Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Rock Band

by Delilah Devlin

  Hell, did I really know Derek at all? The thought chilled me. I backed away and turned, heading through the maze of cables and props, to the poorly lit back exit. Once outside, I rested my back against the door and took a deep breath. When I saw people turning the corner into the alley, I realized the after-concert rush to the stage door would begin, and I’d be trapped. I pulled up my hoodie and stuck my hands in my pockets. Keeping my head down, I walked to the opposite end of the alleyway. A moment later, I hailed a cab and headed back to the Peabody.

  After showering, I dressed in one of the hotel’s robes and rifled through the little bottles of booze in the suite’s refrigerator. I poured rum over ice and settled into the armchair beside the bed, staring at the rumpled bedding.

  I recalled the first time Derek and I met. At Myrtle Beach. His father and my mom had planned a vacation to bring the kids together. Somewhere not home. Yes, I’d met Christopher Hammond when he’d first begun dating my mom. I’d liked him. He was handsome, tall, his shoulders broad, his body fit. An Army officer stationed at Fort Gordon, Georgia, I was never sure how he and my mom had hooked up. We’d been living in Athens, Georgia. A two-hour distance he’d traveled every free weekend. That weekend, Derek and I had met each other and learned our parents were planning to marry.

  Neither of us had been happy about it. Change was coming. More for me, because my mom and I would have to move. I’d have to start in a new school in Augusta. But Christopher was an organizer. Blending our household furnishings, getting me enrolled in school, had been a smooth process. Blending our families had taken considerably more time.

  From the start, I’d sensed the tension between father and son. Derek wore his hair longer than his dad liked. Hung with a wild crowd. A year older than me, Derek hadn’t liked being dragged down, showing me around the school or introducing me to his friends. After the obligatory introductions, he’d all but ignored me. Until his friends began to notice me.

  My junior year of high school, I’d turned seventeen, finally developed breasts, and begged my mom for contacts. My personal style evolved. I got noticed. When guys began to call to the house for me, big brother smoldered quietly, always around, but hanging back. Like he wanted to say something, but didn’t want to care. Which only spurred me to act more outrageously.

  See, from day one, when I’d seen him in his swim trunks striding from the waves, I’d been love struck. It was silly and cliché, but what could I do? I couldn’t escape him. We shared a house.

  One night when one of his buddies hung around a little too long, waiting for a moment to chat me up, everything came to a head. I invited the blowup. Our parents were attending some unit function at the Army post. The house was ours.

  I led Nathan Hanson out to the picnic bench in the backyard and after some awkward conversation that I don’t remember, I scooted closer on the bench and kissed him.

  Nathan didn’t needed encouragement. His hands were under my shirt, his tongue down my throat inside a minute. Panic rose inside me, but I tamped it down, because I knew Derek was watching. The moment Nathan reached for the snap at the top of my jeans, his body jerked backward.

  Derek flung him to the ground and stood over him, his hands fisting while Nathan backed away and fled.

  The moment the backyard door slammed, Derek ringed my wrist and dragged me into the house, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. He flung me toward the bed, where I landed, clothes askew and panting. He stared for a long moment then reached out and turned off the light.

  I heard the slide of clothing. My heart beat so hard I felt the thump at my temples. But I didn’t say a word. I waited in agony as his footsteps padded on the floor. Suddenly, his mouth was on mine, his fingers digging into my scalp. He came over me, his bare chest hot beneath the palms I raised to hold him off. When I touched him, my fingers curled, my nails digging in. Disappointment struck when I realized he still wore his jeans.

  The clothing between us was more for him than for me, I learned. He pushed me toward the center of the bed and lay on top of me. We were both panting. My breasts ached, and I wanted more, but didn’t know how to ask.

  “This what you wanted, Candy?” he asked. “Some dude balling you?”

  “Not some dude,” I said softly. “You.”

  “Don’t,” he gritted out.

  “You were watching. I only let him because I wanted you to see.”

  “Stop it.”

  He hadn’t moved. His weight on me was the most exciting thing I’d ever experienced. And the ridge held in place by thick denim was the most thrilling part. His mouth was just above mine. My lips were still wet from his kiss. After I felt a tremor pass through him, I dared to lift my head and press my mouth against his.

  His groan was so satisfying that wetness dampened my underwear. But a moment later, he rolled off me and stomped toward the door. When it slammed behind him, I didn’t mind so much. He’d wanted to kiss me. Wanted so much more. And I was a smart girl. For the rest of the school year, I learned how to use all my assets to seduce him, even though it wasn’t until he graduated, and I turned eighteen, before he touched me again.

  I sighed, feeling a little sick to my stomach. I’d always thought we were…inevitable. I downed the rum and set the glass on the nightstand.

  God to be eighteen again! Back then, I had dated, but I’d been careful to keep it just friends. I’d bided my time, waiting for Derek to break again. How I’d goaded him. Taking every opportunity to parade in panties and bra, rubbing my breasts through my shirt and feigning relief, wriggling my ass when I bent to retrieve something from a cabinet or a closet. Making sure he noticed my curves, my beaded nipples.

  Days after he graduated, I knew my chances were dwindling. With his father deployed and my mother at her day job, I stripped, opened my bedroom door then waited for the sound of him striding down the hallway. His gaze cut into my bedroom and held.

  I didn’t breathe. Waiting. As he stared, I caressed a breast and opened my legs.

  He cursed and raised his glance to the ceiling, but then he lowered his head again to stare. I knew I had him the moment he stepped through my door and closed it. He strode to my bed and sat on the edge. “Are we doing this?” he asked.

  “I’m on the pill. Have been for months.” I trailed a fingertip up his arm. “I’d like my first time to be with you.”

  He grunted. “No way am I your first.”

  “Way,” I said and grinned. “It’s always been you. You know that.”

  His features tightening, he’d stood and stripped.

  My gaze ate him up, lingering on the thatch of hair at his groin and his cock, which was slowly filling, rising.

  As he came over me, I shivered and slid my hands around his back. I lifted my knees and my hips, seeking connection with his body. His cock prodded my folds, and I drew a hissing breath between my clenched teeth, so overcome with excitement I couldn’t still my shivers.

  He pushed against me, shredding my hymen, but the pain was delicious, slight—a precursor, I knew, to so much more.

  That first time had been fast. We’d both been desperate to reach completion. Afterward, we’d spent the day nude, exploring each other’s bodies, fucking, kissing, going crazy as we let loose all those pent-up fantasies we’d both been harboring.

  I’d given him my virginity, and that act, that day, had cemented our relationship. As soon as I’d graduated, I’d followed him on the road, despite his father’s concern and my mother’s dismay. There’d been no stopping us, not until my own celebrity rose, and I’d decided I wanted him to see me as more than just his stepsister or bedmate. I wanted to be seen as my own person, capable, successful. Then maybe, he’d see there was a future we could build beyond the spotlights.

  The snick of the door lock interrupted my memories, and I steeled myself. Nothing was resolved. And I was more confused than ever.

  Jimmy entered first, followed by Derek.

  I arched a brow. “Show was great.”

  Der
ek smiled, looking happy. I knew he lived in an agony of self-doubt before every show, and now, he was coasting on a high.

  Jimmy’s expression wasn’t giving me anything. He shrugged. “He invited me.”

  I gave him a nod. I wasn’t exactly disappointed. Maybe there was a little anger lighting a fire in my veins. I pushed up from the chair and took off the robe, draping it over the chair back. Then I dug into my purse for my lipstick, which I used to rim my lips. I grabbed two pillows from the bed and sauntered toward them. I tossed down one, lay the other on top, and knelt in the center.

  My gaze locked with Derek’s for a long moment, before I reached out a hand toward Jimmy. I beckoned him closer and jerked open his belt, his jeans, and shoved his clothing down to mid-thigh.

  His cock was only beginning to fill. I could fix that. I leaned toward him, opened my mouth and sucked every bit of him inside, crowding him into my mouth. Cupping his balls, I began to move backward, forward, back again, sucking him into an erection that had him rocking on his feet. His fingers dug into my hair, but I ignored his direction, let him pull, because I liked the sting, liked his soft curses as I bobbed. When he was fully erect, I leaned back, satisfied to note my lipstick encircled the base of his cock, and paler rings decorated every inch to his tip.

  I turned to Derek.

  His jeans were already shoved downward.

  I wrapped my fingers around his erection and pulled him in front of me. I pushed his dick upward and ducked to tongue his balls, lifted them, and flicked the tip of my tongue against the sensitive skin just behind them, something I knew drove him crazy.

  Derek grabbed my hair and pulled, forcing me back. Then he angled my mouth to take his cock as he pushed forward, past my tongue to the back of my throat. I gagged, but got myself under control, eased open my jaws and let him slide into my throat.

  Jimmy leaned toward Derek, gripped his hair, and kissed him.

  Derek took Jimmy’s cock in his hand and stroked him while he fucked my mouth and throat.

  I groaned around him, so aroused by watching them that I could feel fluid trickle down the inside of one thigh.

  Derek broke the kiss and pushed me back. Both men threw off their clothes. Derek pulled me up, turned me, and slapped my bottom, pushing me toward the bed. I waggled my ass as I took my time climbing onto the mattress.

  Hands clapped both my cheeks. I didn’t know whose. Didn’t care. When a cock slid between my cheeks, I sucked in a deep breath, but it didn’t enter me.

  Derek slipped onto the bed and lay on his back, pulling on his cock. “Fuck it,” he said.

  I liked his blunt language and grinned. Then I eased a knee over him, let him center his cock between my folds, and bounced, working my way downward until our groins met.

  He grabbed my forearms and pulled me against him.

  Bent over him, I bit my lip, waiting as I listened to latex snap, as juicy lube was spread from my asshole down to my filled cunt.

  I braced as the bed dipped behind me and Jimmy came closer. His cock pushed against my asshole, making it tighten, but it glided downward. A finger entered my pussy, sliding atop Derek’s dick, then lifted, widening my opening.

  I gave Derek a startled glance. He arched a brow in challenge, so I didn’t make a sound as Jimmy fit the tip of his cock into the space he’d made and began to cram himself inside me.

  “Gotta relax, darlin’” he said.

  “Easy for you to say,” I gasped. I leaned closer to Derek and tilted my ass upward, hoping to make more room.

  Jimmy poked a thick digit into my asshole, and I cried out, my pussy and ass tightening then relaxing. Slowly he filled me, gliding on top of Derek’s cock in short pushes and pulls, which had me whimpering and Derek cussing, his eyes squeezing tight with pleasure.

  Before long, the pressure eased. My own arousal provided all the lubrication needed for Jimmy to fuck forward and back, rubbing my channel and Derek’s cock.

  “God, Candy, you’re a tight little fuck,” Jimmy growled.

  “Bastard,” I spat, but I was edging higher, a deep shudder rippling down my spine and my channel.

  “It’s always been you,” Jimmy said. “I don’t mind. I love Derek. When he needs me, my dick’s there. What we have isn’t something that needs…constancy.”

  “How can you fucking talk?” I moaned as he quickened his strokes.

  “I fucking love this, baby. Fucking love it. Fuuuck.” His thumb pistoned in my ass and his cock, rammed inside me.

  I could feel the pulses when he came. He pushed inside and held, quivering.

  I sank against Derek, tucking my face into the corner of his neck while Jimmy pulled out.

  Jimmy bent to kiss my shoulder then climbed off the bed. Clothing rustled. The door opened and closed.

  After Derek and I were alone, at last, I lifted my head. Neither of us had come. “What was that about?”

  Derek pushed my hair away from my sweaty cheeks. “Love. Pleasure.” He kissed me, dragging his lips off of mine. “I’m not made to be monogamous, but I can be faithful,” he whispered.

  I understood. We could still be “us”, but I’d have to be willing to share.

  “You chose to leave. That left a hole. Jimmy and I…”

  “I get it.” I really did. Derek needed affection and sex. Needed to blow off nervous energy.

  “Choice is yours, Candy.”

  His voice was so soft, I knew my answer really mattered. That he was scared. I lowered my forehead against his and cupped his cheeks. “Do I have to love him?”

  Derek’s smile was slow. “No, but you have to admit, it’s hot, right?”

  I grinned and lifted my head. “I’m still hot. Gonna do something about that?” I’d think about what he said. But later. I couldn’t imagine not having Derek in my life, but we were two insanely busy people. My choice had placed a burden on him.

  I lifted off his cock and moved to his side.

  As I turned around to present my ass, Derek groaned. “What’s not sore?”

  I laughed. “I’m stretched. I want to actually feel you inside me.”

  “Ass, it is.”

  When he stroked inside me, I let my chest fall against the bed. His strokes began gently, but soon rocked us both. Toward the end, he reached around to slide a finger on my clit. The gentle abrasion was all I needed to shatter into a thousand pieces.

  After my clothing line debuted, I rejoined the band on tour in Denver. My manager liked the fact I was still traveling with the band. So long as I posted selfies wearing my brand, he and our investors were happy.

  Tonight, I wore skin-tight leggings in psychedelic colors, black combat boots, and a coral sports bra topped with a leather jacket that fell to my hips. On the way to the bus, I paused for pictures with fans, Derek’s and mine, holding up my selfie-stick to pout into the camera.

  Derek stood at the top of the stairs, grinning as I sauntered through the crowd. After I climbed up beside him, we kissed accompanied by the roar of the crowd.

  Once the doors shut, he snagged my hand and drew me down the aisle, straight toward his bedroom in the back. I understood his urgency—we’d been separated for three weeks. Three weeks of sexting and long conversations. I gave a wave to Griff and Tiny, who were knocking back bourbon at the dining table. Jimmy sat on a bunk and gave me wink as we approached.

  I pulled free from Derek’s grasp.

  He glanced back, a question in his eyes.

  Three weeks apart had given me a lot of time to think.

  I reached out for Jimmy’s hand and tugged until he stood. Then the three of us continued down the aisle. Inside the cramped quarters we removed each other’s clothing, laughing and kissing everything we bared.

  Once we were nude and cuddling on the bed, Derek leaned on an elbow. “I’ve missed you.”

  I glanced toward Jimmy.

  Jimmy gave me a crooked smile. “He did. When we weren’t jamming or…you know,” he said, waggling his eyebrows, “we were talkin
g about you.”

  “Oh yeah?” I smiled, knowing the guys had plans. Probably sexy plans.

  “When we wind up this tour, we’re thinking about buying some property,” Derek said, his gaze boring into mine.

  “You? Buying a house?” I scoffed. Derek had always been footloose.

  “Yeah, something on a beach. Something far from prying eyes.”

  “And how am I supposed to be the selfie queen living in isolation,” I drawled.

  Derek waggled his eyebrows. “Sea turtles and starfish are cute.”

  “I’m cute,” Jimmy said.

  I laughed. “The scandal! We’ll be a sensation.”

  The men moved, one taking my northern bits, the other going south. I shook my head, trying to clear it to speak before they both robbed me of mind. “Something in the Caribbean. Not far from an airstrip. I still need access to New York.”

  Derek spread my folds and dipped down to tug at my clit with his lips. “I already have someone scouting. Something near the Caymans.”

  Jimmy tweaked my nipple. “We’ll build a studio.”

  “Sounds like you have this all figured out,” I said, beginning to pant because Derek was plunging his fingers inside me.

  Derek raised his head. “Baby, we’ll be happy. We’re in this together.”

  Jimmy flicked my nipple. “And we have a plan to make you fall in love with me, too.”

  Little did they know, I was well on the way. But they’d have to work hard to convince me. Very hard.

  *

  If you enjoyed this story, and would you like to see more Stepbrothers Stepping Out stories, write me to let me know at delilah@delilahdevlin.com!

  About Delilah Devlin

  Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and sexy romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred sixty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Kindle, Kindle Worlds, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.