Stepbrother Charming

by Nicole Snow

  He's gone before I can do jack shit. The door pops open and slams shut behind him, rattling the heavy glass.

  I've got half a mind to pick up the deck furniture and start throwing it through every hand-crafted window pane lining the back of the house. But fucking up my old man's castle won't really do shit. It'll satisfy my monkey brain and nothing else.

  It won't take back what just happened, it won't fix anything, and it sure as shit won't extinguish the firestorm he just hurled on my head.

  I'm fucked.

  Shit, I'm past wanting the asshole to change his mind. He whipped his dick out and swung it, forever reminding me that I'm a goddamned worm without him and these riches I'm supposed to worship.

  Forget it. Damn it. Fuck it.

  There's nothing left to do except what I came out here for in the first place. I tear my shirt off and drop my pants. Then I run to the pool and dive in buck naked.

  I swim fast, furious, and hard as I can, splashing water all over the place. When my limbs are full of fire and my lungs don't wanna pump anymore, my mind's clear enough to start thinking about all the decisions I should've made years ago.

  Nothing but the swim keeps me from burning myself alive.

  I've got a hundred questions and no good answers. First thing on the list – where the fuck can I go that'll still have waters as clear and crisp as this to clear my head in?

  VII: Everything to Lose (Claire)

  I wake up more rested than I've felt for years. Guess there's something about having the weight of this insane attraction to my step-brother lifted that makes all kinds of things easier.

  And no, after last night, he's not just my cocky, foul mouthed step-brother. He's become my lover.

  He's stopped just short of claiming me the deepest way a man can. More importantly, he stopped when he could've taken me, leashed his desire because he cares.

  Nobody else ever helped me when I'm sick or drunk except a few close friends like Dana.

  Sure, Mom used to do it, but it was always somebody else's job like the housekeeper she hired during her long sessions in DC.

  I wake up feeling like a billion dollars for the first time since I moved into this mansion. All the pieces are in place, and that makes me smile. It doesn't fade when I'm in the shower and freshening up. It's so nice to throw on a t-shirt and shorts after my first week wearing all business attire.

  Breakfast is next on my list, but first I want some fresh air to help feed the cozy afterglow heating up my brain. I head down the hall to the big glass panels leading outside, hoping the morning chill has faded by the pool.

  It's a lovely place to sit and I really haven't enjoyed it enough this summer. Lucky for me, there's still time to enjoy lots of things before the Washington's infamous rainy season creeps in.

  I'm almost to the door when I see someone moving in the pool. One quick glance at the smooth, shapely muscles delving through the water like it's nothing tells me who.

  It's Ty. And he's – holy shit – completely naked.

  My body heats with the same delicious energy running through my veins last night. I was buzzed, pretty fucked up really, but I remember perfectly how amazing he felt. Actually, I'm relieved to find out it wasn't just the alcohol and the close call with the Swede that made everything so intense.

  No, I'm feeling it again. Something's changed.

  I fold my fingers in front of me and clasp them tight, all I can do to relieve the tension building in my muscles.

  Jesus. I didn't think it was possible to want another human being so bad, but I do.

  The thick glass between us muffles sound, but I swear I can hear his lungs chugging, hot and heavy like a grizzly bear running down a rival. He moves the waves aside like he's Moses, plowing through the waters effortlessly.

  Damn, if only Moses had bulging biceps and savage ink on his skin. I'd have paid more attention in church when I was little during Mom's half-hearted, short lived attempts at passing on my grandmother's faith.

  I study him, admiring the raw power and grace in his body. It's hard to believe this is normal for him. He's always out there, always training for the next match, a born fighter who won't hesitate to use all that muscle to protect what's his. And apparently, that now includes me too.

  It makes me giddy.

  Somewhere in the excitement, I notice his face. It's scrunched up in a furious, painful looking way. Fear sparks my heartbeats faster.

  At first, I want to run out and yell, ask him if he's all right. But his laps are steady, and I don't believe he'd stay in the pool if something were really wrong. He certainly wouldn't be circling round and round like a shark.

  No, it's not his body that's hurting. It's something inside him.

  Ty proves me right a second later when he stops, slicks back his messy brown hair, wiping the excess water away. Then he tips his face to the rising sun and screams, fists in the air, bobbing in the water. He's roaring the same way I imagine a man does when he's shipwrecked and knows he's totally adrift, hopelessly severed from civilization.

  Alone.

  I need to help him. I reach for the door, put my hand on the knob, and freeze just before I open it.

  The war cry ripping through the glass is over, and it's quiet again. But something about this new silence scares me.

  I've seen him upset. I've seen him act like a total ass, watched him wreck a man for putting his hands on me. This rage pouring out of him is somewhere else on Ty's anger spectrum, some dark, evil place I can't comprehend.

  No, this is different, and it scares the hell out of me.

  I bite my lip and step back, too afraid to go out there. What will he think if I'm intruding on him like this? It might startle him just when he was opening up, destroy the wonderful thing we had last night when it's barely begun to flourish.

  I'll find out what's going on. Just not until he's out of that pool.

  Scurrying away from the door, I head upstairs and get another surprise. There's no breakfast laid out for me like most mornings. Strange because Joan's been so good about it, and so has my mom. I'm about to head into the kitchen to see if the billionaire might have an emergency Pop-Tart or two when I hear voices.

  They're hushed. Angry. Serious.

  “Are you sure about this, Gary? It's rough out there for a young man. I can't imagine doing this to my Claire.”

  “Damned right. I've made up my mind. The boy's had his hand held too much. He's twenty-three years old, for Christ's sake! Sure, he works hard at that club, but he's never learned to work smart. He's used it as a personal playground with his women, his drinks, and those ugly charity fights. It's an embarrassment. Frankly, I'm surprised we haven't all been shamed by the media spotlight by now. It's a nothing short of a miracle.”

  I stiffen up against the wall. They're talking about Ty, and I've got a sickly feeling it has everything to do with why he's swimming himself ragged and cursing the sky.

  “Gary...I don't know. Maybe he just needs some time away. A different job could do him good, something away from the alcohol and testosterone. I could land him something. Lord knows I've pulled enough strings for Claire, and it won't hurt me to get back into touch with some of the folks I'm going to need on my side for the race next year.”

  My heart sinks like an elevator. God. I don't want to believe that I'm just as privileged as poor Ty and my own work's just as worthless in my mom's eyes, but there it is. It hurts.

  “No,” Gary snaps. “My mind's made up. Your compassion is a virtue, Mandy, and I love it. But mercy isn't going to get him anywhere. He's had his chances. Honestly, I'm surprised you're not more upset. Your daughter came home stinking drunk last night – that's totally out of character, isn't it?”

  “Claire's a young woman,” I can hear my mother shrug. “I trust her. She's got a lot to learn, sure, but she'll work through it the same way I did. Trust me, Gary, there are far bigger mistakes a girl can be making at her age than having a little too much fun at the bar.”

&n
bsp; Fuck. How do they know? Did Joan see Ty bring me in? I can't believe the housekeeper would willingly rat on us, even if she did see something she shouldn't have.

  Some seriously bad stuff went down, and I've got a feeling it has everything to do with Gary making threats. Hell, if he's ready to turn his own son out, why wouldn't he threaten the older woman's livelihood?

  I didn't like the man Mom married before, but this seals the deal. I fucking hate him.

  And he's still droning on about how it's all Ty's fault. Something about how he couldn't get over losing his mother, despite the billionaire's best efforts. He makes himself out to be such a martyr.

  I can't seriously believe Gary ever gave a shit. Not with this tone.

  “It's a good thing our kids are grown. Well, yours is, anyway,” Gary adds, fueling the angry heat simmering in my blood. “I think we'll have to agree to disagree about our parenting styles. Ty's my son, Mandy, and having him out of our hair really is the best thing for everybody. Claire doesn't need his bad influence. Neither does your campaign, and you'd better believe I sure as hell don't. I've put up with it for more than twenty years, and I'm done.”

  That's it then. Exile.

  Christ. How long do I have left with him? He could be gone by the end of the week for all I know. Gary's crazy and cruel enough to do it.

  I can't take it anymore. I walk into the kitchen and rip the huge stainless steel fridge open, making sure Mom's kefir and kombucha bottles clang together.

  Their voices stop. I pretend I'm looking for my breakfast as Mom trots in, concern lining her face.

  “Oh, Claire. I didn't know you were awake. I would've had Joan set something up for you...”

  “I'm good with cereal, Mom. Hey, are we out of milk?” I'm so flustered I don't see it.

  A large hand reaches past me, deep into the second shelf, and pulls out a tall glass bottle. Creamy white and all organic. What else? Everything in this house has to perfect, especially when it's run by the asshole staring at me.

  “Here you go, Claire.” Gary's smile is so fucking fake it makes me want to spit in his face.

  We lock eyes. I can't hide the dark anger undoubtedly swirling in mine, and I'm sure he can see it. He gives me a sharp look, like he's on the verge of chiding me, but then he purses his lips and scurries out between us.

  “Sorry, everyone, I should've left for Seattle half an hour ago. I'm going to be exceptionally late if I don't get out the door now.”

  Mom takes a long step after him like he's forgotten something. Probably her kiss goodbye. Gary keeps going, and doesn't look back before he's out the door.

  I feel bad for her. But I'm not sorry I missed seeing their gross morning kiss under these circumstances. She turns back to me, brushing away the worry pulling at her features with a big, politically correct smile. Diplomacy's in her blood.

  “You'd better rest up today, honey. I'm surprised you were out so late after losing your first Saturday to overtime.”

  I shrug and bite my tongue as cereal crashes into my bowl, followed by a generous splash of milk. I've got to admit, the food in this household isn't bad, even if it's as guarded and selectively picked as everything else here.

  “There's got to be some time for fun in the career world, right?”

  My mom belts out an anxious laugh, and then quickly catches herself. “Oh, of course! Don't let work consume you, Claire. Seriously. It's okay to let loose a little.”

  She gives me a stern look. I give her nothing more than a shallow nod. I still can't believe the utter shit I overheard.

  I'm not in the mood for taking any motherly advice. Not today. Sure, she offered a little resistance to Gary, but nothing that would put teeth into him for screwing over Ty.

  Why do the assholes always have to get away with it? Why?

  Funny, I realize I used to think of Ty as Prince Asshole less than twenty-four hours ago. But I guess I've been wrong all along. There's more of Prince Charming than I thought in him, and I've been overlooking King Dick the entire time.

  Mom mutters a few more bits of small talk my way. I mostly shrug and don't respond.

  She finally gets the message and heads somewhere else. I eat my breakfast slowly, nursing my stomach after the rough night.

  It's a miracle my body didn't collapse after the drunken bender. Not to mention what went down in his car later that night.

  God damn it.

  Just thinking about it makes me tingle. I remember how hard his hands squeezed my ass, how he pushed his face between my legs with such reckless abandon. We were so close to going all the way too, if only my exhaustion hadn't ruined it.

  His mouth was amazing. How incredible would his dick feel inside me? Would he fuck me hard and fast, or would he fill my pussy with deep, long strokes?

  My legs shift uncomfortably under the breakfast bar just thinking about it. I have to help my cereal down with some jasmine tea I quickly brewed up on the Keurig. Thinking about sex with Ty scorches me, robs the air from my lungs without him even being in the same room.

  I don't know very much about sex, eager student that I am, but I know it's got to be rare for a man to live up to his wild reputation.

  So fucking rare.

  And the idea that I might never feel how good those lips feel on mine, much less anywhere else, ever again really pissed me off. I can't let this crap with his dad get in the way of us.

  I wrap up my breakfast and set my dishes in the sink, then take a long walk through the mansion before heading downstairs. I should go shopping or something to lighten the load on my mind, but I can't, knowing he's here.

  I head down to my room and read for a while, keeping my ears perked up for any movement in the basement. I'm deep into this article for work about grizzly bear restoration in the Cascades when Ty's door swings open and slams shut. I hear him stirring through the wall, making quick, angry movements.

  It's hard to believe he can move after taking so many vicious laps in the pool.

  It takes me a minute to gather my courage. I get up and step outside, slowly closing my door behind me so he can't hear. I hesitate when I walk the few steps to his door and hold my hand over it, ready to knock.

  Too slow.

  Before I can make a single tap, Ty rips the door open with a woosh. It's so sudden and rough I jump, holding one hand over my chest like a startled old granny.

  Ty snorts with amusement. “What the hell do you want?”

  “Can I come in?”

  He nods, steps aside, and slams the door behind me. I walk deeper into his room for the first time, trying not to lose my mind. His scent is everywhere, masculine and sexy and overwhelming.

  Crap. It takes me a second to remember I'm actually here to talk to him.

  “Hey, I heard some things this morning,” I say softly, meeting his furious eyes. “I saw you swimming when I got up. You were so angry. I didn't understand why until I went upstairs and heard our parents talking. Gary's got it in for you bad, he's –“

  Ty holds a hand up and storms past me, crashing his butt down on the bed. “I don't wanna talk about that fucking jackass. I know what's he got planned. It's no loss. The swim helped me make up my mind.”

  Why the hell is he so hard to talk to? I'm getting frustrated, mostly at myself for being so flustered. I step forward and sit next to him on the bed, gingerly laying a hand on his shoulder.

  “What are you going to do? I'm here for you. Talk to me.”

  He gives me a stark, half-skeptical look. But after a few seconds, his eyes soften. I have to suppress a smile, stunned that I've really worked my way into him. He's going to let me in – right?

  “I'm leaving Washington, Claire. I'm going somewhere I can leave this shit behind and start over. And I mean really, truly start the fuck over. I don't need his billions to make a man outta myself. Just a little coin I've earned in my own damned club, plus my own bare hands.” He pauses, looks at me, and delivers the death blow. “I'm going to Alaska.”

  It
slams into my heart like a knife. Jesus Christ. Alaska.

  It's so foreign. It's the place Mom visits once every so many years when she needs to run off to the wild and escape civilization. Much as I love nature, I've never had the guts to follow her. The stories about thumb-sized mosquitoes and villages with more bears than people are too much.

  “Why Alaska? What's there?”

  He cocks his head when he hears how defensive I sound. But I can see the determination in his eyes, and that hurts even more, knowing there's absolutely nothing I can say or do that'll change his mind.

  “Hard work. Virgin land, babe. Mining. Fishing. Badass motherfuckers who are probably in need of some serious entertainment. But you know, I'm probably not gonna start another club up there – at least not right away. I'm gonna go out to sea, try my hand at fishing. I don't care if the money sucks. I know a thing or two about how to turn a couple bucks into hundreds, and then thousands. I'll clear my damned head for a year by working myself raw, and then I'll figure out the rest. I want the complete fucking opposite of the mold my old man tried to force me through. I'm heading down a different path, and I might as well go all the way. My gut tells me Alaska's the place to find it.”

  He stops. It feels like my lungs are collapsing in on themselves. I'm starting to wonder if last night was a mistake. It's a cataclysm, a riddle I can't figure out, and it's tying my heart in so many knots I'm not sure I'll ever smooth them out.

  I can't regret anything about our night together. If it's all I'll have with him, then I'll cherish it forever. But I can't stand thinking it might be my only taste of this savage, beautiful, tyrannical bastard next to me.

  “You're shaking your head again, babe. What's going through your brain?”

  Guilty as charged. It takes everything I've got to push down the bitter lump forming in my throat, before I spit out the question suffocating me.

  “If you're sure about this, then where do we go from here, Ty? What about us?”

  “Us?” He rolls it around on his tongue. “Babe, we both made a big fucking mistake last night. I think we both realize that, and it's my fault. I shouldn't have sucked your sweet clit on the side road last night. Listen, if I had any clue my old man was gonna go all mad dog this morning, I'd have never done that shit. Hell, I shouldn't have done it anyway, but you looked so fucking good.”