BAD LUST: A Stepbrother Romance (A Step Over the Line Book Book 1)

by Hayes, Aurora

  But not tonight.

  Jake looks at me. His eyes are glossy. “Stand up, sweetie.”

  In a minute, I’m naked. Stripped naked by Jake and his strong and aggressive hands. His fingertips slide along my body, from my shoulders down to my nipples, then down to my pussy. He touches me with every damn finger of his, bringing me to my toes.

  I moan. It feels good. I want him to know it feels good.

  But he’s perfect at this game. He’s the one who probably invented it.

  Jake sits on the bed and looks wobbly. He’s shitfaced right now.

  I don’t care. I need this so badly. My father told me before his vacation that I better be ready for a big change in life. I don’t know what it means, but if it’s anything with his political aspirations, I need to have my fun right now.

  Jake reaches for me and pulls me towards him. His cock is so long and thick. I straddle the bed, trying to move naturally and instinctively. Like my body knows what it wants.

  His hands slide down around my ass and he squeezes me.

  I groan.

  His mouth engulfs one of my breasts.

  One of his hands lets my ass go and then I feel him guiding his cock right at me.

  In seconds, he’ll know just how tight I really am.

  I open my eyes and start to play the keyboard. It all comes to me so naturally, like it always has. Nobody in my family can play an instrument but me. After my mother left, I asked for a keyboard because I wanted noise to chase away how hurt I was. My father bought anything I asked for. When I couldn’t play the keyboard and it was just bad notes, he signed me up for lessons.

  And as crazy as it was, Jake’s mother was kind of an inspiration to me. Up until she just literally stopped playing piano and almost disappeared. Maybe that made Jake even more appealing for me. How someone so beautiful like Rebecca Preatt could give birth to something so horrible (yet crazy sexy) like Jake Ziggern.

  I take another breath and start to sing.

  The first song feels so easy. It’s almost relaxing for me. I feel normal. Nobody snapping my picture. Nobody asking me a question about not having a mother. Or how good of a father I have. Or what it’s like to be young and rich. Or if I have to pay for college. Or if I’m going to take a job at my father’s company.

  When I finish, I take my hands off the keyboard. I wait for approval but it really doesn’t come. Everyone is busy. Maybe ten people clap for me. I look to my left and Katelyn is giggling with the bartender.

  I put my fingers back to the keyboard and get ready for the second song. As I start to play, I see movement from the corner of my eye. I don't want to look but I have to.

  There’s Jake, walking along the floor, hands in his pockets. He finds an empty table and sits down. He puts his feet up and hands behind his head. A few seconds later I see the woman he had been with walking to someone at the bar. It’s a guy.

  Did Jake really have the balls to screw someone’s girlfriend while their boyfriend was at the bar?

  Talk about a total badass.

  I keep playing the same part over and over on the keyboard, my eyes stuck on Jake. He’s staring right back at me. He shows no emotion.

  Does he even remember I was just in the bathroom? Watching him?

  It angers me as much as it confuses me. And it turns me on.

  I put my lips to the mic and Jake smirks. It makes me freeze up again. So I run through the beginning of the song one more time.

  I see Jake’s ass thrusting so hard at the woman. Her hair’s in her face, her mouth open, groaning with each pump. He looks back at me and nods.

  “What’s up, sweetie?” he asks. “You need something? You want to get in on this?”

  I gasp. The woman is breathing heavy. Her hands gripping Jake’s shoulders tight.

  I stare at him. “Jake…?”

  “Yeah? What?”

  “It’s… me.”

  Am I really talking to him right now? While he’s screwing someone else?

  “Who are you?” he asks.

  I gasp again. “You don’t… remember…”

  “Sweetie, unless you’re going to take your pants off and come over here, get out.”

  “Hurry,” the woman moans. “I’m so close.”

  He doesn’t remember me. He doesn’t even know me. It wouldn’t be that much of a shock because our lives were so far apart and different… but he had just fucked me two nights ago…

  I’m able to get the lyrics out this time. I start the song and am able to keep my composure. I’m singing a song about being lonely, which seems so twisted and ironic.

  I promise myself I won’t look at Jake.

  He doesn’t matter.

  If he forgot about me, I’ll forget about him. It’s not like we’re ever going to have to get to know each other.

  3.

  (Jake)

  She thinks I don’t fucking remember her. Are you fucking kidding me? The sweetest smelling pussy I ever had. So pure and delicious, she still lingered on my fucking lips. And how tight she was? I thought my cock was being choked and would snap off. She said she wasn’t quite a virgin, but damn, that was a virgin pussy. If not, then I feel bad for the guy who allegedly fucked her. Must have had a pinky dick. Not me though. I’m more like a fucking fist.

  Damn. And the way she moved her hips? I held those fucking hips, her little curvy flesh working goddamn magic on me. It was so good… I would have fucked her three more times that night. But when she climbed off me, I saw what I’d done to her. I hurried to wipe the evidence away, not wanting her to see the blood I had caused.

  She was drunk but not sloppy drunk. And she was the dork rich girl on campus. I was the dirty burn out jock. Whatever the fuck anyone wanted to call me. I like pussy and the campus was flooded with it. And they all wanted it. A piece of Jake. I’m the kind of guy that makes a woman’s father cry and a woman’s mother wish she were twenty years younger. Hell, you don’t even want to know how many mothers I’ve run through after I took care of their daughters.

  Yeah, I’m sick. I’m fucked. I’m… insert here.

  It’s the way I live and the way I’ve lived my entire damn life. Having a flake for a mother and a dead father really doesn’t put you on the path to prosperity. But there’s money all around and I keep my mouth shut and enjoy it.

  Money and sex. What else fucking matters?

  Right now, what matters is the dorky bitch on stage, staring at me as she sings. She almost cost me two times tonight already and it pisses me off. The first time I could understand. Coming into the bathroom to take a piss and finding some guy railing a chick against a wall is a little jarring. When I looked back and saw it was Jade, I couldn’t believe it. The fucking odds of this shit… I pick a random place to come hang, stay out of the limelight, looking to score a little pussy. And BAM, there she fucking is.

  Her sweet body instantly popped into my mind and I had to pull out of the chick I was fucking to keep from exploding. The chick had been arguing with her boyfriend at the bar, really fucking up my night to chill. So I walked up to her and whispered into her ear… If you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I’m going to stick my cock in it… And well, damn, if she didn’t take me up on the offer. Just to get back at her boyfriend as he rambled on with some other dude about some fucking football player.

  So I fucked the chick. And then I pulled myself from her. By then, we were alone in the bathroom. I took it easy and had a seat, letting the chick slop all over my cock. It was good, but she was too eager at it. Maybe she never saw a dick as big as mine, I don’t know. But it was a fucking chore.

  Until we were alone in the bathroom again…

  I can’t help myself, okay? Therapists told me I take my anger out on others because I don’t know how to deal with it. They wanted me to take this pill or that pill. Talk about how I feel, all that bullshit. The reality was that I lived in a quiet hell with my goddamn mother that I couldn't shake free. She was goddamn needy and I wasn’t giving anything of m
yself.

  Never again.

  On stage, she’s playing her keyboard, singing. The words are droning on about being alone. Being hurt by all the empty space around her. On paper, it would probably read like some whiny bitch, but hearing her voice singing it, it’s pretty good. It’s catchy, it’s not whiny, and for a stuck up, smarty pants rich girl, she’s got a secret talent.

  Well… that and fucking. And sucking cock.

  That first time she slid down my shaft… if I hadn’t been so goddamn drunk, I would have lost it right then. The damn near virgin of West Wutherford with her lips sliding down and back on my shaft.

  I reach into my pocket and pull out a smoke. I light it up, knowing I’ll three drags if I’m lucky before someone bitches about it. After two drags, a woman comes to the table, obviously a waitress, and asks me to put it out.

  “Are you asking or telling?”

  “Well… asking. But you need to put it out.”

  “You have a boyfriend?” I ask.

  “Why?”

  “I’ll put this out if you sit on my lap.”

  “If you don’t put that out, I’ll have the bouncers kick you out.”

  Normally I’d stand and blow smoke in the bitch’s face and walk out. But I don’t want to miss the rest of the song.

  I stub the smoke out on the table and wipe it to the floor. I wave my hand at the cloud of smoke and grin. “There. Is that better?”

  “Asshole,” the waitress growls.

  “You’re not going to earn a tip with that attitude.”

  “You didn’t order anything.”

  “Oh, fuck. Well, get me a beer, sweetie.”

  The waitress walks away.

  My eyes are back on stage.

  I know her name but I’m afraid to think it. I don’t want to get it stuck in my mind. Bad enough I couldn’t stop thinking of her precious mouth and body. I’m temped to fuck her again. Beyond tempted. I want to fuck destroy her. Leave her holed up in her princess castle room for days, wishing she could be with me for the rest of her life.

  I like to leave lasting impressions on people.

  The waitress brings me a beer and I hand her a twenty.

  “I don’t want change,” I say.

  “I wasn’t bringing any,” she says and curls her lip.

  I smile and pucker my lips. “Thanks, sweetie. Did you spit in this?”

  “Maybe I did.”

  “I don’t like spitters,” I say. “We would have never worked. You need to swallow to earn my respect.”

  Her eyes go wide and she storms away. Chances are I won’t get served again.

  No fucking sweat off my back.

  The song ends and nobody in the fucking place claps.

  What a bunch of fucking dicks.

  I stand up and start to clap. A few other people join in.

  “Come on!” I yell.

  I can see her cheeks burning from the distance I’m at. She blushed the entire time we fucked. Her mouth full of my dick. My hands kneading at her ass, pulling her hard to my thrusts. My fingertips teasing her tight little ass hole, wanting in.

  And she looks the same right now.

  I whistle and stop clapping.

  I grab another smoke and put it between my lips.

  I turn and walk toward the front of the shithole place.

  My phone vibrates and I dig into my pocket for it.

  I look over my shoulder and she’s still staring at me. She really thinks I don’t remember her. All part of my reputation, I guess. Fuck ‘em. Leave ‘em. Forget ‘em. So if I fuck ‘em again, it’s all new to me.

  She waves at me.

  What the fuck, sweetie?

  I look at the screen on my phone and it’s a picture from my damn mother. Along with a text. I curl my lip and almost bite the ass off my smoke. I have my beer in my hand and I kick the door open and leave the shithole.

  As if little miss princess bitch couldn’t get any more tempting to me… I’m basically told in a single picture that I could never, ever fuck her again.

  Try me.

  4.

  (Jade)

  He storms out of the dive café after forcing everyone to clap for me. I see his silhouette standing there. He turns and lights up a cigarette. I see the flame, then the cherry tip burning. It’s so freaking gross, but I can’t help but stare at him through the glass.

  When his figure seems to go away I slip off the side of the stage. Everyone has gone back to their normal lives of conversations and cell phones. My big moment has come and gone. And it didn’t even matter.

  “Hey, that was amazing,” Katelyn says as she almost jumps on me.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “And who was the sexy douche trying to smoke and clap for you?”

  Sometimes I forget that Katelyn doesn’t go to college. She has her own blog and clothing thing going on, funded by her parents. I see her so much and she sometimes walks the campus with me as though she goes there.

  “His name is Jake. He’s the biggest asshole on campus.”

  “He sure seemed like he enjoyed looking at you.”

  “I doubt it. He did all that to try and mess me up. I caught him screwing someone in the bathroom.”

  “What?”

  “Exactly.”

  I don’t give much detail, but enough of them that Katelyn shakes her head. We sit and order a drink. The bartender gives me a beer for free. He winks at Katelyn when he does it, making it more than obvious that he’s working to get in her pants.

  Good for him. Good for her. Good for them.

  I drink my free beer and the bartender is right there. “Another?”

  “No. I have to drive home.”

  “Hey, is it true… who you are?” he asks, leaning in.

  “You tell me,” I say.

  “Katelyn says your father is Thomas Werlem.”

  “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “Wow. Software guru. He owns, like, what, fifty companies or something?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Mostly he sits on the boards, argues, and collects stocks and options.”

  “Pretty smart,” the bartender says. “And I mean you, not so much him. You following in those shoes?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Hey, I hate to do this… but I’m finishing up school in a year. I’m not going to be a bartender my entire life. But if I could sneak you a resume, can you put in a good word?”

  I swallow and force a smile.

  Some women are used for their bodies. I’m used for my father’s connections. Usually the guy will at least ask me on a date. Or kiss me. Or give me something. But this guy, this fucking bartender, he just asks.

  “Talk to Katelyn,” I say. I turn and stand. I elbow Katelyn. “I’m out.”

  “What? It’s early.”

  “School night for me.”

  “It’s fucking college,” Katelyn says. “It doesn’t matter. You can hang. We’ll catch a ride and I’ll bring you back for your car tomorrow.”

  “You could leave it here overnight,” the bartender says. “We gate the lot shut when we close. Nothing will happen to it.”

  It’s not like I drive some super fancy car. I don’t. I could if I wanted to. But I don’t. First off, I’m not that kind of woman. And second, my father believes a more wholesome middle class image helps him and me.

  “I’m leaving,” I say again, ignoring the bartender. “My father is coming back from vacation tomorrow.”

  “The life changing vacation?”

  “Yeah. That one. I need sleep to prepare for this. And I have a psych quiz tomorrow that I haven’t studied for.”

  “Well, have fun.”

  I know Katelyn gets frustrated with me. We became friends when we were neighbors. Before both our families got richer and built bigger houses, separating us, but never killing our friendship.

  We hug and I leave

  I walk along the side of the building, my keys in one hand, cell phone in the other. My father had taught me ba
sically that the world was going to hurt me. Everyone wanted a piece of him and I needed to always be safe.

  “You have a great voice.”

  I hear the words and then I see the glow of his cigarette.

  Jake.

  He’s a few feet away, leaning against the building. He kicks forward and tosses the cigarette to the ground, embers scattering. I hear him exhale a deep breath and my nose crunches up at the tangy smell of the smoke.

  It’s gross.

  But Jake makes it sexy. Because it’s bad and he’s bad. He’s everything wrong and everything any decent woman would avoid.

  He cuts me off and I find myself looking up at him in the soft glow of the streetlights.

  “Did you hear me, sweetie?”

  “Yes, I heard you. And don’t call me that.”

  “I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want,” Jake says to me.

  “You don’t even know who I am.”

  “Of course I do. You’re the smart, rich girl on campus.”

  “And you’re the dirty asshole,” I say.

  Jake smirks and it sends a fire through my body. I want to scream at him right now. Demand he remember our night together. But I don’t want to embarrass myself.

  “People say a lot of things,” Jake says. “But I wanted to tell you that your voice is good.”

  “Well, thanks then.”

  “I mean, it wasn’t perfect, you know? I’m sure your father could fix that. Buy you some lessons. Hell, put you in a studio and make your voice sound great.”

  I gasp and feel my hand shaking. I want to hit him.

  “You’re a dick.”

  “I have a dick,” Jake says. “And you saw it. Didn’t you, sweetie?”

  Does he remember now? I fight the urge to smile. If he does remember, I’d like to know how… you know… how things were. If I was good. If he would… do it again?

  Holyhell… what’s wrong with me?

  “You can’t even talk,” Jake says. “Walking in on me. Twice. Trying to cock block me.”

  “Cock block you? Please.”

  “Please yourself, sweetie.”

  “I heard a fucking noise, asshole. I thought she was sick or something.”