by Mia Ford
“We weren’t finished yet,” Jackson repeated in a low voice that sent shivers down my spine.
Then I remembered: I’m supposed to hate him.
“I hate you,” I murmured softly. But my blood was still racing through my body, my heart was still pounding, and maddeningly enough, my pussy was tingling with excitement and arousal inside my damp panties. I wanted Jackson to take me in his arms again, to kiss me, to thrill me with his touch.
Jackson smirked. “Yeah, I bet you do,” he said softly.
My heart was pounding in my chest.
“I can help you, Belle,” Jackson said. He stepped closer and looked down into my eyes. I shivered again. “I can give you what you want.”
I shivered. There was something about the way he was staring at me that was making me deeply, deeply uncomfortable.
“What is it?”
“I can help you,” Jackson repeated. He raised his eyebrows and glanced down at my body once again. When I shivered this time, it wasn’t because of the temperature outside.
“How?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
Jackson leaned close to my ear. “I’ll give Anne three million dollars, and a monthly allowance.”
I stared at him. “Jackson, that’s more than I’m asking for,” I said slowly. “Why are you going to give her so much money?”
Jackson’s lips curled into a smile. “Because you’re going to give me your virginity.”
I gaped at him. My mouth was hanging open for so long I felt the delicate tissue lining my tongue start to dry out from the cold air.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson asked. “Cat got your tongue?”
I closed my lips and swallowed hard. My throat felt tight and dry, and for a terrible moment, I was afraid I was going to throw up the half mimosa I’d drank back at Le Bateau Ivre.
“I can’t date you,” I hissed after a prolonged pause. “I’m your stepsister!”
Jackson threw his head back and laughed. I saw the sun glinting off his perfect white teeth.
“I don’t want to date you,” Jackson said, shaking his head. He was still chuckling. I felt my hands ball themselves into fists. “Of course I don’t want to date you, Belle. I just want to fuck you,” he added.
I glared at him. “I hate you.”
Jackson smirked. “That’s not what I thought a few minutes ago.” He tapped his chin with his finger and looked thoughtful. “You were moaning in my arms,” he said. “That didn’t exactly seem like the reaction of someone who hates me as much as you claim to.”
The sound of the slap across Jackson’s face echoed off the alley walls as I turned on my heel and ran away. This time, he didn’t try chasing me. The only sound I heard was the ringing sound of his laughter, bubbling around me.
It wasn’t like his cruel laughter before. It was a different kind of laughter, an amused kind of laughter.
As I climbed into the backseat of a cab and gave the driver my address, I slunk down in the back seat and vowed to never speak to Jackson Rhodes ever again.
When I got back to school the next day, I didn’t know what to do. I hated the idea of giving my cherry to Jackson, the man who’d made my life hell for as long as I could remember. Sure, he’d been a good kisser….in fact, thinking about the way he’d kissed me sent shivers of desire between my legs. But I knew I couldn’t go through with it. It was just like prostitution, except worse. And what would it get me?
It would let you help your mother, a little voice sang in the back of my head. And that’s what you really need to do, isn’t it?
I dreaded talking to Mom. I spent the evening with Alexa, pretending like Jackson didn’t exist. We made popcorn and watched all of our favorite girly movies…it should have been enough to make me forget all about Jackson.
But it didn’t.
When the phone rang, I felt horrified and scared.
“Hello?”
“Belle, honey,” Mom said on the other end. “I was starting to think I wouldn’t ever hear from you.”
I sighed. “I’m okay, Mom,” I said softly.
There was a pause.
“Belle, I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re the best daughter in the world for helping me out like this,” Mom said softly. “I appreciate you and love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky – lucky enough to have a daughter who would do anything for me.”
My heart sank.
“Um, well— “
“No buts, Belle,” Mom said. “I want you to know how much I love you for doing this. I know I never should have had to ask you – I never should’ve had to put you in the position of helping me like this. But you did, and I’m so grateful. I promise that nothing will ever be this bad ever again, honey.”
“Mom, that’s just it. I didn’t— “
“Belle, enough,” Mom said. “I want you to take credit for what you did – you did a great job, and you helped me out so much. I love you, honey. I’m so proud of you.”
I sighed. “Thanks, Mom,” I said in a thin voice. “I just wanted to help.”
When we hung up, I felt worse than ever. I knew I couldn’t go back to relaxing with Alexa and watching my favorite movies. It wouldn’t matter – nothing had mattered now that I hadn’t been able to stand up for myself and tell Mom the truth.
With a heavy heart, I dialled Jackson’s number from the business card he’d given me back in the city.
“Hello?”
“Is this Jackson?”
“Belle? Is that you?”
I sighed. “I’ll do it,” I whispered.
“I can’t hear you,” Jackson said impatiently. “I’m in a bar. Can you speak up?”
“I said,” I hissed loudly. “I’ll do it.”
There was a pause – somehow even worse than it had been when I was on the phone with Mom. What was Jackson going to say? Would he be excited? Thrilled? Condescending?
Or worse – what if Jackson told me that it didn’t matter, that the offer had only been a joke. What if he told me that I was really and truly fucked?
“Good,” Jackson said. “I’m glad you came to your senses, Belle.”
I rolled my eyes. It sounded like he was talking about a business decision.
“Well, I don’t have a choice,” I said pointedly. “You said this was the only way you’d help me.”
“Right,” Jackson replied. “After your finals, I want you to come into New York City. You’ll be spending winter break here, with me.”
A chill ran down my spine. I hated that – I wished that my body would turn off, that I somehow wouldn’t think of Jackson as sexy. But I knew deep down that no matter what he did, I’d always be attracted to him. That was exactly the problem.
“Can’t we just go to a motel or something?” I whined into the phone. “Do I really have to spend the whole break with you?”
Jackson snorted. “Belle, please,” he said.
“Well, I mean, it’s not like you need me more than once.” I winced at the implication of my words.
“You’ve got a lot to learn, Belle,” Jackson said shortly. “I’ll see you after your finals.”
And with that, he hung up.
After I was done with the phone, I locked myself in my room, flopped on my bed, and stared at the ceiling. I didn’t know what to do – I didn’t want anything to do with Jackson, but I knew that I couldn’t back out now. That was probably exactly what he wanted me to do, too.
I closed my eyes, hoping for sleep. But instead of sleep, memories came rushing back tenfold.
I was running through the hall of Mom and Mitchell’s palatial home. That was when I heard the sound – almost like someone stepping into a hot bath and gasping at the temperature of the water. But the bathroom door was open, and I didn’t even think Mom was home. Mitchell had some kind of work event, and Mom usually went with him.
“Mom?” I called softly. “Are you home?”
There was no answer. A chill of fear stabbed at my heart – what if someone
had broken in? Mitchell had a great, very desirable home…and our neighborhood had been rife with robberies and crime for the past few months. What if the robbers had broken in?
I began to sweat with fear. Slowly, I walked down the hall, trying not to make a sound.
That was when I heard the noise again. I swallowed hard – it wasn’t coming from the bathroom at all, but rather one of the spare bedrooms down the hall.
“Hello?” I called shakily. “Don’t try anything,” I added softly. “I’ve got a phone in my hand, and I’m going to call the police!”
I hoped the intruders wouldn’t notice that I was bluffing. After all, I was only seventeen – what could a teenager like me do in the face of a burglary?
My heart was in my throat as I edged down the hall and peered into the room. It was dark, and it took my eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, I gasped, immediately clamping a hand down over my mouth.
Jackson Rhodes, my stepbrother, was inside the room. He wasn’t alone – he was with a girl. I didn’t recognize her, although she looked about my age. They were standing by the window together. Jackson’s arms were around her body and for a moment, I thought they were embracing. Then I heard the sound again. It wasn’t a gasp this time, but more of a soft moan. The girl tilted her head back to face the ceiling. Her lips parted with desire as she moaned softly. I watched as Jackson’s hands slid across her lower belly. When he slipped his fingers down the waistband of her jeans, I felt an unfamiliar tingly feeling in my own belly…like he was touching me, not her.
I stood there, frozen, and watched. Jackson deftly unbuttoned the girl’s jeans and tugged them down her slender hips. She made a small cry of protest but didn’t attempt to move away from him. Her white panties glowed in the dark room, and I thought I could see a wet spot between the crotch of her slim thighs.
“Jackson,” the girl whispered. “Are you sure no one else is home?”
“I’m sure, baby,” Jackson replied in a husky voice that sent a thrill through my whole body. “Damn, girl,” Jackson whispered. He leaned close to the girl’s neck and kissed her earlobe wetly. “You have a great body.”
The girl wriggled and moaned. She shivered in Jackson’s arms. He slid his fingers across her bare belly, making her jump. I covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn’t make a sound. I knew I shouldn’t be watching them, but I couldn’t make my legs work. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was stay and watch.
“I’m gonna stroke your pussy now,” Jackson whispered. His breath was coming in heavy bursts against the girl’s neck. “Baby, can I touch your pussy?”
The girl wriggled against Jackson’s body, giving no response. As he slid his fingers into her white panties, I felt my lower belly kick with arousal. It was like I could feel it both ways – I could practically feel his strong fingers stroking my labia, I could almost feel her silky skin against the tips of my fingers.
The girl moaned as Jackson’s hand disappeared in her panties up to his wrist. I watched his arm flex against her body. She spread her legs wide and her eyes rolled back in her head. In a few seconds, she was grinding her hips and shoving them forward in time with Jackson’s ministrations.
“Oh my god,” the girl moaned softly. “I think I’m gonna come, Jackson!”
“Come for me,” Jackson hissed into her ear. “Come for me, baby. Scream for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The girl moaned again, shoving her hips forward. I could see that her white panties were stained with her arousal. The smell of it hung heavy in the air – musky and intoxicating, almost like jasmine.
I couldn’t help it – I moaned, too. As soon as I realized I’d made a sound, I stumbled backwards into the hallway. The girl cried out in surprise and jumped into the air.
“Oh my god!” She shrieked loudly. “Jackson, someone’s been watching us!”
Mortified, I ran down the hall and locked myself in my room for the rest of the day. I kept waiting for Jackson to break the door down, to burst in and scream at me for being a little pervert. But it never came. Even when Mom and Mitchell got home, Jackson acted completely normally.
But that night, after dinner, Jackson came up behind me in the hall. I could feel his muscular bulk moving through the air, almost like we were connected.
“Belle,” Jackson whispered in my ear. “Did you like that? Did you like what you saw?”
My eyes flew open. My face was drenched in sweat and to my horror, my fingers were inside of my own panties. The smell of my musky pussy had filled the room, and my heart was pounding with a mix of agony and arousal.
I knew then that I wouldn’t be able to resist Jackson, no matter how much I hated him. I’d wanted him for years, and this was my chance.
All I have to do is make it through one night, I promised myself as I drifted back off to sleep. Just one night, and then Mom will be fine. And I never have to see Jackson again.
Finals passed in a blur. When they were finally over, I couldn’t believe that I was already packing my bags for NYC again. It seemed like just yesterday that I’d been there last, slapping Jackson’s face in the street and vowing to never see him again.
Funny how life works, isn’t it?
This time, I wasn’t able to concentrate on a book as the train pulled into New York. My stomach was churning and I shivered every time Jackson’s face flashed in my mind. I wanted to just do this and get it over with – although that didn’t stop me from blushing each time I thought of how it would feel for Jackson to take my virginity.
Would it hurt? I swallowed hard. All of my friends, including Alexa, had told me that losing my cherry was no big deal. But then again, I didn’t exactly feel like a normal girl. I’d always been shy – hell, I’d never even kissed a guy until Jackson had grabbed me the week before. So maybe things would be different for me.
Would Jackson just yank my pants down and fuck me right then and there? Would he take his time with me? Would he bother making sure that I enjoyed myself at all?
These were all questions that I hated thinking about, but I knew I had to figure out soon.
Jackson sent me an email while I was still on the train. It was very curt – it was just an address and a time to be there. I figured it was some kind of hotel.
Instead, it was a grand apartment building, overlooking Central Park. As soon as I walked into the grandiose lobby, I knew I’d made a mistake.
“Hi,” I said to the concierge. “I think I’m staying here? Maybe?”
She stared at me. “And you are?”
“Belle Harrington,” I said quickly. My cheeks flushed. “Sorry – I should’ve said so earlier.”
She nodded, but didn’t reply. I stood there awkwardly listening to the clacking of her fingers on the keys.
“Ah, Belle!”
When I looked up again, she was wearing a warm smile.
“You’re a guest of Mr. Rhodes! Why didn’t you say so?”
I smiled tightly. Because he’s got me over a fucking barrel, I thought. And what? Am I supposed to tell you that technically, we’re related?
The concierge pressed a large brass key into my hand. “You’ll be staying in the penthouse,” she said kindly. “Mr. Rhodes requested nothing but the best.” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you his girlfriend?”
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
She blushed. “Never mind,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked. This way, please!”
It was hard to keep from gawking at the luxurious splendor all around me as the concierge led me from the lobby to the elevator to my room. Everything was splendid – there was more gold and marble together than I’d ever seen in my life. I couldn’t believe that it was real – that I was really there, in such a nice place.
“And here we are,” the concierge said lightly. She pushed open the door. “Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”
I nodded. Stepping into the apartment made me mute. It was the grandest place I’d ever seen. My shoes sank into the plush white carpe
ting and there were floor-to-ceiling windows with a beautiful view of the park. It made me feel small, almost agoraphobic. I stepped hastily back from the windows and looked around the rest of the apartment in similar awe.
It was all beautiful. The couches were upholstered in Italian silk and there was real art on the walls – all too gorgeous for me to even look at for more than a few seconds. The kitchen was stocked with artisanal food and wine, and I gasped when I realized the fridge was stocked with bottles of Dom Perignon.
“Wow,” I whispered softly. “This can’t all be for me. This is too much!”
The bedroom was the best yet. The large, king-sized bed was covered in a duvet of purple silk and the walls were draped with tapestries, also silk. The windows overlooked a beautiful meadow in Central Park, and even the closet was stocked with designer clothing, shoes, and handbags.
I figured that maybe this was Jackson’s apartment that he owned just for the sole purpose of having someplace to bring women.
