The Need Boxset

by K. I. Lynn

  With a low sigh, he does.

  Another pause on my part, and I’m reminded of last night again. I’m used to Brayden doing what he wants, whenever he wants. Him actually acquiescing to a request of mine is utterly new to me.

  I blink up at him, taken aback.

  He glowers at me.

  I wonder . . . biting the corner of my lip, I decide to give it a shot. “You can go now.”

  “You’re pushing it, baby,” he says, eyes on my mouth.

  Fuck me. I swallow hard. “I want you to leave.”

  “I already gave you that last night. Today? I’m sticking around. For a little while, at least.”

  So much for acquiescence. “Brayden, I can’t afford to argue with you about this with my friends around.”

  “Then don’t.”

  I resist the urge to jam one of the hangers into his eye. Regardless of my feelings toward him, it really is a very pretty eye. “What can I say to get you to leave me alone?”

  Brayden gives me a sheepish smile and shrugs. “Absolutely nothing. Short of forgiving me and admitting you’re mine, of course.”

  “I’d be lying if I said any of that.” I stomp out of the stall. I’m almost at the entrance to the dressing rooms when it occurs to me. “You can’t exit at the same time as I do. What if my friends see you?” There’s no plausible way to explain why my stepbrother is in the dressing room with me.

  I won’t lie; I’m also hoping to use the opportunity to lose him.

  “I’ll wait, but don’t think I won’t find you if you try to run out of here.”

  Turning, I glare at him.

  He lifts an eyebrow. “I know you. No running, baby.”

  “Damn you. Stop calling me baby!”

  The other eyebrow joins the first. He stares at me as if he knows why it drives me crazy when he calls me that, what it does to me.

  He makes me feel powerless. Like I have no choice in this attraction, and I hate him for it.

  But I have no plans of ever fucking him, not any more, and fucking him was the only thing I would’ve risked discovery for.

  That and being his girl.

  A discarded, stupid dream.

  I will not face an entire town’s censure for nothing more than an inconvenient distraction and a few moments of lapsed judgement. That means I somehow have to convince this stubborn fuck to behave so that no one suspects what’s going on between us.

  Which also means I’m stuck with him until I can persuade him to leave.

  “You’re a ruthless bastard,” I grumble.

  “Only when it comes to the woman I love.”

  My brittle heart threatens to crack. “Whatever. Just wait here until it’s safe to leave.” I hightail it out of the dressing room, looking left and right like a guilty bitch.

  Which I am. A guilty bitch who had just been entertaining the idea of letting her stepbrother eat her out inside that dressing room.

  Ashley spots me from the line and calls me over.

  Schooling my facial expression, I join the girls in the line.

  “Did everything fit?” Ashley asks me.

  I nod. A nonverbal lie.

  Great. Looks like I’m buying the bra Brayden picked out for me.

  “Where’s that hot piece of man meat you have for a stepbrother?” Jenna looks around, clearly trying to spot Brayden.

  Unwarranted rage ignites in me. “You do realize he’s the biggest whore in town, right? And, hopefully, he broke his leg somewhere and won’t be joining us.”

  Marilyn smiles. “You guys seem to act like you’re really brother and sister. It’s adorable.”

  This horrifies me. More than it should. I don’t want to be seen as a girl interested in Brayden; the thought of us coming across as brother and sister makes me downright sick.

  I’m such a mess.

  A warm, muscular arm drapes over my shoulders. I know who it is without looking.

  “Kira only pretends to hate me,” Brayden says. I can hear the smile in his voice.

  “This is a filthy lie.” I elbow him in the side. He, of course, doesn’t let me go. “I despise you, and you know it.”

  “Kira’s full of it. She loves me.” He smiles at my friends.

  They melt in unison.

  I hate them all.

  Especially Brayden for that lie he just said. It’s impossible. Who would be foolish enough to love someone who has hurt them so much?

  One of the girls at the register calls next. I rush forward, out of his hold, and hand her my items.

  Brayden stops next to me and hands her his card.

  What the hell?

  Is he stupid?

  I open my mouth to protest.

  His eyes flicker in my direction. “Fight me over this baby, and I’ll kiss you. Right here, in front of everyone.”

  I believe him. I really do.

  And I’m absolutely disgusted with myself because I’m getting wetter with each “baby” he throws my way. “You wouldn’t,” I whisper, calling his bluff.

  He licks his bottom lip. “Try me.”

  The self-disgust expands at the impulse I have to try him. Definitely no doubt that he means it. For some reason, he’s become even more amoral than before. When it comes to me, a part of him really doesn’t care what everyone would think of him. He doesn’t care if they judge him for wanting his stepsister.

  Silently seething, I watch as the cashier uses his card to ring up my lingerie purchases.

  I now own sexy bras and panties that Brayden bought me.

  Unfortunately, I’m not the only one watching. The girls are too.

  Can they tell why he’s buying me these things? That he wants to see me wearing them?

  Is it obvious that I’m aching, my clit needy and swollen because he’s the one paying for my lingerie?

  I’m breathless the entire way out of Victoria’s Secret, and Brayden watches me, as if he knows why I’m having a hard time breathing.

  “Cheesecake Factory, guys. I’m fucking starving.” Marilyn walks ahead of us, her blond ponytail bouncing behind her.

  My way out. “Well, Brayden. It’s been real. Thanks for the—”

  That damn arm drapes over my shoulders again. “I’m pretty hungry, too. Cheesecake Factory sounds perfect.”

  Jenna and Ashley stare at us.

  I fight to keep my face from turning red.

  Thankfully, Brayden has the common sense to get his arm off me.

  “You can’t go find somewhere else to eat while I hang out with my friends?”

  “Nope. Plus, the girls don’t mind. Do you, girls?”

  “Of course we don’t mind,” the trained little monkeys sing.

  Of course they don’t.

  Jenna turns, walking backwards, brown eyes fucking Brayden up and down. “You can tag along whenever you want.”

  I stew in an unnerving fury as we walk to the restaurant.

  Jenna doesn’t know I’m attracted to him, what I once felt for him, I remind myself. Yes, I want to freaking kill her, but she’s like this with all hot men. Always has been.

  All my friends are shameless when it comes to sexy men. It’s to be expected that Marilyn and her twin Ashley keep sneaking horny glances at Brayden also.

  Doesn’t matter that I know all this, how I try to rationalize it. By the time we’re in the Cheesecake Factory, my mood is beyond foul. A hostess leads us through the dimly lit restaurant toward a booth.

  I stop in my tracks, fully expecting my friends to go at it, battling for the right to sit next to Brayden.

  They all cram into one side of the booth, talking and giggling.

  They left the other side empty for just me.

  And Brayden.

  That’s when panic hits. Oh no . . .

  “You have to go,” I tell Brayden in a rush. They’re going to interrogate me once he leaves, and I’ll have to come up with believable lies and do so fast, but the sooner he leaves the better.

  The sooner he leaves, the sooner
they stop jumping to more conclusions.

  Brayden pauses in the middle of reading something on his phone. Scowling, he puts it in his pocket. “Tough luck. I’m not going anywhere.”

  What is he so mad at? “I’m serious, Brayden. I think my friends suspect something. I know them.”

  “Tough. Luck.” He grabs my arm, practically forcing me to the booth, staring all around the restaurant with that expression that promises a beatdown.

  Who is he looking for?

  I want to bash him over the head for not taking me seriously. Not that I can. All I can do is slide into the booth, guilt and panic suffocating me.

  The girls purposely sat together, leaving me no choice but to sit next to Brayden. If any of them had really wanted him the way they’d seemed to, it would’ve been Battle Royale among them to get to sit next to him. There’s no doubt in my mind they suspect who Brayden is to me.

  The guy who destroyed me months ago.

  He slides in next to me, leaving a foot of space between us. His eyes continue to flicker around the restaurant.

  Ashley’s twinkling blue eyes focus on me.

  I get busy studying the menu, making sure to keep my eyes away from Brayden.

  Deja vu hits.

  The last time I was in a restaurant with Brayden, in an eerily similar situation, I ended up getting fingered under the table.

  Then, I was eaten out inside a bathroom stall.

  Right before he rocked his huge cock against my pussy and I felt it coming in my hands.

  God help me.

  Arousal slaps me, gaining force. I cross my legs, my pussy throbbing between them. I can’t have him near me. I just can’t.

  A waiter comes to take our orders.

  When it’s my turn, I can’t find the strength to speak. Brayden’s at least nice enough to order something for me—the same thing he’s having, but really, at this point I don’t care.

  I don’t need food. I need distance from him. Space. He’s affording me neither. Yes, there’s at least a foot between his body and mine, but just having him in the same room drives me nuts.

  Brayden’s large hand lands on my knee.

  I choke back a gasp. No, not again.

  Please, don’t do this to me . . .

  “Move over, I have to go to the bathroom,” Jenna tells Ashley and Marilyn.

  “Actually, me too.” Marilyn stands.

  Ashley follows her out of the booth. “I’ll go with you guys.”

  Panicked, I open my mouth—

  Brayden’s hand slides up, cupping my pussy over the thin, loose genie pants I’m wearing.

  Silencing me.

  The girls abandon me, without so much as a “we’ll be back.”

  “Let go of me,” I say under my breath.

  Brayden turns his head in my direction. The way he stares at me heats me up all over.

  I look away.

  He rubs his fingers into my clit. “Look at me, baby.”

  I bite down on my lip, trying to shift away. “B-Brayden. Stop. Please.”

  Sucking on his bottom lip, he rubs my clit again, soft circles that almost make me levitate off my damn seat. “You need to come, Kitty. Let me give it to you. I’m dying for it.”

  “St-stop. People . . . my friends.”

  “I’m keeping an eye out. Don’t worry about that. Just feel me.”

  I do. I feel what he’s doing to me everywhere, each light stroke driving me crazier. Pressing my legs together does nothing but trap his hand there, right up against my aching core.

  The pleasure spikes. My hips rock into his hand. I’m too hungry to fight this. The desperation claws at my soul, ripping my resolve from me.

  Brayden grabs my hand and pulls it under his arm, laying it over his lap.

  One feel of him, rock-hard, the fleshy tip twitching under dark blue denim—I fall into his side, shaking. My hand clenches around him.

  I want it.

  Fuck, I haven’t had it yet, and it feels like I live for that dick.

  He groans deep in his chest, the sound pure gravel.

  My eyes lock on the side of his neck, on the clear imprint of teeth. My teeth. I bit own on that spot last night, marked him as mine.

  I want to give him more.

  Want to bite that big, hard body everywhere.

  I want to sink my teeth into him while the huge length in my hand pounds into my pussy.

  My hand squeezes him, sliding up and down, loving the feel of him.

  “Fuck, Kitty. Wait,” he whispers in a wild tone; I look at him. He’s staring straight ahead, his expression neutral, but his eyes are unfocused with lust. The veins on his thick neck bulge, the skin bright red. “Baby, stop. I’m going to lose control.” He tries to pry my hand away from his dick.

  I refuse to let him. His fingers are still playing with my clit, making it throb harder. “No. Give this to me.”

  He hisses at my words. “It’s yours. Whenever you want it.”

  I want it now. I want him to drag me off somewhere and slide it into me. Give it to me rough and raw so I can finally fucking forget him.

  “Baby, you have to let me go,” Brayden pleads quietly.

  I love this. Love having him under my control, his sanity shredding apart bit by bit because of me.

  In other words: I love knowing I can do to him what he does to me.

  Hiding my face behind his shoulder, I moan. “Brayden, it’s . . . God, I’m going to . . .”

  “I will too if you don’t let me go, and I won’t be able to control it. Kitty, you have to let me go.”

  All his urgent tone does is turn me on more. “I want this.” I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore—can’t understand the magnitude of what I’m confessing. The consequences it will have. “I want this cock.”

  “Fuck.” He rubs my clit harder. Faster . . . “Tell me to take you somewhere and give it to you. You know you want it, Kira. You want that tight little pussy grabbing onto my cock.”

  I wish I could refute that.

  I want to demand he do exactly as he said.

  I’m too weak to do any of that.

  Biting into the back of his shoulder with all my strength, I swallow back a scream, falling apart, coming so hard my legs go numb as sensation arcs through me.

  And, oh God, I’m coming in a restaurant, in plain view of anyone that could happen to look, and I can’t stop fucking coming.

  So good. Yes. I bite down harder into his skin.

  Brayden yanks my hand off him. Tension shoots through his body.

  Even half-gone, I know what it means.

  Someone’s coming.

  The fear that my friends might see us jerks me upright. I stare down at my lap, trying to use my hair to hide my most likely flushed face.

  I reach for his hand, wrapping my fingers around his wrist to remove it from between my legs.

  A giggle.

  A sound I know very well. One that makes me sick to my stomach.

  My head jerks up at that evil, malicious, almost fucking witchy sound.

  “Hi, Brayden!” Jennifer stops at our table, her face glowing at the sight of him.

  I can’t stop hating her. Can’t get over it. I don’t think I’ve ever despised anyone as much as I despise her.

  Instead of pushing his hand away, I press it closer. It’s instinctual, a bitter impulse I have no control over. I don’t want him to forget it was my pussy he was just begging for.

  His hand snaps around my mound roughly, an utterly possessive grip that steals my breath.

  And then I realize why.

  Austin stops next to Jennifer, eyeing me and Brayden.

  I go weak, my hold on Brayden’s hand loosening.

  Austin’s hanging out with Jennifer?

  Nausea rolls inside me.

  Austin’s eyes meet mine, and guilt flashes in them. That is, until he looks away, locking eyes with Brayden.

  Both men size each other up, and if I didn’t feel so sick, I might be worried
about them attacking each other.

  “What are you doing here, Brayden?” Jennifer doesn’t even try to distance herself from Austin before she smiles flirtatiously at Brayden.

  That fucking bitch. Is she trying to make Brayden jealous?

  Oh. My. God.

  The lack of space between her and Austin . . .

  They slept together again. Recently.

  Did he leave my house last night and go straight to her?

  Or did he seek her out this morning so he could bust his nut inside her?

  I stare straight at him, willing the answer to my silent questions out of him.

  Austin’s eyes momentarily find mine once more.

  More guilt.

  I’m going to throw up.

  “I’m hanging out with Kira,” Brayden says calmly, but his body vibrates with a silent fury that I can’t help but sense.

  Jennifer barely acknowledges me, but the disdain in her eyes is pretty fucking clear.

  Don’t worry, bitch. I feel the same way.

  “That’s so nice of you to make time to hang out with your sister.”

  I slide my eyes closed and count to ten. It does nothing.

  I fucking hope Austin said my name while fucking her.

  A petty, vicious thought, but the ugliness in her brings out the worst in me.

  When Brayden doesn’t respond to her snide little comment, Jennifer sidles up to Austin and links her arm with his.

  He lets her.

  Any lingering doubt vanishes.

  I asked him to leave last night and he ran to her.

  He slept with her again.

  She and I . . . we really are trading men back and forth.

  It’s fucking disgusting.

  So disgusting that it’s making me want to cry.

  I don’t want to trade men with her.

  I don’t want Austin now that he’s been with her again. When he’s also been with her so many times in the past.

  Don’t want Brayden, either. I don’t want any man that has touched, kissed, and been inside that fucking slut.

  She was just sucking Craig’s dick at a party last week.

  “Let me up,” I tell Brayden, hearing how small my voice is.

  His eyes snap to mine.

  That quiet rage in him lances me.

  I know what he thinks.

  I don’t care.

  I need to get away from them. All of them. This level of dysfunction is more than I can honestly endure.