"You okay, love?" Ian asks, a slight cocky smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
That delicious off-English accent. Sexy, yet cultured.
I nod my head when I see his intense eyes looking at me.
"Good," he says, handing me the rest of the towel that's sopping wet in places now. "Get yourself cleaned up. We need to be downstairs."
I see him walk over and put his boxer briefs back on and I stare at Ian's butt. It's cute and I am so happy to just lie here.
Ian turns over to see me still lying in bed. "Little bit exhausted, are you love?" he asks with a grin. "I can do that to girls, I know."
I nod silently again.
"Well, you gotta get up, love," he says. "Otherwise our secret's out."
He brings his hand to the top of my mound and I stare at him with wide eyes. What's he going to do now?
Without warning, he pushes two fingers inside of me, and begins his patented wiggling.
I'm gasping for breath, the sensations just completely unexpected and pushing beyond my limits.
"There's plenty more of where this came from, love, and let this just be a little bit of a taste," he says with an evil smile.
I know Ian would never hurt me, so I'm actually not that worried at all. And if he's treating me rough, it's a roughness that has a velvet glove over it. But that's doing nothing for the sensations going through my body right now. Within seconds, Ian's fingers bring another orgasm exploding through my body. I freeze up, close my eyes and literally curl up, as it washes over me. It's like my mind has given up trying to resist and I just sit back and take it, having ceded power of my own body to him.
My breath ragged, I open my eyes as I see him take his fingers out. He's looking at me, and for the first time since my orgasms ripped my body apart, I'm able to speak.
"Ian..." is all I can say, but I bring my hand up to touch his face. I run my fingers up and down his cheek.
"You ready, love?" he asks? I nod.
He half carries me off the bed and I stand up on weak knees. I waddle over to the sink in the attached bathroom. Why am I waddling, you're asking? Gee, I don't know. Maybe because I just had the living shit fucked out of me?
"Get dressed," Ian's saying. "Then meet me downstairs."
I splash water on my face.
"You've got ten minutes, love," he says, buttoning his shirt. "Don't be late. Mom and Dad are waiting."
He opens the door and goes downstairs.
What? Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you one tiny little thing. Ian, the Prince of St. Chaviel. And…he's also my stepbrother.
I sigh and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is sweaty from the sex. I can smell Ian on me.
It’s not hard to see how this started. But what a story.
21
Alicia
Hey, before we get started, I need to ask you if you’ve joined the subscriber’s club, Victoria’s Secret’s yet. If you haven’t, you really should, you know? You get, like, access to bonus chapters for this book, and other books on a monthly basis, news of free promos, and ARC copies. It’s totally worth your while. I know the link is above, but well, I gotta give it to you again. Here it is, here. No wait. here.
Ok, now that that’s over, we can really sit down and start. So….this whole story with Ian started a while ago. But I remember it like it was yesterday.
Don't give me that look, please? I'm not the bad person in this story. I swear! I'm the good girl, okay? Always!
I don't do things like this.
Ever since our parents got married, I've always been the good girl. The good daughter. The good stepsister.
Even when it was just Mom and me, I was never crazy or acting out. Even after Dad died when I was 7, I was sad, sure, but I had to be strong for Mom. I learned to be respectful and tried my hardest at school.
See, after Dad died, Mom decided that we needed a change of pace. We needed to move on with our lives and we couldn't do that if we stayed in New York City. So she took a job far away. I didn't have any idea that when she told me we were going to move; we were going to move as far away as St. Chaviel. Nestled between Spain and France, and a short hop away from England, St. Chaviel had always been a haven for expatriates around the world to make their fortunes. And that's what Mom set out to do.
She began by providing PR advice for the Royal Family, and then eventually became King Leopold Carrington's private secretary. Eventually she became his wife when I was 13. She always told me she wanted to wait until I was a little bit older so it didn't seem like she was replacing Dad. I listened to her, nodded, and went back to my homework.
I guess if I hadn't done as well in school in St. Chaviel, I wouldn't have gotten the chances I'd gotten to go to world class universities afterwards. But I had, and I was now on literally the last day of my Junior year in college.
I walk down the halls, feeling free and like my body doesn't weigh an ounce. I want to celebrate, but I'm not sure how. I've been all packed for the last day and half now, and I had my papers all ready to turn in, so this semester's finals were really a breeze. I wonder what Ben is doing and decide I'll go call him once I get to my dorm room and relax for a bit.
The dorms clear out pretty quickly and the place is half-deserted as I walk through the halls, but I hear some light music coming from my room.
It must be Chrissy, I think to myself as I unlock the door and walk in.
The room is dark as I walk in, and the music is playing softly. I think I hear muffled voices and I turn on the lights.
"Oh shit," I hear Chrissy. I look over. She isn't at her desk, and she's not on her bed. I notice that there is a mass of blankets on my bed. A hand is sticking out.
Oh my God, is that Chrissy's hand?
"Chrissy?" I say, quietly at first. The hand is struggling. Is it trying to push off the blankets? No, it’s trying to hide.
I see another shape take underneath the blankets. Something's on top of Chrissy.
"Fuck," I hear Chrissy say, as if she's given up and this is a losing fight.
My face blushes before my brain realizes that I've just walked into our dorm and Chrissy was having an intimate moment with someone.
But wait! It's on my bed!
A bit annoyed I turn my gaze to give Chrissy a moment to get up and cover herself.
That's when I see the backpack....
Tumi. Brown leather. With an inscription - ‘AW to BE’. I know that backpack anywhere. Mostly because I got it for Ben's birthday.
My hearts start to beat faster. It can't be. There's no way.
I turn around and look at Chrissy, who has now popped her head out of the blanket. Her eyes are big and she's looking directly at me.
"Chrissy..." I manage to make out before I see the second head that emerges from underneath the blankets.
It's Ben. My boyfriend.
"Oh my God," I say, not knowing what else to say in a moment like this. I've watched plenty of movies where the wife catches the husband cheating or the girlfriend realizes that her man has been unfaithful and they always have some great witty takedowns and one-liners. All I manage to do is sit down on Chrissy's bed, my heart going a mile a minute.
"Alicia," Ben says, seeing my reaction. He whips off the blanket and I vaguely realize that he's naked.
I'm sorry, it's still taking me a moment to put everything together and I'm having trouble processing. Why is Ben, my boyfriend, naked in my bed? We usually always have to use his bed when we have sex. And why is Chrissy in my bed?
Just out of habit, I look down at the sheets to make sure we didn't accidentally switch the beds at some point and that I forgot. Maybe Ben was waiting for me.
"Alicia," Ben says again, putting on his tightie-whities with a snap and walking over to me. "I'm sorry you had to see that and find out this way."
Find out? That we switched the beds? This is all happening too fast for me. I look up at Ben as he comes over to where I’m standing on Chrissy’s side of the room and sits down.
I see Chrissy clasp her bra and put on her panties before getting out of the bed.
"I'm just going to give you guys a few minutes," she says, as she climbs into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top.
I never really thought of Chrissy as pretty. She ends up looking really pretty with the clothes she wears and the makeup she puts on her face, but it always looked like more work than needed to me. But who am I to judge? I just saw her in bed naked with my boyfriend.
"Ben," I say, refusing to let tears come as I look at him. "What's going on?"
Ben is sitting next to me on the bed.
"Alicia," he says again. "I thought you had already left to go the Hamptons for the summer."
Wait, that's his excuse? That he thought I was already gone?!
I make a face at him. "So what if I was?" I ask him, a bit pissed off. "That means you have open season to screw my roommate?"
Ben looks at me like I grew a second head. "Well, babe, it's the summer. I just thought..."
I look at Ben and can't help but feel a bit angry. "What?" I ask, a bit harshly. "Just because it's summer you thought it's okay to start hooking up with other girls? My roommate??"
"Well, no," he says, still sitting in his tightie-whities. "She was just here."
What the hell! That’s his only criteria? That they have to be there?
"And since it's summer, you thought you could go bang her?"
Ben sighs. "Honestly, babe, I thought you were okay with this. This has been our arrangement all three years now, hasn't it?" he asks me, looking at me a bit annoyed, as if I'm the one that should feel sorry.
What arrangement has he been talking about? Why does he look perfectly okay? As if he’s done nothing wrong?
Oh God. Oh, no!
"Are you telling me..." I can't finish the sentence, the enormity of what I'm saying is just too much for me to get through my mouth.
Ben shrugs. "You know I need to have sex on a regular basis, babe," he says standing up, and walking over to where he put his shirt. "When you're not around for the summer, I have to find it elsewhere. I thought you said you were okay with that."
That man never talked to me about something like this! How in the nine hells would I ever be okay with something like this.
Ben pulls on his polo shirt and then gets his jeans and puts them on, tucking in his shirt. I wince at myself. I've never really liked this look on him, but he doesn't listen.
"You've been cheating on me all summer? Every summer?" I ask, too horrified to think of anything else but him cheating on me and him tucking in his shirt.
He shrugs. "It's not cheating if we're taking a break, babe," he says coming back to the bed and sitting next to me.
"But, I didn't hook up with anyone, Ben," I say, partly embarrassed that I've been a fool for this long.
He shrugs and says with an affected macho vibe. "I think it's more for me, than for you, Alicia. You know I need to have sex pretty regularly." He holds my hands and looks me in the eyes, giving me the cues that he's going to say something profound. Ben's on the debate team and pre-law. He lives for this kind of stuff. "Darling, don't let it bother you, darling. It's just sex. You don't really like it. You're not too good at it. It helps me clear out my system over the summer."
I jerk back. I'm not too good at the sex? Okay, so maybe we don't do it all the time, but that's because Ben never wants to try anything new. I mean, how many different ways of lying there can I do? And only when I have three to five minutes to work with. Sometimes I don't even know what it is he wants me to do when he's on top of me thrusting away and looking out into the distance.
But I can't let go of his words how he's cheating on me because I'm bad at sex. Tears come to my eyes but I don't want him to see me. I turn away. But I refuse to cry.
"But, how is this summer the same?" I ask, knowing that in his mind I've ceded the last two summers. "We're both going to be in the Hamptons!"
Ben shrugs. "It's just the pattern, babe. We take a break for the summer, and then I give you a call when the year starts if we want to get back together again."
I wonder when I was supposed to even know any of this.
Ben's phone rings and he looks at it. He turns to me.
"Babe, it's my dad," he says. "Can you give me a minute?"
I nod my head and get up from the bed. Ben doesn't like it when he talks to his parents in front of me and usually asks for some privacy. But there's nowhere to go in the room. I sigh and walk outside where he closes the door. I look at my phone. I figure I can go to the gym for a while.
Wait a second. That guy just kicked me out of my own room after cheating on me! I look for my keys, but I left them inside. I knock on the door. No answer. I knock harder. I kick.
Ben opens the door, his eyes squinted in annoyance.
I push past him and he looks at me like I've gone crazy.
"Alicia, what is..." he starts but I don't let him finish.
"Get the fuck out of this room, you stupid asshole!" I shout, not knowing I had it in me.
Ben looks at me in shock. He covers the mouthpiece to his phone and says to me, "Excuse me?"
"Out!! Or I call the cops!" I yell again.
"You're crazy!" he yells and walks fast to the door. "Have a good summer, bitch!" he yells and slams the door on his way out.
I flop down on my bed and bury my head in the pillows but refuse to cry.
But it smells like Ben and Chrissy. I can't have that. Sighing, in the midst of my sadness, I go over to Chrissy's bed and lay down. At least this one smells just like her and no one else.
The thought makes me want to cry even more. But no. No tears for him!
22
Ian
I look out the window of the Bentley as it's driving down the street, and see that the line to the fucking club goes nearly one fucking city block.
Jesus Christ, I think. I'm making money hand over fist on this club.
It's not like I need any more money. I didn't buy the club for its fucking money. I bought it as a way to relax. A way to unwind. A place to pick up the sluts so I don't have to do a lot of work to figure out who I'm going to fuck for the night.
I guess the rest of the kingdom knows that too. Hell, by the looks of it, the rest of fucking Europe seems to be in on the goddamn secret.
This is my third year at the St. Chaviel Military Academy and today's my last day. A few of the boys in my unit wanted to go out and let loose some steam. Can't say I blame the lads, they've had a wicked tough year.
Me? This shit is too easy for me. I'm not lying. I fucking swear, it's like the instructors are treating me with fucking kid gloves because I'm the fucking prince.
Only, I don't want them to treat me with kid gloves. I don't want to be unprepared if I go into battle and end up not knowing things that they were supposed to be teaching me in the classroom.
That leaves me with one thing that I focus on during my free time and that's training myself.
I'm not worried. I'm the fucking best.
LeBron's got nothing on me.
I know I sound like a cocky, arrogant bastard, and I guess if you called me that, I'd look you in the face and tell you that you were absolutely right.
Then, if you were a bloke, I'd beat the shit out of you.
But guess what? Nothing would happen to me.
Because I'm the fucking prince.
It's good to be the son of the King. I don't live in the palace when I'm in school, but I do have to spend summer holiday with the family. Which is fine. It gets me out of boring situations like I'm in right now. And honestly, picking up sluts to fuck is so simple to me, it’s become boring.
"Stop the car, here," my mate Max instructs the driver.
"Oh come on, mate," I say out loud. "What's the fucking point of having a car drop you off if we're walking the whole fucking block to get to the club?"
Max hems and haws but I know the reason all the blokes are going on with this stupid plan.
It's so we
can walk by and have our pick of the ladies.
If these boys weren't in my unit, I'd be gone faster than a Thai hooker once she's got your money. But they're my best mates. If we were at war, they'd be having my backs. I'd be having theirs.
I sigh and go along with their plan.
We exit our black stretch-Bentley and the five of us immediately draw looks. People take out their phones to take pictures of us.
That's right. They're taking pictures of me.
My 6 foot plus frame.
The way my jeans are draped down my legs and, with my shirt untucked and unbuttoned, showing off a part of my chest.
I know I have a cut fucking body. The sluts just fucking love to run their hands along my chiseled abs and fucking ripped pecs. They love to run their tongue all over that shit. I don't stop them at all.
I know they're staring at me right now. The way my shirt is tightly around my ripped body, highlighting what needs to be highlighted. I know they can see the bulge in my pants. The 11 inches of thick cock that I have swinging between my legs. Ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice to fuck the stray female of the herd that crosses my sights.
I know they're staring at my jaw. My royal fucking jawline. With my dimples. My icy blue eyes. My tousled hair.
My mates are doing their best to be the peacock, strutting and swaggering their way up the line, making their way for the fucking door.
"Boys, this looks ridiculous," I tell them. "I own the fucking club. It's not a big deal that we're skipping the line. We don't have to make a big show of it. People are going to laugh at you."
I'm just looking out for them. I give fuck all if anyone laughs at me. I'll just screw their wife on their bed while they're laughing at me.
Don't think I haven't done it. Ask The News of the Times editor from St. Penares who was writing an op-ed piece about how entitled and spoiled I was while he was in our country on holiday.
President Stepbrother...With Benefits: A Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Page 19
