My Stepbrother's Rules: The Complete Series (Steamy Stepbrother Romance)

by Moore, Lila

  PART TWO

  1

  If my weekend was any indication for what was to come, I was in for quite the adventure.

  I came home from work on Monday to find my apartment flooded. My first big assignment was due on Wednesday and I hadn’t written a word; my stepbrother had warned me away from my big story at the Red Room; and now I had to deal with the disaster that my apartment had turned into. Life was going less than smoothly and if I didn’t get my story finished, I would be out of a job.

  I packed a bag and did the one thing I promised myself I would never do: I moved back home.

  Luckily, my stepbrother had moved out years ago. At least, I wouldn’t have to run into him in the halls. Or so I thought.

  After unpacking, I ran downstairs to the kitchen and right into my stepbrother Alex. He was sitting in the kitchen, laughing with the maid and eating a sandwich.

  “What are you doing here?” I blurted out rudely.

  The maid gave me a dirty look. She’d always loved Alex, but who wouldn’t? Most guys his age were struggling to find a job, or still living at home. Alex was his own man: successful, rich, and handsome.

  As a kid, he was charismatic and well-mannered. He had a way of charming women from a young age. The maids and nannies always doted on him. He was the prince and I was… well, I’ve never been sure how I fit in. Alex was the golden boy; I was treated like the third wheel.

  When I decided to major in journalism in college, I was met with a roll of the eyes and stony silence. It was clear my mother and stepfather disapproved, but weren’t surprised.

  My family worked in the financial sector. They handled shady business deals every day. Growing up with money was always a source of guilt for me. I hated that I led a life of ease thanks to the ill-gotten means of my mother and stepfather.

  When I left home, I left the money behind. I was determined to live completely independent of my family. I even paid for my college myself. It wasn’t easy; I struggled for years to pay off my student loans and if I lost my job at the paper I’d be forced to move back home permanently.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Alex replied.

  Clearly, he was mocking my reaction to seeing him at the BDSM club. I wasn’t amused.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s always nice to know you’re missed,” he said to the maid.

  She laughed and shot me another dirty look.

  “I thought I’d drop by and check in on things.”

  “And now that you’ve checked in…?” I asked.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest. The skin around my wrists was rubbed raw from the restraints Alex had tied me up with. I quickly pulled down my sleeves and put my hands behind my back. The gesture wasn’t lost on Alex. He followed my every move like a predator sizing up its prey.

  “Never!” I said sarcastically. “It’s been amazing seeing you again, but it is getting late. I think it’s time you left.”

  He took a bite of his sandwich. His eyes fell over my bare legs. I’d changed into a baggy sweater and an old pair of boxers for bed. The boxers belonged to an ex of mine. They were a bit big in the waist, but they were comfortable to sleep in.

  “Thank you for the sandwich, Anne Elise,” he said.

  “If you need anything, you just knock on my door, Alexander,” she replied. She smiled warmly at him then left the kitchen.

  “Are those men’s boxers?” he asked.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “I didn’t know you have a boyfriend.”

  He said it casually, but his body stiffened. The muscle in his jaw tensed and flexed as if he was gritting his teeth. I’ve never known Alex to be jealous, but he was acting that way now. I felt strangely emboldened by his jealousy. I strolled up to him and leaned against the table.

  “Does that bother you?” I asked.

  “Why would it bother me?”

  He was acting a bit too indifferent.

  “No, I don’t suppose it would.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I shrugged. Again, his eyes fell on my legs. A heart-shaped bruise was just visible on the edge of my boxers. Alex reached for my leg. For a second, I thought he would caress the bruise, or stick his hand up my shorts.

  Flustered, my face burned hot. But Alex didn’t touch my leg. Instead, he reached for a loose thread hanging from my boxers. He pulled the string. My boxers unraveled, thread by thread.

  “You’re boyfriend’s going to have to buy a new pair of boxers,” he said.

  Alex leaned over and took the thread between his teeth. His mouth was inches away from my pussy. I gripped the edge of the table. My backside started to pulse with the memory of my spanking.

  He tore the loose string with his teeth then leaned back in his seat. The left leg of my boxer was torn, revealing an extra inch of my thigh. The heart-shaped bruise was clearly visible now. Alex stared at it for a moment.

  “You’re not planning on going back to the club, are you?” he asked.

  “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Checking up on me? Making sure I’m behaving myself? I’m an adult. I can go where I want, whenever I want. You don’t get to boss me around.”

  His jaw clenched again. “You’re avoiding my question.”

  “I’m a journalist,” I said without much conviction. “I have a story to write.”

  “That story will not include the goings on of that club. Do you understand me?”

  I scoffed. “Unbelievable. You don’t get to dictate what I report on.”

  “We had an agreement. You’re to follow my rules.”

  “Or else what?”

  “Or else, I’ll punish you.”

  There was a catch in his voice. It took on a gravelly deep tone. I was suddenly wet. I rubbed my thighs together.

  “Sorry, but that’s not going to work. I have a story to write.”

  I turned my back on him and headed for the stairs.

  “Etta,” he called after me.

  I didn’t turn. If I looked into his eyes, I wouldn’t be able to do what I needed to do. I’d soon find myself submitting to his will all over again. Not that I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I’d been obsessively reliving his every touch since our encounter at the club. He’d left an indescribable impression on me which was precisely why I needed to get my story before I considered my future with Alex.

  “Promise you won’t go back,” he said.

  I bit my lip. I’m not a natural born liar. Every time I lie, I’m racked with guilt.

  “I promise,” I said.

  My voice was steady and confident, but the weight of the lie was already twisting my stomach into knots. Before any more could be said, I left the kitchen and went to my room.

  2

  I scanned the line of people waiting outside The Red Room. I checked every face twice. It was silly to expect to see my stepbrother waiting in line. He was wealthy and well-connected. There was no doubt he had his own private entrance.

  Would he be here tonight?

  I was wearing a long, dark auburn wig with bangs and I’d changed my makeup. Normally, I wore mute, neutral colors. Tonight I was sporting smoky eyes and red lips. Hopefully, it was enough to fool him in the poorly lit club. If he was inside, I might escape his notice-as long as he didn’t look too closely.

  I walked up to the front of the line, stumbling once in my stiletto heels. I’ll never get used to wearing heels. I cursed my clumsiness. The guard sized me up with an amused expression.

  “Back for another round?” he asked.

  “Shit. You recognized me.”

  It was the same guard from the night before. I thought my disguise was good, but apparently not.

  The bodyguard shrugged. “I never forget a pretty face.”

  “You’re sweet. Do you think I could get in?”

  “No problem. You’re names on the list.”

  “It
is?”

  No one knew who I was except for my stepbrother. There was no way he’d tell them to let me inside.

  “Word came from the boss. She said to let in the pretty girl in the trench coat if she came back. What is your name?”

  “Natasha,” I lied.

  The guard looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. I could tell he didn’t believe me.

  “Well, Natasha, you’re welcome to come in.”

  “Who’s the boss?” I asked. “I’ve never met her.”

  “Ivy. She likes to wear leather pants and corsets.”

  I remembered the girl we’d met in the hallway of the club. She’d flirted with me then directed us to the empty room.

  “She’s the boss?” I asked with surprise.

  The bodyguard laughed. “Don’t let her catch you questioning her authority. She’ll give you a whipping like you’ve never had before.”

  I smiled at his double meaning. “I won’t.”

  The guard stepped aside. “Good. Enjoy your time inside.”

  3

  I hugged the walls of the club, slowly making my way around. I scanned the faces of all the men. My stepbrother wasn’t among them. I sighed with relief and settled in at the bar.

  “Shirley Temple?” the bartender said.

  “What?”

  “That’s what you ordered last time.”

  “Oh. Yeah, give me another,” I said with a bit of embarrassment.

  “Coming right up.”

  The bartender was cute. He had short blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a boyish grin. Was he involved in the club beyond just tending bar? If I was going to get a story, I was going to have to hook up with another Dom.

  There were some hot guys in the club, though most of them were preoccupied with dates. I wondered if maybe I could ask one of the girls for a private room. Once inside I could try to interview them. I suspected they wouldn’t like this much and I didn’t blame them. They had a job to do; they didn’t want to be ambushed by a reporter.

  The bartender set my Shirley Temple down. I took a sip. He lingered watching me drink. I smiled at him. I’m not good at flirting. I usually wait for the guy to make the first move.

  “You don’t seem like the type of girl to be into this,” he said with a wave of his hand, indicating the room.

  I shrugged. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

  “Yes, they can.”

  He smiled; a mischievous gleam lit up his eyes. “I get off in half an hour. Do you want to get out of here? Get some coffee, or something to eat?”

  I was torn. Under normal circumstance, I would have been thrilled to get asked out by a guy as hot as the bartender, but I had a story to write and he wanted to leave. Apparently, he wasn’t into BDSM. Maybe I could interview him though? I was sure he’d seen enough to give me a good story.

  No. It was no good. I was being selfish. I couldn’t sacrifice my story for a date with a cute guy. It could cost me my job.

  “Maybe we could get a private room in the back?” I offered.

  “Not really my scene.”

  “Oh.” I hated how disappointed I sounded.

  “Maybe some other time,” he said.

  I knew there would never be another time. I sipped from my drink and watched him walk away to fill another drink order.

  “I knew you’d come back.”

  I turned to find the woman I’d encountered the other night. She still wore her corset and leather pants. Tonight her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. Long red extensions were mixed in with her platinum blonde hair. She looked like a video game character.

  “I like your hair,” she said. “The dark red suits you.”

  I took a sip of my drink. She recognized me way too easily; so much for my disguise.

  “Thanks. Your corset looks hot,” I said.

  She laughed. “Thanks.”

  I’d worn a simple black velvet dress with boots. I wished I could afford a new outfit like hers.

  “What’s your name?” I asked. I still wasn’t sure she was the boss.

  “Ivy. You here alone? Where’s your boyfriend?”

  “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”

  I instantly regretted saying this. According to the bodyguard out front, this woman was the boss. If she had something to hide, it was best she didn’t know I was here alone. If I uncovered something newsworthy, she might decide to dispose of me.

  I took another drink and tried to shake away the thought. I was getting ahead of myself. My imagination was running away with me. There was no reason to think I was in immediate danger. Still, a bit of protection couldn’t help.

  “I’m supposed to meet him here,” I lied, “and some other friends.”

  My lie sounded pathetic. A curious smile spread across her face.

  “Well, I hope you find him. In the meantime, would you like to see a private show?”

  I perked up. “Yeah, that would be great.”

  She winked and gestured for me to follow her. I picked up my Shirley Temple and followed her down the long hallway leading to the back. She unlocked a private room and opened the door. Apparently, the rooms locked from the inside. It made sense. You wouldn’t want to be disturbed once a show starts.

  I had the impression a lot of the patrons were wealthy, important people. They probably didn’t want it known they frequented BDSM clubs. Discretion was of the utmost importance.

  There was most definitely a story here, but it would take a lot more digging and I didn’t have the time. It was Tuesday and my editor expected the first draft of my story by Wednesday. I had to get down to business.

  Ivy opened the door. I stepped inside. I expected her to follow me, but she closed the door and left. We were in one of the small theatre rooms. It was identical to the one I sat in with Alex two nights before.

  A couple sat on the couch before the curtained glass wall. Shyly, I sat down beside them. The man was dressed casually in slacks and a polo t-shirt. He looked like a yuppie on vacation. The woman was wearing a white summer dress. They looked like they belonged on a yacht or on the deck of a summer home. It was strange how out of place they were. Suddenly, I felt more comfortable.

  “Is this your first time?” the woman whispered to me.

  “No,” I whispered back. I wasn’t sure why we were keeping our voices low, but I went with it. “I’ve been here before.”

  “This is our fifth time. We’re hooked,” the girl confided.

  I nodded.

  “These alternative lifestyle bars are quite trendy now,” the man explained.

  I furrowed a brow. They were here because they thought it was trendy? Odd; but it could make for an interesting angle in my story.

  “Oh! Here we go,” the man said.

  The curtain pulled back. A blonde girl dressed like a secretary stood before a desk. It was the same as the scene from the other night. I was a bit disappointed. I was hoping for something new.

  Then a door opened and her Dom walked in. Suddenly, I wanted to run. It was Alex.

  I leaned back in my seat and tried to hide in the shadows. A mixture fear and anger twisted inside my stomach. I didn’t want him to see me and have me kicked out of the club, but at the same time I wanted to know what his reaction would be. Would knowing I was watching him with another girl make him feel guilty?

  Alex and I haven’t made any promises to one another. It wasn’t my place to feel territorial and yet, jealousy washed over me.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest and watched as Alex walked up to the girl. He approached her from behind, whispering in her ear. He held something behind his back.

  “He’s hot,” the woman on the couch beside me cooed.

  “He’s not that good-looking,” her date said dismissively. He sounded jealous. I understood the feeling.

  Alex ran his hand over the girl’s body. Her mouth opened as if she was moaning. The sound system was still broken. I cursed the club for not fixing it. What was Alex saying to the girl? What
promises did he whisper to her?

  He slid his hand up her skirt. He took his time caressing the insides of her thighs. It was then he revealed the object he kept hidden behind his back: a black riding crop. It was the same one he’d used on me.

  I stood up with distaste. It felt like a betrayal. I thought our time together was special. Alex was using the same moves on this girl that he’d used on me. The couple’s attention was drawn to me.

  “Sit,” the woman hissed. “The show’s just starting.”

  Alex turned to look at me. We locked eyes. I expected to see surprise, even anger because I’d broken my promise to stay away. Instead, I saw satisfaction. His eyes gleamed mischievously; his mouth was twisted into a smirk.

  “The nerve-that arrogant… ugh!”

  I turned and stormed out of the room, leaving a confused scene behind me.

  I walked out into the club. Bass music pounded dully.

  “Finished already?” Ivy asked.

  She sauntered over me to with an amused grin on her face. Understanding slowly dawned on me.

  “You knew he was in there, didn’t you?”

  She licked her lips. “It was just a bit of fun, that’s all.”

  “Fun? You think this is funny?”

  Her smile faded. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to get between the two of you. He told me-”

  “Wait a minute-he put you up to this?”

  “I thought it was a game the two of you played. A lot of our clients enjoy a cat and mouse style-”

  I turned and walked away. I didn’t want to hear anymore. Alex was trying to make me jealous. Why? It didn’t matter. I was too angry to care.

  Two men stood together drinking and talking. One of them was tall and lean with dark hair and piercing green eyes. I walked straight up to him.

  “Want to get a room?” I asked.

  The man almost choked on his drink. It was clear he wasn’t used to girls being this forward.

  “Um… yeah.”

  A bodyguard stood off to the side. “We need a room,” I said to him.

  Ivy came running up. “I’ll take care of it.”

  She looked the man over as she led us to one of the private rooms. As she unlocked the door, she shot me a knowing look that said: are you sure about this? I ignored her warning stare and pushed my way past her.