BRIX: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (A Rebels Havoc Book 1)

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BRIX: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (A Rebels Havoc Book 1) Page 10

by Brooke O'Brien


  I’m in love with Brix’s truck. It reminds me of something my grandpa drove when I was younger. It’s an older Chevy, all black with black rims, lowered to the ground. It’s exactly what I would picture Brix driving, too.

  He opens the door, and I let go of his hand, moving to climb in when he pulls me back, catching me off guard.

  “I don’t think so.” He grins, pushing me up against the side of the truck, leaning in to kiss me.

  When our lips connect, I slide my hand up his chest and wrap it around his neck, holding him to me. Not caring who could possibly see us, I give into the feel of his body pressed against me and the taste of his mouth on mine.

  Our tongues tangle, his body rocking against mine. His hands holding my face, not shying away from taking what he wants.

  When he pulls back, he brushes his mouth against my ear, whispering, “You taste so good, Ivy.”

  His words drip with desire, and I know he’s not talking about right now. He’s remembering our first night, and I can’t help but remember the way he tasted then, too.

  My hands grip his forearms, trying to hold myself steady.

  “Get in before I change my mind and fuck you right here in this parking lot.”

  “Fuck,” he mutters, when I let out a small moan, pausing to adjust himself before shutting the door behind me.

  When he shoves the keys in the ignition and pulls out of his spot, I don’t bother asking again where he’s taking me, but it’s clear he isn’t going for an aimless drive. He has a destination in mind. With the cloud of desire still hanging over us, I sit back and enjoy the ride.

  “It’s a little too late for a swim, don’t you think?” I mention when he turns the truck onto the road leading us down near Carolina Beach.

  “Even if that’s what we were doing, I wouldn’t be looking to just swim anyway.”

  Picturing the two of us skinny dipping in the ocean has me folding my legs, desperately seeking some friction at the mere thought.

  He pulls his truck up along the beach. The typical crowd filling the boardwalk is missing, leaving only the midnight sky twinkling overhead.

  He puts the truck in park, leaving it on and adjusting the music to a playlist.

  “I want to say I’m sorry for earlier. It’s been a shitty few days. I’m guessing you’re probably wondering where I was and why I didn’t come home. I want you to know it’s not what you probably think.”

  “I didn’t know what to think, honestly.”

  “Well, I knew you had to have noticed I was gone when you woke up. I wanted to text you, but I didn’t know what to say or how much to tell you. I had a lot of shit going on.”

  “You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, whatever you need. You can tell me.”

  He tilts his head back against the headrest, turning to face me. His eyes fall on my lips, staring at my mouth.

  “It was my mom,” he murmurs. I don’t bother to tell him I reached out to Kyla and asked her to talk to Madden. I don’t push him to explain further. I give him the time to collect his thoughts and tell me whatever’s on his mind.

  “She has an alcohol problem, has for years. The last time this happened, she had passed out in her car outside the bar when the owner found her. She at least had half a mind not to drive home. She decided to sleep it off in the front seat of her piece of shit car. That was probably the worst I’ve ever seen her.” He pauses, staring out through the windshield, lost in thought.

  “Anyway, this wasn’t the first time something like this has happened. She’s woken up in places and not remembered how she got there or even where her car was. I picked her up that day and immediately took her to the hospital. I was fed up, ya know? I told her she needed to be admitted, it was time for her to get some help.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you, but it’s what she needed.”

  “Well, I wish I could say it helped. When she got out, she was mad. She didn’t stay sober for long. She pushed me away and stopped talking to me. My uncle Travis called, told me he found her passed out again. This time I was going to help her through her detox, and when she was done, I was giving her a choice. She either got the help she needed, once and for all, or I was walking away.”

  “I’m sorry, Brix.”

  Unbuckling the seat belt, I slide across the seat closer to him. There’s not much room for us, but he welcomes me, pulling my legs over his, draping them over his lap.

  Silence fills the space around us, as he runs his hand up my thigh.

  “Your skin is so soft,” he says, changing the subject.

  He stares up at me under his dark eyelashes.

  Covering my hand with his, he continues, “Anyway, it took a lot of fighting and arguing with her. She was livid when she found out we went through her house and threw out all her alcohol. She had nothing left. She called me all sorts of names, told me I was a piece of shit, but in the end, she agreed.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, tipping his head back against the headrest once again.

  “I can’t believe she’d say that to you.”

  “She’s not wrong, though.”

  “What?” I grab his chin in my hand, forcing him to face me.

  “C’mon, Ivy. Be honest. I’m a fuckin’ prick. I do and say shit without even caring about the consequences or how it hurts people. Look at how I’ve treated you. For years, YEARS, I’ve treated you like garbage. Don’t sit here and tell me I’m wrong when we both know that’s a load of bullshit.”

  “You’re right.”

  Holding his hand out, as if saying “thank you” for agreeing with him.

  “You do and say things without thinking it through, but it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

  “How can you say or believe that, Ivy? How can you even sit here with me right now? I don’t even get it.”

  “Brix, tell me why. Why did you treat me the way you did?”

  “I told you…” he starts, but I cut him off.

  “No, I don’t want to hear some bullshit response about you being a piece of shit or calling yourself a prick. Tell me the truth. Why did you treat me that way?”

  “You want to know the honest to God truth?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Do you remember the day I saw you in the hallway outside Principal Taylor’s office?”

  My eyes narrow, not remembering what he’s talking about. He picks up on my confusion and continues, filling in the blanks.

  “I had stormed out of his office. I was upset, shoving shit from my locker into my bag, ready to leave school, when you approached me. You didn’t have a clue what you had walked into, but you stopped anyway and asked if I was okay.”

  The dots start to connect. He had been swearing under his breath, tears filling his eyes when I stopped him and asked if he was alright.

  “My parents had separated three months before. My mom, who always had a problem with drinking, started to get worse when my father filed for divorce. He said it was for ‘irreconcilable differences,’ but what he really meant was my mom is a drunk, and he had turned to getting his rocks off with his assistant.”

  “Oh, God.” I cover my mouth.

  I knew Brix was pissed at his dad for getting married again after his comment about getting a prenup. Of course, he would want his parents to be together, but his anger makes more sense now.

  He looks down, his arm sitting on top of my knee with his hand clenched around the bottom of the steering wheel.

  “I’m sorry, Ivy, I don’t think it’s going to last with them either. This is who he is. He gets bored in one relationship and finds his way onto the next one. He couldn’t be monogamous to save his life.”

  He scoffs, rolling his eyes as it turns from a laugh to a growl, clearly annoyed talking about it.

  “Anyway, the day outside the principal’s office, you saw me walking out. I was pissed off to the point I was damn near tears. I had seen you around, but up until that point, we hadn’t spoken. Of course, I noticed you
, I mean, fuck, how could I not?”

  The way he said it, I’m surprised. What does he mean he noticed me? He sounds frustrated at the admission, but not in the same way it was talking about his dad’s promiscuity.

  “Brix,” I whisper, reaching for his chin once again, turning him to look at me. “What does that mean?”

  “It means every time I saw you, I thought about how beautiful you looked. How kind you always had been to everyone around you. You were shy, that much was certain. You kept to yourself, but that day, you weren’t. You stopped at my locker, seeing I was upset, and you asked me if I was okay. Fuck, Ivy. I was so fucking mean. I remember the look on your face, the shock hit your eyes. I felt like the biggest asshole in the world, but it was like I felt the need to warn you. To convince you there was nothing good in me that deserved you or your kindness. So, I pushed you away in the only way I knew how. I took my hurt and threw it back at you, thinking it would somehow help me feel better about my shitty life.”

  Tears fill the brim of my eyes, pressing my lips into a firm line, I try to hold it all together.

  He’s right. He was a jerk, and I never quite understood why. I tried to stay away from him after that day, but it was like life had its way of throwing us back together.

  “You didn’t deserve it, Ivy. Not one bit, just like I don’t deserve to be sitting here with you now.”

  I reach my hand out for his. It’s still fixed around the bottom of the steering wheel, white-knuckled against the leather. His forearm flexes and I trace my fingers over every ridge lining his muscles. As soon as my fingers find his, he releases his hold turning his hand over, wrapping his fingers in mine. I can’t help but feel like he’s releasing everything he’s held back from me, giving into me now.

  “I forgive you,” I murmur, leaning to rest my head on his shoulder.

  “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but like the asshole I am, I’m going to take it. I’m going to take you and hold onto you. I don’t want to let you go.”

  Sixteen

  Brix

  Pulling in front of the house, I spot Ivy’s car parked in the driveway, relieved to see she’s home. All afternoon at band practice, I couldn’t get her off my mind.

  On my way back, I got this idea to take her out on a date, which is something I’ve never done. Sure, I’ve hung out with women but not with the same intentions as I have with Ivy.

  After the night down by the beach, things have begun to shift between us. A part of me wants to hit stop, pull out and run, but I don’t.

  Walking through the door, I search for any sign of her in the kitchen or dining room. I’m about to yell her name up the stairs when I step into the living room to find her curled up on the couch with a blanket pulled over her.

  It wasn’t long ago she found me passed out in the same place. To think how much has changed since that day compared to where we are now.

  Our parents are still gone on their honeymoon. They’re supposed to fly in tomorrow afternoon, which means it’s our last night alone without them dropping in for God knows how long.

  Kneeling next to her, I lean in to press a kiss against her lips. Her scent engulfs me, her hair smelling like strawberries mixed with something uniquely Ivy.

  For a second, I consider waking her up in some bullshit romantic way, like kissing her on her lips and whispering something like, “wake up beautiful.”

  She chooses that moment to roll over onto her back, moving the blanket off her in the process. Her tank top is pulled up, exposing her tan stomach. Her shorts are rolled at the waist, making them even shorter than they already are. Her leg is bent, and all I can think about is how likely I’d be able to peel them off and taste her again without waking her right away.

  Running my hand over her stomach, my eyes bounce from her face to where my hand is moving down toward her hip to the apex of her thigh. She moans slightly, and I pause, waiting for her to open her eyes and catch me. When she stops, I continue my way down, reaching the edge of her shorts. I feel her heat through the cotton of her shorts, and I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning, gliding my finger along her inner thigh up toward her pussy.

  It doesn’t take me long to discover she’s not wearing any panties. The urge to wake her, bend her over my lap, and smack her ass consumes me until my finger slides over her folds into her warm, wet pussy.

  “Motherfucker,” I mutter, tracing my finger along her opening.

  She moans again, widening her legs more. “Actually, wouldn’t that make me a brother fucker?”

  “Get your ass up, now.”

  She grins, adjusting her shirt when she moves to sit up. “Don’t even dare,” I murmur, stopping her from pulling it back down, “in fact, take that shit off. Now.”

  This time, the words are much more pointed. Stern.

  “Yes, sir.” She giggles, standing in front of me while I recline back on the couch, watching her.

  I’m not even surprised when I find not only is she not wearing underwear, she’s also without a bra, too. She looks like a fucking dream.

  Her breasts jiggle as she pulls the top over her head, tossing the shirt back at me, hitting me in the face.

  I’m unamused, reaching to pull the shirt away to find her with her hands on her hips, grabbing for the waistband of her pants, waiting for further instruction.

  I motion with my finger to drop them, too. She licks her lips, excitement lighting her face when she slides them down her legs. I’m starting to wonder if she planned this shit when she props her leg on the cushion next to me, teasing me with her pussy.

  “Now what, sir.”

  “Turn,” I command. She bites down on her lip but does as I say, turning until her back faces me.

  Her ass, fuck me, that ass looks so fucking good. I’m starting to run through all the ways I could take her right here and now when she does something that takes me by utter surprise.

  Bending over, she presses her hands against the oak coffee table and spreads her legs open for me. She glances over her shoulder, a devilish grin lining her mouth.

  I don’t even hesitate as I scoot close to her, reaching out to grab her ass cheek in my hand, spreading them before smacking her skin. The loud slap echoes around the room as she pushes her ass back toward me.

  With both hands gripping her ass, I lean forward and trace the tip of my tongue from her clit all the way up to her hole.

  “Holyyyy fuck,” she groans.

  Dipping my tongue into her pussy, I fuck her like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. She tosses her head back, her long, brown hair fanning over her while I hold her against me. My tongue alternates between fucking her to flicking over her clit. With each stroke, she grinds against me, seeking more, wanting more.

  Pulling back, I run my finger along her folds, mimicking the same motion before entering her. I give her exactly what she wants, her body rocking against me, her breathy moans filling my ears, urging me on.

  I’m so turned on, I’m damn near busting through my fucking shorts. Falling back, my hands are on my zipper, making quick work of pulling down my pants.

  “Get the fuck over here. Now.”

  She smiles, her cheeks rosy, clearly enjoying being told what to do. Wrapping my hand around the base of my cock, I hold my dick out for her as she kneels on the floor in front of me.

  She’s obviously not worried about my piercing anymore when the tip of my dick hits the back of her throat. My fingers tangle in her hair as she moves back down, gagging when she takes me deep.

  “Fuck, baby.”

  She moans with every thrust; her hand moves over me, covering my own.

  “C’mere,” I growl, as she moves to climb on top of me.

  Reaching up, I grab her breast in my hand, taking her nipple and sucking it into my mouth while I squeeze the other. Releasing it with a pop, she positions herself above me before sinking down, taking all of me until she’s pressed to the hilt.

  “God damn. You feel so fucking good.”

&nbs
p; My fingers dig into her hips as her arm snakes around my neck. I continue my assault on her nipple while she works her pussy over me. With each slow ascend, she follows it through with a fast and deep descend until I’m panting with how much I want her. She rotates her hips, driving me fucking wild with need.

  “Dear God, Ivy, the things I dream of doing to you would make the devil blush.”

  Her movements turn urgent, and I do my best to hold on. Slipping my thumb down between us, I brush my finger over her clit, watching as she tosses her head back. Feeling her pussy clench around me brings me to the edge.

  “More, more, more,” she chants over me. Pressing my thumb down, I change my movements to throw her off, and her body starts to tremble. I’m so far gone at this point.

  She collapses against me, her arms wrapping around my neck, while the aftershocks rake through her body. When she’s finished, her body melts into mine. Goose bumps spread out over her skin, so I reach out for her blanket and pull it over us.

  “You like to act like this sweet side of you is new and foreign, but you’re pretty good at it, ya know?”

  “Only with you.”

  She pulls back, her hand against my cheek as she presses a soft kiss on my lips, and I let her. I’m in over my head now. I’d give her anything she wants at this point.

  “Speaking of romantic shit, I was going to ask if you wanted to go out tonight.”

  “Like a date?” She grins.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Sure?”

  “I mean, yes.”

  She laughs. “Who would’ve thought, Brix Ward, asking me out on a date?”

  “You want me to smack your ass again?”

  “Maybe.” She smiles, rotating her hips to push her ass further into my hands.

  “You’re not helping right now.” The movement causes her pussy to rub against me again.

  She leans away from me, holding her hand up, feigning innocence.

  “I’m sorry, am I the one doing something wrong here?” Just as she says the word “wrong,” she rocks back over me. Reaching out, I grab her breast in my hand, pinching her nipple as desire glosses over her eyes.

 

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