Stepbrothers Undone: 15 Book Hot Erotic Stepbrother Romance Bundle (Excite Spice Boxed Sets)

by Selena Kitt

  “Do not do that,” he said. His voice was a razor.

  He clicked the phone off and dropped it back to the table. It caught a plate’s edge on the way down and clanged to a stop.

  The other patrons looked over. Their stares felt like accusations. Like we had done something unspeakably wrong, horribly immoral, and the townsfolk had gathered to judge and punish us. They’d decided on guilty. Guilty deserving punishment.

  It was a phone people.

  Relax.

  “You okay,” I asked.

  “Huh,” he said and looked up. “Oh, yea it’s fine.”

  He shook his head and let out a big exhale.

  What was that all about?

  I raised my glass to him. To bring his mind back.

  “To us,” I said. “Jake and Jules. Stepbrother and stepsister.”

  We tapped the rims together and took a sip of the delicious, deep red liquid.

  “I knew you’d come around,” he said.

  “In your dreams,” I said.

  “So now you’re in my dreams,” he asked.

  “I knew you’d come around,” I said.

  “Touché,” he said with a laugh.

  I giggled. One of those giggles that starts well and ends up all wrong. Like you’re a choking pig or something.

  What?

  It was fun.

  And I was kind of drunk.

  And there he was.

  On my birthday.

  Maybe it was the buzz talking, but the world felt limitless. No rules. No regrets.

  It was my birthday after all.

  In Paris.

  At the best restaurant on the planet.

  With my hot not-yet-stepbrother.

  He could have been anyone. Any gorgeous man that I’d just met and fallen madly in love with. He could have been that.

  If the world had any sense of justice.

  “Happy birthday, to the most beautiful stepsister I’ve ever had,” he said.

  “You’ve never had a stepsister,” I said.

  “True,” he said and winked.

  He was so hard to read.

  I took another sip of the port. It was sweet. Really sweet. Like dessert in a glass. It was good. The warm buzz way back in my brain rolled outward, engulfing the critical thinking parts of my brain.

  Good riddance.

  “Jake, you know you’re right,” I said.

  “I get that a lot,” he said.

  “Haha,” I said, “I mean it. Nineteen is a big deal. I mean, I’m a woman now. I’ve got the body of a woman now.”

  Should I have said that?

  It was ridiculous to say out loud. But it was true. I needed him to know that.

  He glanced down at my dress and his eyes locked onto my ample cleavage an instant before he yanked them away.

  I caught that instant.

  I leaned forward over the table. My full bosom nearly spilled out of the low cut dress.

  His eyes dropped back down. Let him have his fill. I wanted to give him more. All the ambiguity left me. All the maybes and kindas.

  I wanted him.

  I wanted him to be my first.

  I didn’t care what my prude, reasonable brain screamed. The alcohol did a fine job of muffling its accusations.

  I wanted him tonight.

  I didn’t want to be a virgin at the age of nineteen plus one day.

  I hoped all the care I put into preparing for the evening made an impression. I never dressed like this in real life.

  A simple, sexy white dress. It didn’t reveal too much. I just wasn’t that kind of girl. But I was all for hints. It clung to my full waist and supported me just right. I had a heaping helping of handfuls up top and the dress did its best to restrain them. I was happy it only partially succeeded. It was cut short at the thigh, but not slutty short.

  I’d taken my long, straight dark brown hair and wrapped it up into a fancy bun. The sophisticated, Paris kind. It took forever getting ready that evening.

  Jake cleared his throat and pulled his eyes away again.

  “Uhh, yep,” he said, “you are definitely mature for nineteen.”

  His voice cracked. It was the first time I’d seen look awkward. Ill at ease.

  I liked the effect I had on him.

  He looked at his watch.

  “It’s almost midnight and I’m beyond full,” he said. “We have one more stop to make before calling it a night.”

  That sounded great to me. I didn’t want the night to ever end.

  “Did you clear it with my dad,” I asked. “He doesn’t let me stay out after midnight.”

  I smiled and folded my arms together, in that way that totally makes my boobs look even bigger than they already are.

  “We’ll just have to keep this a secret then,” he said.

  What did he mean by this?

  “Come on,” he said. “Finish up. I’ve got a special surprise for you. A special birthday gift for my little sis.”

  For me? He had a surprise for me? Like all of this wasn’t already overwhelming enough?

  A growing part of me wanted to give him a surprise too.

  “More special than all of this,” I asked.

  I couldn’t imagine what would top this. Well, I could imagine one thing but there was no way he was thinking that too.

  Was he?

  He laughed and took a sip from his glass.

  “You’ll be the judge,” he said, “I the simple tour guide.”

  “I know you well enough to know you’re anything but simple,” I said. “Do I get to guess?”

  “You can guess all you want,” he said, “but I’m not telling.”

  He motioned for the check and then finished his glass. The waiter brought the bill. I peeked at it and the whole thing, with tip, was over 1500 Euros! That was insane. In dollars, what was that? $3000 or so?

  I guess you didn’t get on the fancy Fortune list for nothing.

  He rose and pulled my chair back. As I stood, I caught a glimpse of him lasering down the front of my dress.

  Perfect.

  I slid my bottom against him as I turned, trying to make it seem like an accident. His manhood warmed my backside. His body shuddered.

  Contact.

  He stepped back to get my red scarf. The one I’d picked up earlier in the day. Everyone wore scarves in Paris. It was like the law or something. I slung it around my neck and over my shoulders. The bright red hue popped against my white dress.

  That and the tiny purse that held my lip gloss was all I needed for the evening.

  Not all I needed.

  The other patrons stared as we walked out. Let them look. They probably thought I was his latest hot fling. I hoped they thought that.

  Because if they thought it, that meant it wasn’t crazy. That meant I wasn’t crazy for thinking someone like him could be attracted to someone like me.

  Right?

  Chapter Four

  We took his limo through the buzzing, busy streets. Paris was still so alive at this hour. It was dark in the back seat. Flashes of bright lights swept over our little nook as we drove. My already short dress pulled further up my thighs. I scooted a little lower so the dress rode up higher. A flash of light went by and I saw my white lace panties peak out from underneath.

  Good.

  Another flash of light.

  I saw just a hint of my pussy lips underneath.

  Perfect.

  I rested my head on Jake’s shoulder. He smelled fresh and clean. Like a forest after the rain. He rubbed my head.

  “Too much to drink,” he asked.

  “Maybe not enough,” I said.

  I wished his hand would go lower. I tried so hard with my mind to make his hand go lower. To go down the front of my dress. To cup my breasts. To rip my dress down and fondle my nipples. To force his hand lower, force his fingers inside my panties.

  Inside my pussy.

  A dampness blossomed between my legs. Fire sparked in my belly.

&
nbsp; Was he thinking of me in the same way?

  He certainly took a couple of good looks over the course of the evening. More as the wine glasses piled up. But he’d never even acted like I was a girl before. Then again, he’d always had a bony, blonde bimbo to distract him.

  I hated thinking about that. Thinking about someone else with him. Thinking about how I was so not his type.

  Was this just a drunk girl’s birthday dream?

  We entered the roundabout that encircles the Arc De Triomphe. Our driver sped around like he was in formula one race. I slid over into Jake as he held himself stable against the door.

  Jake laughed.

  “Antonio dreams of beating Andretti,” he said.

  We peeled off at our exit and I tossed my leg over his. Like it was the fault of the car throwing me around. I held it perfectly still, hoping he wouldn’t push me away. He scooted back in his seat a little, but didn’t pull away.

  I slid my leg up against his, until my knee grazed the stiff bulge in his pants. God, he was so hard.

  So hard for me!

  He coughed and scooted my leg off.

  Too aggressive. But I didn’t have all night!

  He looked out the window.

  “Antonio, drop us on the west side,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” the driver said.

  Jake pointed out the window.

  I looked up and there it was. The Eiffel Tower. It was unbelievable. Way taller than I ever imagined.

  We pulled up under some glaring street lights. I noticed my panties and the pussy lips behind them still peeking out from under my hiked-up dress.

  “Oh no,” I said, “is that a wine stain?” I picked at a spot at the hem of my dress.

  Jake looked down and a trembled raced through his body. He’d seen me. He’d seen that private part of me. It was a dirty trick making him look there. I felt guilty. But good too.

  More good than guilty.

  He cleared his throat and opened the door. He helped me out and watched as I pulled my dress back into place.

  “Wait here,” he said to the driver, “We won’t be long.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  The tower was like an enormous erection jutting up into the sky. It was totally beautiful. Totally overwhelming. People lingered everywhere on the green grass surrounding it. Couples at benches here and there lost in each other’s embrace.

  We walked under an enormous arch of thick iron beams. It was magnificent. I wanted to go all the way to the top. To see Paris from the top of the world. To see it with him.

  But the ticket counter was just closing up. It was past midnight.

  “We’re too late,” I said, “figures my luck wouldn’t hold.”

  “We don’t require luck,” he said. He took my hand. “Come.”

  I stumbled in my tall white heels. They weren’t made for moving fast. On the other hand, that’s exactly what they were made for.

  We got to the elevator just as a load of people piled out. It was a shoulder to shoulder mass exodus of bodies. Most of them had euphoric smiles on their faces.

  Great.

  That should’ve been my face. Jake’s face. But now we were going to miss it. To be so close and have it out of reach was heartbreaking. It would have been so perfect.

  Tears welled up in my eyes.

  Hold it together!

  This was so ridiculous. I was such a baby. It’s just that it was my nineteenth birthday and I wanted it to be perfect. And it was going so well.

  Until this.

  Jake approached the security guard at the elevator. He was an older man with white hair. The guard ushered out the last of the people and closed the doors.

  “Francois, bonne soiree, comment estes-vous,” he said.

  His French sounded so, well, French!

  The security guard looked up and his eyes brightened.

  “Mr. MacCormack,” he said, “always such a pleasure to see you.”

  His English was hidden under a thick crust of French accent. He looked me up and down.

  “A special ride to the top,” he said.

  “Not tonight,” Jake said. “This is my sister, Julia. Julia, Francois.”

  He tottered over and then leaned forward and kissed me on each cheek.

  “Any family of Mr. MacCormack’s is family of mine,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I said, “You’re too kind.”

  He waved me off.

  “Ce n’est rien,” he said.

  Jake smiled, obviously pleased at how Francois took to me.

  “Mind if we take a quick trip up,” he asked.

  “Mr. MacCormack,” he said, “you know the tower is always open to you.”

  Jake was already pulling me into the open elevator lift. I guessed he already knew the answer.

  “Today is my sister’s birthday. There is just one thing left that she must do, and that is to see this beautiful city from the most beautiful place in it. From the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

  “You are right as always,” the guard said as he bowed.

  Jake wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in close.

  “You’re in for a treat,” he said. “There’s nothing like your first time on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  The guard joined us in the lift and tapped the button for the second level. The doors closed and I noticed him checking me out from the corner of his eyes.

  He wasn’t the only one. I caught Jake getting an eyeful of his own.

  His slick dress pants had a noticeable bulge in just the right spot. I definitely had his attention, whether he wanted to give it or not.

  The elevator started up through the iron grid work. It was a dream come true. So close to my every dream coming true.

  We moved up through huge, riveted girders. The complexity of the metal weaving in and out looked like lace. Lights shined through and gave it an impossibly intricate texture. Impossible that mankind could have built it.

  We went up and up. Ascended into heaven.

  The lights of Paris spread out before us. The twinkling magic of the sexiest city in the world.

  Now I just had to get rid of this security guy.

  The elevator dinged as we arrived at the second level. It stopped and the doors opened. Wind whipped through the ironworks. Warm gusts on a late summer night.

  The guard led us to another, smaller elevator. Apparently the one that took us the rest of the way to the top.

  He sorted through his keys, found the right one, and turned the power back on. He opened the doors and gestured inside.

  “Si vous plait,” he said.

  This was it.

  He was super nice and sweet, but I didn’t want him going up with us. That would ruin any chance at what might happen.

  I had to think of something.

  The most confused feelings rolled through my body. Of being the predator while also being the prey. Trapped by my desire for this man who would soon be my stepbrother. My stomach flitted around on butterfly wings.

  Then I thought of something.

  “After you, Jake,” I said, all fancy like I was making a big production of it.

  “Very kind of you, Jules,” he said.

  He laughed and stepped inside.

  And that’s when I made my move.

  I loosened the scarf around my neck and let the wind catch it. It didn’t need much help. The wind snatched it and whipped it through the air into a corner twenty feet away.

  “Oh no,” I said, “my scarf.”

  The distress in my voice didn’t sound manufactured, did it?

  The guard flung his hands into the air and rushed off to retrieve it.

  I stepped into the elevator, smiled at Jake, and punched the button for the top floor.

  Chapter Five