Based: A Stepbrother Romance (Extreme Sports Alphas)

by Hamel, B. B.

  I had to figure out if I would give in to what I knew could be a huge mistake.

  Chapter Ten: Lincoln

  I was falling. I could feel the wind whipping through my hair and the scream of it passing across my ear drums, and the sky all around me was dark. I couldn’t see the building I had just jumped from and I couldn’t see the ground, but I didn’t care because she was there, right in front of me. I could smell her hair and her skin, despite the sensory overload that falling inevitably brings. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer against me, closer even than the straps that held her body in place.

  And we fell together. I felt more alive than I ever had before, and I could tell that I was laughing. I kissed her lips and wondered briefly why she was strapped in facing me instead of facing outward like usual. But I didn’t care. Somehow it made sense. I kissed her and she kissed me back, our lips and limbs intertwined. We were hurtling toward the ground faster than a train, our bodies tiny in the black void of the night, and all I wanted was her. My cock was hard and straining against my clothes. When we landed, I knew I was going to take her, right there. I was going to fuck her until everything was gone and she was mine.

  I pulled away, wanting to look at her. She smiled at me and her mouth moved. I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

  “What?” I yelled over the wind.

  She said something again. Before I could respond, the old panic welled up in my chest.

  “I need to pull the chord,” I yelled.

  She kept smiling and saying something, over and over.

  I reached back for the old familiar tug, but found nothing. I tried looking over my shoulder, craning my neck, but it was so dark and we were falling so fast. I patted my whole body, searching frantically for the cord, but it was gone.

  It was completely gone.

  Somebody had strapped Aubrie in wrong and had cut the cord and we were going to smash into the ground. We were going to smash like a shooting star, together.

  “I can’t find the chord,” I yelled.

  She kept smiling and saying something, over and over and over.

  I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her head against my chest. I began to rotate, hoping that maybe my body would break her fall. Maybe she would survive. I held on to her tightly, the ground rushing up at us.

  I woke up, drenched in sweat. Another fucking nightmare, I thought.

  It was the same dream, but a little different. Instead of reliving the crash again, I was strapped in with Aubrie and we were falling together. We were falling without a chute.

  I shook my head, clearing away the lingering feelings from the dream, and sat up. I hadn’t spoken to Aubrie since the charity event five days ago, but she was the only thing on my mind since then. The kiss, the look on her face, and the call from her dad. More than that, what it meant that I could barely keep myself from barging into her room every night and ripping off her clothes.

  I moved to stand up and glanced down at myself. I sighed at the tented fabric of my boxers, the stiff morning wood more of an annoyance than anything else. It was a little weird that a dream about falling to my death with Aubrie got me hard, but I wasn’t about to analyze that too much. I was going through enough weird Freudian shit without trying to figure out every single symbol from my dreams.

  I got up, limped into the bathroom, waited for my dick to soften enough to piss, and looked into the mirror. “Get your shit together,” I said softly to my reflection. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get the thought of that kiss out of my head. I had never wanted someone like I wanted her, and the years had only made that feeling even stronger.

  It probably didn’t help that I hadn’t gotten laid in a while. Or that I kept jerking off thinking about Aubrie’s pussy wrapped around the head of my dick and her moan as she lowly slid down my length. I wanted to lift her up and push her down hard, pressing myself deeper into her. I wanted to make her throw her head back and moan until her voice went hoarse. I wanted to fuck her again and again until she limped as much as I did. I wanted to come deep into her throat, into her pussy, all over those full, firm tits, all over her perky, tight ass.

  I glanced down at my dick, already stiffening again. I sighed, sitting down on the lid of the toilet, and spit into my hand, slowly working up and down my length.

  I couldn’t go walking around the house thinking about how badly I wanted to spread Brie’s legs and fuck her rough from behind. There was no telling what I would do if I glanced her sitting by the pool, her body spilling out of her bathing suit. Maybe I’d walk over to her right then and there, rip off her bottoms, and lick her pussy until she begged for my cock. Then I’d let her ride me until she came, over and over and over. Or I’d bend her down, her hands flat on the back of the chair, and grab onto her hips hard as I thrust into her soaked pussy. I’d plunge myself deeper and deeper, slapping her ass.

  I moved my hand faster up and down my length as I thought about all the different ways I wanted to fuck and ravage Aubrie. All the different places I wanted to make her come. All the different ways I could make her moan until she had nothing left.

  I grunted softly as I came, the image of Aubrie’s lips wrapped around my shaft echoing through my brain.

  Slowly, I calmed myself and cleaned up. I stood, sighing at the pain.

  I may have gotten off, but I was nowhere near satisfied. I wasn’t sure I ever would be again.

  The lights felt hotter than usual as I ran through the stretches. Pushing and pulling and moving, shaking out muscles, loosening aches and pains.

  “You’re getting stronger,” Tracey said as she stood up.

  I shrugged, catching my breath. “I’m already strong. My legs are just catching up to the rest of me.”

  She laughed. “I believe that.”

  I glanced over at Jess and saw her give me a slight nod. I figured she liked that line, which pissed me off a little bit. Ever since the charity event, I had been feeling more and more trapped by the cameras.

  Before Aubrie showed up, they were just another means to an end, another PR stunt to further my career. But suddenly they had become an obstacle standing in the way of something that I wanted more than anything else.

  “You ready for ten more?” Tracey said.

  “Always ready for more.”

  By the end of the halfway point of our morning session, I was already drenched in sweat and exhausted. I was probably pushing myself too hard, but I had something to work for, something more than just the ability to jump off tall shit again. We took our usual fifteen minute break, and I sat with my back against the wall, catching my breath as the crew wandered off. Jess approached me with this sly half smile.

  “How’s it going today, Based?”

  “Fine. How’s exploiting my image going for you?”

  “Come on, don’t be that way. We’re getting some good footage.”

  “I’m so glad I can be entertaining.”

  She smiled big. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

  I blinked at her. “What now?”

  She crouched down next to me. “We need more, Lincoln. You getting all sweaty is good, but we can’t just show you working out for two hours. We’re trying to sell this as an inspirational, meaningful piece.”

  “You have all my tapes.”

  “Yeah, we do. And that’s good. We’ll use plenty of that.”

  “And the interviews.”

  “Good stuff there, too. But we need to see you being a regular human, too.”

  “What, I’m not normal enough?”

  She laughed. “No, you’re a freak. We both know it.”

  I frowned, not sure if I should be pissed off or if she was trying to compliment me. “Where are you going with this?”

  “We need you to do stuff. See some friends. Talk to your family. Do anything other than mope around between PT sessions.”

  That definitely annoyed me. “I don’t mope. What the fuck do you want from me?”

  “I wan
t you to do your job, Lincoln. Spend some time with your sister.”

  “Stepsister,” I correct her.

  “Whatever. Talk to your mother. Help out with one of her events. Call up some old high school buddies. Do something other than act so damn depressing all the time.”

  I clenched my jaw and struggled to my feet. Jess stayed crouched down and looked up at me.

  “Fuck you, Jess. I’m giving you as much as I can.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “Too damn bad.” I turned away and began to limp toward the door.

  “I’ll talk to him, if I have to.”

  I stopped and slowly turned back toward her. She stood up and smirked at me.

  “The fuck you just say?”

  “I’ll talk to him. I don’t want to, but I will.”

  “You think this is some fucking game? That you can threaten me with my stepdad and jail and whatever else?”

  “I need more, Lincoln. Just give me a little help with this.”

  “I’d rather rot in a fucking cell again than help you.”

  I turned and limped away, not bothering to listen to her reply. I was furious, beyond angry. I never thought the phrase “seeing red” could be literal, but I was literally seeing red. Everything was tinged red. I wanted to break something, to make something bleed, to punish something the way that I felt like the world was punishing me.

  I wanted to crush the whole fucking house in the palm of my hand.

  I ended up walking out the front door and slamming it behind me. I took a few steps out into the yard, breathing heavily.

  “You okay?”

  I looked over my shoulder at Brent the cameraman smoking a cigarette.

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  He shrugged and took a drag. “You look pissed.”

  I nodded at him. “Bum me one?”

  “Sure.”

  I hobbled over to him and took a cigarette and the lighter. I breathed deeply, flicking the lighter on, sucking the smoke into my mouth and inhaling it into my lungs. I handed him back the lighter as the nicotine hit my head, giving me a satisfying little buzz. I used to smoke all the time back in Europe, but ever since I had come back to the States, I had decided to quit.

  It was a stupid, disgusting habit. And in my rage it felt so fucking good to do something a little reckless. I wasn’t about to start smoking again, but one felt damn good.

  “I get it,” Brent said after a second.

  I leaned against the wall next to him. “You get what?”

  “Why you’re pissed.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Jess. She can be a real piece of shit sometimes.”

  I laughed, surprised. “Isn’t she your boss?”

  “Yeah, but whatever. It’s the truth.”

  I gave him a half smile, surprised. Brent was a nice enough guy, but he had been pretty quiet. I had to admit that I was surprised to hear him talking shit about Jess, especially to me.

  “I guess it is.”

  He laughed. “You guess? Come on. She films you working your ass off and looks at you like a zoo animal.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty fucking hot, and I’m pretty sure she’d put out for you in a second, but come on. She’s clinical.”

  “Clinical,” I repeated, grinning.

  “Yeah. Clinical. Like you’re this cadaver and she wants to dissect you or something.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “Never heard it put that way before.”

  “Just the way I see it, I guess.”

  I took a deep drag of the cigarette. “Well, you’re not wrong, man. Except about the putting out part.”

  “Oh, no. I’m pretty sure that’s the truest part.”

  I grinned at him. “Nah. I wouldn’t touch her with surgical gloves.”

  He laughed. “I don’t blame you. But personally, I would totally hate fuck her.”

  “That’d be like hate fucking a punching bag. For me, at least.”

  “Pretty hot punching bag at least.”

  I laughed again and finished off the cigarette, dropping it onto the ground and grinding it out with my heel.

  “Thanks for that, Brent.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I moved to go.

  “Oh, by the way,” he said. I looked back at him. “Your sister was looking for you.”

  “Stepsister,” I corrected automatically.

  “Yeah, whatever. Stepsister. Aubrie. She was looking for you.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She didn’t say. I think she’s upstairs somewhere.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Something wrong?”

  I shook my head, composing myself. “Nah. Thanks again.”

  “Sure. See you in there.”

  A stone appeared deep in my gut as I pushed the front door open and walked back inside. Aubrie had been looking for me, which was the first time she had tried to break the silence between us. Nervous, but ready for whatever she had, I moved upstairs.

  As I limped down the hallway, I suddenly knew exactly where she was going to be. It was fitting, in a way. If it was going to happen, it might as well happen there.

  If she was going to tell me we couldn’t do what I wanted so badly to do.

  I paused outside of the music room’s door and took a deep breath. I could already feel my cock slightly stiffen at the mere thought of being near her.

  I pushed open the door and grinned inside.

  Chapter Eleven: Aubrie

  His lips were soft but hard against mine, and his taste was exactly what I had always pictured it would be. Sweet and clean and gruff and more.

  The truth was, I should’ve ignored everything about it. I should’ve pretended like it never happened, like he hadn’t taken me in his arms and kissed me deeply, kissed me the way I had imagined it would be a hundred times. I should’ve pretended like it didn’t make me soaking wet to imagine his lips and his body near mine.

  Instead, I lay in my bed early in the morning, running my fingers over my swollen clit, thinking about him. I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t help it. He was everywhere in my mind, from the way his muscles flexed when he moved to his cocky grin and confidence to the way he carefully kept any signs of pain away from his expression.

  I wanted to feel his skin against mine. I wanted to feel his dick slip inside me. I wanted to hear him grunt and groan as he fucked me deep and hard.

  Instead, I settled for my own hand slowly rubbing my clit in careful circles. Pleasure wracked through my body as I pictured him holding my hands up above my head and kissing down my neck.

  I wanted to ride him until I couldn’t breathe.

  I wanted every inch of him inside me until there was nothing left but him and only him.

  I wanted to watch his face as he came, sweat dripping off our bodies, our hips moving in rhythm together, pleasure destroying everything and rebuilding it better.

  As I pictured his strong arms grabbing my hips, I came, my back arching and my legs kicking slightly.

  I came to the thought of fucking Lincoln.

  As it slowly subsided, I pulled my hand out of my underwear, frowning. I wasn’t satisfied, not even close, but it was better than nothing. I couldn’t let myself get too close to him. It was way too dangerous, especially with his level of fame and the cameras around him all the time. Frankly, I was afraid of him.

  I was afraid of how I felt about him. I was afraid of what that meant, both for him and for me.

  Finally, I climbed out of bed, washed my hands, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. I checked the time, making sure that Lincoln would be busy with PT, and went downstairs to have some breakfast.

  Carefully, I stayed away from the room where he was working out. I didn’t want to risk hearing him grunt with exertion; I knew from experience that it would lead to me fantasizing about him all afternoon, and I really didn’t want to do that again.

  I poured myself some cereal and
sat at the island. As I began to dig in, I heard a noise and looked up.

  “Morning, Aubrie,” Jules said.

  “Good morning, Jules.”

  She swept into the kitchen, all frilly clothes and flowing skirts, and grabbed a yogurt from the refrigerator. She leaned up against the island and smiled at me.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Fine, I guess. A little bored.”

  She laughed. “That’s perfect.”

  Inwardly, I sighed. “Why is my boredom perfect?”

  “I have a job for you.”

  I had been waiting for this. It was unlike Jules to go longer than a day without giving me some task, let alone five days. Those five days were probably my gift for working on the first event.

  “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  She smiled sheepishly. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

  “What, do I have to kill someone?”

  She laughed. “No, nothing like that. Not exactly anyway.”

  “Okay, you’re freaking me out. What’s the job?”

  “I need you to convince Lincoln to donate some signed memorabilia and to attend a charity auction.”

  I blinked at her. “Why do you need me to do that?”

  “You two seem to be getting pretty close. Everyone remarked at the last event how good of friends you two seemed.”

  I struggled to keep my expression neutral. “I guess we’ve been talking more, yeah.”

  “Well, he doesn’t listen to me, so I thought maybe you could help.”

  “He doesn’t exactly listen to me, either, Jules.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t. But could you try anyway?”

  She had no clue what she was asking of me. If she did, she’d probably scream and go running for the hills. Or at least she would shun me for being such a weirdo.

  “Okay, fine,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll try. But no promises.”

  “Great!” she said, perking up. “It’s going to be so good for the cause. He made such a splash at the last one.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, sure. Lincoln hasn’t exactly been out in public much since his injury. I think there are rumors that he had died or something silly.”