by Leanne Brice
I can’t fault Daisy for making that decision, but it’s harder to play it cool with Danny and his she-devil right there.
I turn to the male stranger.
“So how do you know the newlyweds?” I ask him.
As I wait for his answer, I suddenly realize he’s actually cute.
He’s mid- to late-twenties like Danny, has adorably unruly wavy dark hair, and dark eyes with long eyelashes behind a pair of glasses. He’s slender and probably at least a few inches taller than my five-seven frame.
Not bad.
“I actually work with your dad at the lab,” he says.
“Oh!” I turn to him with genuine interest. “What is it you do there?”
He tries to explain his role to me, but it’s just nerdy-nerd McGeek Greek to me. Heck, all I know is my dad’s a Clinical Research Director—I have no idea of the nature of his job.
“That’s interesting,” I say, nodding my head. “I’m Emma, by the way.”
“I know,” he says. “Your dad has shown me pictures. I’m Ross.” We shake hands in a silly way and grin at each other. “And what about you?” he asks, lighting up a bit—as if it just hit him he might actually have a shot with me. “What type of work do you do?”
I suddenly realize I’m actually an eligible bachelorette, and that it shouldn’t be a surprise if he’s interested—I dimly noticed he’s not the only one who has given me a look of appreciation here, and as hard as I can be on myself sometimes, once again, I found myself admiring what was reflected back in the mirror once I was dressed.
I went with the red dress from Danny’s wardrobe gift, and it’s a bit sexy for the occasion, but not ridiculously so—it’s not like I have Jessica Rabbit kind of curves.
My slim body with my modest ass and breasts can get away with a whole lot more than those with junk in the trunk or village-feeding boobs can; I don’t end up looking provocative. On someone like Sofia Vergara, this dress would cause car accidents and spontaneous combustions, but I just look like a living mannequin.
Still, I’m fit and slim, not to mention a natural blond and blue-eyed, which is more than enough for most men, I’ve learned.
“She works with me,” Danny says before I can answer Ross, startling me with his sudden booming tenor.
If I’m not mistaken, he sounded a tad bit possessive.
I avoid his eyes, ignoring the bubbling indignation in me—I mean, how dare he, when that hussy’s right next to him? “Yes,” I say to Ross, “I work for Danny’s company now—his mom got me a job there recently. I hadn’t actually been looking for one, but why look a gift horse in the mouth, right?”
“What were you doing before?” Ross asks, clearly not processing or caring for what seemed to be a warning from Danny, making me admire him.
“To be honest, after my mom died a few years ago, I sort of went on a long-ass journey of finding myself. I traveled all over the country—hiking, studying, learning, living.” I shrug.
“Ahh—so you backpacked across America. And Europe?”
“Something like that—I lived abroad for a few months as part of a study abroad program when I was still in college. My mom’s death drove home we don’t actually have all the time in the world to do what we want, so I just went crazy, doing everything that crossed my mind as something I might have an interest in. I even made an official bucket list.”
Ross’s eyebrows lift. “At…how old? You can’t be more than twenty-four now.”
“My mom died when I was twenty-one—just as I started my senior year. Suddenly, finishing college for some bachelor’s degree didn’t matter anymore, and I started working on my bucket list at twenty-two. I’m exactly twenty-four now,” I clarify, rewarding him with a smile for his astuteness.
“But wait, you were that close? You dropped out your senior year? Emma, you have to finish—it might not seem like it now, but it’s advantageous to have a bachelor’s at minimum. I know plenty of people find success without it, but it’s not like you never started. How many credits do you have left?”
“Fifteen.”
“Oh, you’ve got to do it—that’s one or two more semesters, max.”
“Perhaps,” I say with another careless shrug.
“So how far have you gotten with this list of yours?” Ross continues.
“Pretty far—although, considering I’ve had two years, not far enough. I’m about halfway done.”
“The most important things out of the way, though?”
I was all set to say yes, but something inside me suddenly says that’s a lie.
But I definitely took care of the top things on the list—what the hell is the hesitation about?
“Yup,” I say, ignoring the twinge inside me calling me a liar.
“Let’s dance,” a female voice suddenly says, bringing me back to the table at large.
It’s the cute brunette, of course, smiling up at Danny all adoringly and sickeningly.
The two get up and head for the dance floor, and I feel like my audience left.
It takes me a second to realize I hadn’t actually been talking to Ross all that time—I’d been talking to Danny.
“You wanna go too?” Ross asks, indicating the dance floor with a tilt of his head.
“Why not?” I say, plastering on a smile.
Ross and I join the rest of the folks horribly dancing to upbeat music.
When the song is done, I leave Ross on the dance floor to head back to my gloriously empty table, ready to down another glass of wine.
“Emma!” Daisy intercepts me before I get there.
I hug her and congratulate her, laying it on thick how beautiful the ceremony was.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” she says with a radiant smile. Her eyes dart around and then settles on the dance floor. “Looks like your new stepbrother’s having a good time!”
I cringe—hopefully just on the inside.
“Yeah!” I say. “By the way, Ross wasn’t a setup, was he?” I ask playfully.
“Well, it just made sense since you two were alone…” She winks at me and I laugh.
“So how are things going?” she asks.
“He’s a nice guy. We’ll see,” I say with a half-shrug.
“All right,” she says, squeezing my hand. “Off to finish my rounds!”
She flashes me another wide smile then takes off and I plop my butt down in my seat.
I glance around for a while, and I notice Danny extricating himself from his date, making gestures that seem to say he’ll be back soon.
I watch him leave the room, then after counting to ten—the longest ten seconds ever—I get up and, as casually as I can, follow him.
He ducks into a room, and before he can close the door behind him I stop it with my palm.
“What are you doing here?” he asks as he sees me.
“What are you doing here?” I fire back. “Your date is probably lost without you. I’m actually surprised she didn’t start humping you right there on the dance floor—she’s clearly in heat.”
“Are you jealous?” he asks, the corner of his mouth tilting up as I enter the room and close the door behind me.
“Do I seem jealous?” I say, grabbing him by the wrist and sliding his hand up my dress.
“What are you doing?”
“You, hopefully,” I say as I feel out his groin area with my other hand. “What is this place anyway?”
“The bride’s son’s suite,” he answers.
I don’t really care if he’s pulling my leg or not as his cock comes alive under my touch.
“You know we can’t do this,” he says.
“Can’t we? Just once more—third time’s the charm, right? Our parents probably aren’t official yet—this is our last chance.”
“Emma…”
I start loosening his belt and undoing his pants, and in no time, I have his hard cock out.
“Take me right here,” I say, hiking up my dress.
“Emma,” he says in a
different voice—a tortured sounding one.
Then he backs me up to the nearest wall, lifts me up against it, and guides my legs around his waist.
He pulls my panties aside, finds my slick hole with his smooth, mushroom-shaped tip in no time, then rubs the head of his dick against my folds for a moment, picking up some of my juices.
Then he pushes inside me with one hard stroke, making me cry out.
He starts fucking me fast, his stiff cock relentlessly plowing my needy cavern while my body hangs trapped between his tall, muscular frame and the wall at my back.
He pumps and pumps into my wet pussy, plowing me wildly as I try to control my moans.
“Fuck, Emma,” he says as he moves faster, and I know he’s about to come, as am I.
He smothers my wail of orgasmic release with his mouth as it closes over mine, and I accept his kiss happily as his cock throbs inside me, my pussy pulsing all over his dick in the aftermath of my climax while he shoots his load deep.
When his mouth pulls away, he whispers, “Fuck, Emma” again.
“You lose your vocabulary when you’re plugged into me,” I say.
He’s clearly not in a humorous mood.
“This was a mistake; we shouldn’t have done this,” he says, then he pulls his still-hard cock out of my dripping cunt.
“Too late!” I say, trying to ignore the stab of pain at his words. “But I will admit—maybe I was a little jealous.”
He grins at that.
“Sabrina’s just a friend, you know—barely. I’ve known her for years—she’s the sister of a friend of mine. She just came for the free food and booze, actually. There’s never been anything between us.”
“Then why was she all over you?”
“She was having fun with the role. I told her we had to act like a couple, but she knows how I feel about you, and she was just helping me out, I guess—teasing out if you felt anything near the same.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter now, does it? Our parents are married, and you and I are technically step-siblings. It’s not illegal for us to be together, but we both know some people won’t react well, and I’ll do everything in my power not to embarrass my mother; she hates scandal.”
My mind is still sort of reeling from the implication that he feels more for me than immense appreciation for helping his dick swellings go down.
“We better get back in there before someone starts to suspect we’re up to no good. And don’t worry—our secret’s safe with Sabrina.”
That’s not what I’m worried about at all.
We pull ourselves together—Danny having an easier time at it than I do. All he’s got to do is tuck his cock back in and zip up.
When I’ve done my best, I say, “We can do it in secret, you know. I’m not saying we carry on a real relationship or anything—just that we go at it whenever we get the urge until it’s out of our systems. It’s far more dangerous to tell ourselves no, isn’t it? After all, someone once told me they hated when someone tells them they can’t have something, and I feel the exact same way. Making each other forbidden fruit is probably far more dangerous than indulging until quenched in a more controlled setting.”
He seems to think about it for a second.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he finally says. “But we have to be extremely careful.”
“Well, we can plan more sensibly now instead of risking losing all logic in a moment of wild, unstoppable lust.” I look at him pointedly.
He nods his agreement then sends me back to the reception area, saying he’ll hang out for five minutes before returning to the reception himself in order to reduce suspicion.
I practically skip on the way back.
We might not be able to have anything real, but the arrangement we’ve come to is a hell of a lot better than no relationship at all.
Chapter 9
MONDAY
I figure it’s best to talk to Danny in-person about our next rendezvous—texts can be intercepted pretty easily, but he probably makes sure his office isn’t bugged.
At some point during the day, I pop by his office, deciding during the workday is better than at the end of it—it’ll look like business as usual this way.
I’m still pretty new after all, and my role here isn’t quite solidified—it’s not so strange to visit the head honcho in charge.
Especially since everyone probably knows now I’m his stepsister by now, judging by the more curious, appraising looks I’ve been getting. Plus, I caught at least one whispered gossipy conversation starring the two of us.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised—it’s not like it’s a secret his mom and my dad got married.
He probably let it slip to at least a few people he was going to his mom’s wedding over the weekend, and he might have even mentioned she was getting hitched to the new girl’s dad.
I’m smiling as I head for his closed office door, but muffled, distressed sounds coming from behind it erase my smile pretty quickly.
I place my ear near the door, trying to hear what the fuss is about.
I have to pull back quickly and hop out of the way once it suddenly flies open, and a tall, dark-haired guy with blue eyes moves to exit.
He looked startled at first to see me there, but then he sneers at me.
He looks vaguely familiar—though I can’t recall seeing him around here, despite looking like he might work here in his tailored suit and slicked back hair.
Dude, too much gel.
He practically skips away—clearly not the one in distress—and I turn to Danny who’d been standing and glaring at him the whole time.
“What the heck was that about?” I ask, all of a sudden not so sure I want to know.
I close the door behind me.
“What are you doing here, Emma?” he asks, sounding strained.
His tone causes a slight stab of pain.
“I…came to make plans for later, maybe?” I say with a tentative smile.
He shakes his head, his eyes glancing away.
“What is it, Danny?”
I walk toward him, intending to throw my arms around him and hug him I’m so happy to see him, but he holds a hand up, stabbing me again.
Then he points to his desk and I follow his point.
Some eight by tens in full color are spread out on it, along with a nine by twelve manila envelope.
Unremarkable items—except the eight by tens are starring Danny and me—him in a slate suit fitting him to perfection except for loosened pants, and me in a red dress hiked up, legs wrapped around him.
Our naughty bits aren’t exactly fully exposed, but it’s clear what the two of us are doing.
“Oh, shit.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Danny runs his hands through his hair and starts pacing, his jaw working as he bites down on his teeth.
I can’t ask a dumb question like “How did he get those?” or anything because, although Danny and I hadn’t been in public or anything while doing the deed, we weren’t exactly in private either.
It was a dumb, impulsive move on both our parts—the kind of thing I was hoping to avoid when I proposed we keep going but keep things sensibly under wraps.
“Reggie there—whom you met on his way out—is the head of a rival company, the son of a friend of my father’s, which is why he was at the wedding.”
Ah…that’s where I probably saw him.
I didn’t get to introduce myself after the whole quickie-with-Danny thing—I headed out of there as soon as I could after I found my dad and congratulated him.
“He’s blackmailing me, of course—he wants me to pull out of a multi-million-dollar deal and let him have the upper hand there—or else the photos get released.”
“Shit,” I repeat.
He’s not even plugged into me and I’ve lost my vocabulary!
Damn it—this is a total fucking disaster. Or could be—depends on Danny’s next move.
> I realize that no matter what he does, this indiscretion of ours will be hanging over his head.
How can he even guarantee the dude won’t blackmail him again? Or get someone else to release the photos down the line? Reggie can always pretend he’d gotten hacked or something and didn’t violate an agreement.
“What are you going to do?” I ask Danny.
He just stares at me for a few seconds.
I see a number of emotions pass through his eyes, and then they all suddenly disappear and he looks emotionless.
“I’ll probably give in—get my legal team to draw up an iron-clad NDA, etc., have him hand the photos over, and let that particular business deal go. I don’t need you or my mom to be embarrassed by something like this.”
He runs his hand through his hair again.
“I’m so disappointed in myself. I’m way smarter than this—I shouldn’t have let it happen; this is all my fault.” Then he pauses a moment, and I sense something bad coming. “Obviously, we can’t see each other anymore…”
“Now wait a minute—who says we can’t still be smart about this?”
“Emma, we barely got off the ground and look what happened. At some point, one or both of us will slip up again, and I refuse to hand over more fodder to my rivals. This is a pretty solid wake-up call, isn’t it? We’re playing with fire here, and I don’t want anyone to get burned.”
“But Danny…!”
I don’t know why tears are stinging my eyes—it’s not like we’re even serious!
“You can still keep your job here, of course, but we’ll do like we should have done in the first place and stay out of each other’s way.”
“Actually, you can just shove the job; I told you I didn’t need it anyway. I quit!”
“Emma, don’t be ridiculous…”
I turn and run out of there before I have to suffer the humiliation of having him see me cry.
I pull myself together as best as I can before hitting the elevator, and I try to act normal as I leave the building and my still-new work life behind.
I had to put my phone on silent pretty quickly—Danny called me after I left, but I was not in the mood to talk to him yet, and I ignored all texts and calls the whole ride home.
