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Taking His Rage (Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)

Page 2

by Gwen Allen


  "I wished I could have been there," I tell her as she tells me some more about the rushed wedding.

  "It was just a quick ceremony in Curtis's hospital room performed by the hospital chaplain. And even if it was the most beautiful wedding, I don't think you could have enjoyed it." As she says this, my mom has a sad look in her eyes and an understanding smile.

  I can't exactly tell her she's wrong. I could never watch my mom getting married without thinking about my dad.

  "Your dad hasn't been gone very long. I know it's too soon for you," she says and runs her hand over my arm then clasps my hand in hers.

  I can't disagree and I don't want to lie. "You're right. It wouldn't be easy for me to watch you get married. But I'm happy you found someone."

  "Oh, thank you, sweetie. You're my sweet baby girl," Mom says and squeezes my face between her hands. She gives me a kiss and a hug, then we keep walking.

  I can't help smiling when my mom calls me her sweet baby girl. It's silly, but it gives me such a warm feeling inside. She has been calling me that since I was a little kid. Any time I did anything to help out, even if it was just to carry my juice glass into the kitchen, she would praise me with those words. It's a reminder of the old days when Dad was alive and we were all happy together.

  But I have to make peace with the way things are now. My mom has remarried, and she's moving into a mansion. The house is so big. I can't get over it. As we walk up to the pool area, the house towers above us. The pool area is raised a few steps. From there we can look around at the grounds, and they seem endless.

  The sun is low in the sky. The greens of the garden are starting to catch the light as it turns a deep yellow. The pool water is glinting blue and gold. It’s a spectacular pool, certainly big enough to suit a house this size.

  "That pool is insane. This whole place goes on for miles," Mom waves her hand at the grounds, but her eyes are still on the sparkling water of the pool. "Can you imagine being able to jump in the pool any time you want?"

  "No," I tell her. I have to admit that it sounds nice and the water looks so inviting.

  Then Mom says something I didn't expect. "You don't need to imagine it. You'll be able to do it. You're moving in."

  "Me? What?" This is news to me.

  "Well, sure. I can't live in luxury while you're cooped up in that little room over the café."

  "I'm Ok over there. Really," I assure her, but she won't hear of it.

  "I need you close. This is a strange, new house to me, and Curtis is away a lot. I need you here so I'll know that I'm home," she tells me.

  My heart melts at her words, but I'm still not sure how I feel about this. "You really want me to move in?"

  "Of course. And look at the size of this house. You'll have your own space and plenty of privacy."

  I'm still not sure about this, but Mom is already making plans for me.

  "I was thinking you might take that room." She points to a window on the second floor. "It's on the opposite side from the master bedroom. It's a big, bright room with a little sitting area. And it has a pretty view of the wild rose garden." After pointing out the garden further on, she turns to me. "So will you move in?" When I hesitate she adds, "And Vince doesn't live here, if that helps you make up your mind."

  I smile and say Ok. Mom hugs me then she steps back and looks at me with tears in her eyes. She takes my hand. "Thank you, sweetie. This place isn't my home yet, but with you here, it will be."

  I'll do anything for my mom, but looking up at the house that towers above me, I wonder what I just got myself into.

  Chapter 3

  ~

  Vince

  My dad and I have gone to his office. As I stare at that familiar tapestry of a hunting scene on the wall behind the desk, my dad goes to his well stocked bar. He offers me a drink, but I refuse and then make sure he isn't pouring himself one either. He sees me watching so he doesn't.

  I lean over by the glass doors and look out. From where I stand, I have a perfect view of the pool to my right. I can see them out there—Maryanne and her daughter. Maryanne is the typical blonde my father prefers but without the glitter and designer clothes. I expected Julie to be blond too, but her hair is golden brown, shining in the sun. Julie, that pretty little thing with a pasted on smile. Even from here, that fake shit is just pissing me off. Bet it's all fake—the shy smile and the sweet, innocent act she's putting on.

  I'll have to put on an act too for my dad's sale. Mine won't be as good. Some of what I'm feeling is bound to come through. Not too much I hope. My father's heart attack is too recent. I can't risk aggravating him.

  But maybe a quick, little guilt trip won't hurt. So I ask him, "You remember after Mom died how you promised me that you would never marry again? It was a while ago. Maybe you forgot."

  "I didn't forget, but that was when you were a little boy," my father says with a pained look in his eyes.

  "That's right. I should have known your promises have expiration dates. How long did you keep your vows to mom? She said it was until she got pregnant with me. That was nice timing."

  "You know how sorry I am about what I did and what happened to your mother. But Vince, you're not a little boy any more. You need to stop acting like one." He reaches for a bottle of scotch and tries to pour himself a glass.

  I grab the bottle away from him. "You just had a heart attack. You can forget about having a drink."

  He sighs, and I feel bad about giving him a hard time. I make him sit down in the leather chair behind his desk. This isn't his fault anyway. Maryanne did this. When Dad had his heart attack, she saw an opportunity and she took it. In his condition, Dad didn't stand a chance.

  Seeing how pale he is, I swallow everything else I want to say to him, especially what I think of his new wife. I'm not going to unload on my dad. Not with his heart attack just last week. I can't risk it. But I'm boiling over. I want to punch something or, better yet, someone. I hold it in though. I don't have it in me to pretend to be happy for them. I sure as hell can't fake a smile. What I can do is keep my mouth shut.

  The next time I look out the glass doors, Maryanne and her daughter are gone. It's time for me to go too. I don't live here any more.

  I'm on my way down the hall. Every inch of this place is so familiar. With everything that's happened, I have to remind myself this isn't my house. How can it be when that woman now lives here?

  As I am about to walk toward the front doors, I see her daughter. Julie is lurking over by the hallway that goes to the east wing. She doesn't see me as she stares at an old family photo of the Hendersons from the Roaring 20's.

  As she stares closely at the black and white picture, I stare at her. From her shoes to her golden brown hair, my eyes draw lines up and down, lingering on her pert ass. Though she's not dressed to show off her body, I still picture her stripped naked. Maybe the picture isn't accurate. I might just need to strip her myself and compare the picture from my imagination to the real thing.

  My dirty thoughts carry me closer to her. She has moved on to a different photo further down the hall, away from the foyer. The light isn't very good here. There's a window at the end of the hall but it's too well shaded by the trees in the garden. Julie is standing on her toes and looking closely at a group portrait of a costume party from the 70's. I've stared at it myself. But right now, I'm more interested in staring at her.

  I go to her. Actually, I'm sneaking up on her, inching closer. I make very little effort to hide my presence, but she still doesn't notice my approach. Every step closer to her gives me a thrill. Don't know why it should. She's nothing special.

  Now I'm standing right behind her. I can smell her hair. It's a light floral scent with a hint of citrus. I close my eyes as I inhale it. I notice how small she is. As she stands on her toes, my lips are on the same level as the top of her head. Looking down her body, I notice how slim her waist is. It accentuates the curve of her ass. Reaching down, I almost have my hands on it, when Julie finally not
ices me.

  She spins around, gasps, then draws back against the wall. Just where I want her. I move closer and make a space to stand between her legs. She should have closed them tighter. After some resistance, I feel her give up. Her knees have parted and I'm standing between them, pushing against her skirt.

  She gulps and breathes shakily. As I enjoy the rise and fall of her breasts, her nipples brush against my chest. Her narrow skirt is pushed in by the pressure of my knees. I lean in a little more and she can feel how hard I am. I'm surprised that she got me hard so fast, but I figure I might as well use it, see how she reacts.

  It's nice how she gasps. The delicious little intake of breath makes me even harder. I brush up against her and let her feel it. Her hazel eyes widen. Damn, they're pretty. She smells so nice too. I'm practically on top of her now. There's no space between us and her back and her ass are against the wall.

  Trapped between me and the wall, she squirms. That only gives my cock some extra friction. Blushing hard, she looks embarrassed by what she has done. For the first time, she looks away from me.

  I want her eyes back on me. I could just take hold of her chin and make her face me, but I get her attention another way. With a quick motion, I brush my hand over her breasts. Her gasp is almost a scream. Wide-eyed, she's looking at me again.

  When I step away from her without warning, she almost falls over and I grin.

  "I thought you were a good girl," I lie. I never thought that for a second. "You shouldn't let a guy you just met get so close. It sends the wrong message."

  My lecture makes her bristle.

  "Thanks for the advice. Was I supposed to scream? Maybe give your dad another heart attack?" she asks, glaring at me and blushing furiously.

  Hearing her talk about my dad, I want to slap her. "You could have said something in a normal tone of voice," I point out.

  "I'm saying it now. Since I'm going to be living here, I expect you to treat me with a minimum of respect," she says.

  I want to laugh at her for using the word respect, but what she said about moving in takes priority. The thought of it makes my blood boil. This was my mother's house. Maryanne has no right to take over. I pull in a deep breath.

  "I guess it's a good thing I already moved out," I tell her as evenly as I can. She doesn't look happy about that though. "What? Are you sorry to hear that?"

  "No," she denies it too quickly.

  It's nice to see that I've gotten to her. From her reaction, I know I can have her any time I want. But I don't want her. She's trash.

  ~

  Julie

  I have trouble breathing, even more now that Vince has let me go. My legs are still shaky so I lean against the wall for support. How can I calm down when he's right there—big, powerful, glaring at me with so much hate? I'm still feeling the aftershocks of his hard body pressed up against mine.

  It's purely an animal reaction to the opposite sex. Nothing more. A mating instinct or whatever makes me crave the biggest beast. That's what he is. That's why I'm melting inside as he treats me with contempt and stares at me menacingly.

  Once he's gone, I'll be fine. But he isn't leaving. He's lunging for me. With one powerful arm he grabs me around the waist and crushes me against his body. His fist holds a handful of my blouse at the base of my spine. His other hand mimics it. It's on the back of my head with a fistful of my hair.

  I whimper, my mouth open in shock and a twinge of pain. For a long moment, he doesn't do anything, just holds me like that. Then he leans in. His eyes bore into mine. I'm lost in his hate, in his blue-eyed, predatory look. His mouth inches down toward mine. With my lips parted, I wait and choke off a whimper.

  Then he's on me. His mouth on mine is so hard. His tongue thrusts in too deep. I can’t breathe, but I rise up toward him anyway, like I want more. This is so wrong. But still my mouth is open to him, and I let him kiss me deeper than anyone ever has before. Even as I feel I'm going to pass out, I suck on his tongue and moan into his mouth.

  My eyelids flutter. I might really pass out. He pulls off me, but that doesn't save me. I've forgotten how to breathe.

  "Breathe, you idiot," he barks at me and slaps my ass.

  Now I'm glaring at him and ready to kill him. And, yes, I am breathing. I try to pull away from him, but he doesn't let me go. When he does all of a sudden, I stumble back.

  "Is a slap on my ass your version of CPR?" I snap at him.

  "Yes. You want another one?"

  I blush and shudder and grit my teeth because I don't trust myself to speak. That smack on the ass did something to me. If he kept doing it, I feel like I might have come. I'm shaking all over. At that moment, I don't know what kind of depravity I'm capable of. I just need him to go away so I don't have to find out how low I might sink.

  Of course, he's smirking. He knows what he's done to me. My face feels hot. It must be bright red. As I stand there, dreading his next move, I can't stop myself from breathing hard. It's like I'm in heat and he can see every sign of it, even what's happening between my legs.

  "You really need to watch yourself," he says. Is he lecturing me again? "If you grind against every guy who so much as looks at you, you're going to make the family look bad. From now on, show a little more dignity."

  "The only one making this family look bad is you," I spit back at him. I barely manage to keep my voice down so the whole house won't hear.

  "I'm just doing what guys do. No one is going to judge me for it. So don't open your mouth or your legs that fast. Make a guy at least buy you dinner. I don't want stories about you to reach my dad."

  "Me? I haven't done anything." Once again I have to force myself not to scream. Why is he talking about me like I'm some kind of slut? I only had one boyfriend and that was in high school. And all we did was kiss. I don't tell Vince that, of course. The last thing I need to do is give that jerk more ammunition.

  With one final smirk, he leaves and I fume helplessly.

  Once he's gone, I start to calm down. I can even stand on my own two feet without shaking. Maybe he was right to lecture me. Well, not him. But if someone else did, they would be right. That was indecent. And with a stepbrother and an asshole like him, it was wrong in like ten different ways.

  So why the hell did I let him? He was too beautiful and strong to resist, and I liked it too much to stop him. As male specimens go, he is perfection. When I was pressed against him, his cock felt huge. Damn it, I throb just thinking about it. He had me by the hair and I didn't even think of protesting the rough handling. It was like he was asserting his rights over me, and I was submitting to him instinctively.

  That's when I realize something. This is why I am afraid of him, not because he might hurt me, but because he can do this to me—make me shake, make me want him. I was completely helpless against him, and that scares the hell out of me. From now on, I have to avoid him. I can't be alone with him again.

  Chapter 4

  ~

  Julie

  Though he isn't a hundred percent, Curtis insisted on throwing a party to celebrate his marriage to Mom. He said he wanted to show her off to all his friends. Mom is up for it, but I don't know about me. She did tell me to invite my friends too, but I felt weird about it, like I would be showing off or something. "Check it out, my mom married a rich guy."

  It's strange enough to be living here. I'm all moved into the mansion, but I haven't been staying there much. College and work at the café keep me pretty busy. Plus I am doing my best to avoid Vince. So far, so good. I haven't run into him even once. But I won't be so lucky at the party. At least there will be plenty of people there. I should be safe.

  Before the party, Mom wanted to take me shopping. She came by the café to try to talk me into an extravagant shopping trip.

  "You won't believe the things we can afford now. You can have everything designer from head to toe," she tells me.

  I love shopping with my mom, but I have to say no. It's Ok for Mom to spend Curtis's money on herself
. They are married after all. But I wouldn't feel comfortable going shopping at my new stepfather's expense.

  It is kind of a fancy party, but I have a pretty decent dress. I've worn it a few times, but that's Ok. I'm not used to having everything new. Old things are good too. They sometimes come with good memories.

  My car is like that. As I get into it to head to the Hendersons', my new home, I think about my dad. I'm driving my dad's old Jeep through rush hour traffic. It was his car since before he and Mom got married, and he loved it. Now I love it too though it's not exactly reliable. Still, I can't give it up.

  I remember riding in it when I was a little kid. My dad would be at the wheel singing along with the radio. He was a terrible singer. He only sang because it made me laugh. I remember how big he seemed to me then, a giant with a big voice driving the big car. He seemed invincible. I still can't believe he's gone.

  As I'm lost in memories of my dad, it's a shock to arrive in front of the Henderson mansion. I must have driven here on autopilot. The mansion is all lit up for the party, like a jewel against the evening sky. I drove here right after work, but I see that many people have arrived before me. There is a valet service parking people's cars, including mine. The cars aren't all fancy. That's because Mom's friends are here too.

  I rush inside and up to my room to get ready. I sneak a peek out the window as I slip out of my work clothes. The party is being held in the back garden. Everything is ready back there and it looks beautiful from my window. I was at work and didn't get the chance to watch them set up. From my window I can see lights shining and tables covered in white.

  By the time I get ready and go downstairs, the party is already in full swing. I can hear the music as I walk through the first floor of the house and out to the back. Going out through the glass doors, I stop and just take it all in.

 

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