Beautiful Brute: A Stepbrother College Romance (Court University Book 3)

by Eden O'Neill

  I wasn’t sure if he’d actually stop.

  He seemed gung-ho on getting the hell away from me as soon as he could, his engine wild in the air when he wheeled down the driveway and screeched into traffic. He shifted, then peeled away with nothing but a smell of charred rubber cloaking the air, but I wasn’t just going to stand there and not do something.

  I rushed back inside the house, looking for my adoptive father. He needed to fix this… whatever this shit was he needed to fix because something was wrong and Jaxen believed he wasn’t his son. I didn’t know what that meant. That made no sense.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  Mom had been sitting in the living room, her legs crossed and staring at the wall. She uncrossed them. “His office. Why—”

  I made a beeline in that direction, not even announcing myself when I went inside. Dad was standing at the window, staring outside. He had clear view of the driveway, no doubt had seen Jax and me completely.

  “Why does Jaxen feel like he isn’t your son?”

  “Cleo?” Mom had followed me in, reaching for me, but I moved away from her and over to my dad. He hadn’t shifted, not one inch from the window, and on his side of the desk, I saw he did have a clear view of the driveway. He’d watched the whole thing play out, had to have.

  My lips parted. “Why does Jaxen think that? Why would he say that? Did you hear what he said?”

  A head nod, but that’s all he gave me.

  I shook my head. “Dad—”

  “Cleo,” Mom urged, coming around the desk too. “This is not the time.”

  “Then when is?” I whipped around in her direction. “When are you guys going to talk to me?”

  Her face fell. “I told you. This is between Rick and Jaxen.”

  “Well, Jaxen doesn’t feel like he has a father.” I faced Dad. “Jaxen thinks he’s not your son. He thinks I have it all. That you’re my family and not his.”

  Dad’s brow furrowed, his hands cuffing his arms. “I heard him,” he said, finally facing me. His eyes had completely glassed. Like he was five seconds way from letting tears fall when not once had I ever seen such a thing. This man had been so strong, strong my whole life.

  But this?

  This was breaking him down, this was torturing him.

  He frowned. “Jaxen is my son, but the fact that he doesn’t feel like he is? Well, he’s not wrong.”

  Not… wrong?

  “I didn’t do right by him,” he said. “I abandoned him. I left him. I apologized, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know why, and when I couldn’t tell him what he needed, he left.”

  My face fell. “Well, why couldn’t you tell him what he needed?”

  Mom touched me. “Cleo—”

  “No, why couldn’t you tell him what he needed? Why does he think you don’t care and abandoned him?”

  “Because I did abandon him, Cleo.”

  My lips shut. He’d said it before but…

  I just didn’t believe it.

  It wasn’t possible that this man that I called father could do such a thing.

  It just wasn’t.

  I knew his character, knew him.

  In my silence, Mom came over, putting her hands on his shoulders. He touched one, then stared at me. “I do care about him, but I did abandon him. That’s a fact that remains unchanged.”

  “Well, maybe if he just sees that you do care,” I said. “Please. He doesn’t under… Can you just tell him what he needs? He thinks you’re not claiming him. That you don’t care.”

  He squeezed my mom’s hand, his swallow hard. “If I tell him what he needs to hear from me, that’s the one thing that could make things so much worse. Worse than they already are.”

  How was that possible? “Worse?”

  He nodded. “There’s only one good thing I’ve ever given that boy by staying away. One thing and I refuse to take that from him. I would if I gave him what he needed. This way is just easier. Easier for him. I can’t hurt him anymore. I just can’t.”

  But he was hurting him. He was killing him, and this was killing him too, clearly.

  “Dad—”

  His hands lifted, as if he’d washed his hands. He left the room, and Mom followed after him. I didn’t get it, questioning everything I knew about him, my mom, and this family in that moment. We didn’t do things like this, hurt people, and definitely not on purpose.

  My lashes flickering away, I headed in another direction. I was going to my car because I wasn’t doing that, what my adoptive father just did. I was going after Jaxen.

  Because that’s what he needed.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jax

  The weed calmed my nerves but did nothing for my anger.

  I couldn’t even fucking drive anymore.

  I ended up pulling off the highway and onto the beach, afraid I’d completely crash my shit and end up in a ditch somewhere. I couldn’t see straight, and it was by the grace of God, I didn’t have any alcohol on me. I could easily down a forty, not a fuck given.

  The only thing I did have was a joint so I lit up, pausing to roar into the air until I calmed down enough to actually light it. I didn’t know how I thought that talk with my sperm donor was going to go today, but it ended in ways I’d only suspected. He hadn’t wanted to talk, only spew bullshit. I asked him one thing, one fucking goddamn thing.

  And he couldn’t even answer it.

  I wanted to know why he’d done what he had and why he’d left our family like a goddamn coward after it. I wanted to know why he’d ripped us apart, why he’d been so selfish, and not just once but both times. He’d cheated on my mom, the most fucked up thing, then ran like a coward after. I wanted to know if it’d been worth it.

  I wanted to know the why.

  He’d stumbled all over himself and actually tried to apologize for his mistakes. He’d tried to apologize to me like that was a Band-Aid and would make this all go away. He wanted to give me fucked up apologies instead of telling the truth. That he was a shit person who’d left his son. That he hadn’t cared, and ironically enough, that’s what he’d done by saying everything he couldn’t say. He showed me that in spades. He hadn’t wanted our family.

  He hadn’t wanted me.

  I’d fucking lost it at his cowardice, ashamed that this man’s blood ran through my veins. I’d given him all I had after that, called him every goddamn word in the book. I’d only come to his stupid fucking birthday because I’d wanted to talk to him.

  I had wanted to try.

  A lot of good it did me, my fist bruised from punching my car. I shook it off and drew off my joint again, blowing smoke into the air. Waves crashed and fell ahead of me, my headlights staining the beach. Between the joint and my car, that’s all the light I had, all I needed. I didn’t want the noise.

  The darkness inside was more familiar.

  Cleo: Where are you? Please tell me.

  The sixth or seven text from Rapunzel herself, Pretty Pretty Princess acting like she cared about me too. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. I honestly didn’t care, and she wasn’t my problem anymore. I’d gotten what I wanted from her and Dad had gotten what he wanted from me. I’d come down here to be a part of his sickeningly perfect family.

  How fucked that he always won.

  I knew that as another one of her texts pulled in, how she was worried about me and needed to see me. My heart twisted more than I wanted it to, and roaring, I threw that shit on the beach. I wanted to knock my own damn head in.

  I just wanted the pain to stop.

  So much pain, always goddamn pain, and it was feeling too familiar, too normal. I’d learned to deal with it being so far away, away from him and his faux apologies. But coming here now, being in his life…

  Meeting her.

  It fucking sucked. All of it had fucking sucked, and I should have listened to my boys. I should have never come down here. I knew that now because as soon as my phone buzzed again, I dug it out of the sand. More texts from
Cleo, more goddamn texts.

  Cleo: Please. Please.

  Me: The beach off 150.

  It was in these moments I was happy I didn’t self harm. Because if I had a switchblade, I had no idea what I’d do in that moment.

  Roaring again, I punched the air, tossing my blunt. I put it out, then waited. Waiting for what I didn’t know, but the moment I heard a busted up station wagon in the distance, I knew exactly what I was waiting for.

  What’s wrong with me?

  I told her she couldn’t have that part. She had everything so why was I giving her this, me? I didn’t know, but the moment a car pulled up to mine and the air filled with the scent of cherries, I no longer associated it with whore.

  It was just her, Cleo with her hair down to her ass and explorer shorts on that made her look like a goddamn wet dream. She wore them high-waisted, tight and belted at her flat tummy. Her brown boots and tank on, she’d changed before leaving the house. Or I guessed, had taken off her sweater. She’d been wearing the same shorts and boots.

  Why the fuck had I noticed?

  Her hair swaying in the wind, she pressed her curvy body against the hood of my car, everything about her close enough to touch. She wore no makeup, never did, and I took inventory enough to notice before looking away.

  She trembled in the wind. “Hey.”

  Hey.

  Always so innocent, awkward and I hated that turned me the fuck on like a motherfucker.

  Silent, I folded my arms, and she pushed off my car to stand in front of me. This was better, no more of her goddamn thighs burning me through my shorts.

  “Jaxen, I’m…” Always with the Jaxen, always so formal and uptight. That was just her, couldn’t help being herself. “I’m just so sorry.”

  More sorries. Sorries from everyone, now her like they meant anything. Was she sorry for taking everything from me? For being the replacement kid? The only good thing my dad had done for me was be completely absent from my life. I didn’t have to deal with his influence, got to be raised by two amazing women. I guessed my dad had done something for me in the end.

  I started to spout off some mouthy shit, to tell her exactly what I had to my dad. How I hadn’t cared either, that I was glad they all had each other, that she should leave me the hell alone.

  “I don’t know why I keep doing these things.”

  But then she said that, making me look up. She had actual tears in her eyes, unable to even look at me. She really was shivering now, holding her arms. “I ruin everything. I ruin everyone’s family.”

  I twitched, the words foreign. I had no idea what she meant.

  Until, I did.

  Until, it came back to me, that day when Rick had told me something. He said she blamed herself, took responsibility for her brother’s death.

  She wet her lips. “I let go of his hand, you know?” she said, nodding. “My brother Nathan? I let go of his hand, and he drowned.”

  Drowned.

  A head shake before her tears hit the beach. “I told him I hated him because he wanted to play, and I didn’t want to. I mean, who does that?”

  A kid, a child.

  I stayed silent, watching her. At this point, she looked like she wanted to be sick, but she didn’t turn away.

  “My dad left after that,” she said. “He left our family because of me, and now he’s so busy drinking and gambling his life away. He doesn’t even remember us, remember our family.” She swallowed hard. “I ruined my parents’ marriage. I lost my brother, and now, I’ve wrecked your life too.”

  I would have said the same thing, that she had wrecked my life by basically being me. That she’d been what my father had chosen instead of being there for me.

  But in my head, it sounded just as much of a lie as what this girl had convinced herself of being true. That she’d been responsible for her little brother’s death, a kid herself. It all sounded like bullshit.

  It all sounded sad.

  “I’m so sorry, Jaxen,” she said, shrugging. She dropped her arms. “I get why you hate me. I’d hate you too.”

  She’d hate me too.

  She should hate me, hate me for taking my rage out on her when my shit lay only with one person. It hadn’t been her fault.

  I’d just needed it to be.

  Dropping my head, I couldn’t see straight, unable to make out the beach even if I wanted to. I got lost in the individual grains of sand and sea shells, a placeholder for all the crap in my head. With a breath, Cleo started to walk away, and I knew that was it. She wanted nothing from me. She just wanted to give me her truth, no matter how fucking wrong it was. She’d wanted to offer me that peace, but wanted nothing from me in return. She thought she was sparing me.

  “Why can’t you just let me hate you?”

  She stopped right in the sand after I spoke, then froze when I pulled her over to me.

  I massaged her hips, making her tremble as she melded into my lap. My previous words radiated in the air, rupturing through me as I wrapped my arms around her waist and touched my forehead between her breast. She smelled like heaven, my fucking hell. “Why, Cleo?”

  My fingers embedded into her thighs, fucking perfect. Gazing up, I looked at her, clouded through my eyes. She had tears herself.

  “Because I,” she started, her tears falling to her chest. “You don’t hate me?”

  “Why do you hate you?” I asked, a better question. “You can’t possibly think… Your little brother? You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

  I could see that, deep in her eyes, she did believe the lie. She let herself believe it, drowning herself in it.

  Her shoulders shook as she gazed away, and she didn’t get to do that. She’d look at me.

  I made her as I forced her mouth on mine, drowning in her sorrow. It felt better than my own. I mourned my own hate toward her, so strong before.

  “I want to hate you so bad,” I admitted, more than one time now. “But I can’t. It’d be a lie.”

  This was the only truth, all I had. I cared about this girl.

  I think I more than cared.

  I couldn’t admit any of that, though, all this needing to be enough. It was enough, for now. I needed her.

  “I want you,” she whispered, biting my lip and hardening my cock. “God, Jaxen. Please.”

  She didn’t even have to beg, my eyes falling closed as I tugged her hips and tucked her between my legs. I undid her belt, then pulled it out, tossing it on the sand. After that, I ripped off my shirt and was standing before her.

  Her arms weaved around my neck as I juggled her weight against the hood of my car. I was going to fuck her. Fuck her right there.

  Because I wanted her too.

  I wanted her so bad it ripped apart my insides. I shouldn’t want her, the worst possible thing because I did think it let my dad win. He won because I couldn’t hurt him the way I knew fucking with his replacement kid would. I found my needs overshadowed his in the moment.

  “Girl Scout…” I dragged her lip into my mouth, making her call out. Cradling her waist, I worked my shorts down, then undid hers. I got one of her legs out, then pulled her right back on top of me, her knees on my hood. A hooked finger and I eased the side of her panties over, adjusting myself beneath her. She knew what was happening and held on, letting me angle into her center. It took little more than a touch before I slammed, making us both cry out.

  Holy fuck.

  I rocked with her, slapping her inner thighs as she rode me, kissed me. I had one hand on her and the other on my ride, not letting her go as I impaled her again and again.

  “Jax, oh my god.” She tossed her head back, her perfect tits bouncing in her tank top. Needing a taste, I forced her top up, then eased her breast out of one of the cups. I sucked a nipple in immediately, making her mewl and shiver. Her nails grated my back, and I roared, clamping down on her tit.

  This wouldn’t last long.

  I shifted, getting her on the hood of my car. Sprawled out like this,
she looked heavenly and on my fucking car, a goddess.

  I drilled her, gripping one of her legs and angling it up as far as it could go. I got her so deep like this, disappearing and reappearing inside her. This girl was the stuff pornos were made of, a goddamn queen on my car.

  “Jaxen, I’m going to come.” Her ass slid up and down as I pounded, nearly there myself. In a breath, her walls squeezed my dick, and I spilled, coming hard like I’d never touched a woman in my goddamn life.

  I completely filled her, my dick covered in cum and her sticky heat as I fell from her. I didn’t let her go far, kissing her. I wasn’t letting go of her.

  It was like I couldn’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Cleo

  Jax and I ended up at the hotel room he’d booked for us in Miami. He obviously wasn’t going back home to Mom and Dad’s, and it wasn’t foreign to me that the place probably didn’t feel like home to him anyway.

  Not that he was wrong.

  My adoptive father was hiding something from him and definitely from me, which was crazy. That’s just not how he was. Obviously, he didn’t tell me everything about his life, nor did he have to.

  But to hurt someone on purpose?

  We hadn’t talked about my adoptive father last night or this morning. We’d just been together, all that easy. If Jaxen had hated me before, he definitely didn’t now. He’d told me, but I didn’t think I needed to hear the words. He’d texted me to come to the beach.

  He hadn’t pushed me away.

  That meant more to me than anything else. He was hanging around and didn’t want to go. I played with his hand, under his arm while he texted. He finally checked his messages after we made love this morning—a lot. In fact, we screwed so many times that it’d taken several texts coming in before he finally picked up. His friends had been blowing up his phone apparently.

  “Shit,” he said, shooting off a final text before putting his phone down. He had a sexy, curled bedhead that made him basically smoldering, muscled man candy. I definitely didn’t want to leave this bed but knew we’d have to eventually. His friends were supposed to be arriving today. He looked at me. “The guys have been at the airport for an hour.”