Stepbrother Untouchable (14 page)

“We should get dressed,” he reminds me, kissing me quickly
before jumping back up. I groan. Where's he getting all this energy? I feel
like I could sleep for days.

“Do you think there will ever be a day when we can tell
them?” I ask with a yawn as I sit up. He pauses for a moment as he pulls open a
dresser drawer.

“I don't know. Let's just keep it our secret for now.”

“No, no, I wasn't saying I—” I break off as we both hear a
car pulling up to the front of the house. I hurry over to the pile of my
clothes and ball them up in my arms before running to the door. “See you
later!” I call quietly over my shoulder as I dash naked down the hallway.

As I shut my door behind me and begin pulling on my clothes,
I wonder why Nate was so quick to suggest that we keep it quiet. Not that I
want something different—for now, at least. But someday… I mean, does he just
envision keeping our relationship secret forever? What kind of relationship
would that be, anyway?

I sigh. These kind of questions are what Allison warned me
about in the first place. It's just…
fuck
. What was once a far-off crush
has become real for me. Too real. And Nate has said he has feelings for me,
that I'm different, but he hasn't been any more specific than that.

On my end, I don't think this is a purely sexual
infatuation. I'm really falling for him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Going to work this week and being away from Nate during the
day has felt like going through physical withdrawal. I really have to force
myself to focus, because sometimes I find myself staring off into the distance,
remembering what he did to me the previous night. I wish I could just go
straight home at six today, but I promised Allison I'd go shopping with her.
And there are actually a couple things I'd like to pick up for myself.

I meet her at the Anthropologie in Georgetown Mall, and we
start going through the sale racks as we catch up. While she's not looking, I
slip a couple sets of lingerie and sexy bras into my basket. I want to wear
something a little sexy for Nate, but I don't want to face Allison's inevitable
questions if she sees what I've picked out.

We eventually make our way to the changing rooms and begin
trying on our choices. I quickly slip on the first matching set of bra and
panties. I admire myself in the mirror. The lace is a pale violet, and not
overtly sexy—it's Anthropologie, not Victoria's Secret, after all.

“What do you think?” Allison asks suddenly, pulling the
curtain aside and stepping into the dressing room with me. She's wearing a blue
cotton dress and twirls for a second before she realizes what I'm wearing. Her
eyebrows raise. “Whoa.”

“Allison,” I groan, pulling one of the more substantial
pieces of clothing off a hanger to cover myself.

“You know, I had a feeling something was different with
you,” she says, beginning to smile.

“Really?”

“Yup. And I was right. I always thought you two would make a
good match.”

“What? That's not what you said.”

“Yeah, I totally called it!”

“No, you completely warned me against the whole thing,” I
reply, confused and even slightly annoyed.

“Wait,” she says with a frown, “who are you talking about?”

“Who are
you
talking about?”

“Greg, obviously…”

“Oh, right.”

“Brynn…”

“What?” I ask innocently.

“If it's not Greg, who did you think I was talking about?”
she asks, her eyes widening.

“It's not important, OK?” I reply, blushing.

“Brynn, no. Please tell me it's not Nate. Please. I mean,
he's your
stepbrother
. It's…it's
gross
.”

“Thanks a lot, Allison. Not exactly what I needed to hear
right now,” I snap, turning my back to her to pull off the lingerie.

“Um, maybe it's
exactly
what you need to hear right
now. I mean, what's with you? You're ignoring a perfectly nice guy to go out
with some jock like Nate.”

“Well, first of all, it's none of your business. Second of
all, you're actually completely right about Greg. He is 'perfectly nice.'
There's no spark at all. Zero. Third of all, Nate's not 'some jock.' He's
really smart, and kind, and funny. And with him? Sparks galore!”

“God, Brynn, I'm just trying to look out for you. You're
making some really bad decisions.”

I take a deep breath, not wanting to raise my voice in this
public place. “No, Allison, you're not trying to look out for me. What you're
doing is judging me. Completely different. And I really don't appreciate it.” I
finish pulling on my skirt and quickly slip my flats on as I grab my purse and
walk quickly out of the dressing room.

I walk straight out of the store and toward the elevator to
the parking garage, my cheeks burning with anger, though I also feel a bit like
crying. I've never had a big fight like that with Allison before, and I don't
like it.

I freeze outside another store just as I'm about to reach
the elevators. Victoria's Secret. My relationship with Nate isn't “gross.”
There's nothing wrong with what we're doing. If anything, my conversation with
Allison has made me want to lean into my relationship with Nate, not out of it.
I march in and straight to the raciest pieces I see.

When I get home, I hear my mom and Pierce laughing in the
kitchen, and the TV from the den. I walk in there and smile in relief at the
sight of Nate with his feet up on the couch. He moves his legs over and I plop
down.

“Hi,” I murmur with a smile.

“Hi,” he replies. “What's wrong?” I frown at him, and he
reaches up to his shoulder, miming pulling at something. I stare at him for a
moment before realizing he's mirroring my own action of pulling at my hair. I
sigh and drop my hand.

“It's Allison. We had an argument,” I explain. “She…she
found out.” He cocks his head and then lets out a low whistle as he realizes
what I mean.

“Well, I suppose it's not that bad. I mean, I always
thought…” he lowers his voice, looking back toward the kitchen where our
parents are still talking. “I always thought that at school, we could be more
open. No one really knows you're my stepsister there. I mean, Allison would
have found out then anyway, right?”

“I guess so…she just…she called it 'gross.' We're not, are
we?”

“Well, I certainly don't think there's anything gross about
you.”

“It's more than that, though. I feel like we're drifting
apart a little,” I reveal, swallowing a ball of hurt in my throat.

“Mm,” he replies, considering. “Like me and Jackson, sort
of. Well, maybe you won't be quite as close as you were, but there are still
things you can enjoy about her.”

“When'd you get so wise?” I ask, nudging his feet next to
me.

“Since I started hanging out with you. You're rubbing off on
me.”

Before I have time to consider whether he's being serious or
not, we hear my mom call, “Dinner!” from the kitchen, and are forced to put our
conversation on hold.

Pierce seems to be in an unusually good mood during the
meal, for which I'm grateful. Not for his sake, but for Nate's, because he's
much less likely to snap at his son when he's feeling jovial.

“Well, we haven't made an official announcement, Brynn, but
Thornhill and Co. has just landed Mark Broadman as a client,” he reveals
eventually.

“The hedge fund billionaire?”

“That's right. He has several new holdings, and needs advice
on some public policy matters.”

“Wow, that's huge. Congrats, Dad,” Nate chimes in. Pierce
nods at him in a self-satisfied manner.

“I'm glad it's all—I'm glad that's happened, Pierce,” I
correct myself. I almost referenced the scandal earlier this summer, but
managed to change course. We never talk about it now, though I know that Pierce
was concerned that it would negatively impact his business. But landing such a
big client is a good sign that people have moved on, and are on Pierce's side.

After dinner, Nate and I leave the dining room separately,
while our parents remain there chatting. We always make a show of going our
separate ways, to keep up appearances. I close my bedroom door knowing that
he'll come for me around midnight, as he has every night this past week. My
body quivers with excitement just thinking about it.

I consider writing an email to Allison, but decide I want a
little more time to think about what to say. I turn to my purse and pull out
the bag from Victoria's Secret that I stuffed to the bottom. I touch the black
lace panties, a narrow diamond-shaped piece of fabric that just covers the
essentials, with several thin strips, string, really, hooking around my hips
and latching on to the back. The bra is conservative by contrast, though pretty
with its Chantilly lace-covered cups.

I take a shower and then head downstairs for a cup of tea.
I'm taking a mug down from the top cupboard when I feel Nate come up behind me.
He wraps his hands around my waist and presses against me.

“Nate, not here!” I whisper.

“I know, I'm sorry,” he murmurs in my ear. “I just want you
all the time.”

“I have a surprise for you tonight,” I admit. He grinds his
erection into my ass in response, his hands reaching under my shirt.

“You're killing me,” he moans, then sighs, and rests his
head on mine before pulling away. “See you soon.” I lean against the counter as
I hear him retreat, my skin tingling where he's touched it. I know that
sneaking around won't work forever, but for now, there's something so hot about
it.

I take my decaf Earl Grey up to my room, and change into the
lingerie as I drink it, carefully pulling out the tags. I sink into bed with a
yawn, pulling the sheet up over me. These late night assignations, while I
wouldn't give them up for anything, are wreaking havoc on my sleep schedule.

The next thing I know, I'm being woken up by someone sinking
into bed next to me. I turn into the warmth of Nate's body and slowly open my
eyes.

“Sorry, should I just let you sleep?” he asks, kissing the
top of my head.

“No way,” I reply drowsily. “You have to have your
surprise.”

“Where is it?” he asks, looking around. I lift my arm and
point down at my body. He grins, and pinches the top of the sheet in his
fingers and begins to slowly pull it down. I bite my lip as I hear his sharp
intake of breath as he reveals my bra. He pauses, looking up at my face.

“There's more,” I promise him. He keeps pulling the sheet
down, and finally pulls it over the barely-there panties. He tosses the sheet
at my feet and runs his hand from my knee up my inner thigh.

“What shall I do with you tonight, Brynn?” he asks, eyeing
my lingerie.

“Whatever you want,” I breathe.

“Stand up,” he says abruptly. I stand, and he eyes me up and
down, licking his lips, then narrows his eyes. “You have any high shoes?”

“You mean heels?” I ask, with a smile. “Yeah.”

“Put them on.” I walk over to my closet and slip them on,
then walk back.

“Better?” I ask, turning a little so he can see me from
other angles.

“Nothing could make you look any better than you already do,
Brynn. It wasn't about your appearance, it was about your height.” I frown at
him in confusion. “Come here,” he says, walking over to the bedpost nearest to
the door. I follow him. He takes me by the hips and moves me so that my back is
pressed up against it. “You remember what happened in this exact spot? The
first time I tried to kiss you, you denied me.”

I smile. “I remember how much self-control it took.”

“Good answer. Stay there.” He walks over to my bureau and
rummages around until he pulls out a couple of my old t-shirts and then walks
back. “Close your eyes.”

I obey, and feel him wrap one of the shirts around my head,
tying it in the back but slightly to the side, so that it doesn't hit the bed
post. As he steps back, I try to open my eyes to test the blindfold, and find I
can't see anything.

“You trust me?” he asks. I nod. “Hands behind your back.
Grip the bedpost.” I feel my insides clench as I obey, spreading my palms
against the solid wood of the bed. A moment later, I feel the other t-shirt
wrapping around both my wrists and the posts, holding me securely against it.
“Pull against it.” I try, but don't get anywhere. “Good.” I can sense him
leaning in toward me, and feel the heat emanating from his body.

“Brynn, tonight I'm going to make you beg for it,
understand?” I feel his warm breath against my cheek and squirm in anticipation
against my bondage. “I'm going to deny you until you can't take it anymore.
Until you beg me. Say that you understand.”

“I understand.” He's barely touched me, and I can already
feel how wet I am against my new panties. Suddenly, I feel his fingertips on my
arm, just above where the t-shirt is holding me to the bed. He trails his
fingers lightly up my arm, barely touching me. My mouth drops open and I feel
my heart rate speed up. His fingers continue across my clavicle, then down my
other arm. As they make their way back up, I attempt to arch against him, but I
can't.

He stops for a moment, then continues, his touch leaving a
burning trail across my body. His fingers run straight down my chest and over
the middle of my bra. Just as I think he's going to skip my breasts entirely,
he moves back up and barely grazes the tops of my breasts, just above the cups.
I gasp as he makes contact, but he quickly moves away, running his fingers down
to my ribcage, then across my stomach. They dip for a moment into my belly
button, and I hope he's going to continue down to my panties, but he skips them
entirely, jumping down to the top of my thighs. He traces the length of one of
my legs, then moves to the other.

As his fingers reach the top of my left leg, he breaks off
contact. I feel sweat collect on my palms, despite the coolness of my bedroom.
Where is he? Suddenly I feel his breath on my neck. Then his tongue is inside
my ear, taking a long, languid lick. I moan, and my hands grip the bedpost more
tightly. I hear him click his tongue.

“Brynn, we've barely even started.”

I let my head fall back against the bedpost. How long is he
going to torture me? As if in response, his hand slides up my neck to my chin,
holding my face in place. His lips press against mine, roughly opening my mouth
to his tongue. Then he steps into me, his legs spreading mine open, his arms
wrapping tightly around my waist. The full contact is sweet relief, even if it
does make me want him even more. His right hand glides over my ass and pulls me
against his erection. My mouth is wide open to his, and our tongues massage
each other's.