Dirty Little Secret: New Adult Rock Star Romance (Not Exactly A Stepbrother Romance Book 1)

by Kristen Strassel

  Bret sucked in a deep breath, like I’d hit a button. “Yes, Gemma.” He stood, letting his shorts fall to the floor, and settled with his legs underneath him on the bed, his gaze cast down, dark lashes fanning out from the lids. He looked up, ready for his next command.

  Shit, this was heady. My sexual history wasn’t lacking, but it always went something like explore each other’s bodies, suck, fuck, and leave. Having someone surrender to my will? My heart fluttered just as fast as my cunt. I felt a sense of responsibility; Bret trusted me to take care of everything tonight. And I wanted to blow his fucking mind. Not in the I-wanted-to-take-the-five-million-dollars kind of way. Sure, that was still there, but it was more important to bring him someplace he’d never been before.

  Considering my playmate, that was a tall task. I reached into my cup. The remaining ice floated in freezing water. “How come you call me Gemma when we’re doing this?” It had always been Gem, since we were kids.

  “Because Gem is an annoying little brat who’s driven me batshit crazy my entire life. Gemma is the tempting seductress I’m fucking. Which one do you prefer?”

  I swallowed hard. “Gemma.”

  “Me too.” Bret lowered his gaze again. His muscles tensed as he twisted his arms behind his back. “What are you going to do with that ice cube?”

  “Stop talking.” I wasn’t going to let him ruin this by saying dumb shit. I took a sip of ice water, still holding the cube in my other hand. “Lean back.”

  His cock stood at attention. Perfect. He opened his mouth in a silent O when I slid the ice cube over the ball on the head of his cock. His body was on fire. I wouldn’t be surprised to see steam rising from the cube. The ice disappeared quickly. I reached back into the cup, took out another cube, and dragged it across his lips. He opened his mouth wide, trying to catch it, but he didn’t make a sound. I snatched the cube away, slipping it between my own lips before taking his cock in my mouth.

  Bret’s hips writhed under me with the sensation. Cupping his balls with my cold fingers, I pressed what was left of the cube to the base of his cock, and sucked. I took him as deep as I could, my hand following the movement of my lips.

  “Gemma”—Bret’s voice was strained—“can I touch you?”

  I stopped mid shaft and looked up at him. It was tempting to be a complete bitch and say no, and remind him I’d said no talking while I was at it. His whole body was flushed, and the look in his eyes was completely raw. Vulnerable. Maybe he was trying to trick me, but this was no power play. I could see right into his soul.

  “Please.” I hoped it didn’t sound like I was begging him.

  Bret curled his fingers in my hair. I wanted him to yank the fuck out of it, play a game of keep-away-from-the-cock with me. As I swirled my tongue around his piercings, the way he moved his fingers was almost comforting.

  Loving.

  Oh, hell no.

  I’d been had. Again. I tried to ignore the sinking feeling and scraped my teeth against his shaft.

  Bret groaned. “That feels so good.”

  I swatted his hands away and sat up, covering my face with my palms. “I can’t do this.” I could hardly breathe. “The money’s yours. Take it. It’s not worth it.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Gemma—“

  “Don’t call me that.” I swerved away. “And don’t touch me.”

  “What’s the matter?” he asked. “That was great.”

  “That’s the problem,” I cried. Shit. Mom was so on our cases about fighting. If she overheard us, it wouldn’t surprise me at all to see her barge in here, to give us a piece of her mind. If she found us naked and obviously post-something… Kill me now. “This is supposed to be a hate fuck, and it’s…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. I’d lost this challenge in every conceivable manner.

  “I didn’t expect you to top me on the first try, Gemma,” Bret said softly. Ever so humble. I rolled my eyes, but he went on. “That’s not the point. You didn’t even know what topping was before tonight. We can build up to it, if you want. Don’t run away from things that scare you, or you’ll do it all your life. You owe it to yourself to figure this out. I think what’s really upsetting you is that I like what you do to me.”

  He nailed it. “Maybe,” I said. It would be so much easier if he taunted me. Then I probably could go right back to what I was doing. But no. He liked it, and he was being nice to me. I couldn’t take it.

  “Don’t. You give a hell of a blow job.” He pulled my hand away from my face and laced his fingers between mine. The move didn’t make me more comfortable. “This is honestly some of the best sex I’ve ever had,” he said, “and it’s only going to get better. The fact that we’re going straight to Hell because of this makes it even hotter. I’m not letting you give up this easy. Especially when you’ve got that candle burning.”

  Best sex ever, huh? Likewise. “Bullshit,” I said.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of time to make you hate me.” He reached over to the nightstand for the candle, pushing my shoulder back until my head was on the mattress.

  “I already hate you,” I reminded him, bracing myself for impact. The sensation of the hot wax dripping over my breasts was amazing.

  He chuckled. “No, you don’t. You just think you do. But you will.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I don’t know how much you know about this shit, but it’s supposed to be safe, sane, and consensual. It will probably be safe. I know you’re into it.” Bret licked my arm before he looped a rope around my wrists, securing my arms behind my back. “But you know as well as I do we’re both fucking insane.”

  “I guess two wrongs make a right.”

  “Exactly.” He tugged on the bonds. “I’m glad you took our talk the other night to heart, Gemma. I’m having a hell of a time with this. Since you’ve only had vanilla sex, I’ve come up with some stuff that will blow your fucking mind.”

  “Like what?” I squirmed around, to test the limits of my restraints. Balance wasn’t so easy with my arms out of the equation. “And I think I remember someone saying I gave him the best sex he’s ever had.” So take that. Vanilla could be hot, too.

  “It wouldn’t be any fun if I ruined the surprise.” Bret grasped the back of my neck and pushed my face into the mattress. His breath was hot against my cheek. “Imagine how much better it could be.”

  I didn’t get up when he let go of me. He pushed my legs apart, my soaking wet pussy completely exposed to him.

  I wriggled on the bed, my ass high in the air. Bret still sat next to me. “Are you comfortable like that?” he asked.

  I nodded against the mattress. Comfortable wasn’t the best word for it, but it didn’t hurt.

  “If it starts to bother you, let me know. Do you have a safe word?”

  “No.” I tried to lift my head but couldn’t at this angle.

  “Pick one.” Bret pushed a hair away from my face. “Some people do stoplight colors. Others pick a word they’d never say, so it doesn’t come out by accident and stop the scene when that’s the last thing you want to happen.”

  I moaned. Bret ran his hand down my back and stopped on my ass. The sensation was so much more intense with no way to control it. I was completely at his mercy. I hadn’t decided how I felt about that yet, which made it more exciting. “If I use a safe word and have you stop, does it mean we’re done? I’ve totally tapped out?”

  “No, because you tried something new. It doesn’t mean the bet’s off. If you flat out refuse to give it a go, I’m a millionaire.” Bret massaged my ass, spreading me wider. “You may not even use the safe word. But if something goes beyond what you’re willing to do, or—“

  “That’s the agreement, though.” Damn it. We should’ve discussed this before he restrained me. “When we hit each other’s limits, the other one gets the money. So my safe word might as well be you win.”

  “You’ll know when you hit your absolute limit, Gemma.” He dipped his thumb int
o my folds, massaging my labia. My body pulsed in time with his strokes. “Neither of us have been dragged into this kicking and screaming. If we stopped right now, would you be willing to walk away from the whole arrangement? Go back to the way we were before?”

  He rolled his fingers, caressing my pussy, teasing my clit but not committing to it. I had to think about his question before answering him. Taking the money out of the equation, did I want this to stop? I lost my shit the other night when Bret said he enjoyed what we were doing. Maybe because I wasn’t ready to face that I was, too. When we were together like this, it was the only time I didn’t want to strangle him. I actually liked the bastard when he was naked. And sticking his fingers inside me.

  He curled them forward, hitting everything just right. I circled my hips, and he added another finger. “Are you trying to influence my answer?” I asked. It was hard to talk.

  “Maybe.”

  “No. I don’t want to stop.” I thought it would be hard to admit it to him, but it rolled off my lips, natural and honest.

  “Good.” Bret brushed his thumb near my back door and I jumped. “I hoped you’d say that. I know you’re freaked out, but think of it this way. How else would you get the chance to find out what really turns you on? All kidding aside, you know your secret stays with me. I can’t blow the lid off on what you do without dragging myself down.”

  “You’re making good on your promise.” A moan slipped out, and Bret stilled his hand like he wanted to absorb the vibration into his body. “You’re pushing me out of my comfort zone.” As terrified as I was about where this would ultimately lead, the possibilities were even more arousing than what he was doing with is fingers.

  “How does it feel, Gemma?” That low, commanding tone was back. I squeezed down on his fingers, arousal dripping out of me.

  “Exciting.”

  “I know.” Bret lowered his face and blew a long, hot breath on my nether lips.

  I shuddered. Unable to see him or move, I’d given him total control of my body. Outside this room, he didn’t deserve it. In here, I trusted him completely. I wanted him to push me to the brink. I had no plans of walking away. Instead I’d hold his hand and jump off the cliff.

  “You can lie to me with your words, but you can’t lie to me with your body.” Bret drew his fingers out of me and repositioned my thighs.

  I didn’t stay empty long. He ran his tongue the length of my slit and settled on my clit, pulling the swollen skin away from my body and then catching it between his lips. I loved the way he curled his fingers into my hips as he licked and sucked, the pleasure mixing with pain, sensation everywhere. I pushed back against him, encouraging him to swallow me whole. My body throbbed as he pressed his tongue and lips around my clit, mimicking the movement I’d made with my pussy around his cock. I wondered if it felt as good as when I did it to him. If it did, he should be organizing a parade in my honor.

  “What’s your safe word?” he asked. “I almost forgot.”

  “Leonardo.” I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

  Bret laughed. “Like the actor or the Ninja Turtle? I want to make sure I have the proper visual in mind when you scream his name.”

  “I’m sure as hell not going to be screaming your name.” The possibility was becoming more real, but I’d never tell him. “I was thinking the actor, but I want you to picture the turtle.”

  “Deal.”

  He wasn’t afraid to touch and explore. So many guys I’d been with had been funny about taking care of business down there, but Bret took his time, making sure to wrench every drop of ecstasy out of me. He slipped his tongue inside, quick and venomous like a snake, as he fucked me with it.

  “Harder,” I whispered.

  Bret pulled away, and I groaned. “Patience, Gemma.” The bastard started all over again, licking my labia so gently it tickled.

  “Claw into me.” My voice didn’t belong to me; it came out in a growl. “Draw blood if you have to. Make it hurt.”

  “I said, be patient.” Bret squeezed my hips.

  I squirmed away from him. “No. Quit it with the gentle shit. Save that for your girlfriend. I want you to fuck me. Hard.”

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do in here. When we’re in your bedroom, you can order me around all you want. But when I host, what I say goes”—he nipped my clit, and I muffled my cry in the mattress—“unless you use your safe word.” He sucked hard, and the sensation changed from stinging to throbbing. I didn’t want to come yet. I kept making it too easy on him. Bret needed to work for this shit. It wasn’t fair that he could get me to burst into a million pieces but I had yet to figure out how to unravel him.

  It pissed me off.

  Bret totally had the upper hand in this whole thing. He’d figured out the key to my body, and I was still trying to read the instruction manual on his. The bastard had it written by someone who only spoke English as a third language. It gave me a headache, and I had a bunch of parts left over I didn’t know what to do with. I’d been close to giving up more than once, and he convinced me to keep going. I didn’t understand how he did it, but if the rock star thing didn’t work out, he should consider a career in motivational speaking.

  I could’ve let him have the money and then hated every second of the rest of my life, knowing I let Bret be a millionaire while I suffered in poverty for years. But he wouldn’t let it happen. It was like he wanted me to win.

  Whatever his strategy was, it was a complete mind fuck.

  And I liked it.

  Bret pushed his tongue back inside me, the quick strokes sending electricity shooting through my body. He massaged my clit in hard, rhythmic circles. The sensations didn’t translate into words. They were just feeling.

  “Bret?” A voice that sounded an awful lot like Mom’s came from the hallway.

  No.

  My subconscious had to be playing tricks on me. The devil crept out of the dark recesses of my brain and planned on dragging me straight to Hell. Satan had a safe word, and it was my stepbrother’s name.

  Bret froze, his tongue still inside me.

  Shit. He heard it too.

  The frantic thumping on the door erased any chance we were hearing things.

  “Fuck,” Bret groaned, pulling my legs out from under me.

  I landed flat on the mattress with a thump, and the impact knocked the breath out of me.

  “Just a minute,” he called. He ripped the comforter out from under me, threw it over my body, and tucked it around my feet. I wanted to tell him my clothes were on the floor, but I couldn’t risk Mom hearing me. The room was such a mess, she probably wouldn’t notice.

  “I can’t fucking believe this,” he muttered.

  My heart beat so hard, I thought I’d break a rib. There was nothing I could do but lie there as Bret opened the door.

  “What’s up, Ellen?” His voice was an octave higher than it usually was. I had no idea what he still had on. When he pushed my face down, he was still fully dressed. It was a blessing in disguise that he’d taken his time with me. If he’d started fucking me, he would’ve had to shove everything back into his shorts.

  “Can you come look at some things in the basement? I’ve got to put together the order with the party rental place for the Fourth, before they run out of everything. I think some of it can do double duty, but I need a second opinion.” Holy shit, Mom came in the room. It reeked of sex in here. Bret had me dripping in anticipation of his cock. Mom would know. She wasn’t stupid. I held my breath. If I breathed, it would come out in a pant, and the comforter would move like a living thing. Was it possible for me to will myself to die? The silence might kill me, along with the shame. Both had their feet on my throat, choking the life out of me.

  “What are you doing?” Mom asked.

  “I was about to go through my closet.” Bret still sounded funny. Or maybe I was tunneling out from lack of oxygen. It was hard to tell. “There’s crap in there from high school. But yeah, let’s go loo
k at the party stuff.”

  The door closed, the voices were gone, and I could only hope he managed to get her out of the room when he left. I couldn’t sense anyone. The room had fallen completely still, save the throbbing of my own internal organs. I dared to exhale, tears stinging my eyes.

  Bret was gone too long. My relaxation turned to panic. What if she went to my room, and I didn’t answer? I couldn’t have gone anywhere without asking to borrow her car. Mom knew; there was no way around it. She probably threw Bret out of the house and was in the process of changing the locks. My arms tingled, and a heavy feeling crept in as the blood stopped flowing to them. I considered rolling over, but it wouldn’t help. I’d probably die here, naked and tied up in my stepbrother’s bed.

  It wouldn’t be a boring death. At least I had that going for me.

  I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut when someone ripped the comforter off me. If it was Mom, I couldn’t face her. What the hell would I say?

  “Sorry,” Bret muttered, making fast work of untying my arms. I tried to shake them once they were free, but they didn’t work all that well. He rubbed them, and the feeling returned, but the rest of me was totally numb. “She had a whole list of things she wanted me to go through.”

  “Because she knew you had a girl in your bed.” I pulled the comforter up to my naked body and hugged it. “Did she say anything about me?” Half the reason she wanted to have this party was to make the two of us work together, like civil adults.

  Bret shook his head. “She didn’t. But she knew I was lying to her.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “That was close.”

  “That was insane.” I jumped off the bed and searched for my clothes in the tangle of sheets, pillows, and Bret’s neglected laundry. He really knew how to set the tone for a girl. Ugh. “We can’t keep doing this, Bret. It’s totally disrespectful to my mom. We’re using her house as our fucking dungeon.”

  “You knew all along we could get caught.” Bret smirked. “And until she knocked on the door, you were willing to go forward with it. Ellen didn’t suspect anything, as far as you were concerned. You know as well as I do she would’ve ripped that blanket off you and kicked us both out of the house without a second thought if she did. So what? She thought I had a girl in here. I’m twenty-five years old. I haven’t lived under anyone’s roof in almost seven years. She won’t ask specifics about who I choose to entertain. Or how. Some questions don’t need to be answered.”