The Billionaire Stepbrother (2015)



I reached up and rubbed my arms. I felt cold again. Chris was asking for an answer that I knew he wasn’t ready to hear. I looked at him and knew he wasn’t ready. He would probably never be. We’d shared our thoughts tonight, but a confession of love would lead to nothing good. Yet, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out a reason why I thought not to tell Chris that I loved him. Maybe it was simply because I’d held on to the secret for so long? But what did it matter? I’d already kissed him. He’d already experienced just a touch of my desire for him. Even if I wasn’t his sister, Chris already had enough reason to want me out of his life. Chris didn’t do relationships and he had to know that I would want one. I didn’t just sleep with every man I found attractive. It took more than that.

I needed something to distract me from what was happening. I needed clothes. The safe confines of a hoodie. I started for the door. “I’m going to change.” I opened the door and started for his room. All of my clothes were in there. Oh yeah, I’d taken drawer space, too. I’d really moved in.

I knew Chris had followed me, but the nearness of his voice confirmed it. “Why did you kiss me?”

I’d just made it to a dresser when his hand came over mine. I slowly lifted my eyes to look at him. He didn’t ask me his question again, but his look was expecting.

“Because I’m in love you.” Why not tell him? I was already moving out tomorrow. Other lines had been crossed already. There was really no point in holding on to the secret any longer. It didn’t matter. Chris could know.

I watched him, looked into his eyes, and saw nothing. He gave no reaction for a long while, until finally, he gave a heavy sigh and shook his head. He started to back away from me, continuing to deny what was happening, trying to remove himself from a situation that he didn’t want to be in. I didn’t stop him. I let him back away and watched him walk out the door.

Once he was gone, I expected to feel something. I expected to feel pain—hurt. Anything. But I didn’t. Maybe I was going to have one of those late reactions. You know? The kind that came hours or days later? Maybe my mind was still in shock over the fact that I’d just told the man I loved how I felt, or maybe, just maybe, a part of me had been prepared for his rejection. Chris running into my arms, now that would have been something to see, but it was highly unlikely. So unlikely, that I had to laugh.

I reached behind my back and began to unzip the dress. My hands shook the entire time. The late reaction was kicking in. My mind wasn’t aware of it, but my body was. I managed to get the dress undone, breathing calmly as I worked, trying to get my nerves under control. With the dress finally off, all I had left to change out of was my underwear. I was currently wearing a thong, not something any woman wanted to sleep in.

I slipped the underwear off and then reached into the drawer for something more comfortable to change into, but I couldn’t find anything. As I frantically pushed clothes around, I realized that the reason I couldn't find anything was because I couldn’t see anything. My vision was blurry. It was blurry, because I was crying.

I felt the first tear slide down my cheek just as I was abruptly turned around. A pair of lips found mine and I heard myself automatically moan. My hands rested on a large pair of shoulders. A second later, I realized it was Chris. Chris was kissing me, touching me, and my body had known it before my mind did.

Chris’ touch was not kind, but rough, fueled with need. His hands explored me everywhere, frantically, as if he was scared I’d disappear into thin air if he stopped. I realized then that we were not about to make love. We were going to fuck. We were going to do the thing that had been forbidden to us—seek pleasure from one another.

I was backed up into the dresser. The back of my thighs hit the edge of the wooden surface just before I felt Chris’ hand reach around my back, and in one powerful move, lift me off the floor. I heard the items from the dresser being swept to the floor just before everything made a loud crash. Things broke, but I didn’t care, and I don’t think Chris cared either.

My hands slid down Chris’ chest, and I realized he still had all his clothes on. It angered me. I wanted, no, needed to feel his warm flesh against mine. I needed to feel it underneath my hands. Now. My fingers found a hole between two buttons and yanked hard against the fabric. The buttons from his expensive shirt spilled to the floor. Then my hands were moving to tear the fabric from his arms, jerking them over his massive biceps. He helped me and then pulled the undershirt over his head. My eyes barely glanced at his chest. I knew it was impressive, rock hard abs and all. I’d seen it before, but he still had clothes on, pants, and I wanted them all off.

I fumbled on his belt, but eventually got it undone and immediately started for the button and zipper on his pants. While I worked, Chris’ hands massaged up my thighs, inching higher and higher, getting close, but never close enough. It was so distracting. It drove me mad. With his pants undone, I pulled them down. The underwear went with them, as far as I could tell from my position on top of the dresser. I only stopped when his member popped out to greet me. One look at it and I knew that I’d never wanted anything so bad in my life. It was the one thing I’d always coveted. Every time I knew another woman had experienced it, I’d gone mentally mad with jealousy. It was in those moments that I hated who I was. I hated being Chris’ sister, but now, now it was mine. All mine, and I wanted every inch of it. I wrapped my hand around it just as Chris’ fingers finally found the spot on me that I’d been waiting for him to touch.

We sighed. It was exhilarating. Magic. It was like we’d finally reached a place that we’d both been searching for. It was that feeling of finality. Rightness. It should have felt wrong, but it didn’t. It was so right. This was right. My hand began to slide over every vein and ridge and his finger began to explore me as well. All the while, we stared into each other’s eyes, watching one another, seeing what pleased the other. It was the most intense experience of my life. Watching Chris’ hooded pale eyes while I stroked him, feeling him inside of me, hearing nothing but our heavy breathing filling the air around us. It was a moment of intimacy in its purest form. It was something that went beyond just sex. This moment would be engraved in my mind for the rest of my life. Vivid and alive.

I threw my head back, my hand stopped just as Chris found it. My spot. I dropped my hold on him and my hands found the edge of the dresser. I was so lost to the manipulation of his hands that I screamed the moment I felt Chris replace his fingers with his mouth. I screamed and I kept screaming as I came and I didn’t stop screaming until I felt my world began to slide away.

Then Chris was holding me. I felt my body hit the cool sheets of the bed just as I felt the warmth of his body cover mine. His lips found mine, waking me up, reenergizing my body, fanning the fire in my body, spreading its flames through my veins. My hands cupped his face, my legs went about his body, and I felt his throbbing member lying against my entrance, pressing into my folds.

Chris slipped away from my body for a moment and I heard him open the bedside dresser. I sat up. “Don’t.”