TEASE_A Stepbrother Romance

by Mia Carson

  “Grad school’s sort of time consuming,” I said, fidgeting. “How’s your mom?”

  “You know Mom. She’s doing well. After we moved out, she married my current stepdad. He’s okay. I think she was better off with your dad, but it’s her choice who she fucks.”

  I grinned. Those words came from the James I knew as a boy. “No, you can’t control who your parents fuck. I wish my dad would fuck someone, anyone, right about now. He still misses your mom so badly.”

  James nodded. “I can imagine. I know he loved her. Love can mess you up.” I was silent. I knew too well how love could mess you up. “So, enough of the depressing talk. What about work? How long have you been in this line of work?”

  “You mean a party hostess?”

  He pulled out two glasses from a nearby cabinet. “That’s what they call them these days?”

  “Excuse me?” I raised my voice a notch. What was he insinuating?

  “Don’t mean to offend you, Sara. I was just wondering what the legal term was for your sort of work,” he said. “Please continue.”

  I didn’t respond. Who the heck did he think he was? No apologies for anything! “I don’t really feel like talking about it,” I said, scowling.

  “It must be tough work,” he said, but I was quiet. “I’m sorry, Sara. I was out of line.”

  I glanced quickly at him to see a hint of smile curving his lips. What did he think? That I would keep talking about my life after all his insults? I was no longer in the mood for a conversation.

  “Sara, seriously. I wasn’t implying anything. You and I know the line of work you do, and I was just trying to have a conversation with you about it, but we can have it your way,” he said. He popped the cork and poured the bubbling liquid into the glasses. “Care for some?”

  Though I was mad at him, I couldn’t resist the cold liquid, which was probably going to help me maintain my sanity. I didn’t want to lose control with James and lash out at him. I didn’t want to give him that power over me. I took the glass from him. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s make a toast. To new beginnings,” he said.

  “Cheers,” I said as our glasses clinked. His fingers brushed against mine, sending more tingles all over my body. I felt a familiar longing between my legs. I pulled my glass back quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed my discomfort.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes,” I lied as I took a sip of the drink. “To new beginnings.”

  The wine tasted good. I didn’t know much about quality drinks, but I could tell this was expensive. The bottle looked expensive, the champagne tasted expensive.

  After a few more miles, the car started to slow down and I looked outside. We were approaching a gated part of the harbor. Of course he owned his own port. How typical. The driver pulled up to a guarded security checkpoint and the gates swung open for him. I looked around but didn’t see any restaurants.

  Curiosity was getting the better of me and I had to ask, “So what type of restaurant is Mariana?”

  He looked at me with a smile. “You’re hungry?”

  “Well, you didn’t exactly give me a chance to eat at the party,” I replied before he could finish his sentence. I was starting to get hungry and the champagne on an empty stomach had loosened my tongue.

  “You’ll be fed soon,” he said. I noticed that he didn’t answer my question about Mariana, and I let it go. I looked outside as the car slowed down again to pull into a parking space that bore the name “James Brickstone.” The guy had his own parking spot as well. What didn’t he have?

  Once the car stopped, the driver quickly opened the door for James and held it while he finished his glass of champagne. I had been nursing mine, but as James took the last sip of his, I gulped the rest of it, nearly choking. The driver opened my door.

  “Thank you,” I said as I exited the car carefully, aware that I was getting tipsy and trying to make sure I didn’t trip in the unfamiliar high heels I was wearing.

  James noticed my uneasiness; he offered me his arm. I held on to him, leaning slightly on him, allowing him to guide me as I steadied my gait. Being that close to him, I became even more unsteady from excitement. I almost tripped, but his hands held me up.

  “I see you don’t drink much alcohol.”

  “I do, but I think I’ve maxed my alcohol consumption for the day,” I said, smiling.

  “Well then, let’s get you fed, sis.”

  I looked at him, the word “sis” throwing me off guard. A few minutes earlier, we were talking as if we were strangers, and now, he was calling me “sis,” just like he used to in the past, and with a straight face too.

  I looked around for the Mariana restaurant, but all I saw were yachts anchored by the waterside. Then I saw it. The biggest of them all had Mariana etched on it. Mariana was a boat. I chuckled.

  “What’s funny?” James asked.

  “Promise not to laugh.”

  “I don’t make promises,” James said.

  “Well, in that case, I can’t tell you.”

  “Fair enough,” he said.

  “Fine, I’ll tell you anyways. I thought the Mariana was a restaurant,” I said. “And you didn’t correct me.”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he said.

  We approached the Mariana. I stood in awe as I realized I was about to enter the yacht of one of the most powerful men in all of DC. I was beginning to feel a little inferior; I wasn’t used to all the glamour, but I didn’t say a word. I decided to act cool, as if I did this every day.

  “After you, and please watch your steps,” he said as he led me toward the front of the yacht, his hands loosely on my waist. I climbed onto the boat with his hand still across my back, protectively.

  Two men, who I assumed were his staff, were on the lower deck. They greeted us and disappeared quickly after James told them our destination.

  The boat was like a mini five-star model hotel. I had once seen some yachts when I had gone to a boat show a couple of years earlier, but his was way bigger than those. It must have been custom-built to his specifications and most likely professionally furnished.

  “This is nice,” I said to James.

  “Your first time on a boat?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I didn’t want to make any assumptions,” he laughed.

  “Fair enough,” I laughed as well. “Unless you want to count a boat show I went to last year, I’ve never been on a private boat.”

  He laughed, a throaty boyish laugh. “Glad we fixed that. Come, I’ll show you around.”

  He began a tour, talking and showing me the inside. We got to the living room, which was lavishly decorated with a wide flat screen television and several leather couches and chairs. The floors were made of marble and hardwood. There were some fresh flowers on display on one of the counters, making the room romantic. He walked to a bar in the corner of the room and started to pour a drink.

  “Want some?” he asked as he pulled out two glasses from the bar and grabbed a bottle of a drink I didn’t recognize.

  “No, enough alcohol for me. Maybe later.” He nodded as he filled his glass halfway and took a sip. “Very comfortable,” I commented, pointing to a long, wide lounge chair. It seemed wide enough to fit two people perfectly. For a brief moment, I wondered if he had ever had sex on it.

  “Yes, it is. It does serve its purpose,” he said with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

  I realized what he thought I was referring to, and I felt a sudden wave of embarrassment. “I didn’t mean anything,” I said, hoping he didn’t think I wanted to try out the lounge chair. He was amused, so I knew the answer to my question. He must have had sex there at least once. I blushed at what was going on in my mind. Why was I thinking of sex with him? I knew that would be the wrong thing to do. We hadn’t even talked about our past and having sex with him now wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. But the truth was that his presence and attitude was beginning to turn me on, and I knew it would be hard t
o say no if he made a move. But if I did have sex with him, he would assume I had sex with every man in DC.

  “Of course you didn’t mean it like that. I was just teasing you,” he smiled. “So, do you want to see the rest of the boat?” he asked just as a horn blasted and the boat began to move.

  “Yes, please,” I smiled.

  “My pleasure,” he said, leading the way.

  “This is great,” I told him as we walked into another living room, but he was already walking toward the bedrooms.

  “Guest room,” he said as he opened a door to a room that was decently sized.

  “Nice. I didn’t know boats had this much space. You could live here all year round.” I peeked into the room and could see the water through a porthole.

  “I would love to live here permanently,” he said as he stepped outside for me to walk into the room. “But there’s still life out there.”

  “Very true,” I said.

  We moved toward the main bedroom of the yacht after he showed me a second room that was similar to the first.

  “That’s the master bedroom.” He pointed toward a door that was closed but made no move to go toward the door.

  “Can I see it?” I asked without thinking. I had a lot to tell Elle. I had almost asked him if I could take pictures of the boat, but I thought that so weird. Elle would have to rely on what I could tell her from memory.

  “Sure,” he said, gesturing toward the door with his hand.

  I walked toward the door, leaving him in the small hallway. I felt like I was invading his privacy, but it wasn’t often I got a chance to get a private tour of a yacht belonging to a man like James, and with no strings attached.

  When I opened the door, I felt like I had walked into the penthouse of one of those exclusive big hotels. The room was massive, and the poster bed was definitely more than a king-size. What in the world was one person doing with a mega-king bed? There was a bathroom and a bar attached to the room. The room had several windows that would let in sunlight during the day.

  “What do you think, sis?” James was behind me without warning, and I jumped, startled. He didn’t apologize. I felt his breath on my neck as he waited for my response.

  I regained my composure and turned around slowly to face him, afraid of what might happen once I did. Thoughts of the kiss we’d shared earlier flooded my mind. Thoughts of the way our bodies had merged seamlessly five years ago flooded my mind. I cursed inwardly as I realized I still loved James as much as I had back then.

  Once I faced him, he pulled me into his arms and placed his lips on mine with an urgency I hadn’t seen coming. But I was not going to fight it. His mouth was demanding and probing, as if he’d been starved of a kiss for too long. My lips took on a life of their own and curled around his, kissing him back. He pulled me even closer to him, placing his hands on the curve of my hips once he sensed that I was not hesitant, aligning our bodies perfectly. My arms encircled his neck, and I kissed him fiercely. His tongue slipped into my mouth, devouring and probing. I felt the familiar wave of warmth spreading all over my body. He was turning me on too quickly.

  “James,” I murmured, trying to regain my composure but not stopping the kiss. He pressed a little more into me and I felt a bulge pushing against my hips, causing me to swallow hard.

  “You’re okay?” he asked.

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I pushed as much as I could into him. My hands sought his buttons, and I started unbuttoning them, one after the other, eager to feel his naked torso on my skin. He understood my urgency; he had already started unzipping my dress, but he paused to pull off his jacket once the last button was undone and threw it on the floor. Soon his tie and shirt were in a pile.

  I moaned at the sight of his well-chiseled body. He had always been toned, but his boy-muscles had matured nicely into man-muscles and I liked what I was touching. Not only did this man own half the city I lived in, he had the body to go with the money. I traced his chest, suddenly nervous about taking my own clothes off. I wasn’t a supermodel, and like every woman, I had some things I didn’t like about my body. Being in the presence of this man made it more daunting to reveal my nakedness. But all that concern was soon gone because he didn’t give me much of a chance to worry too much about my body.

  I felt his hands on the zipper of my dress, and he pulled the dress slowly down until he reached my waist. My dress dropped from my shoulders to reveal my underwear. I cringed. If I had known I was going to end up here, with James, I would have been more selective, but it was too late and my old lacy pink bra and panties had to do. He pulled the rest of my dress down, and I stepped out of it.

  “Still beautiful,” he said as he looked at my body while leading me to the bed.

  I blushed, unable to respond. His lips claimed mine again, and as we landed on the mattress, he pinned me gently down. I tried to cross my hands over my old underwear, but he pried them apart.

  “I want to look at you,” he said, kissing me again. “I’ve missed you.”

  His words took me by surprise, but I had no time to decipher his meaning. His hands were unhooking my bra; in seconds my breasts were bare to him.

  “Wow,” he murmured as he kneaded my mounds with his hands, massaging them until I moaned. His mouth found my nipples and took each taut nipple slowly into his mouth, tugging, sucking, and licking them.

  I reached beneath him to feel his cock. His erection was full and hard. I slipped my hands through the zipper of his pants, my hands coming into contact first with his boxers. I yanked at the pants, eager to get them off him so I could feel his warm skin. I finally unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. He continued playing with my breasts and arousing me in ways I had forgotten were possible. His pants and boxers were soon tossed with our other clothing, and I touched his full cock.

  “Gosh,” I swooned, taking in a couple of quick breaths. I didn’t know money could buy a big dick.

  His lips curled and tugged at my nipples for a while longer while I fondled his cock, massaging it and causing it to grow longer and thicker. I wanted so badly to take him into my mouth, but he seemed to have other ideas; when I started to descend toward his cock, he pinned me down.

  “Not yet,” he said. I stopped and held on to his cock, wondering what he was going to do. “Have you ever been blindfolded?”

  I had never been blindfolded, had never been into that type of stuff, but I didn’t want him to have any reason not to give me his huge cock. Besides, this was James; I knew I’d be safe.

  “No, but I would love to try it,” I said. “Might as well go outside my comfort zone.”

  “Good decision,” he said, his eyes filled with arousal. “Close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so.”

  “Oh…okay,” I answered warily, closing my eyes. How bad could it really get? I was on a boat in the middle of nowhere with a man I hadn’t seen for years, so being blindfolded was no big deal. As long as I could opt out when I wanted. “So what if I don’t like it?”

  “You will,” he said simply as he rose from the bed. “And if you don’t just tell me.”

  I nodded. My eyes were closed, so I didn’t see much of what was going on, but I heard a drawer open and close. He hovered over me, tying what I imagined was a silk scarf over my eyes. “That wasn’t too bad,” I commented once he had finished tying the knot.

  “We’re not done,” he promised as he moved away from me again. I heard the sound of metal clanging.

  “What’s that?” I asked, my hand going straight to my blindfold in an attempt to pull it down.

  “Relax, and don’t take off your blindfold. It’s just a pair of handcuffs.”

  “Huh?”

  “They won’t bite. I promise you. If you feel uncomfortable at any time, just tell me to stop,” he said.

  I couldn’t see his face, but I believed him. One part of me was still scared of the unknown and what troubles I could get into by becoming involved with James again; another part of me wanted to see
what it felt like to be handcuffed. I had read so many books about women being handcuffed but had never had any man suggest it to me.

  “Okay, if you promise,” I said as excitement got the better of me.

  He placed my arms over my head and stretched them in a V as he attached one end of a handcuff to each hand and the other end to the bedpost. Now I knew what the posts were for, and for a quick second, I wondered how many women he had handcuffed here, but it wasn’t my place to ask and I honestly didn’t want to know.

  “Are you going to spank me too?” I asked. Didn’t handcuffs and blindfolds go with spanking? I was excited at the thought of what was going to happen, but I also wanted to set the boundaries first.

  “If you want.” He was leaving butterfly kisses along my navel as he traveled down between my legs. I was beginning to shiver.

  “I’ll think about it.” My voice was hoarse. He didn’t reply, but I felt his fingers on my pussy. I shuddered and tried to move my hands to rub his head, but I was handcuffed. I shuddered again, arching my hips toward him, pushing my moistness into his face. I felt his tongue lick my clit, and he parted my lips again as his tongue explored more of me. He darted his tongue in and out, causing me to moan and shiver. I thrashed my legs around, and that seemed to distract him; he stopped for a second and moved away. A moment later, my ankles were being shackled to the bed as well. I didn’t protest or whimper, and I was really interested in how he was going to bring me pleasure. His mouth descended on me again, slowly.

  He tugged gently at my clit with his lips and started to suck it. I writhed in pleasure, careful not to move too much lest the cuffs cut too deep into my skin. As I was getting used to the pleasure coursing through my body from the touch of his mouth on my warmth, I felt a finger slide into my pussy. Then a second one, and soon, he had three fingers inside of me, pushing and pulling as he continued to lick me. I was moaning in a voice I was sure could be heard for miles, but I didn’t care. James was eliciting sensations I had never felt. I knew I would likely never feel the same sensations again once the night ended.

  Suddenly, he moved his mouth away from my pussy and removed the cuffs on my ankles. He massaged the mark the cuffs had left. He then moved my feet closer to my hips, and parted them like a V. He placed a pillow underneath my hips, opening me up even more. I couldn’t see anything, but I knew he had set me up as wide as anyone could get. I wished I could reach out to touch him and to guide him into me, one inch at a time, but that would mean asking for the handcuffs to be removed, and I wasn’t ready to end my impromptu fantasy of the helpless girl being taken by the big bad man.