Upon finding Blaise with a short glass half filled with amber liquid, she asked, “is that whiskey?”
“Bourbon,” he replied, smiling like an idiot.
Great. She’d be walking home, then. She seated herself before she realized there was only one glass on the table. “I’ll just go to the bar,” she told him, her mouth set in a grim line, which thinned even further when he just nodded, and let his gaze ramble throughout the bar.
Attracting the attention of the bartender was easier than keeping her date’s, she discovered after her third consecutive trip to the bar. Blaise sat like an inanimate object, sipping his first drink, and looking around him as if expecting the bogeyman to pop out from under a table at any given moment. “White wine spritzer?” the bartender asked, with a knowing leer.
“Yes, please.” She took a crisp new ten from her clutch and held it out to him, but he just shook his head and replied, “on the house.”
Oh, great. Even the bartender feels sorry for me. Some date this had turned out to be. Apart from a shop mannequin, she couldn’t think of anyone she’d less rather spend time with, than Blaise. “Hey gorgeous.” An arm snaked its way around her waist and she was pulled into a rather solid chest.
Chapter Four
“Blaise?” Well this was a turn about. She tilted her head and smiled at him. Maybe he’d just had a lot on his mind.
“The one and only. What say you and me play some pool, huh?” He twirled her around to face him, throwing a note at the bartender and absentmindedly ordering another bourbon on the rocks. “I know I’ve been a shitty date so far, but I promise I’m a better pool teacher than a conversationalist.”
A genuine smile spread across her face as she took him up on his offer. For the next hour, Blaise was the perfect date – attentive, witty, and above all else, flirty as hell. So flirty, in fact that several other women in the bar turned to them with jealousy painted on their faces.
“No, no, you gotta keep your back straight,” he told her for the sixth time, grabbing her hips and pulling them backward and upward. “If you don’t keep your back straight…” He ran his hand down to her thigh as she took her shot. The cue ball skipped over the red she’d been aiming for and landed in the corner pocket. “You’ll miss your shot,” he finished.
“That wasn’t fair,” she laughed. “You tickled me. And besides. I can’t bend over like that in this skirt.” Clearly, she would give new meaning to the phrase ‘room with a view’ if she bent over the way he wanted her to. Maybe Logan was right about the skirt being too little. Throwing his head back in a laugh, all that glorious hair spilling down his back, Blaise grabbed her by the waist. “I could stand behind you and keep watch,” he told her cheekily.
“I’m sure you could,” Sophie replied, laughing despite herself. She removed his hands and excused herself to the bathroom again to freshen up. Things were looking up, she decided, giving her slightly disheveled appearance a once over in the mirror and doing what she could to fix herself. Blaise wasn’t so bad a date, after all. Even if he did make her pay for her own drinks. She was all for gender equality. Maybe she’d buy him a drink, instead. Yeah, maybe she would. She giggled, feeling the five spritzers she’d had create a little buzz in her veins.
~
Logan
Logan watched his stepsister from across the bar. Bethany snuggled up to him in the corner booth, where they’d gone unnoticed for the past thirty minutes. Blaise had his hands all over her, and she was enjoying herself a little too much. She seemed to be getting fairly drunk too. Hands clenching, he felt his stomach knot with jealousy. Why did he even come here tonight? He’d known there was more than a fair chance of her being here with her date, so did he come here to torture himself?
Yes, he realized. He had. He’d come here tonight, hoping and fearing to see exactly what was happening. She was his family – he loved her and wanted her to have fun – and she deserved some happiness, but damn. Bethany ran her index finger between the hem of his shirt and the waist of his jeans, and he stiffened¸ turning his gaze from Sophie to his date.
“You alright, hon?” she asked, all wide-eyed sincerity. She really was a beauty. Her lips were plump and kissable, and her tiny button nose had an equally tiny diamond in one nostril. She widened her icy blue eyes further at his obvious interest. “I’m just fine, baby. Come here.”
He kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth, feeling the vibrations of her moan on his lips. Hearing Sophie’s laugh across the room only made his excitement grow. He tried to feel bad about that, he really did, but he was too busy losing himself in the warmth of Bethany’s mouth, while imagining it was Soph’s. He ran a hand up her arm, feeling the goosebumps there. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, breaking the kiss.
They sneaked out the back door, Sophie’s girlish giggles echoing in his ears.
~
Sophie
“Slow down, sweetheart.” Blaise gently took the glass from her hand, and replaced it on the table. “I think you’ve probably had enough for a while. Let’s dance.”
He was right. She’d been knocking the spritzers back like they were water, and she had that invincible feeling that meant she was sozzled. Dancing with Blaise seemed a very good idea right now, and she nodded eagerly. Someone had put something slow and sexy on the jukebox and there were already several couples moving to the beat. Sophie flung her arms around Blaise’s neck and moved rhythmically to the soft, sensual beat.
For his part, he wound his arms around her waist and held on while she writhed against him, a smile playing about his mouth. “You sure can dance.”
She’d taken a couple of dance classes with Serena a few years ago and knew just enough to not make a fool of herself. She had no natural rhythm though, and had to rely on learned moves. It was repetitive enough that she wouldn’t fool anyone for more than two songs. She giggled. “You’re a good partner.”
His eyes kept darting to the bar where a group of girls sat, stony-faced. One of them smirked at Sophie and lifted one of her perfectly manicured brows in Blaise’s direction. “What’s her problem?”
He wrapped his arms more securely around her, presenting her back to the women. “She’s my ex,” he explained.
“How ex?” She thought of Taylor all of a sudden, and the feeling that Blaise might be still involved with this girl made her sick.
“Last month.” He lowered his mouth to her cheek, placing a chaste kiss there. “We’re over.”
Relaxing, Sophie let the fuzz of alcohol take over again. “Okay.” A month was fine. Even if she was his rebound girl, that was just fine, since she’d decided he could be her rebound guy. She felt her lips pull in a wicked smile. Before Blaise lifted his head she captured his lips in a searing kiss.
Surprised by her own daring, she was satisfied when his tongue swept into her mouth, bringing with it the taste of bourbon. Okay, she told herself. That’s quite enough of that. But Blaise had other ideas. He backed them into a booth, pressing her to the backrest, resting his hand on her thigh. Too much, she decided. Putting a hand between them on his chest, she pushed slightly.
“Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, his gaze once again drawn to the bar and his ex. Sophie turned her head in time to see the girl storm toward the bathroom, and noticed that Blaise’s passion seemed to cool quite quickly once she’d disappeared. He cleared his throat, pulled a twenty from his pocket and stalked toward the bar.
In his absence, Sophie retrieved her drink and drained it in one quick swallow. An uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach, and she knew that if she wasn’t determined to give Logan some privacy with his own date, she’d call it a night right now. Another half hour, she promised. She could leave then knowing that he’d had at least a few hours with his date to…do whatever.
The bar was filling up now, and by the time Blaise returned from the bar Sophie was feeling the need for a bit of cool air. He placed his drink on their table and offered to go out with her, but she refused.
The alcohol was fuzzing her brain a little too much, and she needed a clearer mind. She was missing something, and she needed a minute to figure it out.
The night air felt heavenly on her skin, and she sighed as she leaned against the balustrade. Overhead, a fat moon hung low in the sky. She fixed her gaze on it and sorted through her sluggish mind. Blaise and his ex were obviously not over, as he’d claimed. At least, they weren’t as over as they thought they were. He’d been sullen and distant earlier in the night, but as soon as the bar started filling up a little, his attention was suddenly all for her.
Presumably his ex had walked in and he was showing her what she was missing. And by the look on her face as she stormed into the bathroom, she’d obviously been missing him a lot. Blaise didn’t seem like the type of guy who would use someone in such a way, but what did she know? She didn’t know him from a hole in the ground. She'd just arrived here three weeks ago to see Logan and that was it. She didn’t know anyone else here.
Feeling suddenly silly, she headed back inside to tell Blaise that she didn’t feel very well and was heading home. Pretty certain he wouldn’t even miss her, since he was currently embroiled in a heated conversation with said ex, Sophie turned and quickly walked back out without speaking to him at all.
The walk back to Logan’s house felt like a walk of shame after her bold statements of 'don’t wait up' earlier. She was just hoping she wasn’t intruding coming home so early. She checked her watch – it was just shy of midnight – surely Logan wouldn’t even notice her slipping into the house. He’d be getting up to whatever sexcapades he enjoyed and Sophie would just go straight to bed. She was sure the alcohol flowing though her veins right now would help her to sleep, no matter what strange sounds the bathroom bimbo would be making with her brother.
She twisted her ankle coming up the drive and decided that walking on her bare feet in the gravel was better than picking her way through it on stiletto heels. She bent down to remove her killer shoes and took her key from her purse before continuing to the door.
Stealthy as a thief, she turned the key in the door and closed it behind her without making a sound. So far, so good. She tip-toed to her room, but just as she was about to go through her doorway, movement caught the corner of her eye. Afraid to look, and at the same time powerless not to, she turned her head a fraction.
Bethany was laid out like a banquet, naked and spread on the dining room table. Thank God there’s a tablecloth, she thought, distractedly. The tablecloth was currently balled up in Bethany’s tightened fists as she moaned and writhed in ecstasy. Her blond hair was arranged around her like a pillow and her chest heaved up and down, making her large but pert breasts quiver with each moaning exhale.
One of her hands releasing the tablecloth, she reached down, stroking the dark head between her thighs. Oh, my God, that’s Logan. Sophie put a hand to her mouth to stem the gasp rising up her throat as Bethany chose that moment to grab a fistful of Logan’s hair and grind herself against his face, screaming like a banshee. Sophie realized the girl was having an orgasm, and heat crept up her face.
A moment later, Logan rose from his position between the woman’s thighs, licking his lips and smiling down at her. His naked chest gleamed with a sheen of sweat and his hair was mussed, giving him the appearance of just getting out of bed. Or just getting ready to fuck, thought Sophie, her eyes glued to the scene. He took one of Bethany’s slender calves in his hand, lifting it high, spreading her further, before he used his other hand to guide himself inside her.
Sophie found herself craning her neck for a proper look at Logan, and was shocked at the revival of desire she felt. Was she sick? This was Logan. He was her brother.
Step-brother, that old wicked voice inside her said.
Her view of Logan was blocked from the waist down due to both the woman and the tablecloth but Sophie could see the look of intense relief on his face as he entered her in a deep thrust. Bethany gasped, raising her lower body off the table to meet him thrust for thrust. “Logan,” she cried, desperately clawing at his chest. She wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him close.
He kissed her like a thing possessed, and Sophie found herself being turned on more than she ever had been in her entire life. Logan rode her in a punishing display of power and desire, turning Sophie’s insides to mush. Some primal thing pulled low in her belly as he again brought his partner to orgasm, screaming and flailing, calling his name like it was the only word she could remember.
And if it was the only thing Bethany could remember, Sophie couldn’t blame her. Logan kept his thrusts up, starting to groan himself now, and Sophie found her breaths coming faster and faster. She pressed her legs tight together looking for some form of relief.
Now standing straight, Bethany exhausted on the table, he pounded in and out of her. He placed a hand between her legs, making her exhale in a tortured exclamation. But he wasn’t nearly finished, and so, hand moving faster and faster while he pumped her, he made her come yet again, sobbing.
“Oh, fuck…” he groaned.
Sophie, barely able to stand, found her hand sliding down her stomach, over her skirt to her thighs and then under her skirt. She felt like she was losing control. She’d never been so ready to come in all her life, and he hadn’t even touched her. He didn’t even know she was there.
Sliding her panties to the side, she slipped a finger inside her folds, finding herself as wet as she knew she’d be. A tiny mewl bubbled up her throat and escaped her lips. Logan’s eyes locked on hers and quickly dropped to her hand, which was still moving between her legs, as if it belonged to someone else. Once again locking his gaze with hers, he came, loud and long, looking straight at Sophie. Within a millisecond her own orgasm took her by surprise, and she sagged, coming silently, her hips making small, involuntary jerks, and all the while, their gazes were locked together in a mixture of shock and lust.
Chapter Five
“Oh, God” Sophie groaned in complete mortification as she dove into her bedroom, locked the door and pretended the past ten minutes never happened. If the ground could have opened up and swallowed her, that would have been just fine. She waited. Muted voices came from the hallway as Logan showed his date to the door.
“I really enjoyed tonight,” she could hear the bathroom bimbo simpering. So she didn’t know about Sophie’s voyeurism, then. That was something to be thankful for, at least.
“Yeah it was great,” Logan replied. She could tell his reply was half-hearted at best, so when the knock came at her door, she was expecting it, and only jumped a little.
“Soph,” he called quietly. “Open the door, please. Come on.”
She snuggled deeper into the duvet, wishing for nothing more than an atomic bomb to save her the reply.
“Come on,” he called again, his voice sounding tired.
No wonder he’s tired, that wicked part of her mind piped up again. “Go away, Logan.”
Even saying his name felt different now. It felt more intimate. Her thighs were wet as she pressed them together again, that wicked voice stirring memories of what it was like to watch Logan in action.
“Not until we talk.”
She could picture him, determined, an arm on each side of her door frame. What are you wearing? Stop it, she scolded herself. These thoughts were so wrong. “I can’t, Logan. I just can’t.” What could she say? That watching him screw his date on the dining table made her so hot that she couldn’t resist touching herself while she spied on them? No way.
“Please.” He sounded desperate, and Sophie almost went to him. Instead, face burning, she pulled the pillow over her face. “Soph…”
~
Morning came way too quickly, and having had very little sleep, Sophie was determined to be out the door before he even woke. She had a busy day at work planned, and now seriously needed to find some place else to stay.
She showered and dressed, not bothering to dry her hair before pulling it into a messy top-knot. C
arrying her shoes in her hand so she made as little noise as possible as she crept past his door into the kitchen to fill a thermos with coffee to take with her. As she walked into the living area, depositing her shoes on the floor, she found her gaze drawn to the dining table – which was missing its tablecloth – and felt her face flame anew.
“Soph…” Logan was sitting at the breakfast bar, hair still damp from his own shower, wearing a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. It was just tight enough to define his body and Sophie hated herself for noticing. She ignored him as she went about filling the thermos, her hands shaking so badly that she had to do it over the sink for fear of spilling it all over the floor.
She felt him standing behind her, close enough that his breath tickled the back of her neck. Her stomach in knots she stood unmoving, not knowing what to say. He reached around her and she started. Taking the coffee pot and thermos from her clenched fingers to place them on the counter, he ran his hand back up her arm. She shivered, still unwilling to speak.
“We need to talk,” he whispered close to her ear.
“Look, Logan,” she began, deciding the best way to deal with this was to meet it head on and brazen it out. “I was pretty drunk last night. Totally trashed, actually. I don’t know what I was thinking…I…” His hand on her shoulder, fingers lightly stroking the base of her neck made her suck in a breath.
“Look at me,” he demanded, still stroking her sensitive skin.
“No.” He was doing funny things to her insides. She could already feel herself growing wet again. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps and her knees were starting to buckle. No one had ever had this affect on her but him. Certainly not Taylor, who she’d been living with for the past three years.
Stepbrother, Mine Page 11
