SAFE: A Stepbrother Romance (2 page)

Striving
to hide his inner turmoil, he managed to comment, “Guess he was wrong.”

 
“You think?” Jillian said, barking out a
bitter laugh before heading into the kitchen. She came back a moment later with
a new bottle of wine and a glass for Brad.

“You
off duty?” she asked, the bottle poised over the glass she placed closest to
him on the coffee table.

“Yeah.”

She
poured the dark burgundy wine into his glass and then sat back in the couch,
her own cup cradled in her hand against her chest.

After
she took a sip, and then another, she gave Brad a wry smile.

 
“I’m sorry. I know this must be awful for you.
You can go home. I’m fine. Really. I’m just your ex little step-sister.”
Jillian winced a little at her comment. Even though it was true, she hated
bringing up the fact that she and her father were Brad’s ex-step family. She
didn’t know if it actually bothered him, but some part of her thought it might
feel like bringing up the pain of the past to him.

Angry
again, he said incredulously, “Is that all you really think you are to me? Just
my ex little step-sister?”

Jillian
rubbed her tired eyes and gave him a sleepy smile that went right to his groin.
“No. I know that’s not how it is. I’m sorry. I’m really tired, and I’m having
trouble explaining this all so it makes sense...even to me.”

 
“Yeah, well, I think you better get some sleep
then. Maybe life will make more sense in the morning.” He said, still feeling a
little annoyed but trying to cut her some slack.

She
nodded and stood up. Brad went over to the couch and sat against one of the
ends, putting his feet up. He crossed his arms over his chest and silently
dared her to tell him to go. Knowing better, she gave him a grateful smile and
then leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek. The neckline of her blouse
opened and he got an eyeful of perky, young breasts topped with dusky pink
nipples. Barely stifling a groan, he tried not to inhale her scent too
obviously when her lips touched his cheek.

“Goodnight,”
she whispered.

“Yeah,
goodnight,” he replied, his voice deep and husky.

For
a moment, she looked at him confused, and he thought she might actually realize
what he felt for her, but then she shook her head slightly, gave him her
patented sweet smile, and went off to her bedroom. After the door shut behind
her, he let out a breath he was holding and slumped down.

“Fuck
me,” he said softly to the now empty room.

Jillian
hadn’t expected to sleep well, but she immediately drifted off to sleep as soon
as her head hit the pillow. Instead of the nightmares she was expecting, she
was assaulted with images more erotic than anything she had ever known. They
flashed through her sleeping subconscious like a slideshow of disjointed
images.

Brad
handcuffing her while she was naked.

Brad
looking at her like she was the sexiest thing on the planet.

Brad
pushing her onto her bed.

Brad
clasping her hips from behind.

Over
and over images of him and her swept through her head. She woke up completely
disoriented and when she fall back to sleep they’d start all over again. When
she finally came fully awake, the sun was shining through her window.

She
replayed the images in her mind. When she first started having dreams of Brad
it scared her. Sexual dreams about the boy she grew up with? There must have
been something wrong with her. But she had come to terms with those images
years and years ago. As soon as she started liking boys Brad had snuck his way
into her dreams.

She
had to admit though, a part of her was a bit perturbed that the dreams of her
ex-stepbrother had returned. She hadn’t had any in a long time, but seeing him
again always kindled that forbidden flame.

She
felt like she had gotten no sleep. Her mind was a jumble of images, and she
gasped when she realized Brad was probably still in her home, out on her couch.

As
if she was still dreaming, she got out of her bed and walked with tired legs
over to her door. Looking down, she wondered if she should go out to him
wearing only the long t-shirt she had on. It fell to the tops of her thighs,
and she wore nothing underneath.

 
If she was fully awake, if she had gotten a
full night’s sleep and been in full possession of her faculties, she would
never have dared be so brazen. But in her odd half-awake state she had little
inhibition.

Silently
opening the door, she crept out into the room bathed in early morning sunlight.
Brad was there where she had left him, still fully clothed on her couch, one
leg fallen to the floor, the back of his head resting on his arm. She could
have sworn she didn’t make a sound, but his eyes immediately opened when she
stepped in to the room. At first he looked confused but then when he focused on
her coming toward him, he instantly looked wide awake. He sat up, saying
nothing, only watching her approach with hooded eyes.

When
she got to the end of the sofa she stopped, placing her hands on his arm.

“Did
you sleep okay?” she asked.

“Did
you?” he countered without answering her question.

She
shrugged causing the hem of her shirt to go up another inch. “I guess. Off and
on maybe.”

“Mm,”
he said. “And how are you feeling this morning?”

Jillian
couldn’t quite understand his tone and expression. He seemed almost angry, but
she couldn’t figure out why that would be the case. Yet his eyes were dark and
narrowed, and he was scowling at her. Suddenly she felt self-conscious in her
shirt and tugged at the bottom of it to cover more of her body.

“Well,
uhm, I’ll go get the coffee started. Okay?” she asked.

“I’ll
do it. You go get dressed,” he ordered, standing up and deliberately turning
his back on her to walk into the kitchen.

Hurt
and confused, she stumbled back into her bedroom and flopped down on the bed.
What the hell was wrong with her?

Brad
grabbed the bag of beans and the coffee grinder from the cupboard where she
kept them and angrily jabbed the plug into the outlet before pouring the beans
and turning the grinder on. He could barely concentrate on what he was doing,
the image of her lush, tanned thighs branded on his eyes.

He
made the coffee on autopilot muttering to himself all the while, failing to
notice her come into the room after a few minutes.

“Keep
it together, asshole. Keep it together. She’s your stepsister and just a stupid
kid.” Maybe if he said it to himself enough times he would start to believe it.

“So
that is what you think of me?” he heard her say behind him, her voice infused
with hurt.

Silently,
he counted to ten before turning around to answer. She had put on a pair of
thin sweatpants, but still wore the same t-shirt. Her sloppy clothes did
nothing to hide her sweet curves or defeated posture.

He
walked over to her and grabbed her face between his hands forcing her to look
up at him. Her big, hazel eyes were startled and shined with unshed tears.

“It’s
what I have to keep telling myself so I don’t take you over my knee and spank
you until you can’t sit for a week after that stunt you pulled last night,” he
snarled.

He
went on about how if he did ever do this, he’d fuck her within an inch of her
life right after. Even though she looked scared at first, he saw a definite
spark of curiosity flare up in her expression.

“You’d
never do that,” she said, her voice shaky and unsure.

“You
don’t think so?” he asked. “You don’t think there isn’t anything I’d do to keep
you safe? I’ll put you in a fucking cage if that’s what it takes.”

Brad
let go of her cheeks, barely keeping himself from flinging her away. Her
beautiful eyes and soft, full lips were too close for comfort. His cock was
straining against the button-fly of his jeans, and he needed some space in
order to get himself under control. Stalking back over to the counter, he
grabbed two mugs and poured the steaming hot dark roast into each.

At
first he didn’t hear any movement from her, but then she padded over and took
her mug. “Thanks,” she said nearly too soft for him to hear before she went and
grabbed the cream from the fridge. She put a splash in each of their cups and
then sat at the kitchen island staring at him thoughtfully.

Telling
himself a twenty-nine year old man, a police officer no less, should have far
more self-control than what he was showing, he walked to the other side and
stood there slowly sipping the scalding liquid.

“I
heard from the station this morning,” he said finally. “My partner texted about
an hour before you woke up. Goyle has been released and is back home. Dave and
I are going to head over there this afternoon and strongly encourage him to
drop any charges.”

Jillian
smiled at the thought. Brad could certainly be intimidating, but Dave was
downright scary. Closer to seven feet than six, with skin as dark as night, and
not a hair on his head, he could make a grown man cry just by glaring down at
him. To Jillian, he was like a huge teddy bear and he had always made her
laugh. He was married to a beautiful woman from Japan he met on Facebook of all
places. Their children were regulars in fashion catalogs for kids clothing.

“I
don’t know how much it’ll help me if you and Dave make him shit his pants and
cry,” she said.

Brad
gave her a look for the pouty mouth she put on but let it go. It was damn
fucking hard to not treat her like a kid out of sheer self-defense. Even though
he was only four years older than her, he always thought of himself as her
protector.

“Are
you going to work?” he asked.

Nodding,
Jillian gave him the first real smile he had seen since last night. “That guy
I’d told you about? Chris? He had a real breakthrough the last time we worked
together. All of a sudden he’s reading full paragraphs and loving it. I’m working
with him again today.”

Jillian’s
degree had been in special education for adults instead of children. She worked
in group homes with people who have never been able to mix in regular society.
Everyone agreed she had a special gift and was enriching the lives of the
residents far beyond what anyone would have thought possible.

“That’s
great, Jill. I’m happy for you.”

Brad
finished his coffee and set down the mug. “Well, I’m going to head out now.
I’ll come see you this evening to let you know the latest.”

“I’m
supposed to have dinner with dad.”

“Fine,
I’ll head to the house after work then.”

“Okay.”

Brad
was having a heck of a hard time leaving her, and he knew it wasn’t because he
was worried for her safety. Finally, he stepped around the kitchen island and
gently gathered her long hair in his hands, softly tugging so she had to look
up at him. Giving her a lingering kiss on the cheek, he let go, his hands
bereft when he was no longer touching her.

Jillian
gave a little, “oh,” and touched her cheek. “Brad?” she asked, not sure what to
say.

He
had kissed her cheek hundreds of times, but never had it felt anything like
that.

“Bye,
Jillie,” he said, falling back on her old nickname from when she was a kid.

He
quickly walked away, stopping only to grab his phone and wallet off of the
coffee table before leaving her apartment. Jillian held onto his kiss for
minutes after, more uncertain than she had ever been in her life.

As
anyone could have predicted, Goyle ended up pressing charges and suing Jillian
over the beating she gave him. Amazingly though, the judge at the criminal
trial had taken one look at the hulking Goyle and the miniature Jillian and
laughed. He dismissed the charges even though she had been the one with the black
belt.

“I
don’t care how much training she’s had,” the old judge had told the DA. “She
had every reason to be afraid of him and reacted. Maybe next time he’ll know
better.”

The
slam of his gavel had put an end to Goyle’s hope for a large payout. It turned
out he knew who Jillian was when he saw her in the bar. Her father, Michael,
was famous in their town and his past was filled with both great success and
tragedy. No one would have ever guessed, but he was a college dropout. Not cut
out for tests and busy schoolwork, he had spent all his time reading fantasy
novels and playing video games on the computer.

 
At nineteen, Michael had enough and left school
with his parent’s blessings. But he did manage to snag a girlfriend during his
brief stint in college. A girlfriend he would eventually marry and have Jillian
with. But they never had a chance to raise Jillian together. Her mother died
from childbirth complications. This was a weight Jillian carried with her for
her entire life. She knew it wasn’t her fault, and even though her father loved
her unconditionally, somewhere deep down she felt responsible for her mother’s
death.
 

Eventually
Michael remarried to a woman who already had Brad with another man and who
later would be Jillian’s step-mother. Several years after they got married
tragedy struck again when her step-mother died in a skiing accident. Jillian
was only seven, Brad was ten. None of them took her passing easily; especially
Michael. Losing two wives in less than a decade took an impossible toll on him.
He battled depression on and off for the better part of another decade. But he
always found solace in being a father. Brad’s biological dad ended up taking
him back where he lived with his father’s family until he was eighteen.

Luckily
for Brad, his father was quiet understanding with how close he had grown with
his step family and he let Brad stay with Jillian and Michael often enough to
keep the relationships alive. Still yet, they spent enough time apart to make
it awkward at times. Brad always felt like he had one foot in and one foot out
of the family bonding between Jillian and her dad.

In
Jillian’s mind it made sense why she couldn’t shake the sexual thoughts of Brad
out of her mind. When she had started liking boys he was naturally one of the
first ones around her, but at the same time he wasn’t around enough for her to
clearly think of him as her stepbrother. Still, it was enough of a grey area in
her mind to make her feel weird about her feelings towards him.

Brad
felt the same way. He hadn’t always found Jillian attractive, but as she got
older and slowly became a strong independent woman he quickly found his
barriers breaking down. There were mixed feelings he had that he couldn’t quiet
reconcile. He had always thought of himself as a protector over her, as her
older brother. But now he had feelings for her—urges he couldn’t control. And
that made things very different.

As
for how her father was famous in their town? After dropping out of college, he quickly
turned his passion for fantasy and gaming into his own video game he wrote on
an ancient Macintosh computer. Kindred Kingdom had later sold for five million
dollars. And, thanks to a judge who had more common sense than most, none of it
went to Phil Goyle.

But
the barn door had been opened for Jillian and the horse let loose. Before her
encounter with Goyle, she didn’t truly realize she was looking for something
different and the men she had been dating weren’t giving it to her.

She
played it safer now, but she was definitely venturing into clubs she had never
been to before, wearing clothes that revealed more skin than they covered, and
paying more attention to the dangerous looking guys instead of the safer ones
wearing suits and ties.

Brad
was checking out one such club, following up on a report of underage drinking.
He was in plain clothes and sitting at the bar when he saw Jillian walk in.
Nearly spewing his club soda all over the counter, he barely stopped himself
from marching right over to her, covering her with his jacket, and taking her
home.

She
was with two women she worked with, all three of them looked nervous about the
place they had just walked into. Jillian wore a scrap of a halter dress, the
sides and back were completely open. One wrong move and everyone would see her
breasts right to her pretty pink nipples. And if she bent over, the entire
place would be treated to the site of her pert rear end.

Brad
couldn’t say what he wanted more, to get her the hell out of there and back to
her apartment or to bend her over the nearest table and fuck her harder than
he’d ever fucked a woman before. He still hadn’t decided when he finally got
off the stool and stalked over to her.

“Jillian,”
was all he said, but he stood toe to toe with her forcing her to look up at him
and meet his furious face.

At
least she blushed and tugged on the indecent skirt to get it to cover maybe a
little more of her beautiful thighs.

“Uhm,
hi,” she said, her eyes darting all over the club, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Would
you excuse us?” he said mildly to her friends. “I recommend finding a different
establishment. This one isn’t to your liking. I’ll be sure Jillian gets home
safely.”

The
two girls looked at each other with uncertain eyes. Jillian gave them an
embarrassed smile. “It’s okay. I know him. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Her
friends left. Jillian gave Brad a shrug. “Well, uhm, what now?” she asked.

His
nostrils flared and he opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it knowing he
wasn’t ready yet. Instead of immediately marching her out of the club and
taking her home, he grabbed her upper arm and pulled her behind him over to a
dark corner. He sat her at a high top table and stood in front of her, as if he
were shielding her from the entire room.

“What
the fuck are you doing here? Do you have any idea what kind of place this is?
Are you trying for a repeat performance of three months ago?” He barely managed
to keep his voice down, but there was no mistaking his outright fury.

 
“You’re here,” she said. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
As soon as she shot back his eyes lit up. He was surprised at the spitfire she
threw back at him.

“I’m.
Working,” he said. Then, reminded that he was in fact supposed to be working,
he muttered, “Fuck. I’m working.”

Grabbing
her by the arm again, he towed Jillian back over to the bar where he motioned
for her to sit onto a stool. Then he blocked the rest of the club’s view of her
by standing directly behind her.

“What
can I get you to drink?” the bartender asked Jillian.

Quickly
realizing youthful looking Jillian was actually an excellent test for the
bartender, he ordered for her. “She’ll have a rum and coke.”

Jillian
looked up at him in surprise, but he silenced her with a look and waited to see
if the bartender would ask for an ID.

The
bartender looked at Jillian carefully, and Brad nearly reached over and choked
the short, portly man when he spent too long ogling her tits.

“You
got ID?” the piggish man finally said.

Jillian
started to reach for the little wallet dangling from her wrist, but Brad stopped
her with a nudge against her back.

“She’s
fine,” he told the bartender. “Just serve her.”

Now
the bartender took a good look at Brad. His eyes narrowed, but he held his
ground.

“No
ID, no drink. I ain’t takin’ any chances.”

Brad
suspected the complaint was an effort from a rival and equally seedy club to
get this one in trouble. Satisfied his suspicion was confirmed, he didn’t stop
Jillian from showing the man her license and receiving her drink.

When
the bartender went off to serve someone else, Brad sighed, wondering why he
wasn’t now immediately making Jillian leave the club.

Deep
down, he knew why.

 
“Want to dance?” He asked, shocking her.

The
heavy, techno music pulsed through the entire club. On the dance floor, couples
writhed together in abandon through the fog and flashing colored lights.
Inhibitions had been left at the door, and while Brad and Jillian watched, they
saw one man blatantly slide his hands up a woman’s shirt and grab her breasts.
Another couple, both women, were making out, and one of them had her hand down
the other’s skirt.

“I’d
love to,” Jillian answered, as if they were at a country club square dance.

Brad
grabbed Jillian’s drink and downed it before placing the heavy tumbler glass
back on the wooden bar.

“Come
on,” he said.

Jillian
had no idea at all what was going through his head, but she followed willingly
feeling like everything was going to change. She was seeing a completely new
side of him. Ever since she had become a teenager she battled with a deep crush
on him. She knew it wasn’t right and she always tried to bury it and pretend it
never existed. Not to mention, she had always thought it would be one sided and
unrequited. She thought of it like her stuffed animals or her childhood room
when she was a kid, just something from her younger years and having nothing to
do with her adult life.

Suddenly,
it didn’t feel so childlike anymore.

They
reached the dance floor and he pulled her close to him, holding her tightly by
her hips. She trembled a little when he grabbed her hand and held it off to the
side. Her nipples peaking when they brushed his chest. She wondered if he could
feel them through his button down shirt and blushed red at the thought.

He
looked down at her as she gazed up at him. In his eyes, she saw frustration and
anger. In hers, he saw confusion and want. Neither paid attention to the music
or people around them. His grip on her back squeezed a little and caused her
dress to bunch up and reveal the underside of her ass.

She
said nothing, her blood racing through her veins like wildfire. This was what she
had wanted. This was what she was looking for. A man to hold her like she
belonged to him. She wanted a man who had a grip she would feel long after he
let go. A man who made her forget every prudish rule society imposed on a young
woman like herself.

She
let out a soft moan and miraculously the sound carried over the pounding music
and reached his ears.

“What
the fuck am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever
you want,” Jillian answered, too quiet for him to hear, but read crystal clear
from her full, pouty lips.

Desperate
to hold onto sanity, feeling like he was playing with fire, he tried to shock
her out of their mutual fantasy by grinding his cock against her pelvis.

Jillian
sucked her bottom lip between her teeth while her hand reached up and clenched
around his neck, grasping handfuls of his hair. Instead of being shocked, she
pressed right back against him, her eyes softening with desire. She was
practically unrecognizable to him as the little girl he watched grow up over
the years.