Hateful Bully (Bad Bullies Book Two): A Dark Step Brother Bully Romance

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Hateful Bully (Bad Bullies Book Two): A Dark Step Brother Bully Romance Page 20

by Logan Fox


  A glass hand, slim and reaching for the sky, displays stacks of rings. But there’s one in particular that interests me. One that caught my eye.

  The gold band, with its small chip of an emerald, looks mundane compared to the flashy jewelry stacked around it.

  Mom never said where she got it from, but I know she treasured it. There were times when she didn’t have money for booze or drugs, and even then, I’d never seen her consider selling it. I don’t know who gave it to her, but I don’t think that’s what matters right now.

  What matters is that she wouldn’t have gone anywhere without it.

  Except she has.

  She’s gone.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Josiah

  I lie on my bed, legs up, and blocking what little gray light is coming in from the windows. After creeping out of his bedroom, I went downstairs to make sure he’d left.

  There was a note on the fridge.

  Be back later.

  He’d left a twenty-dollar bill pinned under the magnet. I’m guessing ‘later’ would be after supper then.

  I’m surprised he even gives enough of a fuck to think about the fact that he still has two children to feed. In fact, he should be at home grieving for the loss of his child, not out gallivanting fuck knew where.

  I’d passed Candy’s bedroom door on the way down. I’m sure she’s gone and holed herself up there. Maybe she’s grieving, but I doubt it. She didn’t know Emma well enough. I should go talk to her, but I’d rather get rid of the excess energy eating its way through my body first.

  It shouldn’t have, but the spreads I’d glimpsed in that magazine keep replaying in my mind.

  It’s disturbing to think that my father’s into shit like that. That’s what I should be thinking about. Instead, I start bringing back memories of last night when I was in the TV room with Candace. How close I’d been to making her mine, and how much she’d wanted me inside her.

  I run a hand over my cock. It throbs, stiffening under my palm. I close my eyes. In my mind, I’m spreading Candy’s legs, ready to devour her—

  I jerk in shock when someone knocks on my door.

  No, not someone.

  Candy.

  “Fuck,” I mutter. I hesitate, and then yank the intricately embroidered quilt out from under my ass and drape it over my lap, hiding my erection.

  Just as I’d expected, she opens the door and steps inside without bothering to get my permission first.

  “Hey,” she says quietly. “Can we…can we talk?”

  I’d rather cut off my dick with a blunt bread knife, but it’s not like I got a fucking choice, is it? She’s already halfway across the room, absolutely missing every possible hint that I might have been in the middle of jerking off.

  She’s wearing yoga pants and a pink-colored wide-necked sweater skimming both shoulders.

  In my heightened state of sexual arousal, even the way she walks right now is turning me on. There’s something about that exact shade of pink—

  pussy pink

  —sweater, and how it sets off her skin that makes me want to see what she’d look like with my cum streaking her body.

  Jesus, worst timing ever.

  “Later,” I say, turning my back on her. “I’m trying to sleep.”

  The rustling of her clothes as she walks stops.

  Go. Turn around, leave.

  You’ll thank me later, darling.

  “Josiah, I’m scared.”

  As if to punctuate her statement, a flash of lightning paints the room white. Candy yelps, and I’m sitting up in a rush a moment later, my heart pounding as a wild crack splits the air with noise.

  When I look at her, she has both hands to her chest, her eyes wide.

  “It’s just a storm.” I’m not in control of the words—they seem to come from someone else.

  She shakes her head, even attempts a laugh, but it sounds hollow. “It’s my mom.”

  “This again?” There’s a snap in my voice, but she doesn’t hear it. Doesn’t care. Thunder grumbles outside while she comes closer, and then the first faint patter of rain hits the tiled roof far above. “Just call her up and—”

  “I’ve been trying the whole day.” Candy hesitates, and then perches on the edge of the bed. She turns her back to me, staring out the window as her fingers reach up and pull her braid over her shoulder. She starts toying with it, fingering its length and pushing stray strands back into the weave. “It just goes to voice mail.”

  With a sigh, I collapse back onto the bed. This shifts the quilt, but I manage to yank it over my dick just in time.

  She looks over her shoulder and gives me a sad smile. Then she holds something out to me. I take it gingerly—it’s a cheap-looking ring. Thin band, tiny green stone.

  “Pretty,” I murmur, handing it back.

  “It’s my mom’s.”

  I want to ask her why it’s significant, but for the first time, I see something in her blue eyes that makes me feel like an asshole for being so annoyed with her.

  Dark shadows have stolen the light from her baby-blues.

  “You really don’t think she’s with her sister,” I say.

  Candy shakes her head. Her eyes dart to me. “Did you hear what W-Wayne said?”

  Why does she trip over his name like that?

  I shake my head.

  “When he came back.”

  I shrug at her, frowning. She glances away. “I didn’t want him to catch me in his room, so I hid in the closet.”

  “You hid?”

  “I was—” she cuts off, but I know what she was about to say.

  I was scared.

  I get it, my dad’s an intimidating guy.

  She waves at me. I think it’s meant to come across as glib, but instead, she just seems desperate to change the subject.

  “It sounded like he was talking to his lawyer or something.” Her eyes are back on the window as the rain starts splatting against the glass.

  I push up onto my elbows. “Uncle Quinten?”

  She shrugs. “He said they were asking him all these questions about—” She glances at me over her shoulder, and then faces away again, “—about Emma.”

  Discrepancies.

  Why would he lie?

  The same reason he keeps that top drawer locked—there are some things better left unknown. Sick, dirty urges better left in the dark where they belong.

  She’s toying with her hair again, but a small section has come undone. It lays along her spine, shifting as she talks.

  I want nothing more than to smooth it away and tuck it back into her braid.

  My cock throbs, and I realize I’m shoving it into my lap. Before I can take my hand away, Candy looks back at me.

  She frowns. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

  Crazier than me? I almost laugh. Her eyes dart down to the hand in my lap. Then up to my face. As if she’s only just realized she might be interrupting, she bobs up to her feet.

  She’s not wearing a bra, and that sudden movement makes her tits bounce.

  “I’m probably just imagining it,” she says half to herself, as she starts backing out of my room. But as if she’s too frightened of what will happen when she turns her back, she does it facing me. “I…I’ll go…”

  “You’ll stay.”

  She blinks, stopping in her tracks. Gives her head a tiny shake. And then squeals when lightning crashes mere yards away.

  I can’t take it anymore. I’d been trying to get all this shit out of my head, but it all keeps flooding back in. It’s like I’m chained down on a carousel horse, destined to go around and around until someone stops the ride.

  Candy can stop it.

  She’d make the perfect distraction.

  Her eyes are squeezed shut, her hands in fists by her face. That last one gave me a scare too, but I recover faster than her.

  When she opens her eyes, I grab her.

  “Hey!”

  “Hey, yourself.”
/>   Using the grip on her shoulders, I spin her around and push her onto the bed, face down. When I put my weight on her, she collapses under me with a surprised grunt.

  Then she starts struggling.

  I slide a hand under her hips and drag her ass into the air, molding my body against hers. Her yoga pants stretch tight against the perfect halves of her cheeks, cutting a ditch down the middle that darkens with shadow when it reaches her veiled pussy.

  My cock slaps against that pink fabric when I take it out, and she instantly stiffens.

  When she tries to push up, I shove her face back into the quilt with my hand on the back of her neck.

  She could scream, but she doesn’t.

  One little word, a single ‘no’, and I’d release her.

  Or would you?

  Fuck it, I don’t know. But as much as she’s resisting me with her body—legs clamped closed and neck pushing against my hand as if she’s trying to sit up…there’s no indication that she wants me to stop.

  Just like there’s no way for me to know if she truly wants me to fuck her.

  I smooth a hand over her ass, and then trail my fingers between her legs. Although every delicious curve is on display, I can’t exactly shove my cock through her yoga pants.

  She yelps when I grab the elastic and yank it down her legs, baring her ass. Her pussy lips gleam.

  Candy’s already wet for me.

  “Open.”

  Her hair’s in her face, hiding her eyes. I brush it away and fold over her again, lifting my bare cock and letting its length rest against her crack.

  I put my mouth by her ear. “Open.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, her knees shift an inch apart. “Wider, darling.”

  Another inch.

  “Really think my cock’s that small?”

  She lets out a stifled gasp when I wrench her open.

  Her pussy’s like one of those in the magazine—except, she doesn’t shave. She doesn’t have to yet; the fuzz on her lips is more a tease than anything else.

  I’m aching to fuck that perfect slit.

  Throbbing to empty myself inside her.

  There’s another crash of lightning. Candy tenses, and her thighs bunch. Wetness oozes from her slit. I skim it from her lips with my finger, and shuffle to the side. It’s too awkward to keep her pinned down from this angle, so I release her neck and instead use that hand to throttle the base of my cock.

  Candy’s blue eyes go wide as I coat the tip of my cock with her juices. I grab a fistful of her hair and wrench up her head, holding it an inch away from my dick.

  “Open.”

  Her lips part, but more with incredulity than sheer obedience.

  “You ever taste yourself?”

  The sudden uncertainty in her eyes is answer enough.

  “Lick it off.”

  She hesitates, so I let go of my cock and slap her ass so hard she lets out a breathless cry. Pain lights up her eyes, and my cock bobs and weaves as lust grabs hold of me with an iron fist.

  I’m trembling—externally, internally. I don’t know how long I’ll last like this, caught in this tantalizing anticipation…but I’ll be fucked if I lose control now.

  I know this is wrong. Fucked up beyond belief. She’s my sister—blood or otherwise—and that should be enough to force me to keep my distance.

  But I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I’ve wanted Candy. The forbidden fruit. This wicked, wicked sin.

  When I make her bleed, when she screams as she becomes a woman, I want the name on her lips to be mine.

  We’ll both go to hell for this, but we’ll be coming so hard, neither of us will give a fuck.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Candy

  How the fuck did I let this happen again? I came in here to talk, and now I’m on my knees in front of Josiah, about to suck his dick.

  And that’s not all I’m about to do.

  My insides are quivering. Every time I tense, wetness builds inside me. It’s threatening to spill out again, and this time he won’t be there to stop it.

  I’m fucked in the head.

  An utter deviant.

  Don’t I have any morals?

  He slaps me again, same place, and I sigh instead of screaming at him to stop. Just like I let him push me onto the bed.

  Josiah moves my head closer. I can smell myself on the end of his cock, and he’s seeping from the slit in his crown too. With one hand in my hair, he wraps the fingers of his other around his cock and starts pumping it an inch from my face.

  I look up at him, not sure what he wants.

  His face contorts the moment we lock eyes, and for a second, I think he’s about to come. But then he licks his lips and murmurs, “Open.”

  For some reason, as much as I want to, I can’t obey his command.

  I want him to hurt me. To fuck me. To make me beg for his mercy. And for the life of me, I don’t know why.

  “Open,” Josiah says through his teeth.

  When I don’t obey, he wrenches me closer until my lips bump against his dick.

  In a flash, he has my face cupped in his hand. He sinks his thumb and forefinger into my jaw, forcing my teeth open. Parting my lips whether I want them open or not. I struggle, but he twists the hand in my hair.

  Pain shoots through my scalp. I freeze, whimpering, and stare up at him.

  He eases the tip of his dick between my lips.

  Tangy, salty, sticky, warm, hard silk.

  He slides over my tongue and wedges in the back of my throat. I gag, and push at his hips.

  He hisses, eyes fluttering closed as he slowly draws out and then sinks in again.

  I’ve never seen such unadulterated lust on someone’s face.

  Or have I?

  My heart flutters, my stomach tightens. I squeeze my pelvic floor muscles, and shudder when wetness oozes out of me and trails down my inner thigh.

  I relax my jaw, but if Josiah notices, he decides not to relinquish the grip on my face. He keeps his hand there, pushing open my jaw so I can take more of him into my mouth.

  Wider.

  Deeper.

  And then harder.

  His breath huffs out, sounding pained as he thrusts his cock into my mouth. I gag, and almost puke. My eyes tear up, and I taste that salt in my mouth a moment later.

  He fucks my mouth, groaning. I don’t know what to expect, but the stream of hot, bitter liquid that suddenly fills my mouth I could never have prepared for.

  I gag hard, retch, and have to swallow everything that comes up because he’s still busy pouring cum into my mouth. Some of it escapes as I labor for breath, and trickles down my chin.

  Josiah pulls out with a groan, and coats my lips with a last powerful spurt of cum.

  The bliss is fading from his face, and I don’t want it to. A second ago, I had unbridled power over this man, now I have nothing.

  So I lick my lips. I fail to suppress the violent shudder that rifles through me, but that just seems to turn him on even more.

  He swipes his thumb over my lips, smearing what’s left of his cum over my mouth.

  “You’re perfect,” he murmurs. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

  My heart opens like a flower.

  I duck my head, and rain kisses over his softening dick. He pulls me away, turns me around, and presses his stomach flush against my back as he makes me lift onto my knees.

  With gentle hands, he pushes apart my thighs. Then he slides a hand between my legs and cups my pussy, squeezing so hard that I gasp and buck into him.

  His fingers drag open my lips, and I shudder when cool air touches the most intimate part of me.

  “It’ll hurt,” he warns, his mouth by my ear.

  My breath hitches when he slides two fingers inside me. I stare down, hypnotized by his strong hand, as it manipulates my core. My arousal coats his fingers, his palm. He starts fingering me harder, his hand thumping against my pelvic bone hard enough to send a physical thump through my entire lowe
r body.

  “Make yourself come.”

  I hesitate, because even giving myself an orgasm has always felt so very, very wrong. He grabs my wrist and forces my hand down. His teeth nip at my earlobe, my neck. They sink into my shoulder muscle.

  “Show me.”

  There’s something wrong with those words. This is dirty and perverted and as sinful as making myself cry out silently in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep…

  He grabs my fingers and forces me to touch myself. Then he starts rubbing them against my clit.

  It hurts.

  It’s electric.

  I mewl and buck to try and get away from that delicious pain.

  And then his hardened cock is pressing against my entrance. He dips and lifts his hip, rubbing himself through my slick folds. Teasing. Coating himself with my lust.

  “Josiah!”

  He pushes away my fingers and massages my clit. His cock keeps rubbing and pushing against my entrance, and all I want is for him to take that last step and fuck me.

  “Jesus, you’re so fucking wet for me,” he hisses through his teeth. “Tell me how much you want this, darling. Beg me to fuck you.”

  But I can’t breathe, never mind speak. My body’s tense as a fucking violin string, and all it will take is one more pluck for me to unravel.

  His dick slides up and down my slit. Harder, harder. He eases in half an inch, and then slips out.

  I’m too wet, too tight.

  He pushes down between my shoulder blades, forcing my head into the bed, my ass in the air.

  His dick slips along my slit as he strums my clit with expert fingers.

  “I can’t—” he begins in a strangled voice. “I don’t ever want this to stop.”

  I mewl in response, my voice still trapped. Then I reach around and do the only thing I can think of in the way of giving him the permission he thinks he needs.

  I peel back my pussy, shuddering with shame as I bury my face in the quilt.

  Josiah inhales a sharp breath.

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” He groans when his cock touches me again. But instead of pushing inside, instead of finally breaking me like he keeps promising, his cock trails up and up and up.

 

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