Hitched: A Stepbrother Honeymoon Romance

by Michaela Scott

  Contents

  Title

  Description

  Chapter 1: Laney

  Chapter 2: Laney

  Chapter 3: Laney

  Chapter 4: Laney

  Chapter 5: Travis

  Chapter 6: Laney

  Chapter 7: Laney

  Chapter 8: Laney

  Chapter 9: Travis

  Chapter 10: Laney

  Chapter 11: Laney

  Chapter 12: Travis

  Chapter 13: Laney

  Chapter 14: Laney

  Chapter 15: Laney

  Chapter 16: Travis

  Chapter 17: Laney

  Chapter 18: Laney

  Chapter 19: Laney

  Chapter 20: Travis

  Chapter 21: Laney

  Chapter 22: Laney

  Chapter 23: Laney

  Chapter 24: Travis

  Chapter 25: Laney

  Mailing List

  Excerpt From Savage: A Pro Football Romance

  About The Author

  Hitched: A Stepbrother Honeymoon Romance

  First Edition. March 23, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Michaela Scott

  Cover Design by Cormar Covers

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Travis Carter is a motocross superstar with a dirty mouth and an even dirtier body. He's my wild, inked-up, infuriatingly sexy stepbrother...and he's also my brand new husband.

  Things got a little crazy in Vegas, okay?

  But it's not what it looks like, I swear! This whole marriage thing was just supposed to be a way for me to sneak into the world's most exclusive honeymoon hotel and get a scoop for the gossip blog I'm working at.

  Too bad Travis doesn't buy that for one second. He thinks I married him because I want him. That secretly, I lie awake at night wondering what he looks like underneath those tight, ripped-up jeans. After all, when we first met, I did want him, and I almost gave him everything.

  But I'm going to prove him wrong. All I have to do is survive two weeks at a luxury Hawaiian resort full of newlyweds, celebrities, and private beaches without hopping into bed with him and letting him make me his blushing bride. Oh, yeah, and I have to pretend to be in love with him the whole time.

  You know, I hope our honeymoon suite has a really, really cold shower. I have a feeling I'm going to need it.

  Chapter 1: Laney

  Ugh…what time is it? The sun is shining in my eyes, but I don’t want to get up just yet. After all those drinks last night, I think I’m going to need to sleep in a little. As I shift in bed, I notice that there’s a huge, muscular arm wrapped around my stomach and that what I thought was a comfy pillow is actually a giant bicep. Oh. Hi. Nice to meet you, whoever you are.

  Well, I guess I must have had a pretty good night, even if I don’t remember it.

  My half-asleep, hungover brain isn’t terribly concerned about any of this, so I pull the blanket up over my face to block the sun, snuggle up against the big, strong guy behind me, and fall back asleep. I hope my new friend doesn’t mind if I drool on his bicep.

  A couple hours later, I drift awake again, and this time, I’m even closer to the guy I apparently hooked up with last night. And I’m pretty sure I landed some kind of sex god. Judging by the way his bare body feels against my back, I’m starting to think that I fucked the hottest guy in Vegas, and I don’t even remember it. My butt is pressed up against his insane, rock-hard abs, and his massive pecs push hard into my shoulder blades with every sleeping breath he takes.

  An insistent little burn starts to grow between my legs as I realize how tight my partner’s holding me against him. Like he wants me bad, even in his sleep. Thinking about it is starting to make the burning a little bit stronger…I think my body’s trying to convince me to go for round two. I mean, the damage is done, right? I had a one night stand with a total hottie, so why not enjoy myself while I’m here? I’ve earned it, right?

  Honestly, I’m pretty impressed that I somehow got away from my family long enough to find a guy to sleep with, so I should definitely…

  Wait. Hold on.

  I open my eyes, fully awake for the first time, and look down at the arm snaking around my body.

  No. No no no no no. This can’t be happening.

  Black flames dance up and down the arm that’s wrapped across my stomach. I’d recognize those tattoos anywhere.

  I’m in bed with my stepbrother.

  Chapter 2: Laney

  Twelve Hours Earlier

  I wonder what it’s like to have a normal family. I bet it’s a lot of fun: holiday dinners, yearly traditions, fun family gatherings…

  But I wouldn’t know. My version of family time is getting dragged to cocktail parties where everyone is a billionaire with botox leaking out of their ears.

  It wasn’t always like this. Back when it was just me and my dad, everything made more sense. We may not have had a lot of money, but we had each other. I worked my butt off to get into a good college, and he worked his butt off trying to make it as a TV producer. Right around the time I turned 18, our hard work paid off. I got accepted into one of the best journalism schools in the country, and Dad landed a high-level gig at a major network.

  Everything was going according to plan…until Dad met Nina Carter, and our nice, modest family of two became the world’s most messed up family of four.

  Sure, we got a bigger house: a ridiculous mansion up in the Pacific Palisades. But we also got Nina: every self-obsessed, vain, former-child-star second of her. Nina grew up out here in Vegas, in a condo overlooking the strip courtesy of her casino billionaire grandfather. With that kind of money and power, it was easy for her to break into Hollywood at a young age, and before long, she was a household name, and her blonde, sneering face was a regular fixture on TVs across the country. She’s a little older now, but she’s definitely still got it: once she had my dad in her sights, he was hers in a matter of months.

  Obviously, I was skeptical that this wasn’t just a career move for Nina, a way to make sure she stayed on TV for years to come. I’m still not 100% convinced that it’s love, but I’m pretty sure they’re at least attracted to each other. Nina’s not a good enough actress to fake the way she looks at my Dad.

  They’re on the far side of the cocktail party, talking to one of Nina’s “friends,” a mean-looking 90-year-old man who probably has enough money to buy a small country. Guys like him are why Nina tries to drag me to these awful cocktail parties at least once a month: it’s important to “make the right connections,” she says.

  Obviously, I do my best to ignore Nina whenever I can, and the feeling is definitely mutual. But Nina didn’t join our family alone. She brought her son with her, and he’s much, much harder to ignore.

  Travis Carter. King Douche himself.

  Travis is probably the only person in this room more famous than Nina. Technically, Travis is an extreme sports star who can do things with his bike that most people can’t even do in their dreams, but that’s not why he’s flexing on the bedroom wall of every high school girl in the country. He might be a great biker, but Travis is a household name for one reason and one reason only: he’s drop dead freaking gorgeous. He’s got the type of blue eyes that reflect all your deepest darkest fantasies back at you, a thick head of honey brown hair, and at least two more abs than I thought was even medically possible.

  I mean, it’s not like I like him or anything. I’m just stating the facts. Maybe I’d be just as gaga for him as every other girl in the country if he wasn't such an arrogant, full-of-himself douchebox, but since he totally is, I don’t care how man
y abs he has.

  This is the first time I’ve seen Travis in a little while. A couple months, at least. He’s been traveling around the world on a publicity tour, competing in foreign events, hitting red carpets, and doing photo shoots. He’s literally an underwear model now. I learned this unfortunate fact last time I was at the mall, when I almost bumped into a life-size cardboard cutout of him, dressed in nothing but a two-hundred dollar pair of boxer briefs and showing off a ridiculous bulge that has to be photoshopped. There’s just no way he’s that big.

  And that’s basically a metaphor for our entire relationship. I’m just trying to have a normal life, but Travis keeps showing up and making me think about stupid stuff like whether or not his bulge is real.

  He’s leaning against the window right now, looking sharp in a designer tux and chatting with an older guy and his suspiciously young wife. When he catches me looking at him, his lips curl into a smirk and his eyebrows raise suggestively.

  Typical. I roll my eyes and go get another glass of champagne. I’m going to need it to make it through this party.

  I’m about halfway through my new glass of champagne when Nina’s voice ambushes my eardrums.

  “There you are!”

  Great, just when I was starting to think she was going to forget about me all night. I take one more sip of champagne for good measure, and then I turn around and face Nina.

  “Here I am…”

  “You know, Laney, you’ll have a lot more fun here if you stop being such a wallflower.”

  Somehow, I doubt that.

  “Join the party! There are a lot of powerful people here,” Nina looks around and lowers her voice to a whisper, “And there are also a lot of very eligible bachelors.”

  I look around the room, trying to see if I can find even one eligible bachelor. Nope, everyone’s still twenty years older than me. And I’m pretty sure most of them are married. And then there’s Travis…

  Oh God, he’s looking at me again. I blush, and my eyes dart down to the bubbles in my champagne.

  “You’re not going to find anything in there, honey. Trust me, I know.” Nina takes my hand. “Come on, I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Nina leads me over to the other side of the room, where the elderly man with the mean eyes is standing.

  “Roger, this is my stepdaughter Laney. She’s the one I was just telling you about.”

  I shake Roger’s hand and muster up my best networking smile. “Nice to meet you.”

  Roger doesn’t answer.

  “Laney’s an associate content assistant at OMG.”

  Roger doesn’t look too impressed. And why should he be? OMG might be the biggest celebrity gossip site around, but as an associate content assistant, my main job is to get people coffee, and he probably knows that.

  “Well,” Roger’s voice is low and creaky, “I've got some friends over at the Exposer who are looking for an assistant content editor.”

  Nina’s eyes light up. “Oh, that’s perfect. That’s exactly what Laney’s looking for. And hey, maybe if Laney works for the Exposer, they’ll stop running stories about me!”

  Nina and Roger laugh, and the combined sound of their laughter makes me want to shrink into the carpet. I’m not sure whether “assistant content editor” is a step up from “associate content assistant,” and even if it is, I’d be going from a questionable celebrity blog to a capitol T Tabloid, which would probably kill my journalism career before it even has a chance to get started.

  “Laney’s heading back to LA tomorrow, do you think your friends could squeeze in an interview at the end of the day?”

  Roger shakes his head and swats at the air. “No, no, no, she won’t even need to come in for an interview. She just needs to call the Editor-In-Chief and mention my name.”

  Over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at tolerating Nina, but nothing makes me angrier than when she tries to control my life like this, assuming what I want and that I need her help to get it. With all this champagne bubbling through my veins, I’m dangerously clothes to telling Roger where he can shove his job offer.

  I’d be in serious trouble, but it’d feel so, so good.

  “You won’t regret it, Roger. Laney’s a hard worker. She can be a little shy sometimes, but I’m sure she’ll grow out of it.”

  Oh, I’m not shy. I just don’t like sleazeballs. I take another sip of champagne so I don’t say that out loud.

  “I keep telling her that she’ll never get a boyfriend if she doesn’t put herself out there. I mean, here she is, in a room full of eligible bachelors, and she hasn’t struck up a conversation with one of them.”

  Okay, I’m about to go nuclear. This is going to be bad. I down the rest of my champagne in one gulp, turn to Nina, and open my mouth.

  “Enjoying the party, ladies?”

  The words disappear in my mouth as Travis comes up behind me. Great, just what I need. Another step-relative to humiliate me in public.

  Nina looks at Travis with her usual mix of condescension and jealousy. “Why wouldn’t we be? I saw Laney standing alone, so I thought I’d help her make some connections.”

  “Connections, huh?” Travis’ blue eyes blaze with mischief. “Well, what if I told you that there’s a gorgeous, super-rich, famous guy here who’s very interested in getting to know Laney?”

  Nina’s eyes light up. “That’s perfect! Laney was just telling me how many cute guys there were here. He’s not too old, is he? Under 55?”

  Travis does some math in his head, then nods. “I think he’s under 55, yeah.”

  “Then what are we standing around talking for? Go meet your knight in shining armor!”

  Nina backs off, taking Roger with her, while Travis wraps a thick, possessive arm around the small of my back and takes me to the other side of the room.

  “Thanks for bailing me out. If I had to sit there and listen to Nina talk about how I need a boyfriend for one more second…it was going to be bad. There’s no gorgeous guy, right? That was just an excuse to get me away from Nina?”

  I squeak as Travis grabs my sides and pulls me into his strong, athletic body. “Oh, there’s a gorgeous guy, alright. And like I said, he’s very interested in you.”

  “Travis!” I smack him in the chest. “We’re in public!”

  Travis smirks. “Oh, would you prefer to do this in private?”

  “Let me go, you’re going to make a scene.” Travis laughs and lets go of me, grabbing a glass of champagne from the table behind us. And that's why I try to avoid him whenever possible. He loves to make my face flush red.

  “Not as big of a scene as you were about to make over there. You were about to go off on Nina.”

  “I still might.”

  “Just ignore her, Laney. Trust me, she hates that way more than she hates being the center of attention.”

  I hate to admit it, but Travis is right. I might not want to kiss up to this crowd, but making a scene here probably isn’t a very smart idea.

  “You’re right. She’d love it if I got on her level. Thanks for coming in and saving my butt.”

  “Anytime.” Travis grins at me and takes a sip of his champagne, his eyes lingering on mine. Then, they look past me. Behind me. I follow his gaze, turning around to face the window, which looks out over the Vegas strip. Cowboys and pyramids. Neon lights and clashing colors. An ocean of recklessness. If I can’t let off steam up here, maybe I can do it down there.

  “It’s weird. I always come to Vegas for these stupid parties, but I’ve never actually seen Vegas. What’s it like?”

  “It’s fucking insane, in every sense of the word. Want to go check it out?”

  Ditch the party? Leave my parents? I want to, but I’m worried Nina will notice and get mad.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun. There’s a casino down the street that gives me free drinks.”

  Alright. Fine. Even if he can be kind of a douche sometimes, drinks and gambling with Travis sounds a hell of a lot better than
Nina parading me around to all her gross friends.

  “Screw it. Let’s go.”

  Travis grins, grabs my hand, and leads me out of the room. Paranoid, I look back over my shoulder to see if Nina notices me leave, but she doesn’t. And just like that, Travis and I are gone, heading out towards the Vegas strip for a night of blowing off steam.

  I’m still kind of nervous about ditching our parents, but by the time we’re down on the strip, I put it out of my mind.

  After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

  Chapter 3: Laney

  Think, Laney, think. What’s the last thing I remember from last night?

  Let’s see…I was at that stupid cocktail party, and I left with Travis so I could get away from Nina. That was where it started, all that champagne I was guzzling. Then, we hit this huge casino, and they started loading us up with free drinks because they could smell the money floating off Travis.

  So we were drinking, I was venting about Nina, and then…uh…that’s where it starts to get fuzzy. But apparently, Travis and I took the whole “stepsibling bonding” thing a little too far.

  Maybe I’ll remember better if I get out of bed and start walking around. Actually, now that I think about it, Travis probably blacked out too: he was knocking back drinks like a sailor as soon as we got to the casino. If I can somehow get out of bed without waking him up, he probably won’t remember last night, and I can pretend this never happened. It’s the perfect plan.

  There’s only one problem: Travis’ massive, muscular arm has a death grip on my stomach, and one of my hands is trapped under his other arm. It’s not exactly going to be easy to get him to let me go.

  Well, slow and steady wins the race, right? He might still be passed out drunk, so maybe if I slowly move him off me, he won’t notice, and I can slip out of the room.

  My free hand reaches down to his fingers, which are wrapped around my side and holding on tight. Slowly but surely, I loosen them one at a time, trying to ignore the…disturbing feeling of my stepbrother’s perfect abs and chest heaving against my bare back with every breath he takes. As I pull his thumb out from under me, Travis twitches against my back, and I freeze in my tracks until I’m positive he hasn’t woken up. Then, I lift his heavy, heavy arm off my body and lay it on its side.