Stepbrother Charming

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Stepbrother Charming Page 7

by Nicole Snow


  “Get on the bed. I need to be inside you right the fuck now, woman.”

  Next thing I know, there's a sharp squeal of springs. The slut gasps as he eases inside her, picking up steam. His thrusts come faster than I expected.

  They don't have slow, loving sex. I wonder if that's even possible with a man like Ty. No, this is straight up fucking, using her to jack himself off and empty the tension in his body the same way a starving man devours a meal.

  It's sick. It's emotionless. And for some lunatic reason, it's totally hot. I'm out of fucking control – even worse than the woman who sounds like she's got a pillow stuffed in her mouth as his hips pound hers into the mattress.

  Thud-thud-thud.

  It's the sound of the bed clattering and my own ruined heart. I hate him. I want him. I don't know whether to bang on the wall and tell him what an asshole he is, or just stand here and keep touching myself while he brings her off again.

  Obviously, I make the easy choice.

  Her gurgling, cooing mess reaches a sticky crescendo and the bed jerks harder. “Give it up for me, goddamn it. You better clench hard on this dick if you want me to come with you.”

  I can't believe his bed is any crappier than mine. But it sounds like a freaking antique with springs that have never been oiled as he pounds her ruthlessly, throws her into orgasm.

  My fingers stroking desperately at my clit go wild. Leaning on the wall, I bring my free wrist up to my mouth and bite it, all I can do to save myself from the biggest embarrassment ever.

  She's coming for the second time. Then I hear Prince Asshole roar, bury himself deep inside her, and growl like some feral creature. His bed screams so loudly with the sound of him fucking and coming, I swear it's shaking the entire house.

  I bite my wrist hard, fall to my knees, and suffer the strongest orgasm of my life. Whimpering, screaming, and barely breathing, I come with them. I give into the fucked up degeneracy Ty's unlocked, obliterating my own ego for more than a minute as my body writhes, quakes, and sweats through the spasms.

  My pussy's still throbbing when it's all over. I can't move until I hear the bed in the other room squeal one more time, probably from him flopping down next to her to rest.

  When I can finally stand up, my own hot teeth marks are branded in my arm. Christ.

  I'm probably going to need to wear long sleeves when I go to work tomorrow. Ty's talking softly to his sweetheart for the night. Meaningless small talk. I can't possibly believe she means anything to him.

  She's – what did he call it? – pussy that's a dime a dozen? Just like me. Supposedly.

  My stomach lurches when I come off the high. I've got to suppress the urge to vomit. I'll just die if I need to step out of my room and cross the small space in the hall to my private bathroom.

  Why the hell can't it be built right into the room like a master bath?

  I can't let him know I'm awake. Hell, both of them. If I get a good look at the fuck buddy who's been eating out of his hand tonight, I'll either cry or scratch her eyes out. Then I'll wind up getting carried out of this house, kicking and screaming, and probably create a media scandal so bad the billionaire has me thrown into the nearest mental institution for life.

  The urge to throw up passes, and I manage to crawl back into bed without making too much noise. Still can't tell if the walls are paper thin down here, or if Ty was just fucking her so hard I heard nearly everything.

  I lay there, and roll over, trying to stifle the noises and go to sleep. It's quiet – but not for long.

  About two seconds after I close my eyes, the bed squeaks again in the distance. Ty's rough voice filters through the wall, but I can't quite make out what he's saying being further away. It's probably something crude, some dark threat telling her all the despicable ways he's going to toy with her body tonight.

  The low creak and pillow talk sharpens. He's fucking her again, grunting and cursing, pounding her so hard the headboard's slapping the wall.

  Fuck. I'm never going to sleep tonight. If I'm lucky, I'll get up in time to clear my bloodshot eyes and wash the stink of sex and shame and desire off my skin.

  His fuck-fest next door is completely indifferent to my suffering. There's nothing left to do tonight except reach for the nearest pillow and cover my head, drowning out the lewd noises behind the wall as much as I can.

  “Rise and shine, honey!” There's a knock at the door, and my mother's voice sounding way more...motherly than I've heard her for years. It's how she used to wake me up before spending half the year in DC.

  Stumbling to the door, I straighten my clothes, hoping like hell Mom can't smell last night's sweat and lust steaming off me when I yank the door open.

  “Claire! You haven't showered yet?” She cocks her head.

  “Still getting used to the house, my new room here,” I say with a smile. “It took me a long time to fall asleep. Thanks for the wakeup call!”

  Mom rolls her eyes and pushes past me, giving the first-day-on-the-job outfit I've laid out a long look. She gives me an approving nod while I reach for my phone, then I hear her walking ahead of me into the bathroom, laying out the towels and things.

  “Mom, I'm a big girl. I don't need you setting me up like this.”

  She turns around and barely lets me squeeze past her into the bathroom. “I'm just being helpful. I don't want you turning out like the boy who shares this basement. I saw him come in late last night, and that thing he brought home.”

  She twists her nose. My eyes go wide and I try not to laugh. “Wait, you saw her?”

  “At the breakfast bar this morning. The little tramp was eating my yogurt in nothing but yoga pants and a tank top.” She shakes her head, and I cough. “Ty left with her early. It's a good thing too – I'd hate to have seen Gary's reaction to his son's latest antics.”

  Gary. I start to open my mouth to ask my mom again if she's really into him, but something stops me.

  Who am I to judge her love – if that's what's really going on here? I don't dare follow Ty's twisted logic and assume the two tied the knot for pure self-interest.

  “I'll be up in a little bit,” I tell her. She gives me a friendly nod and heads upstairs.

  I'm not sure how to feel about being babied like this either. Not gonna lie – after last night, it's kind of nice, seeing how I'm feeling like crap and I'm still a hot, sticky mess after listening to my step-brother and his girl.

  The shower feels good. It's cool, rejuvenating. I scrub the fancy body wash and salts into my skin. For a few glorious seconds, I almost think it'll let me help wash away last night's shameful eavesdropping.

  Upstairs, there's a nice spread of food left by the housekeeper, Joan. I eat a bagel and some fruit, making small talk with Mom. When it's time to go, I grab my keys, my purse, make sure I've got my phone, and then I'm out in the huge garage.

  That's when I'm hit right between the eyes by another surprise. My car is gone.

  I spin around and almost run smack into my mother. “Jesus, Mom, you're never going to believe this.”

  Mom gently pushes me back outside and follows me, setting a hand on my shoulder. “What? That you've got a hot new ride to go with the job?”

  No fucking way.

  The shiny new hybrid sedan sitting in the space where my beater was parked is worlds away from anything I expected to drive in the next five or ten years. My knees don't want to work as I walk up to it and get a good look.

  It's the sexy, polished kinda vehicle you'd expect a billionaire's daughter to drive. Bitter shock forms a lump in my throat. I think I'm going to be sick, keel over and hit the floor, if my goddamned heart won't stop racing.

  “Well? Do you like it, Claire?” Mom's right behind me, whispering excitedly in my ear. “Gary sends his compliments.”

  I spin around and we lock eyes. Her smile melts a little when she sees the crazed expression no doubt plastered to my face. “Gary? This was him? You...you shouldn't have done this.”

  “Nonsen
se. I thought it was a wonderful idea. If you want people to respect you, dear, you need to go to work in something that says you've already taken a piece out of this world.” She holds up a small Washington keychain with a couple keys and a remote attached. “Here's the keys. Catch!”

  My hand darts out just in time to keep it from slamming on the hard cement. I'm still standing there in my best business blouse and pants, acting like an indecisive moron.

  “Claire?”

  “Mom, it's just...it's so fucking weird.”

  She gives me a stern look. “Language. You'd better watch that before you get to the office. Now, honey, we both meant to surprise you. That's part of the fun. But if it's going to interfere with your performance, I can drive you myself...”

  “No. I'll take it. I just don't like the idea of owing this guy you married anything.”

  Mom belts out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, Claire. He's not buying your loyalty. He's not buying anything except a better future for his new daughter. Baby, this is pocket change for him, no different than you or I buying a bottle of nice wine. He's done you a favor. Don't worry that it took a lot out of us or anything like that. If we can easily build a better life for ourselves, our whole family, why shouldn't we?”

  I don't have a good answer.

  That's it, then. This is the new normal. Staring me in the face with its shiny coat of paint and souped-up leather interior.

  “Mom...” I don't even know what to say except the obvious. “Thanks.”

  “You're welcome, honey!” she leans in, giving me a tight squeeze. “Gary will be home tonight. You can thank him later. I want you to stop worrying or feeling guilty about this, baby. You drive down there and blow them all away. If you start to impress them today, you'll own anything you want tomorrow.”

  Wow. I haven't seen Mom in full “inspire me” campaign mode since her last re-election, but today, she's beaming. Full of wisdom I'd brush off as rhetoric if there were anyone here besides me she were trying to impress.

  We exchange one more smile and then I'm in the unfamiliar car, backing down the driveway. The newness smells so amazing. It's clean, pure, a good match for everything else in this strange new life. Everything except the asshole I can't stop thinking about.

  I crank the car's satellite radio high as soon as I'm past the guard shack. The station plays some of my favorite rock songs, a welcome distraction that helps keep Ty out of my brain on the forty minute drive to the Cascades Now! headquarters.

  It's near Arlington, a little ways north of Everett and Seattle, south of Bellingham. It's nice not having to fight the city traffic driving up from our old place in Tacoma. Yet another reason to love the new house, as weird as it is.

  The office doesn't look like anything special. It's simple, small, about what I'd expect for an environmental lobby. I step out of the car and fumble with the remote, making sure the new car's locked.

  Maybe Mom is right. Today's mine. This life's mine.

  I don't have to let anyone get in the way – not even some ginormous muscle head who keeps me up fucking with nothing but a wall between us.

  That evening, there's a knock on my cubicle wall. I swing my chair to see a tall, lean guy in a nice gray suit holding several manila folders.

  “First day on the job, and you're already showing us we've been stupid not to hire a girl who knows Congress sooner.” He steps inside my space as I flash him a smile. “I'm Dan. Office manager while my dad's hobnobbing in DC.”

  “Oh, you're Mister Jacobsen's son?” I'd been wondering where the older man who'd interviewed me had gone.

  “Guilty as charged. Listen, Claire, I don't tell every new girl I'm impressed, but I really mean it here.” He opens the folder in his hands and starts flipping through it while he's talking, obviously excited. “I mean, hell, if we can get half these groups on board, we'll double the funding we need to fight the new business center going up on fifteen hundred acres of prime Cascades wilderness.”

  I clear my throat and mumble an apology. Half the business project's financing is from none other than my brand spanking new step-father. Talk about a conflict of interest.

  I don't even know how to approach the subject with my new boss. I'm in no hurry, either, despite the way I know it'll cause a collision sooner or later.

  Dan adjusts his glasses and cocks his head at me. Damn it. I'm a terrible liar, and even worse at covering my tracks.

  “You're not worried because your mother just re-married one of the corporate jackasses we're taking to task, right?” He gives me a knowing wink.

  Fuck. I'm more than a little relieved he's being so nice about it, but I'm not sure my poor heart can handle any more excitement today. There's been plenty of that the last couple days, and I could really use a break.

  “Oh, Mister Jacobsen, I'm sorry. I didn't know whether I should bring it to your attention or just –“

  He holds up a hand. “Please, call me Dan. Claire, you've got nothing to worry about. Have you met your new neighbor, Eddy?”

  I glance over the wall next to me toward his desk. Yes, the portly middle aged guy introduced himself as soon as I sat down. Seems nice enough.

  “I'm sure old Eddy didn't tell you he's Governor Lambert's nephew, right?” I hear my neighbor laughing uncomfortably through the wall.

  My eyes go wide. The former Governor leveled more Washington wilderness than anyone before him thanks to some special contracts with his corporate buddies, as I've learned from my research. My new employer is still reeling from the aftermath, trying to turn back the clock on the mess he created.

  Dan steps close to me and leans in. I get a big whiff of the spicy cologne he's wearing like a second skin. “We keep that on the down low around here. Eddy's one of our best, and he's got nothing to be ashamed of. Just wanted to let you know, Claire. We care about your work, your ethics. Nobody else's. I don't care if your mom married a robber baron, and neither does Pops.”

  I sit up straight, trying not to beam. I've got to hand it to him – he's just lifted about a hundred pounds off my shoulders.

  “I won't disappoint you, Dan. I'm here to learn everything I can from this organization. If that means going toe-to-toe with some family interests...well, I'm game.”

  “Keep it up, and you'll be on our permanent staff before you know it.” He leaves the folder behind for me and starts to head out, giving me one last wink.

  I turn back to my computer, head abuzz with all sorts of things.

  Despite the thick glasses and the even thicker cologne, he's kinda cute in a trim, geeky way. He just doesn't make my heart race like –

  Damn it. There you go again. This isn't healthy, I think, warning my rebellious brain. You've got to stop thinking about him. Pick up some earplugs on the way home.

  I'm totally serious. I'll sleep with plugs in my ears and my phone curled up to me on vibrate rather than hear Ty fucking his latest conquest again.

  I still can't believe how he took her. They were at it for hours, smacking lips and twining flesh, rocking the bed springs so hard I swore they'd break.

  Jesus. I can't stop thinking about him. And yeah, I definitely can't believe my own filthy desperation, the way I was drawn to the wall like a magnet, rubbing myself to bliss while they fucked.

  It's not just that he's crude, arrogant, and he's treated me like trash every time we're together. He's totally off limits. There's something horribly addictive about it that warms my blood.

  If I can't control the heat surging through my veins every time I think about Ty Sterner, then I need to make sure I never, ever act on it.

  One kiss almost unraveled everything. And if there's a second kiss, or – God forbid – we go further, I'll never live it down. I'll ruin myself and this whole screwed up family.

  No man's worth my reputation, I keep telling myself. Not even one who looks like a Prince and talks like a convict. Especially not a man with a brutal knack for invading my every waking second.

  Later, at home, I eat a q
uick dinner with Mom and Gary. They ask me all about my internship.

  Gary doesn't even mention the new car until I do, and then he brushes it off like it's nothing. I know he's a billionaire, but my brain has a hard time reconciling my strange new reality.

  We talk about my job, Alaska, the times the Vice President made a drunken ass out of himself at the private parties Mom attended in DC. Anything light and positive, really.

  Everything except Ty, who's conspicuously absent.

  I'm digging at the last of my garlic potatoes when I get the stupid idea to ask about him. “So, uh, where's big brother?”

  Mom freezes up and Gary's laughter over the VP's secret antics goes dead silent. His lips pull tight in what resembles the world's most uncomfortable smile.

  “Forgive me. I'm afraid my son hasn't given up wasting his days on practice for those barbaric fights he loves. I doubt we'll see him until tomorrow.”

  Gary's obviously had a lot of practice making excuses for Ty. All the zen-like cool in the world doesn't keep me from noticing how hard he stabs his fork into his next bite of steak.

  Mom saves the day by going back to DC, telling us all how grateful she is to be taking some time away from that God forsaken place. I laugh along with my parents, but I'm not sure whether to believe her.

  She never talks about her campaigns until they're imminent. For all I know, I'll be wearing a pretty dress and taking time off next year to stump for her Senate seat.

  Ugh.

  It's a joy when Joan comes in to clear away the plates and serve coffee. I take mine downstairs in a big mug, asking for decaf. I've got to be careful to allow myself more time tomorrow morning, before I'm due back at the office.

  By eight o'clock, I've taken my shower, and there's no sign of Ty. I cuddle up in bed with a book, more tired than I realize. I slip into a sleep that doesn't break until my phone wakes me up at dawn.

  I'm almost dressed and ready for breakfast when there's a knock on my door. I walk over and jerk it open. Standing in front of me is the Asshole-in-Chief. Shirtless, ripped, and heavily inked. The snarling tiger on his chest matches his expression.

 

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