Gripped: A Stepbrother Romance (Bonus Story: Stepbrother Forbidden) (10 page)

Strobes of light cut through the darkness intermittently as the music throbbed through the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor. I danced, unable to see anything but feel and hear as other people moved around me. I heard Melanie's familiar laughter and I swayed in her direction until I felt arms surround my waist and haul me back against a firm body. I laughed. Had the vodka not loosened my inhibitions, I would have shoved this stranger off of me. Instead, I danced with him, swaying my hips and grinding my ass against his front. He moved with me, matching my rhythm effortlessly.

The music seemed to feed us, give us energy and bolstered our courage. His hands slid down to touch my naked thighs before sliding back up to cup my breasts. Then one of his hands splayed against my belly while the other settled on my hip, holding me against him in a possessive embrace that made me warm with arousal. I should feel ashamed, I knew, to allow myself to be felt up on the dance floor, but I didn't care. Didn't want to care. Only to enjoy the feel of his hard cock pressing against my ass, his lips as they grazed my earlobe and my neck, his hands as they roved my body as we danced, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne as he held me.

Panties wet, I decided I'd fuck him. I turned to see his face. But the place was still too dark. By the time the strobe light flashed in our direction, he had relinquished me and melded back into the crowd.

***

We danced the night away until around two in the morning. Outside, the cool evening breeze from earlier had become chilly and my skimpy outfit offered little protection against the cold.

"Why didn't you carry a throwover or something?" asked Logan in irritation as he removed his blazer and handed it to me. I frowned, ready to open my fat mouth and foolishly reject his offer, but a particularly cold breeze brushed past us and shut me up fast. I took the blazer with a mumbled thank you.

"Hey, what about me?" teased Cassie.

Logan smiled at her. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. You'll be warmed up soon enough."

Ugh!
Cassie giggled and I rolled my eyes and made a gagging gesture. Melanie snorted at this.

"Maybe if you went and got the car we'd all be warm right now," I said in snippy tones as I threw on the blazer. It engulfed me and still held the warmth from Logan's body.

Logan glared at me before stalking off with Jared in tow.

"Brr," said Melanie, shivering when another cold breeze blew around us as we waited for the guys to bring the cars around.

"Guys, I think tonight's the night," said Cassie, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement.

There was no ambiguity about what she meant, but instead of responding, my attention was caught up elsewhere. The unknown man who'd felt me up earlier was nearby! I could smell him. Well, his cologne, rather. I looked around the area in the hopes of spotting him, but beside the two girls heading toward their car, it was just me and my friends.

"…sure you don't scream too loud for poor Lyss to hear," Melanie was saying, and she and Cassie laughed, but I ignored them. I inhaled deeply, and it was as though I was
enveloped
in his scent. Like if I—

I looked down at Logan's blazer wrapped around me.

No. It can't be.

I turned my head and pressed my nose against the right shoulder of the blazer.

Another deep inhale.

No fucking way.

Shock coursed through me. Why the hell did Logan's blazer smell like the man who'd danced with me. Was
Logan
the guy who'd palmed my breasts and kissed my neck? If so, had he known it was me or had he thought he was dancing with Cassie?

"Alyssa, get in the car."

Startled, I discovered that Melanie and Jared were waving goodbye as they drove away and Logan had the car stalling, waiting for me while Cassie had already hopped into the front passenger seat. During the drive home, that stupid hope spluttered back to life once more. The hope convinced me that Logan had known it was me and not Cassie since Cassie and I were nothing alike. Her breasts were bigger and her dress had sequins. Surely he would've noticed the difference! The hope encouraged me to nourish it, that maybe there was a chance Logan didn't hate me as much as I'd thought.

And when Logan dropped me home but drove off with a smiling Cassie, the hope dimmed a little, but it quietly assured me as I got ready for bed that someday, I'd no longer have to hope at all because whatever I hoped for would've been made into reality.

4: Logan

"Had fun last night?"

I lifted my arm away from my eyes. Alyssa propped her forearms on the back of the sofa I was lying in, leaning over to watch me. I could see down the front of her shirt. The fleshy tops of her breasts made for a fantastic view. She must have noticed my staring because she looked down at her chest then stood up straight, a light blush colouring her face.

"Perv."

I covered my eyes again. "You're the one who had them on display. And yes, I had an obscene amount of fun last night.
Obscene
."

Last night was the worst. I'd suffered the mother of all blue balls because I'd dry-humped and felt up my stepsister, and instead of relieving myself in the willing arms of Cassie, I'd been a true gentleman and headed home to a cold shower and an unsatisfactory self-applied handjob.

I'd been a real bonehead and a disgusting bastard. Not only could someone have seen us, Alyssa had been drunk while I was stone sober. She hadn't known who exactly she'd been grinding her perfect ass against, but I had been fully aware of whose soft body I'd been fondling. Shame and guilt coalesced into something thick and heavy in the pit of my stomach and I could feel anger being borne from that horrible mass. I was angry at her, angry about this situation; mostly, I was angry with myself.

But I suppose my lone consolation from last night was that I'd gotten the chance to feel her luscious body against mine. Both a shame and a relief that she would never know it was me.

"Did you dance with me last night?"

Shit
. Play it cool. Deny, deny, deny!

I moved my arm away from my eyes to look at her again. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I danced with a guy last night and your blazer smelled like him. So I thought..."

"It wasn't me," I said.

She didn't look convinced. "Are you sure? Because—"

"Look, it wasn't me," I snapped. "I danced with Cassie all night. Besides," I continued, my frustration fully underway now, "maybe if you didn't dress like a slut then you wouldn't have random guys grinding up on you."

I instantly regretted what I'd said, but the damage was already done. Her face looked like she'd been slapped and if there was anything lower than a heel, then that was how I felt.

I sat up. "Alyssa, I'm—"

"Wow," she said, shaking her head as she backed out of the room. "Just, wow, Logan. No level of mean is too high for you."

My apologies fell on deaf ears. She'd already left the room.

***

After a few days of the silent treatment and absolute ignoring of my presence from Alyssa, I caved to the wisdom of the internet. 'How to apologize to a woman' returned over sixty-three million results. The first link I clicked on had an actual list.

I could have asked one of my friends, but that would be weird. Frankly, men did not ask for advice about women from other men. Not unless the advice was about various tactics on getting into women's pants. I mean, yeah, I could've probably asked my friends but their filthy minds would supply filthy suggestions. They wouldn't care if she was my sister. Stepsister. Whatever.

Anyway. Alyssa's coldness didn't bother me. Clearly, she was the one with the problem here. OK, alright,
fine
. Implying she was slutty hadn't been nice. It was an assholish thing to do, actually. And maybe her persistent unwillingness to even acknowledge my presence bothered me a little. A lot. Too fucking much. Where was the Alyssa that took my mean streaks in stride and shrugged them off? Or even the Alyssa that gave back as good as she got? I didn't like this new one very much. I didn't enjoy the quiet but obvious resentment that exuded from her whenever she and I were in the same room. She had to be fixed! But how?

Nothing I read online offered any further insight or tips than what I'd already considered or tried myself. I'd apologized sincerely multiple times, but my words had only been met with rude silence. Offering her flowers or something of astronomical price value felt too over the top, and a little too much like a cheating husband paying penance to his furious wife. Perhaps 'User IcUPb4M3' on the last messaging board I'd looked at briefly was right: wait it out and see. She'll come around soon.

But a few more days went by and she still refused to speak to me.

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" I said one afternoon.

She scowled. "You haven't seen overreacting yet, dickface."

I smiled. She glared. I wanted to kiss her. She looked ready to kick me in the balls.

Finally, the Alyssa I knew.

5: Alyssa

It was fun to watch Logan agonize over hurting my feelings. Sure, what he'd said stung, but I'd gotten over that later on the same day. However, Penitent Logan was rare and pleased me too much to let it slip away. After suffering his meanness for all these years, my pride reaped significant satisfaction from watching him eat crow. Besides he should feel bad for being such an ass.

But it had to end. He would have figured it out soon, and something told me he'd be even worse of a jerk if he knew I'd already forgiven him on his first sincere apology.

I sighed and turned away from the shoe store's window to look up at the grey sky. Even though I'd not been out for long, it was time to go home. Well, not my home as Logan liked to remind me. But whatever. At least it had a TV to watch and video games to play. I don't know why Melanie and Cassie had even dragged me on this trip if they knew they were going to spend most of their time with other people. Melanie was somewhere with her boyfriend and Cassie—I don't know. When I last called her cellphone it sent me straight to voicemail.

Probably somewhere fucking Logan.

Ugh
. I didn't even want to think about that. Mostly, I didn't want to think about Logan in any sexual way ever again. Once more, I'd been duped by hope. The night of the party I'd been excited by the thought that I'd danced with Logan, but he threw cold water on that.
It wasn't me. I danced with Cassie all night.
Of course. It was why he'd been so hasty to drop me off so he could go screw Cassie's brains out.

But why had his blazer smelled like the guy I'd danced with?

Why didn't I learn? I could never have Logan. Never. To wish for otherwise led to a place of heartbreak and further dark consequences I hadn't properly considered as yet. What I actually needed was a man that was right for me. One that was socially acceptable to be with. Could I go out in public with Logan, my stepbrother? Hold him? Kiss him? Make it obvious that we did all the things a couple did? No, no, no. But I could do it all with the faceless, nameless Joe I'd find if I sought him out instead of yearning for my stepbrother.

As a matter of fact, I thought as I made my way home, the only two relationships I'd been in were complete duds. I didn't need a man at all. Not now, anyway. I was going on twenty-two and about to finish up my last year of college. What I needed was to focus on my French and business education as well as my career. After all, my ultimate dream was to live and work in the heart of France, so from here on until I'd achieved my goal, I, Alyssa Smith, would have no more interest in men.

"Is everything to your liking, Mr. Ashbury?"

I stopped walking and looked in the direction of the voice. On the patio of a pricey-looking restaurant sat a few people at different tables. However, a blonde man hovered nearest the table where Logan was seated. The blonde man looked too well-dressed in his navy-blue suit and clean haircut to be a waiter. I rolled my eyes. Typical. Wealthy people always got the better service.

"Everything's great, Michael," said Logan, leaning back into his seat. "Thanks."

He wore a pale blue dress shirt with a few of the top buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his dark hair curling at the collar added a nice contrast. Annoyed, I wondered how someone could look both ordinary and sexy at the same time.

Move before he sees you!

Too late. Michael looked up and caught me gawking and Logan followed his gaze.

"What are you doing here?" There were no mean undertones but his bluntness irked me nevertheless.

"You might be richer than God but you don't own this pavement I'm standing on," I said in snippy tones. "I can be anywhere I hell damn please."

He rolled his eyes. "Christ, Alyssa, won't you quit it? Come here."

"Why?" I was making a scene. People were starting to watch. I didn't care.

"Come have lunch with me," he said then turned to Michael. "Get her a menu, please."

"I don't want to have lunch with you. I'm going home."

"Alyssa, if you persist in behaving like a child, I have no problem treating you like one," he said evenly. "When last have you been spanked?"

My face grew hot from embarrassment and surprised excitement. Was Logan flirting with me? I wasn't sure, but he was smiling. Michael returned with the menu and I decided it wasn't a hardship to have Logan feed me an expensive plate of food.

I pretended nonchalance as I sat opposite him but failed. I stuttered out my choices, more than aware of Logan's gaze trained on me. When Michael disappeared with my order, I had nowhere to look but up. At him.

"Now isn't that better?" he said.

I fiddled with the knick knacks on the table. "Maybe for you."

"I see. So you suffer whenever I'm around then?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Especially with all the insults and stuff."