Fight: A Stepbrother Romance Novella (4 page)

Paxton

I spent most of the day with my mother, though she was asleep more often than she was awake. The few times she had been coherent, we had talked lightly, and I had caught her up on what was going on in my life now. I had shied away from the unasked question in her eyes, because I couldn’t tell her why I had left all those years ago.

Maybe if she had been in good health, and in a position to act on the knowledge, I would have told her. Instead, finding out her husband was an abusive asshole was nothing she could change, and it could only make her last days worse.

My stomach rumbled as I stepped into the kitchen, the scent of roasting meat having drawn my attention. My appetite soured at the sight of Mia and Dirk sitting at the table together. I started to turn, still not speaking to Dirk. I had no intention of doing so if I could help. I hesitated, looking back when a chair scraped behind me.

With a growl of irritation, Dirk had pushed back his chair and now held his plate, using the other door to exit the kitchen. It surprised me the pretentious prick had been sitting in the kitchen instead of in the dining room, where he had always insisted we eat family meals before.

The few times he had bothered to join us, that was. He’d always been a workaholic, or perhaps just a pussyhound who used work as a camouflage for his other activities. I didn’t know, but I knew I had been relieved for every hour he wasn’t in the house—unfortunately, he had come home nearly every night.

My stomach was still twisting from the memories, and I pushed them away as I turned back to the table to join Mia. She looked annoyed, but I soon realized it was with her dad and not me.

“I’m sorry, Paxton. I don’t why he’s being such a jerk.”

I just shrugged it off, having no intention of wasting any further time talking about him. Instead, I took the empty plate she’d set for me and filled it with some kind of…thing. “What is this?”

“Beef and noodle casserole.”

Carefully, I took a bite, and it was terrible. “You pay the cook for this?”

Mia’s cheeks flushed, she looked down slightly. “It’s her day off. I made it.”

Way to fuck that one up, man.
“It’s not bad.” Except it was. If it wasn’t bland, it was over-seasoned every other bite. Still, I choked down as much as I could, which was a little more than a fourth of a plate and barely enough to take the edge off my hunger.

It was only when I realized she wasn’t eating either that I finally stopped. “Something wrong with your appetite?” A quick glance at the pan revealed only two other slices had been removed, so she certainly wasn’t on her second.

Suddenly, she burst out laughing. “It’s awful, isn’t it?” She pushed away her plate, and I did the same gratefully.

“Here, let me make you something,” I offered. I could see her surprise, and I was determined to impress her. After living alone for eleven years, I was more than competent in the kitchen, and I saw no need to waste money on someone to come clean my house or feed me. A lot of times, I wasn’t even home in my small apartment, since I was on the road and forced to eat out, but when I was home, it was an actual home to me.

I made her chop vegetables, and soon we had a respectable stir-fry on our plates instead of the horrible casserole. To my gratification, she ate seconds, as did I.

“You certainly have to take over the cooking the nights the cook is off.”

She said it so easily, and my heart stuttered. It implied a certain permanency to this arrangement that didn’t exist. Once my mom passed on, I was out of here, and I had no reason to return ever again. Still, I liked the idea of having some kind of future connection with her, though the thought of staying in this house for any other reason than my mom’s sake was enough to rob my appetite. I set down my fork and watched her finish the last few bites of her second plate, not speaking.

Finally when she was sated, she pushed her plate away and folded her hands on her tummy. It was adorable, as though she had overfilled herself, though I couldn’t imagine her tummy being puffy or distended in any form. Except maybe pregnancy. For some reason, the idea of her stomach swollen with a baby, my baby, made my cock hard. It was a strange fucking reaction, because I had already decided long ago that I’d never have kids. Certainly not with my stepsister.

“What was this morning about?”

I arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

She tipped her head slightly, giving me a dirty look. “You know what I mean. You almost made me come, and then you left. What is it you want from me?”

“I think you know by now I’d like to fuck you, right?”

She nodded, her eyes shining with eagerness.

“I get the feeling you’d like that too?” I reached out to trail my index finger down her forearm, making her shiver at the contact.

“You know I would. After last night, you must know that.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and I realized she was a little embarrassed by her vibrator performance against the wall.

I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t, because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I wasn’t making fun of her. I just admired her moxie, that she had done something like that to get my attention even though it discomfited her.

“You also know that no one would approve of us hopping into bed together.” I chose my words deliberately, underscoring it would be nothing more than physical coupling. There was no relationship or future between us, and she had to understand that just as much she needed to consent to the physical relationship.

She hesitated for a moment, looking as though she might want to argue. Finally, with a small sigh, she nodded her head again. “Yeah, I get that. Most people would still consider us siblings, even though we haven’t seen each other for eleven years and were never all that close to start with.”

He nodded. “Exactly. So that’s why if and when we fuck each other, you’re going to be the one to ask for it. I’m not going to bear the guilt all by myself, or be the one who gets the blame if someone finds out about us. It’s an equal endeavor, and we’re both into it equally, or it doesn’t happen.”

She bit her lip, and it was such a sexy sight that I wanted to stretch over to take that flesh between my own teeth and nip lightly.

“All I have to do is ask?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. I guess maybe I was going for intimidating, because I wanted her to know what she was getting. I’d rather she chicken out now than later. “That’s all you have to do, if that’s what you want.”

She hesitated for a long moment, and then she pushed her chair back and stood up. She walked around the table, pausing beside me, and leaning down so her mouth was near my ear. “Please, will you fuck me?”

Without waiting for an answer, she shimmied on out of the kitchen, her hips swaying in a hypnotizing fashion that made my dick press hard against the zipper of my jeans. It was all I could do to sit there for a long moment instead of running after her like a pathetic puppy dog.

Instead, I spent a few minutes cleaning up the kitchen and stopped in to see my mom again for the night. I was disgusted at the sight of my stepfather sitting at her bedside, and we traded glares, but I didn’t speak to him, and he didn’t speak to me. I told my mom a brief good night and slipped out of her room before heading down the hallway to my own.

I hesitated at my doorway, trying to decide if I should be reluctant about approaching Mia’s room. Should I be agonizing over this decision, or trying to do the right thing?

No doubt, I shouldn’t keep on going to her room, and I certainly shouldn’t tap on the door and enter without permission. I most certainly shouldn’t close the door behind me and lock it as I leaned against the wood to see what awaited me. Thankfully, I’ve already established I’m not the kind of guy who does the right thing on a regular basis, or I wouldn’t have discovered her sweet little surprise.

Her room was dim, though she had lit several candles to provide illumination. She waited for me on her bed, wearing a gauzy white négligée that hid absolutely nothing. Her body was as gorgeous as I’d thought it would be, and I couldn’t wait for a leisurely inspection of her cunt before I ate her out.

As I drew nearer to the bed, I was surprised and intrigued to see some of the things waiting for me. Furry handcuffs, nylon and Velcro straps that attached to the bed, and a variety of sex toys, including a selection of differently sized butt plugs. I was completely on board with the idea, as long as they were all for her. None of that shit was going in my body. I stopped near the bed, arms crossed over my chest to stare down at her. “What’s all this?”

She tipped up her chin, and her tone was brave, but I could see her uncertainty and a hint of fear shining through underneath. “I thought maybe we could play some games.”

“More games?” It seemed like it had been a series of games since I came here. Was it really just yesterday? Already, my life in Vegas felt like it was fading to a distant memory, and I should have panicked at the thought, but having Mia spread out before me in practically nothing, a selection of kinky toys at my disposal, did a whole lot to ease the concern.

With deliberate movements, I undressed, aware of her eyes on me the entire time. I didn’t rush through the process, but I didn’t drag it out either. I wanted to be naked, and I wanted to be inside her. Eventually.

When I was naked, I sat on the edge of her bed, lifting the fur handcuffs and the nylon straps. Which one did I want to use on her? The idea of having her hands cuffed behind her back, on all fours with her head against the pillow and her ass in the air, was certainly appealing, but then so was the idea of strapping her to the headboard, splayed wide, and her body open to me. With a small twinge of regret, I set aside the handcuffs and leaned forward to attach the straps to the headboard.

She watched me, her eyes slightly dark with trepidation, but mostly she was just vibrating with excitement. She was a kinky girl, and I liked that. After attaching the straps securely, I cupped the back of her head and grasped her hair to pull her closer.

I wanted to devour her mouth, to suck her up and taste all of her essence, but I settled for a firm, yet gentle, kiss for our first one. She sighed softly, her lips molding to mine, as her tongue stroked mine cautiously and carefully. She kissed a bit like a virgin, but I knew she couldn’t be. I suspected it was more of a getting-to-know-you kind of kiss, as she explored the boundaries between us. For my part, there shouldn’t be boundaries. I wanted to put my mark on her and make sure she never forgot me.

Before I could help myself, I deepened the kiss, making it fierce and demanding. She stiffened for a second, and then her mouth softened again, and she molded her lips to mine. She never protested as I really devoured her mouth, biting and licking her tongue and her lips. It was a natural action for my mouth to slide lower, down her neck to the fragile straps of the white négligée she wore. Adrenaline surged through me, and rather than pull it off nicely, I grab the straps and ripped.

That brought back a bit of awareness, and I glanced at her to make sure she was okay with the turn of events. Her lips were parted, her eyes half-mast, and she looked excited beyond belief. Apparently, she didn’t mind the animal side of my nature that surged from time to time.

Reassured, I also ripped off the other strap and toss the wasted scrap of fabric behind my back. She was as naked as me, except for a tiny little pair of panties that matched the négligée. I couldn’t wait to rip them off with my teeth.

Forcing myself to go slowly, I spent a few moments exploring her tender breasts. They were small, but just the perfect palm full, and her nipples were long, hard, and super responsive. The slightest flick of my tongue made her shiver, and when I bit down with more force, grazing the sides of the bud, she whimpered and arched against me, her fingers burying themselves in my hair. That reminded me I still hadn’t confined her.

Somehow, I managed to tear myself away from her breasts to lift one of her wrists. I watched her carefully the entire time, looking for signs of reluctance or withdrawn consent, but she seemed confident in her decision. I fastened the first, and she just smiled at me. Even when I had confined the second wrist, she didn’t seem nervous. Perhaps a little anxious, but I supposed that would be expected if you’d never been tied up before by someone.

“Am I your first?”

Her eyes widened. “You mean my first lover? No, of course not.”

I laughed, though I didn’t like the twinge of possessiveness that shot through me at the idea of some other creep having touched her. “No, I meant am I the first guy with whom you’ve played these games? Or do you regularly let yourself be tied up?”

“It’s the first time I’ve done it, but certainly not the first time I’ve imagined doing it.” She winked at me.

Damn, she was brave. Sexy. Adventurous. Fucking beautiful. She was the kind of girl that got to a guy, and I didn’t want to be gotten to. I wanted to fuck her and run when this was over. I’d have to remind myself of that and keep us both on track for a short-term fling and nothing more. Right now, her sweet pussy beckoned though, and I was far more interested in it than setting boundaries for our relationship.

I rasped a tongue down one of her nipples as I scooted down her body, trailing my tongue over her abdomen and making a pleased sound when I found her belly ring. She didn’t seem like the type to have one, so it was a nice surprise. I liked piercings. I didn’t actually have any myself, but I liked a girl to be pierced. I loved a nipple piercing, or a belly button piercing, and I’d even had a couple girls with clit piercings.