Gripped: A Stepbrother Romance (Bonus Story: Stepbrother Forbidden) (11 page)

He sighed and leaned closer. "Why are you being so difficult? I said I was sorry."

"Sure," I said, finally meeting his gaze. "You're sorry now until you open your big, stupid mouth and prove how much of a dick you can be. I don't like dicks, Logan."

"Are you absolutely sure about that?" he chuckled.

I was slow on the uptake but when I finally got it I couldn't help smiling back.

"You're the worst," I said, shaking my head.

He smiled at me. "Only for you, sis."

***

Lunch with Logan turned out to be an enjoyable experience—even when Cassie showed up unexpectedly and joined us.

"I lost my phone!" she said when I told her I tried to contact her earlier. "Auntie Isabel and I couldn't find it so I got a new one!"

After enduring Cassie's lengthy tale about the loss and futile search for her missing phone, Logan took us on a quick tour of the neighbourhood. For a small town girl accustomed to plain houses and pool-less backyards, it was interesting to see the variances of the opulent lifestyle of the coastal wealthy folk.

"How many rooms do these people need?" I asked, eyeing yet another McMansion.

"Just enough to not have to deal with annoying relatives on the regular," said Logan, looking at me.

I returned his gaze. "Yeah, I think I could agree with that."

Cassie laughed. "Are you two never at each other's throats?"

We had fun. I couldn't deny that. However I also couldn't deny the little stabs of jealousy when Cassie and Logan flirted with each other in front of me. I looked away whenever Cassie held onto Logan's arm or when Logan smiled at her in a way he'd never smiled at me before. I reminded myself of my earlier promise: no more thoughts of men, especially of Logan. I told myself that sacrifices were never easy. I consoled myself with the knowledge that someday, after I'd achieved my necessary goals in life, I'd find someone who would and could reciprocate my feelings.

Evening came and Logan drove us back to his condo. Tired from all the activities, I went to take a long, soothing bath. By the time I'd returned to the living room, both Cassie and Logan were nowhere to be found.

I ignored any thoughts that pondered on where they'd gone or what they were doing. Instead, I poached Logan's jar of mixed nuts from where he'd hid them on the very top of the fridge—I had to climb up onto the counter to get them—and headed outside. It wasn't chilly as yet, so I stayed fairly warm in my tank top and shorts. I sat on the edge of the pool, lazily swishing my bare feet in the water as I chomped away on Logan's nuts.

I giggled at the thought of 'eating Logan's nuts'.

"What's so funny?"

Startled, I turned to find Logan standing behind me.

"You're here."

He walked towards me, his hands in his pockets. "You're eating my stash."

"Payback for stealing my pizza slice," I said, munching away on some cashews. "Besides, I thought you wouldn't be back for a while from wherever you went with Cassie."

"I dropped her home."

"What's the point of being stupid rich if you don't have a driver?"

"Because I like to drive," he said. "Besides, I didn't mind driving her home."

"Of course."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as he kicked off his shoes, took off his socks and rolled up the legs of his pants.

"No meaning behind it." I shrugged, looking away as he sat beside me. "Just responding to what you said."

"No, there was more to that 'of course'," he said. "Like you're implying something." Then he scoffed and shook his head. "Jeez, Alyssa. You don't have to worry. I didn't fuck your friend. Never had."

Cassie and Logan never had sex? But what about the night of party?

I almost didn't believe him until I remembered Cassie's blabbermouth nature. She loved to regale me and Melanie with tales of her conquests. A big, rich fish like Logan would have been a prime notch on her bedpost and worthy of a longer than normal tale-telling, but Cassie had kept mum on the topic—which meant that the night of the party when she was confident 'it was her night', it hadn't been at all. Logan had not offered that ride on his cock as she'd been hoping for.

Never had I felt so relieved. I also did not want to investigate why that was so.

Pretending I wasn't surprised by what he'd said, I shrugged again.

"None of my business."

He remained silent for a while. He bowed his head and stared into the pool as he swished his feet around in the water.

"She's not my type anyway," he said quietly.

I scoffed. "Cassie is
every
guy's type. Blonde and chesty."

"Not mine." His voice was harder and when his gaze met mine I couldn't look away. The pool light below us illuminated his face in certain areas and cast shadows in others, and his grey eyes had darkened to a steely grey. He looked dangerous and exciting and he was sitting too close. Couldn't he hear how hard my heart was beating?

"OK," I said softly. "What's your type then?"

You.
It's what I wanted to hear so badly, and my mind raced with imagined responses if he did say that. But then a devious smile curved his lips.

"Soaking wet," he said.

Confused. "What? That's not—"

My words were cut short when Logan's hand pressed against my back and gave me a hard shove. I yelped, my hands flailed, one hand knocking over the jar of nuts, and the other seizing onto Logan's arm as I splashed face first into the pool. Justice was served when he got yanked into the water with me.

However, unexpectedly shoving me into the pool wasn't enough for Logan. As I righted myself and spluttered out water that got in my mouth, Logan attempted to sink me beneath the water, laughing and clearly reaping some evil joy out of trying to drown his stepsister.

"Oh my god, Logan! You ass! Stop it!"

I screamed and laughed, fighting to dunk him beneath the water too, but my efforts were pointless against Logan's superior strength. Realizing my imminent loss, I climbed onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. There was no way he'd get me now!

The water continued to slosh around us and gently eased us up against the concrete wall of the pool. Where one problem ended, another began. In my haste to get away from Logan, I'd gotten closer to him than I ever had instead.

Logan didn't move. Neither did I. The silence between us absolute.

Let him go.
I couldn't.

My heart raced and the pit of my belly felt weird and quivery. Logan gripped the edge of the pool wall to keep us buoyant while his other hand encircled my body. Why was he holding me tighter? Why didn't he let me go? We were so close. We were too close. His gaze dropped to my lips, I did the same to his. I don't know who moved first but in the next moment we were kissing.

There was nothing gentle about our kiss. It was unrefined and desperate, as if we were pouring years of frustration and denial into that one moment. Logan's mouth and body dominated mine. He slid his tongue along my bottom lip, begging entry and I opened my mouth to swirl my tongue with his. He pressed my body against the pool wall with his and I clung to him tighter, wanting to feel every bit of him on me…
in
me.

His hand moved from my back to slide up underneath my tank top and the motion of his hand disturbed the water against my skin, making it tickle my flesh. My fingers ran through his wet hair and I moaned into his mouth when his hand cupped and squeezed my naked breast beneath my top. I'd yearned to have Logan touch me this way for so long that the reality of it made my head spin with excitement.

He broke our kiss to drag his lips down my neck while his hand fondled my breast and played with my nipple. I gasped his name, grinding my hips against him. I couldn't wait to feel the full length of him moving inside me.

His voice was ragged and desperate. "God, Alyssa. I want you."

"Please," I begged, pulling his head up to kiss him again. "Please, Logan."

He dropped his hand from my breast and pulled away from me, shaking his head. He looked conflicted and angry.

"I-I can't.
We
can't. It's not right, Alyssa. You're my sister."

Stepsister
. It's what I wanted to say but it was pointless. Logan had already climbed out of the pool, and my hand was covering my mouth so he couldn't hear me crying as he walked away.

6: Logan

Morons made the same mistake twice.

Complete idiots made the same mistake twice
and
made it worse.

I don't know. I'd been labelled a genius from family, friends and professional folk but right now I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

"…require using a more lightweight database engine, but there is concern about backwards compatibility for the older models. Thoughts, Mr. Ashbury?"

The sound of my name forced me back to the present. I blinked stupidly at the roomful of faces turned in my direction. Currently, I was in a meeting with some of my software designers and engineers, but I'd lost track of the topic immediately after I'd sat down in my seat. My physical presence hadn't been necessary. I usually attended these things via a VoIP service but I'd wanted an excuse to get out of the house. I found many excuses to not be around when Alyssa was home ever since what we did a few days ago. Half because I felt guilty and ashamed for doing it and the other half because I knew I'd be tempted to do it again.

I mean, she did seem to be pretty into it that night. This thought dawned on me the very next day and had stayed with me up until now. It was the only consolation that eased my conscience. Better yet, she hadn't been drunk—hadn't seemed so, at least. Her participation had not only been of her own free will but overly enthusiastic, too. No hesitation. No sounds of complaint, whatsoever, save for when she'd actually
begged
me to continue.

Anyway, I had work to do and dwelling on the whys of Alyssa's behaviour felt like a dangerous exercise in futility. It would only encourage me and I did not need encouraging. I apologized to my employees for my brief lapse of attention and made a point of staying completely focussed when I was refreshed on the matter at hand. I let work bury me and drown out any random thoughts about Alyssa like
what if I'd not stopped kissing her that night?
Did she feel the same way about me as I did about her?
This worked great and I hardly ever saw her. I suspected she avoided me too. Either way, I was relieved when her departure date drew closer.
One more day,
I thought. I just had to survive one more day and then everything would be back to normal. Alyssa would be miles away from me, no longer around to tempt me or feed the pesky hope that there could be something more between us.

***

"Mr. Ashbury, remember you have a dinner meeting with Mr. Dufort tonight at 9 at
La Bonne Nuit
."

I looked up from my laptop at my receptionist, Margeaux. "Damn, I forgot about that. Can't you reschedule?"

She looked confused. "No, because you specifically—"

"Yeah, yeah. I remember now. Big new French contract and Greg's on vacation so he can't take this one." I sighed. "Fine."

"You will need a translator. Mr. Dufort does not speak English," she continued, and then her tone got suggestive as she ostentatiously flipped her hair over her shoulder. "As you are aware, I am French, Mr. Ashbury. I can be your translator."

I leaned back in my chair and gazed at her. I'd slept with Margeaux once at a Christmas party in one of my various moments of absolute drunkenness and stupidity. I'd regretted it ever since. Sleeping with a co-worker was bad enough, but sleeping with an employee? Incredibly dumb especially where lawsuits were concerned. She often hinted at an encore, and I always pretended ignorance when she did. At least that was one mistake I had the good sense not to make again.

"Thank you, Margeaux, but that's fine. We've a professional translator on payroll already," I said evenly.

Margeaux's red lips curved in a triumphant smile. "She is sick with the flu."

"I see," I said. "Well, I'll think of something."

"Mr. Ashbury—"

I raised my hand to cut her off. "Again, thank you, Margeaux, but that will be all. I would like to get back to work now.

She pouted and I ignored it by pretending renewed interest in my laptop screen. When she'd left the room, I sighed in relief. I should have fired her a long time ago, but she was an excellent receptionist. It was not a wise practice to fire good employees just because their presence reminded one of their past misdeeds.

Nevertheless, I had a slight problem on my hands. I was to meet with a French client to conduct business negotiations despite the fact that neither of us would be able to understand each other. And even though Dufort would likely bring his own translator, as with lawyers, it was a good idea for me to have one too. Unfortunately, aside from Pam, the company's foreign affairs director and known polyglot, I only knew of two others who were likely translator candidates: Margeaux and Alyssa. Neither of which I wanted to interact with for too long.

Still, a choice had to be made, and of the two, I preferred Alyssa by far. Despite my plans to avoid Alyssa due to past…err…
events
…I'd much prefer her company than that of the persistent Margeaux. Deciding to take Alyssa to the dinner felt right somehow, and the more I considered it, the better I felt. I had Margeaux order and deliver some dinner clothes to my condo in her size, and I could tell by her self-satisfied smile that she thought they were for her. Nope, they weren't. She and Alyssa looked about the same size. It was the best I could do short of calling Alyssa and asking her to go shop for the clothes herself.

And I couldn't do that. She'd say no. Just as I knew she was going to say no when I asked her to the dinner with me tonight.

But I would change her mind. I was sure of it.

7: Alyssa