Married to My Stepbrother

by Virginia Nelson

  Married to My Stepbrother

  Virginia Nelson

  After Glows Publishing

  © Copyright 2017 Virginia Nelson

  * * *

  Published by After Glows Publishing

  PO Box 224

  Middleburg, FL 32050

  AfterGlowsPublishing.com

  * * *

  Cover by Virginia Nelson

  Formatting by AG Formatting

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  AfterGlowsPublishing.com

  Dedicated to my kinkier pals…

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  About the Author

  Also by Virginia Nelson

  Note From the Publisher

  Married to My Stepbrother

  Paul Dirkwood was the guy Liza shouldn’t find attractive, but did. They were involved when they were teens, and she never thought she’d see him again. Now their parents are getting married? To say that she’s shocked is an understatement. During the wedding in Vegas, she gets a little too drunk and doesn’t entirely remember everything that happened…but she wakes in his arms.

  Wearing a ring.

  Although Paul hadn’t seen Liza for years, something about her tripped his trigger from the second he’d spotted her again. He’s not sure if his feelings for her are proof of a connection or just the taboo nature of their relationship. He didn’t plan on getting married. Can he convince her they can make it work, or will their wedding in Vegas stay in Vegas?

  1

  Paul Dirkwood saw her and fought an instant rush of desire. Of course, Liza Walters probably inspired a lot of erections during her day-to-day life. She had this rounded ass that just begged for a man to grip those curves as he spread her legs and tasted the flesh hidden in between.

  Not to mention those breasts—all heavy and swinging with her every movement. But his favorite of her many tempting physical traits were her innocent eyes. He knew for a fact that she could look just as sweet and untouched while she had his cock in her ripe lips.

  Yeah, in his case, the immediate shard of lust came from recognition. Years ago, their parents dated. He was only seventeen at the time—not yet even familiar with the word taboo, not to mention the decadent thrill that came with being kinky—and exploring his feelings for Liza seemed natural. They were thrown together, told to “go find something to do” while their parents were together, and they became friends.

  Likely, neither of their parents expected that relationship would become anything but platonic. Arguably, neither had he and Liza at the time. When it did go over the edge, however, it went fast and furious. They’d not actually done “the deed,” but the involvement with Liza back then changed—or awakened?—some of Paul’s more deviant tendencies.

  When he spotted her across the crowded ballroom in Vegas, he knew he wanted to renew their friendship. Preferably including the more intriguing parts. Cutting through the people separating them, Paul caught her gaze before he managed to get to her side, and her amber eyes sent his pulse pumping.

  She recognized him.

  It seemed important, somehow, that she knew him on sight. Time and circumstance might have separated them, but he’d never forgotten her. Or how he’d felt about her. When their parents split up, they’d tried to keep in touch, but neither parent wanted the contact to continue. Apparently, it was salt on their wounds or something, according to his dad. After a while, it had been easier to go with the flow to avoid upsetting his dad by calling Liza.

  Then too much time had passed for him to contact her without looking like a fool. Now, so many years later, he was glad to find her. To see her again. To hope that maybe he’d meant as much to her as she had to him. Before he could reach her side, though, his father appeared at his elbow, tugging him toward the stage on one end of the long room. “It’s time for the toast,” his dad said. “The ceremony is in one hour. Can you believe it?”

  Right then, Paul didn’t care about the toast or the quickie wedding. He didn’t care about anything beyond meeting with Liza again. But she was making her way the same direction as him, so he figured he’d do the toast thing, then get to talk to her. Their gazes remained locked, and silently he begged her to stay. To wait for him to stand by his father’s side while Dad announced his wedding.

  Paul didn’t know why there was so much secrecy and surprise involved with this whole event, anyway. His father had contacted him with plane tickets, ordering him to fly in for the rush wedding and engagement celebration, but offered no other information. Not that it mattered. His father was a serial husband—getting married and divorced more often than Paul changed the oil on his car. But he’d come—and what a great idea that had been, if it meant he’d get to see Liza again.

  She was also stepping up on the stage, joining her mother. He recognized the older woman and was surprised to see her there. What a reunion, all of them in one place again.

  When the toast happened, he again took in Liza’s face, reading her expression to be one of sadness rather than anything else. Why was she sad? Instantly, under a surge of possessiveness, he battled an urge to make it better. To take care of her and give her only pleasure rather than any dark emotion like sadness or pain.

  His father slung an arm around Liza’s mom’s waist and was speaking, but the words were blurring in Paul’s brain. No…it couldn’t be.

  But yes, they were kissing and he stared slack jawed at Liza, who’d finally made it to his side. “Hey, so I guess you’re going to be my older brother now?”

  Her voice was whiskey-drenched temptation, and he swallowed hard. “No,” he said simply. “Not just no, hell no.”

  She looked away from him, considering their parents. “Are you buying the shots or should I?”

  Liza followed him to the bar, loving the way his dress slacks hugged his gorgeous ass. Damn, if young Paul Dirkwood had been irresistible, the man version was sin walking. It was impossible to be near him, though, and not remember their twisted and rebellious past. Sure, they’d become friends…which was perfectly acceptable under the circumstances.

  Actually, he’d been her best friend. The one she told her secrets to, shared her dreams with, and laughed alongside. But he’d also been an attractive older guy. How had one year in age difference seemed like such a big deal back then? It was the past, and it was better to pretend none of it had ever happened. Even if he had been the one to soothe her many nightmares and hold her hand when no one else really made her feel special.

  Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard. It wasn’t easy to pretend the past hadn’t happened when being with him had been her first sexual experience, even if they hadn’t ever gone all the way—and best, to be honest, even without penetration. Partly, she was sure, becaus
e it was so forbidden. He was the son of her mom’s boyfriend, therefore practically family.

  But practically family and actually family were two very different things. Hell, she still remembered the family trip when they’d been in the very back of a minivan…

  She glanced at him as he held up two fingers and ordered them drinks at the bar. Likely, he wouldn’t remember that particular trip.

  But she did. Their parents had been in the front of the car, focused on each other and singing along to old music they both enjoyed, and she’d laid her head in Paul’s lap. She knew the adults would assume she was napping, thinking nothing of it since the two of them flopped together more often than not. Under her head, she’d felt his cock harden, and they’d stared at each other for the longest, most weighted moments of her adolescent life.

  It took a lot of bravery to reach one hand up and stroke it through his still slightly damp swim trunks, but it was worth it. His breath sucked in between his teeth and he’d caught her hair roughly in his fingers.

  Paul was never rough with her, not normally, but she got his meaning. He wanted her to stop, because it wasn’t the time or the place, but she also saw the need in his eyes. Licking her lips, she hadn’t removed her hand from over his hardened dick…and he hadn’t removed it, either.

  After a few tense seconds, his gaze shifted, considering their parents carefully. She waited until his features had again settled into calmness, then sighed a little when he’d adjusted himself to recline a bit more in the seat, allowing her better access. His fingertips stroked her hair gently before he reached to adjust the towel she’d used as a blanket.

  If their parents glanced back, she no doubt looked covered, tucked under the towel, but he’d lifted the edge that faced the seat. She was only wearing a bikini, their beach day too warm and beautiful for her to bother to put on more clothes before they’d piled into the car. When his wandering hand stroked her breast, she’d gasped.

  Their parents never stopped singing from the front seat, and she became braver. Freeing his cock from the shorts, she stroked it slowly while watching him try to control his expression and breathing. When her mouth touched the end of his thick length, he’d glanced at her with something like desperation on his face.

  His middle finger had found its way into her bikini bottom, thrumming against her clit roughly. To keep herself from moaning at the pleasure he was causing, she sucked his cock deep into her mouth. The jerk of his hips nearly unseated her and she’d stopped, looking at him for long moments while he worked to control his reaction.

  When he’d gotten off with a moan, she licked him clean while his dad asked if he was okay. The squeak of Paul’s voice as he tried to explain that his leg had fallen asleep made her want to giggle.

  It had been like that with them—risqué, romantic, wildly sensual but with overtones of their friendship throughout it all. Losing him—losing that connection—was one of her greatest regrets.

  Throwing back the shot he handed her, she met his familiar gaze again.

  His eyes were knowing, like he suspected she was also lost in memories of them together and she swallowed the hard liquor with a sigh. “We have less than an hour until the ceremony.”

  He shook his head. “This is so fucked up,” he said.

  She nodded, but she couldn’t resist reaching forward to tuck one of the locks of his ever-untamed hair from his brow. “I know.”

  His hand gripped her wrist, surprising her as he dragged her closer. When their bodies were flush, he whispered so softly that no one around them could’ve possibly heard him, “If you think anything they do changes what is between us, you’re fooling yourself, my pretty little Liza.”

  Blinking up at him, she licked her lips. It seemed Paul had grown up a bit since when they’d last met. “What, big brother? What could possibly be between us at this point?”

  He dragged her hand lower, using her palm to cup the thick ridge between his legs. “This will always be between us. And so much more. You’re not going to pretend you don’t feel it, are you?”

  Gripping his cock, she tried to fake a confidence she didn’t feel. “This little thing? I can feel it, all right.” But in her head, she was torn between the rush of lust and panic. People could see her standing there touching him in such a private place. On the one hand, anyone could spot them, and if it was one of her mother’s friends…they’d know she was touching her soon to be brother in a way that was far from sisterly. On the other hand, he knew it was one of her things—she’d always liked the risk of being caught.

  Even before she’d gotten old enough to realize just how twisted her tastes were.

  He leaned closer to her, stroking her cheek gently before running his fingertips over the shell of her ear. “If you honestly thought it was so little, why are you still holding me so very tight, little sister?”

  Releasing him abruptly, she moved to the bar. “I’m going to need more shots to get through this day.”

  “Same,” he replied, but his hand was stroking her ass as he said it.

  2

  Paul woke up curled around a woman, which was an oddity unto itself. He never took his lovers to bed with him, but in this case, he only had vague memories of the night before. The rush of skin on skin, the moans of his lover…and he’d pretended it was Liza.

  Which wasn’t unusual. More often than not, he imagined it was her when he plunged into a woman’s willing body. Something about her always stayed with him—as if they were connected, even though he didn’t even know if he’d ever see her again.

  His head throbbed, the very light piercing his eyes. Burrowing deeper into the woman’s soft hair, he decided there was a certain charm to waking with a lover. She was so soft, so warm, and her ass cheeks cupped his cock in such a pleasant way. If it weren’t for the hangover, he’d probably roll her onto her back and see if he could make less blurry memories he could keep for a while.

  She smelled sweet, some musky blend of woman and sensuality which tickled his memory a bit. Hell, that was probably why he’d drunkenly imagined her to be Liza. She even smelled like the other woman did when she was a girl. As he fondled her breast, his partner released a soft moan, rubbing that rounded ass back against him and making him think maybe he could perform, hangover or not.

  “Paul?” The whiskey-drenched whisper had him freezing, stunned. He hadn’t imagined Liza after all, the woman in his arms was his Liza.

  As she rolled to face him, her hand reached up to stroke his face, and he captured her wrist.

  The gold band around her ring finger glinted up at him like a curse.

  “Fuck,” he whispered. “What did we do?”

  She shook her head slightly, looking a bit bleary. Then again, if he remembered correctly, she’d been drinking as heavily as he had after the wedding ceremony that made them officially siblings. But that part after…the other ceremony…

  “Did we get married?” he asked her.

  The words froze Liza, and she furrowed her brows as if trying to remember. “I think I’m still drunk,” she mumbled. “But, no, we couldn’t have. We went to our parent’s ceremony, then we…” She drifted off, apparently noticing her finger. “I couldn’t have married my newly minted stepbrother.”

  He caught her fingers, considering the ring. “I remember saying I wanted to keep you and that our parents weren’t going to keep us apart.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, rubbing her face with her free hand. “I remember going back to the chapel. I think we were going to talk them out of it? Which was crazy, because they were already married…”

  “And there was some confusion about why we were there.” He remembered laughing, saying that they could show them. “We got married, Liza.”

  She shook her head, sitting up abruptly then groaning and holding her hands over her ears. “My head is throbbing. Stop talking.”

  Rolling his legs off the bed, he buried his face in his hands. He’d done it. He’d married Liza. But was the wedding even lega
l? It wasn’t like they were sober enough to make legal decisions. They didn’t have a license…did they need a license in Vegas?

  None of that mattered at the second, though. A surge of protectiveness rose in his throat like bile. This was Liza, his Liza, and the least he could do was take care of her. Hell, if she felt half as wretched as he did, she would need some pain reliever and water. Dehydration caused the worst part of a hangover, if he remembered correctly. That and the fact the fermentation process in his blood stream lowered blood sugar levels.

  Forcing himself onto his feet, he placed an order with room service before going to the bathroom. Once he’d found medicine and snagged a bottle of water, he returned to Liza’s side.

  She was still seated in the middle of the bed. The sheet was pulled tightly to her chest, but it wasn’t like it hid much. The smooth slope of her back was enough to make his dick twitch, hungover or not. Flashes of memories from the night before twined with his old memories of her, reminding him of the way she looked with his cock in her mouth, with her legs spread above her head while he thrust into her, with her face upturned in the rain.

  Liza was in all his best memories, and it seemed they’d added to the list—whether he remembered it exactly or not.

  “Here, take these,” he offered, passing her the pills. She accepted them with a grateful look before also taking the water bottle he’d opened for her. “We probably have a few minutes before the food gets here, so—”

  “I’m not hungry,” she grumbled. “I’m married, and whatever you ordered, it isn’t going to fix that.”