Ink

by Michaela Scott

  Contents

  Title

  Description

  Chapter 1: Haley

  Chapter 2: Jace

  Chapter 3: Haley

  Chapter 4: Haley

  Chapter 5: Haley

  Chapter 6: Jace

  Chapter 7: Haley

  Chapter 8: Jace

  Chapter 9: Haley

  Chapter 10: Haley

  Chapter 11: Haley

  Chapter 12: Haley

  Chapter 13: Jace

  Chapter 14: Haley

  Chapter 15: Haley

  Chapter 16: Haley

  Chapter 17: Jace

  Chapter 18: Haley

  Chapter 19: Haley

  Chapter 20: Jace

  Chapter 21: Haley

  Chapter 22: Jace

  Chapter 23: Haley

  Chapter 24: Haley

  Chapter 25: Haley

  Chapter 26: Haley

  Chapter 27: Jace

  Chapter 28: Haley

  Chapter 29: Haley

  Chapter 30: Jace

  Chapter 31: Haley

  Chapter 32: Haley

  Chapter 33: Haley

  Mailing List

  Excerpt From Screw You, Lover: An Enemies To Lovers Romance

  About The Author

  Ink: A Stepbrother Romance

  First Edition. June 23, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 Michaela Scott

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Everyone loves Jace Fisher, my inked-up billionaire stepbrother. I’m the only one who can see him for what he really is: an immature, arrogant toolbag with an ego bigger than his you-know-what.

  The summer we met, I wanted to smack him clean across the face most of the time, but when I found out what he really wanted to do to me, I packed up my stuff and left without even saying goodbye.

  Not because I didn’t want him. Because I was scared of how much I did.

  And now, Jace is back, and he’s all grown up. While I was working a minimum wage job on the other side of the country, he founded a startup. Made billions of dollars. Put the rest of our family up in luxury condos.

  Jace wants me to come back home and work for him. It’ll be the job of my dreams, he says. All I have to do is sign his contract. Play his dirty little games. Give him control.

  But it’s worth it, right? For the job of my dreams? As long as I don’t do something stupid, like actually jump into bed with my dirty-talking, immature, sex god stepbrother, I should be totally fine.

  So why am I terrified that’s exactly what I’m going to do?

  Chapter 1: Haley

  I smash my head between two pillows, hoping it’ll block the noise of the party outside.

  Jace Fisher has completely ruined my life.

  Ever since my dad married Laura, he’s basically moved into her apartment in Manhattan, leaving me alone out here in Connecticut with her son Jace, a foul-mouthed, immature bastard with the body of a Greek god who thinks playing stupid pranks on me is the funniest thing in the world.

  Until I had one for a stepbrother, I’d done a pretty good job of avoiding guys like Jace: cocky, arrogant jerks who think they’re god’s gift to the human race just because they have six-pack abs, gorgeous eyes, thick, perfect hair, and a face that can ruin a girl’s panties with just a look.

  Not mine, of course. I’m too busy trying to make it through this summer without murdering him, and he isn’t making it easy.

  First of all, he hits on all my friends. His favorite move is to come out of the shower wearing nothing but a tiny little towel and offer to cook us pancakes. Naturally, they’re all obsessed with him now, and they’ll make any excuse to come over to my place so they can make Bambi eyes at him. They won’t listen when I tell them that he’s the devil incarnate.

  Then, there’s the fact that he sleeps in my old playroom, the room right next to mine. This gives him access to basically my entire childhood, a fact which he loves to remind me of by leaving my old stuffed animals in naughty poses all around the house.

  Worst of all, though, is how he teases me, calling me his hot stepsister, flirting with me every chance he gets, twisting everything I say into vulgar sexual jokes. He loves to get under my skin, to make things awkward, to get me so flustered that all I can do is stomp back to my room and shut the door. He thinks that every girl who doesn’t immediately jump his stupid muscular bones is playing hard to get, which means that the more I try to convince him that I’d rather kayak down Niagara Falls than make out with him, the more aggressive his advances get.

  Things got even worse a few weeks ago, when Jace realized he could throw parties here and no one would care. Ever since, the house has been full of asshole guys and loud, obnoxious girls playing beer pong, blasting club music, and making out with each other until four in the morning. All night, every night. That’s what it feels like, anyway.

  Deciding to brave the party for a few seconds, I sneak into the kitchen for a glass of milk to help me sleep, but I can’t even do that without some meathead guy with a buzzcut cornering me and asking me to be on his beer pong team.

  “It’s strip pong,” he says, leering at my pajama-clad body, “But don’t worry, I’m not going to let anyone else see you naked.”

  “Hmm, I think I’ll pass. Milk and beer don’t go together very well.”

  “Then who needs milk?” The buzzcut guy grabs my glass of milk and pours it down the sink.

  Since I can’t slap this entire party in the face, I settle for just slapping him. It feels great, but when half the party stops dancing , turns around, and looks at me, I realize that it may not have been the smartest idea. I can’t see who anyone is in the dark, but I’m pretty sure half my graduating class is here tonight.

  Horribly embarrassed, I walk down the hall to my room and managed to keep my cool until I’m safe and shut up in my room. With a pillow over my face and tears of anger welling up in my eyes, I eventually drift off into an unhappy sleep.

  Once I’m asleep, I have the dream I’ve been having ever since graduation. It’s always the same. I’m attending some made-up college, and it’s completely awful. I don’t fit in there, I don’t like any of my fellow students, and they don’t like me.

  This isn’t a scary dream, but it usually wakes me up like a nightmare. This time, I sit bolt upright in bed and pull the covers off of my body. Jace is there, sitting on the edge of my bed.

  “Bad dream?”

  I nod. By now, I’m used to Jace coming into my room late at night after I have a bad dream. The first time he did it, I tried to kick him out, but there was something nice about having another person there, somebody who could tell me that everything was going to be okay. Jace might be a colossal douchebag every other hour of the day, but on nights like this, I’m really glad to have someone around who understands.

  “It’s not real,” he says, snuggling up to me and rubbing my shoulders, “None of it is real. Were you in college again?”

  “Yeah, and it was horrible.”

  “If you ever feel like that at a real college…leave. That’s all you have to do.”

  I nod sleepily, enjoying the feeling of Jace’s fingers massaging my tired muscles.

  “Do you want me to get you a glass of water?”

  “Is the party still going on?”

  “Nah,” says Jace, “It’s been over for hours. I kicked everyone out after that asshole wouldn’t leave you alone.”

  “Jace…you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes I did. No one treats my stepsister like that.”

  In the dim light of my dark room, I notice a trickle of blood running down the side of Jace’s neck.

  “Jace…” My hand reaches up to brush against a large cut behind his ear.
“You’re bleeding.”

  “Really? Still?” Jace reaches back to touch the cut, and his fingers come back bloody. “Oh shit, yeah, I guess I am. It’s not a big deal. He got one good punch in, and then I took care of him. The important thing is that you’re alright.”

  Jace guides me down onto my back and pulls the covers up around my neck. “Want me to stay here until you get back to sleep?” I nod, and Jace lies down with me, stretching his huge, muscly body up against mine. It feels good to use him like a giant, rock-hard pillow, snuggling up against him to keep the bad dreams away.

  If this were any other hour of the day, I’d assume that this was another one of his stupid come-ons, but something’s different about him when he comes into my room at night. I wonder if he has really bad dreams, and that’s why he takes mine so seriously. Whatever his reasons, nights like these might be the only time I’m actually happy to have him here. It’s really too bad that he’ll go right back to his usual annoying self tomorrow morning and act like this never happened.

  Jace must be able to feel me fidgeting around in bed, because after a few minutes, he reaches his thick arms around my body and pulls me into him to hold me still. “Relax,” he whispers, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  That’s when it happens. A warm little twinge between my legs. Dangerously close to a throb. My body can no longer ignore the perfect male torso pressed against it. That’s okay. Jace doesn’t have to know about that. It’ll just be my little secret. I turn my head towards Jace, tell him “Thank you,” give him a warm, sleepy smile and close my eyes.

  I wake up before the sun rises, feeling perfectly rested for absolutely no reason. Next to me, sitting on my pillow, there are two stuffed polar bears from my playroom, arranged into a very compromising position. A reminder that Jace was in here last night. Looks like everything’s back to normal.

  I need to thank him for last night, don’t I? He canceled an entire party because I was upset, took a punch for me, and then came into my room to make sure I was okay. I definitely need to thank him. It’s pretty early, though; the sun’s not even up yet. Maybe if I do it now, he’ll be too sleepy to rub it into my face or twist it into some kind of dirty joke about me.

  The door to his room is cracked slightly, so I push it open as quietly as I can and step inside.

  Jace is sleeping shirtless, with no blankets covering him from the waist up. I watch his chest rising and falling as I work up the courage to wake him up.

  He’s so peaceful when he’s sleeping.

  My eyes dart around Jace’s room, which is still painted two shades of pink from when it was my playroom. Other than adding a bed, the only change Jace made to the room was hanging up posters of bikini models leaning over the hoods of expensive cars. As I look from poster to poster, annoyed at Jace’s tacky choice of decor, my eyes fall onto the dresser right next to the door. It’s covered in college brochures, mostly unopened. I wonder if Jace wants to go to college. We haven’t talked about it, but he could definitely get into somewhere good……he may act like an idiot, but he was an honors student all through high school.

  There’s something strange underneath the envelopes, though. It looks like some kind of contract printed out on special paper. I wouldn’t have given it a second look if I didn’t see the words “my stepbrother” peeking out from under a brochure for MIT. Is this supposed to be some kind of contract for me?

  As sneakily as I can, I pull the thick legal paper of the contract out from under the college envelopes and began to read it.

  What. The. Hell.

  By signing this contract, I, _____________, agree to abide by the following rules while living with my stepbrother, Jace Fisher:

  My jaw drops as I read the list of things Jace wants me to do for him. It’s like his jokes about me doing all his chores taken to the extreme. There’s no getting around “my stepbrother, Jace Fisher” either…this contract is meant for me. And he wants me to do much, much more than make him lunch.

  *I will accompany my stepbrother to any party, gathering, or event he asks me to.

  *I will let my stepbrother pick out my outfits, giving him complete control over what I wear at home and what I wear when I leave the house.

  *I will sleep in my stepbrother’s bed.

  *I will ask my stepbrother’s permission whenever I want to hang out with a male friend.

  *I will ask my stepbrother’s permission before I hang out in a group that includes two or more men.

  Every rule makes my breath come faster and faster. Why would Jace draw up a contract like this? And why does he care about me hanging out with other guys? The rules continue onto the next page, and when I read them, I practically have a heart attack.

  *I will not touch myself without my stepbrother’s permission.

  *I will not tell my stepbrother’s mother, stepfather, or birth father about this contract.

  *Whenever my stepbrother gives me an order, I will follow it or accept the consequences.

  My whole body trembles as I read the rules again. He isn’t actually going to make me sign this, right? It’s just some kind of…sexual fantasy about me? I blush all over as I read the last couple of clauses a third time. My first instinct is to just tear the whole contract to pieces, but if I do, Jace will know that I’ve seen it. Watching Jace’s calm, sleeping face for any signs of movement, I try to slide the contract back under the college envelopes.

  Bad idea. The sliding paper pushes half of the envelopes off of the opposite side of the dresser, creating a mini avalanche of crumpling paper that makes me freeze in my tracks.

  “Haley?” Jace asks, pushing himself off of the mattress with his elbows. When he sees that I’m holding his contract, he makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a little yelp.

  “What is this?” I ask him, holding up the contract and sending the rest of the college brochures tumbling to the floor.

  “Uh…yeah…I can explain that,” he says, “It’s not what it looks like…”

  “How could it not be what it looks like?” I ask, “It seems pretty clear to me.”

  I need to get out of Jace’s room. I drop the contact down on Jace’s dresser, and then hurry into the living room, where beer bottles and plastic cups still litter the floor from last night’s party. I head for the front door, but Jace catches up to me, twisting me into a tight embrace.

  “You weren’t supposed to see that, Haley,” he says, “That was just……something I made. I was just…”

  Jace pulls away, looking into my eyes and brushing the hair out of my face. Then, he gives me this look…like he wants to kiss me…

  This is so wrong! It’s insanely wrong! The only problem is…it doesn’t feel wrong. The warm little twinge from last night is back, only this time, it’s ten times stronger, a throbbing inferno between my legs.

  Jace notices the look in my eyes and smirks. Slowly but surely, he brings his face closer to mine, until our lips are less than an inch apart. I close my eyes, ready to receive his forbidden kiss…but I can’t. Maybe if I hadn’t found that contract, things would have been different, but all I can think about is that last clause. The one about having to obey Jace’s every command…

  “We can’t,” I say, pushing away at the last second and heading out the door into the front yard.

  Now, I’m just head down the street in my pajamas, not walking anywhere in particular. Jace doesn’t follow me out of the house, so I keep walking until I reach the end of our street. I lean against a stop sign and watch the sun inching above the horizon.

  What the hell was that? Up until now, I assumed that Jace’s flirting was all just a joke, a way to make me feel awkward, but clearly, I’ve been in denial. How can I go back to living one room away my stepbrother after finding something like that and then almost kissing him? In an empty house with just the two of us? He’ll either tease me for the rest of my life, or…try to kiss me again. And next time, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to tell my body what a stupid id
ea that would be.

  It’d be one thing if I didn’t care about him. Then, I could definitely walk back in there, rip up his little contract, and tell him to stay out of my life. That would be easy.

  The truth is so much harder. The truth is that as I stood there in Jace’s room, standing over his shirtless body and imagining myself contractually bound to follow his orders…I didn’t want to tear it up. I wanted to sign it. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?

  Chapter 2: Jace

  Four Years Later

  I knock on the door to Haley’s apartment. No answer. Shit. I guess I could text her, but I’d rather not do that if I don’t have to. I don’t know how she’s going to react to seeing me again after four years of living on the other side of the country, and I’d rather see her in person.

  I knock again, looking directly into the peephole and flashing the same smile that that I use to get a girl’s panties off in two seconds and convince investors to drop millions of dollars on projects they’ve never heard of before. I’m hoping it can also get me inside this tiny little apartment in the middle of San Diego.

  You’d better not be hiding from me, Haley. Not after I flew all this way to see you.

  The door opens, and a girl I’ve never seen before opens the door. She’s not Haley, but she’s pretty fucking cute: curly blonde hair that twists down to her shoulders and a knockout body. She looks at me like she wants me to pick her up and carry her back into her bedroom.

  “Is Haley here?” I ask her.

  “Oh! Uh…no,” She’s so into me she can barely hide it. She bites the corner of her lip and looks down between my legs for just a second. “She’s…downtown. You’re Jace, right?”

  I nod, giving the poor girl the slightest hint of a smile, and for a second, it looks like she’s literally about to start drooling. I’m used to this kind of shit from women, but it never stops being awesome.

  “Okay, well… hopefully she’ll be back in a few hours. Want to come in and wait?”