were off changing the world, my role models whom I respected and loved. Our house was such a family place, welcoming with its feel, which was why Mom and Dad said they’d bought it.
“We wanted a place for you to bring back your babies.”
Mom always said that, the home reserved to be filled up with grandchildren. Of course, I’d never slowed down enough to even think about that. I’d been ultra-focused on school and my volunteer work. I did orchestra for a time too before I got too busy.
Mom’s hand came to tug at my waist-length hair, the haircut definitely needed on my end. My mousy brown hair nearly hit my butt, and though it was completely unmanageable, I only liked to cut it after it was long enough to donate. I supposed with my parents’ work in politics and helping people, I’d always gravitated toward that too. I couldn’t do much in school, but always actively tried to help out where I could. My mission trip had been to Haiti.
Mom immediately started asking about that. I hadn’t seen them except for a drop-in here and there all summer, and they really did only come home now to see me off before going back to school. That and, of course, to be here when my stepbrother Jaxen arrived. From what I understood, his plane was scheduled to come in sometime this evening.
I might have asked them about that.
Had I not heard movement on the stairs.
Literally creeks and cracks, stopping all conversation.
Stopping me.
A glance and my family’s gazes made a beeline in that direction. Mom lowered her arm. “Is someone here?”
Oh no.
Dad actually started to go in that direction, but there was no need.
Because he walked right in the room.
Brett waltzed into the kitchen like he’d been frequenting it for years, his eyes following mine. He walked right up to the kitchen island. Joined my family.
What the fuck did he think he was doing?
My heart catapulting into my throat, I thought I’d pass out. There was no explanation for this. Absolutely no explanation that would excuse the fact that the boy I slept with was now downstairs and very much standing in front of my parents. I could explain all I wanted, and my parents still wouldn’t be about this.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
This had to be akin to dying, this feeling inside. Complete and utter dread filled me as my parents’ eyes twitched wide and my mom got completely off her barstool. Dad had come around from the bar at this point, maybe a foot away from Brett.
Holy fuck, he’s going to kill him.
It was like Dad knew what I did in his house, approaching him, but Brett… well, Brett was the only one in this situation who didn’t appear to be totally floored by the turn of events in front of him. He stood there, cool as a cucumber in front of my dad.
My mouth parted. “Dad…”
“Jaxen,” came out of my Dad’s mouth first, my eyes twitching wide.
What…
But that’s what Dad had called him when he approached him, Jaxen. Dad put a hand out.
But Brett hugged him instead.
It’d been a sudden hug and one, clearly, my adoptive father hadn’t anticipated.
Dad froze, his arms slowly coming down around the hugger. “Son?”
Son…
My blinks rapid, the guy who hugged him merely brought an arm farther around my dad. The pair shifted, and I found nothing but green eyes in my direction.
They accompanied his smile.
“Hey, Dad,” the boy with the beautiful green eyes said, his words shocking me still. He hugged my father harder. “Good to see you.”
Chapter Two
Jax
Golden… absolutely fucking gold.
The hug had been an even better touch.
Stomaching it, nothing but pure and utter bliss rolled through me, my gaze on my stepsister. She stood there, stunned in her fucking My Little Pony shorts.
Because yes, she had those too.
Her bedroom looked like the pony exploded in it, and had she not been such a good lay, it might have bothered me a little.
She was a gangly thing, tall. I considered myself a tall guy at six foot two, but this girl came up to my chin.
And what a little priss she’d been.
I hadn’t known I’d popped her cherry, but that’d been a win for me. I hoped one of many.
But she didn’t fool me… this girl chewing her lip and staring at me from behind my dad’s shoulder. Girls like her, model-esque with a cup size that held the highest percentage of their body weight liked to play the sweet, innocent thing. They feigned not to know how sexy they were just to get compliments, and though they may keep their virginity in check, they just as easily let guys pound every hole but their pussy to hold on to the title. My stepsister was one of those girls.
Sexy.
Shallow as fuck.
Mine to end.
She’d be an easy one to break, almost not even a challenge. She’d been all over my dick last night like the little entitled whore she was, wrestling with her hands now while my bio dad fawned all over me. What I wouldn’t give to be in her head right now.
I was about to be.
“Jaxen…” my sperm donor of a father said in my ear, grappling my shoulder. He’d been surprised I’d hugged him. Clearly.
Because in any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have.
I wouldn’t have granted him the satisfaction, but today, I would.
Today was different.
A sigh actually racked the fucker’s shoulders, and again, I had to stomach it. That was why I was here, for this.
Boning my stepsister had just been a bonus.
She looked about two seconds away from freaking out, wrestling with that ass-length hair of hers. She was pale as fuck considering how close she lived to the beach, but maybe, just maybe I might have had something to do with that. She truly hadn’t known who I was to her, and had I not stalked the hell out of my father and his create-a-family on social media, I might not have known who she was either. Oddly enough, the chick hadn’t been on social media, but my father was. A politician, his handles were filled with pictures of her and my stepmom.
I tried not to growl at the woman he cheated on my mother with, the one who ultimately ripped my family apart. My father was a slimeball, point-blank, but now, he hugged me like time hadn’t passed.
Like he hadn’t left my ass when I was eleven.
I pulled back with a smile now, making myself. He held me out, just looking at me, and I was well aware I was basically this guy’s clone. We had the same jawline, strong and with an intensity to his eyes that contrasted his relaxed expression. He liked to smile a lot, just like me.
Usually.
He tapped my neck. “Why didn’t you tell us you got here?” he asked, then passed a look over to stepsis. “Cleo?”
Nothing from her direction, and honestly, she hadn’t known. I didn’t tell her. That had been a delight of my own the minute I’d realized my stepsister and I had been at the same club last night. I had flown in early, stopped by to see a friend. My buddy LJ was attending a wedding in Miami, and after stopping and catching up with him, I left with a couple of bridesmaids. They’d been local so we checked out the scene, headed to the club.
Cleo tugged on her hair like Rapunzel, literally that long. “I, um…”
Tell them. I dare you.
I wished she would blow this shit right out of the water, tell them what went down and how I’d fucked her into an oblivion last night. Honestly, she may have been just figuring it out herself. That she’d slept with her stepbrother.
And that she’d enjoyed it.
I had her
ass wriggling last night, like a true virgin, and how easy she’d let me take it.
Hair fell from her fingers. She started to say something, but bio dad had more of his focus on me. He started saying a bunch of shit completely lost on me, a mantra of “when did you arrive” and “how good it is to see you.” Nodding with a smile, I told him the same.
Too easy.
He made it so, wanting it to be easy. He wanted me standing here and forgetting about the past. He wanted his second chance with me, and I was giving him that by being here.
But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be without cost.
My pockets were a little empty from his payout, but I wasn’t talking about money. I was talking about time and need for payment from the past. My biological father, Rick, dropped his arm around me. “Well, I’m just glad you’re here. Maggie?”
He waved stepmother bitch over, basically Cleo’s clone. They had the same height, same body type and everything. I had to admit my father’s family was hot, and since he wasn’t a hopeless case, after all, half my looks unfortunately did come from him, I supposed that’d been the reason why he’d been able to nab them.
“I want you to meet your stepmom,” he said, but didn’t look nervous. He looked almost proud to introduce me to the woman he’d ruined our family for. He grinned. “My Maggie.”
His Maggie.
She came over to me, taking my hand and I had another moment. One where I had to slowly check myself. I could end all this right now.
Don’t be fucking stupid.
“Good to meet you, Jaxen.”
“Good to meet you,” I forced and good as hell at it. I’d prepared for this.
I was ready for this.
But stepmom didn’t let go of my hand, beaming a hundred watt smile at me. If Mary Sunshine had a whore sister, this woman would be it, blinging her pearly whites at me. She had my father’s money and his arm, something I or my mother never needed. My mom had been successful in her own right, didn’t need his shit.
