SNAKE (a Stepbrother Romance) (5 page)

BOOK: SNAKE (a Stepbrother Romance)
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However much I tried to deny it, the thought of his lips against mine was still scorching my mouth. I’d enjoyed his sweet taste, the way his rough thick tongue explored wildly as it declared his need for me. My fingers moved as if of their own accord, touching my lips. The tips of my fingers retraced the delicate skin that had been caressed by Devan’s forbidden kiss only a few minutes ago.

I knew I shouldn’t be replaying it. Knew I should already be doing my best to forget it ever happened. But my mind was filled with thoughts of my stepbrother, and only him.

My free hand slipped under the sheets before I even knew what was going on. Wearing only a thong and slip, I gasped as I thumbed the sensitive skin between my legs. He’d been so close to touching me down there, to making skin-on-skin contact with my most sensitive area, and I wondered how he would’ve proceeded; would he have teased and flicked at my clit, like I was doing? Or would he have been unable to resist and surged ahead, plunging his capable fingers deep within me?

I wished Dev could see me, watching me touch myself, I thought lustily. As soon as the thought became clear in my mind, I felt the guilt rushing through my body like a wave, and I removed my hand.

Wrong, wrong, wrong!

But why did it all feel so fucking good? Yet it was, undoubtedly kissing him back was the worst thing I could have ever done. Thinking about the man who was my stepbrother, and a married man at that, was diabolical! A man I’d promised to give the greatest gift of all… a baby. It was my duty to stay true to my word, for Devan’s sake, as well as Monique’s.

Oh god, Monique
, I thought with guilt. But then the scene of her own infidelity flashed before my eyes, Monique’s bare back shielding the truth from my view. A man fucking her in their house, their den – their sofa-bed she shared with my stepbrother was now tainted with someone else’s juices.

She’s a disgrace, I thought angrily, and once again remorse and shame filled me. Had I not been just as bad, kissing her husband behind her back? I should be ashamed of myself. And what had
he
been thinking? He was supposed to be the good one, the one I looked up to… the one who was supposed to be perfect.

Everything was ruined.

The urge to tell someone what happened was almost too hard to resist as I eyed my discarded cell phone with longing. I wished I could call Suzanne and unburden myself, but I knew this was one secret I couldn’t spill. Not this time. If I told Suzanne, in a few days’ time the whole family would know. I’d be mortified. No, I had to keep this to myself.

Biting my bottom lip, I fought hard to keep the thoughts of Devan at bay, but it was too difficult. I thought of his strong arm with its sinuous, tattooed snake and how his muscles rippled when he touched me. The way he ground his hips against mine, making me feel his hardness, his lust, showing me just how hot I made him.

Those thoughts were addictive, and the guilt only made it worse.

Forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest.

Still feeling a little dizzy from the alcohol that I’d practically bathed in, my fingers found their way back between the sheets, and I stroked my centre slowly, lazily pretending it was Dev’s hand caressing me. I thought of him coming to my rescue at the bar, the way Dev’s muscled body made me more and more excited.

And then the kiss… the one that had probably ruined any future make-out sessions for me.

His mouth on mine felt perfect, and nothing in the world could change that. Dev’s touch was voracious, needy, impatient and possessive. Instantly, I felt wetness between my legs soaking the silky fabric of my panties.

He wants me all for himself…

I gulped hard.

But of course, I could be professional. I had to be. I knew the kiss was probably nothing to Dev - only a rebellion against his wife who had been giving him the cold shoulder for weeks as far as I knew.

I had to pretend it never happened. I had to go through with the plan of being their surrogate. I could do it despite knowing what Monique was doing behind Dev’s back and knowing how special my stepbrother’s touch made me feel.
Couldn’t I?

I’d never mention it again.

Yet deep down, I knew any attempt at forgetting just wasn’t an option. I wouldn’t even try to deny it, because what was the point? That kiss was pure magic, lust and desperate need combined. It was two bodies fitting seamlessly together, exchanging their deepest desires with a simple touch.

It could never, ever happen again.

My eyes became heavier and heavier, threatening to pull me under with each second that passed.

My hand had become trapped between my legs, feeling my own arousal soaking my thong. With the other hand, I was still touching my lips, feeling the heat from our kiss fade away.

I had one last thought before I fell asleep.

All it took was one kiss. One kiss, and I was already falling for Devan, knowing it would break me, because as forbidden relationships go, this was at the top of the list.

Groaning, I closed my eyes and finally let the tiredness take over. There would be plenty of time to worry about what we’d done tomorrow.

10
Devan

I
made
myself walk away from her, even though it was the last thing I wanted in the world. For the first time in months, I felt alive next to a woman, and I was sure the feeling was mutual.

It had taken everything to turn away, to not tear away her panties and fuck her right there and then on the steps while my wife was oblivious in the house below.

To take her for my own.

I could’ve done it…
I should have
. But I’d made a promise to myself a long time ago to never be that guy again – the bad guy whom everyone hates. The man who used pretty girls because he could. Never calling them back, fucking them about, not caring if they got hurt in the process, but always getting what I wanted, when I wanted it. Taking what I thought belonged to me.

No, I’d become a gentleman. The one who opened doors, the one who stayed loyal to his wife even though she hardly gave him a second glance anymore.

But, fuck! Mila’s deep kiss, her arms tracing the outlines of muscles on my back, and that little whimper she made when I moved away an inch. Mila wanted me just as much as I did her and seeing that creep’s hands all over had made me lose all control. He was lucky that I hadn’t crippled him.

And though it was completely irrational:
she was mine.

I’m not a fool. I knew what we did was wrong. I knew I’d betrayed my wife’s trust in the worst way possible, and my heart was already feeling the pangs of guilt constricting my chest.

But goddamn it, I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that kiss had made me feel like a man. Finally, after months of inner turmoil, I knew I could still turn a woman on.

Mila’s sighs were proof enough. If only that were the only realization of the night. If only it weren’t followed by deep, painful regret and confusion, knowing I longingly wanted to sleep in my stepsister’s bed, not my wife’s.

I
did
my best to expel all thoughts of Mila from my fuzzy head as I entered the house I shared with Monique, knowing if I didn’t stop thinking about all the forbidden things I wanted to do to her, I’d keep playing them over and over like a favourite song, and my face would give it all away.

“Where the hell have you been?” Monique’s accusatory voice greeted me as soon as I shut the back door behind me. With a heavy sigh, I walked into the living room, kicking off my shoes in the process.

“Don’t leave your stuff lying around,” Monique hissed behind me, putting the shoes in their place as I rolled onto the couch. She was always so prim and proper - never liked having a hair out of place.

Definitely not like Mila. Sweet, a little messy, perfectly disarrayed Mila.
Fuck.
I shook my head to get the thought of my stepsister out; sure as hell my expression was one of guilt as Monique walked back into the living room.

“I was worried,” she whined, and a pang of guilt shot through my chest. “Where were you? Mila wasn’t here either, did you know that?”

“She was with me,” I said in an attempt to be placating. “We were just so happy after we got the heads-up from the doctor, we wanted to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” Monique’s eyes widened as if I’d just uttered the single dirtiest word in my vocabulary. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I knew telling Monique the truth would cause an uproar, but I felt like a stubborn child in that moment. I pursed my lips and told her a portion of what happened.

“I took her to dinner,” I said, not regretting my actions in the least. Not even kissing my stepsister. I could never regret feeling like a man for the first time in months.

“What did you have?” Monique’s tone was already threatening. Fuck, she would probably strangle me on the spot if she knew exactly what Mila and I had really been up to.

“We had burgers,” I said, my rebellious nature coming out to play as I stared Monique down, almost asking her to call me out on it. Her mouth pursed in a tight, unattractive line, but I wasn’t done yet. Call it an act of desperation. “We went to Mila’s favourite, Tasty Burger. I’d love to take you sometime.”

“You know I don’t eat meat anymore,” Monique spat out in horrified shock, her eyes widening at my confession. Here we go, I thought, already tired from the anticipation of the impending fight.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Dev?” she asked in an angry tone. “I told you the girl isn’t supposed to eat that shit. I don’t know which one of you is more stupid for going against my wishes.”

I was about to object, but she prattled on, calling me out on inconsequential stuff that shouldn’t have even made it into the conversation. I’d had enough of being scolded like a child and got up from the couch, one too many drinks making my head woozy. When I tried to leave the room, Monique walked right up to me.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me – we aren’t done yet!”

Even though she was a head shorter, she held her ground, blocking my way.

Then I smelled something wafting from her.

A deep, pungent scent of spices and musk. Cologne. Most fucking definitely not mine, either.

“What’s that smell?” I asked before I could stop myself, the aroma that I’m sure was meant to be pleasant quickly becoming repulsive and overbearing in my nostrils.

“What?” Monique asked in confusion, cutting off her rant for a split second. I stared her down and saw her eyes widen and round out as she figured out what I meant.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she finally muttered and walked away from me, her tirade cut short. Now I was the one leading the game, and the bitterness took over my body as I walked over to Monique, my hands tightening into fists.

All the months, fuck, no -
years
of doing everything she said, obeying her on every step, were finally catching up to me. I was reaching my breaking point.

“Why do you reek of another man’s cologne, Monique?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. She wouldn’t meet my eye, turning her back towards me, but I saw how tense her shoulders were.

She was hiding something, and it fucking hurt knowing what it probably was, but until she admitted it out loud, I would not believe the worst of my wife.

“I was at the work thing,” Monique said, clearing her throat as she plumped a pillow I’d messed up by lying on the couch. “Someone probably stood too close to me. You know how friendly the partners like to get.”

“I’m sure they’re very friendly indeed,” I said sarcastically, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I strode over to her, placing my hands on her hips and gently made her turn around until we were face to face. Monique’s eyes were cast downward, but I tipped her chin back with my finger until she was forced to look at me.

Those beautiful eyes, the very ones I fell in love with a long time ago. Surely there was still a way to make this work. I loved her, and she must have loved me if she wanted to have my baby so badly.

I’d made a mistake, and perhaps so had she, but we could get past it. We could find our way back to each other, if only she would be truthful with me.

“Tell me what happened, sweetheart,” I begged her softly, and for a moment, her eyes filled with remorse and guilt as we gazed at one another.

But then, just like that, as if a light had been switched off, the moment passed, and venom filled those pretty eyes of hers. “Nothing to tell,” she said coldly, moving away from my touch before I could pull her back in my arms.

“By the way, Dev,” she added, her voice syrupy sweet and dripping with fake kindness as she once again turned her back on me. “I know you’re not man enough to give me the child I want, but the least you could do is make sure our mule takes care of herself.”

Her words were pure evil, and they fucking stung.

I stared at her, my mouth gaping open, unable to believe she really said those hateful things to me. My jaw tensed up; my teeth ground together. I could’ve thrown our marriage away right there and then by saying something hateful right back, but before I had a chance to reply, she looked me right in the eye to deliver the final blow.

“I hope our baby will be more like me than you,” she said matter-of-factly, like we were discussing a business transaction. “It would be bothersome to have to deal with your shortcomings in that way, too.”

Who was this woman?
I thought.

My wife had her straight, sharp edges at times, but she was never this cruel or unpleasant. What kind of monster had Monique become?
Did I do this to her?

With that, she turned on her heel and walked right out of the room. I stared at her retreating figure, watching her go upstairs and into our bedroom.

Robotically I headed towards the den. Her words were still ringing in my ears, but I attempted to block them from my thoughts. I tried to stay numb, as if it didn’t matter at all what she had said. As if she hadn’t just humiliated both Mila and me.

I took it all, because I deserved it. I kissed my stepsister today, which proved just what a crappy husband I really was. But did Monique hate me so much that I’d somehow changed her over the course of the years? Made her become this nasty person that I did not want to be around?

My mind heavy with liquor and regret, I set up my bed for the night. There was no way I could sleep in the same room as Monique, not after what had spilled from her vile mouth, even if I’d wanted to be close to her, which I didn’t. Regardless, I was sure she would have kicked me out had I tried.

I lay down and pulled the flimsy blanket over my body. My mind was swimming with so many thoughts; I knew sleep would elude me for a good while.

But despite all my worries about Monique and our marriage, one thing stood out amidst the chaos.

Mila.

Beautiful, laughing, pure Mila, who made me feel like I was worth something, and whose seductive body felt so goddamn right under the tips of my fingers.

Why did it have to be her that I wanted?

Why couldn’t I stay true to the vows I’d made to Monique?

Why did I want what I couldn’t have?

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