Bad Boy Stepbrother

Bad Boy Stepbrother

Sybil Ling

Copyright © 2015 Sybil Ling

Bad Boy Stepbrother

By Sybil Ling

All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be
reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of
the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or
dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are
all products of the author’s imagination.

Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of
18. All characters represented as 18 or older. All sexual relationships
depicted are between adults who are not blood relatives.

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“Late for school,” Mom
screamed from the bottom of the stairs.
 
Didn’t
she get tired of saying the same thing every single day?
 
Yep, I was late. Guess what, I didn’t
care.
 
Shane cared even less.
 
He probably wouldn’t even make it past the
school gates.
 
The only times he went in were
when he had practice or a game.
 
The rest
of the time, he didn’t think it was important to show up.
 
What a loser!

If we went at the
same time, he’d just go on about me being a loser and it’s not fun to hang out
with him and his friends. They talk about having sex with me.
 
That’s all those jerks did.
 
Talk about either my big boobs or butt.
 
Every time I go past one of them when they
come to visit, aka steal some booze from Mom or Dad, that’s all they talk
about.
 
“Jess, come sit with us and have
some fun riding one of our dicks!”

Jerks.

Then again, Shane has
turned into more of a jerk these days, especially when I caught him on the
phone.
 
He didn’t like it.
 
I thought he was on the phone with one of his
cheerleader groupies.
 
They’re so damn
sad.
 
I mean, sure he was sexy like Enrique
Iglesias.
 
That is what they all called
him at West Down High. Enrique’s twin brother.
 
But one thing about Shane was he could sing, and he loved dancing and
showing off his sultry voice.
 
Anyway, he
had issues.
 
I was so lost in my thoughts
that I didn’t hear him come in my room and slap me on the butt.
 
Yep, he was my brother.
 
You wouldn’t think it the way he just came in
my room unannounced and was too friendly with his hands sometimes. It really ticks
me off.

“Hey, what you
thinking about? You coming or what, sis?”

Number one, I wasn’t
his sis.
 
We were both adopted, the thing
is I was adopted before him.
 
I only
found out years later.
 
He was adopted
when he was eight.
 
He came to live with
us, and it was great until recently.
 
That was when he started acting like a real jerk.
 
Winding me up and annoying me all the
time.
 
He changed three months ago.
 
I was still trying to figure out why, but we
just didn’t speak.
 
How do you hold a
conversation with someone who is either high or drunk most of the time?
 
I left my door open and was just about to get
my backpack.
 
I turned to face him and stuck
my tongue out.
 
I know, childish, but he
just wound me up.

“Don’t do that. I
hate it when you do that.”

I sounded like a
whining teenager.
 
That’s because he got
under my skin.

“Get ready. We’ll be
late.”

“Seriously?” Why did
he even pretend? What was up with Mom? Didn’t she know he never went? Why did
everyone excuse all the crap he did?
 
I
stuffed my books in my backpack.
 
I
wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about us being late. He was never on
time.
 
I was just about to ask him that,
but then he left the room.
 
I could hear
mom screaming my name, “Jessica, you’ll be late again.”

It was the final week
of school. It felt pointless even going in, let alone taking books.
 
I walked down the steps with both Mom and
Shane waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.
 
They had the biggest grins on their
faces.
 
I knew they were up to
something.
 

“So, you have a good
day, Jess.” Mom kissed me on the cheek as I walked out of the door with
Shane.
 
He had one arm around my
waist.
 
I hated the way he was acting so
friendly.
 

As Mom shut the front
door and we got to the end of the drive, he said, “Have a good day, sis.” Then he
kissed me on the forehead like a child.
 
I wished he would stop calling me that, and God knows how he got to graduate.
 
The boy never went to school.
 
I knew he wanted something; he was probably using
me as an excuse to skip school.
 
I wished
he would just skip out of our lives too.

“What’s up, Jess?”
Mandy asked as I approached the school gates.
 
Mom and Dad refused to get me a car, so I was still taking the school
bus.
 
Sure, I could walk, but with the
summer heat in Cali, I preferred to take the bus.
 
At least it had A/C.

“Shane,” I sighed as
I started to walk up the steps.

“You need to get over
it.
 
He’s probably smoking…ah, as usual.”
She swung her blond hair over her shoulders as she muttered her last word.
 
There was Shane outside the school gates,
smoking and chatting up some girls.
 
Cheerleaders, no doubt.
 
You could
say I was jealous of him or even them.
 
I
didn’t know, but he just had a habit of getting on my nerves.
 
Pretending he came to school on a daily basis
for one.
 
Or making me pretend that I was
Mom on the phone when the principal called up.
 
I simply asked if he went to practice.
 
The principal said sure, and that was the end of the conversation.
 
One thing about Shane that always amazed me
is that for someone who studies at best once a year, he has amazing
grades.
 
Seriously, his SAT scores were
through the roof.
 
I did wonder if
drinking too much makes you smart, because Shane seemed to have the same IQ as
Einstein.
 
Maybe not as high, but not far
from it.
 
That was why he got away with
it.
 
He didn’t need to go to class like
the rest of us. He didn’t need to study.
 

He made me sick!

I studied like crazy
and still didn’t get half of his grades.
 
What did Mom and Dad say when the news came out?
 
“Maybe you need to study more like Shane!”

What planet were they
on?

He had more tattoos than
David Beckham.
 
He smoked like a chimney
and drank like a fish.

How did he study?

When?

Did he?

“Get over it,
girlfriend.
 
We need to get to class.” I
shook my head at the idea of going to class. I didn’t feel like it.
 
I never felt like it.
 
I had an attention span of five minutes.
 
Yep, that was why I never got the grades.
 
This was why I hated Shane, or at least I
tried.
 

“Sure, just pointless
this time of year.” I puffed as we started running to class.
 
The busy hallway was now quiet as we headed
to what used to be my favorite class, English Literature.
 
Romance was never in the air for me, more
like down in the dumps.
 
It was the only
time that I got to imagine how love should be, not how it was in reality.
 
The class changed when my uncle started to
teach it.

“Our last week. Just
chill.” We opened the doors, and sure enough Mr. Walters was there, in his
elaborate suit, wearing every color that shouldn’t be worn at the same time: a
red tie, green pants, and a blue shirt.
 
Sometimes he made my eyes hurt.

“Late again, Ms.
Blake.”

I nodded and said,
“And so it would seem, Mr. Walters.
 
And
so it would seem.”

I did a fake bow and
made my way to my seat.
 
I hated my uncle
being my English teacher.
 
Mom thought it
was great.
 
She would, she wasn’t the one
who was always teased about it.
 
He
adjusted his glasses and gave me one of those looks that said, wait till I
speak to your mom.
 
Go ahead, Uncle, see
if I care.

 
I dumped my backpack on the floor and watched
through the window as Shane headed to the track while stubbing a cigarette
outside the school gates.
 
It would soon
be the time of year when I wouldn’t need to see him anymore.
 
That time couldn’t come fast enough.

“So,” Shane whispered
in my ears as I was about to put some books in my locker. He was close, too
close in fact. His body heat was sending me to unknown temperatures. I couldn’t
turn. I wondered who else was in the hallway, and as he backed away I realized
that everyone was around, but no one was paying us any attention.
 
Why should they?
 
Everyone just knew us as brother and sister,
but we were brought up as something completely different.
 
Shane was sent to boarding school as soon as
he was eleven, and I used to go to private school until Dad lost his job last
year.
 
This was our first year in school
together.
 
Dad couldn’t afford to keep me
in private and Shane in boarding school.

It was supposed to be
for one year. I heard Mom and Dad talking about it.
 
Mom was concerned, and Dad said, “What’s the worst
that could happen? Besides, we have no choice.” Mom sighed as she thought of a
reply and then in the end she agreed with dad. I was watching from the top of
the stairs, a habit I picked up over the years.
 
When we were little, I used to do the same thing with Shane.
 
Then he left, and that was when I felt
alone.
 
When he came back from boarding
school, it was clear he hated it.
 
It was
clear he despised me.

“So what, Shane? You
need me to cover you for something?”

He came close to me
and said ever so slowly, emphasizing a syllable at a time, “You w-is-h.”
 
He had no idea what I wished as he walked
away, and I felt deflated.
  
How did he
manage to do that to me all the time? My panties were crying for him to relieve
their moisture.
 
They wanted him to know
that they wanted him, his touch, his smile, and most of all his tongue.
 
He had a way of making me lust after him even
when he wasn’t trying.
 
Even when he
wound me up beyond belief.
 

Like the time, Shane
pulled a prank on me, before my big date.
 
Before I head to the shower, I always lay my clothes on my bed.
 
Only Shane would think to go to my room while
I was in the shower and the dress I spent ages deciding to buy for the date.
 
The boots that I bought especially for the
date.
 
The accessories that I bought to
match.
 
All had itching powder.
 
He loved watching me leave home.
 
Wishing me luck at the front door. Sniggering
like a child as I struggled to stand up straight and then it got too much as my
date stood at the front door. I screamed to back into my room, telling him that
we had to go out another day.
 
Guess
what? That day never came. He never asked me out again.

***

Later on that day it
was bugging me, why did he hate me so much? There must have been a reason for
it.
 
Okay, so he wasn’t exactly mom’s
best friend.
 
They sort of got on,
compared to dad, who he hardly spoke to.
 
There was one strained relationship, if you could call it that.
 
But me.
 
I never understood what his problem was with me.
 
Why did he feel the need to constantly dig
into me?
 
I had been nothing but nice to
him.
 

“You and me, talk
now!” Shane blurted out pointing his finger at me.

I couldn’t believe
what he was doing.
 
He was sitting naked
on the edge of his bed and his head was held down.
 
His towel was on the floor.
 
I shut the door and walked up to him. No one
was in the house, but even if they were, I didn’t care.
 
He needed me, as he looked low.
 
Not his usual cocky or arrogant prick self.
 
A little boy lost in his own world.
 
I should have turned away or at least covered
him up.
 
I used my hand to raise his head
as I whispered, “What is it?” He handed me a photo of an elderly couple with a
boy on their lap.
 
I could only assume they
were his grandparents.
 
I’d always wanted
to know if he knew about his family. I knew nothing about my parents.
 
In some ways it was better not knowing, as
knowing might take away from the life that I had right here and now with the Blake’s.
 
I had earned the right to be one of them, as
I had been living with them for so long.
 

My one weakness.

My one reason for
denying he was my brother.

Was naked in front of
me.

I knelt down and saw
his mobile phone was on the floor. I knew his granddad was ill, mom had told me
and I could only assume that his illness had taken a turn for the worse.
 
I pleaded for the one thing that I had
desired for so long that I knew he wanted to give me, but had denied me at every
opportunity that had presented itself.

As I faced him I
whispered, “Make love to me.”

He simply nodded as
he started to take off my shirt.
 
I
closed my eyes, knowing that he was going to lead the way.
 
A path that I had wanted to follow for so
long.