Authors: Kathryn Kelly
Waves roll onto the sand, the rush of the water energizing me and soothing away my disappointment over Dad’s sudden decision to have only Steffie and I spend the day on the yacht with him. The sun is just cresting on the horizon, turning the sky a flaming pink-orange. The guys would’ve enjoyed the sight, even though they’re as hung over as I am.
Then, again, maybe they’d tell me to fuck my awe of the beauty of the sunrise. They appreciate Dad’s changed plans. Maitland and Adam understand, and Quint’s surly
, so I didn’t take his annoyance personal.
“Fuck, man, I got up for nothing!” he’d bit out less than an hour ago when I gave him the news as he stumbled to his feet.
“Yeah, well, dude. Life happens,” I’d countered, not in the mood for his shit. “Deal with it or suck my dick.”
He’d decided to deal with it.
On the bright side, Kiln and his death glares, and Jaeger and his superiority will be absent. It’ll just be me, Dad, and Steffie. Although some of Dad’s recent behavior has been questionable, I don’t mind spending time with him. Same for Steffie. The girl has a heart the size of Texas.
I love her a lot.
Besides, Steffie is anxious to hear the song I wrote. For days, the guys and I have been refining the tune.
We’ve put the room Dad converted into my studio—at Mom’s urging—to good use. We spend most of our spare time in there. I say
because we have school,
we have dicks requiring female attention. Jerking off gets old.
The studio is a private room, far away from our living quarters. Though it’s soundproof, Dad doesn’t want a steady stream in and out of the house. That might disturb Mom. I didn’t feel one way or the other about using a servant’s entrance into the house and the back staircase up to the second floor, until the
Event That Changed Everything
. Naked girls with their tits jiggling. Reefer being passed around.
Last weekend, we invited a few girls over to listen to one of our sessions. Somehow, it became…an orgy. Fuck, I’ve never had my dick sucked so well. When I become famous, I’ll require daily blowjobs. Every time I think of what those girls did, I snicker to myself and my face heats up. Though the experience was the best fucking thing to have ever happened, I’d never fucked in front of another dude, nor had I ever fucked more than one girl in the span of several hours. Or two girls at the same time, one on my mouth, and one on my dick.
My dick springs to life at the memory and I sigh in frustration. Okay, I don’t mind spending time with Dad and Steffie, but I’d prefer to pass the hours inside a girl.
Over the past year, since I’ve gotten my muscles, a heavier voice, and more height, I’ve enjoyed a lot of pussy. Older girls are the way to go. Fuck sex ed. Coed pussy is the Ph.D classes in mastering the art of fucking, although if I have a choice between college pussy and an orgy with high school girls, the orgy wins out. In this instance, quantity beats quality.
I’m determined to repeat last weekend, as soon as humanly possible. It’s fucking sad we’re at our beach house for
weekend. My dick might go on fucking strike, it’s so disappointed.
I halt at my sister’s call. Turning, I grin at her dead run, her dark hair flying. She has a skirt thing around her one-piece bathing suit. I think she calls it a sarong, but I’m not into girls’ fashions, so I’m not sure.
Average-sized and slender, Steffie has no curves. She calls me out all the time when I mention that. This time is no different.
“You’re my brother, Slo. Stop sizing me up.”
“Get over it. I don’t want you in a sexual way. That’s fucking disgusting. I’m your little brother. I need ammunition.”
She flips me off, and I howl with laughter. My sister is a sought-after introvert. I don’t know many shy social butterflies, but Steffie manages just that.
Though I just saw her last night and we challenged each other on the piano, she hugs me. Happiness fills her sea foam green eyes. Minus the bitchiness, Steffie takes after her mom in looks while I in no way resemble mine. Jaeger and I share Dad’s blue eyes. Kiln’s the fucking hybrid with blue-green eyes.
Steffie looks me up and down. When her face blazes a bright red, I know her problem, so I fold my arms and smirk.
“Speedos, Slo? Like, really?” She rolls her eyes and snorts. “Who wants to see the imprint of your junk?”
“You’d be surprised,” I retort, winking. Girls enjoy a flirtatious wink now and then. Even sisters. They can be charmed, too, right? “Women fall all over me.”
Steffie pretends immunity to me and sniffs. Deep down, she’s proud to have such an outgoing brother. “Uh, disgusting,” she insists. “You’re sixteen. Not some badass rocker—”
,” I interrupt with confidence. If I have my way, I’ll soon be a
badass rocker. The guys and I already have a fucking rad-ass name for our band.
Fire and flames are already in my head, shooting high into the air, as I ascend from a stage and girls scream my name. I jerk off to those thoughts and come all over the place when I imagine how much girls will love and adore me.
“I can still be your manager, right?”
“Who else would we have?” I ask in all seriousness though I’m going to pair her off with someone. Otherwise, she’ll do some serious cockblocking.
she needs some fun. My sister is so caring, but, I swear, sometimes it seems as if she carries a two-ton boulder on her back.
Steffie is the one who gifted me with my first guitar. I’ve moved on to lead and rhythm, but I’ll forever love the acoustic. Her, too, for helping me to find my talent.
“Can you imagine?” she whispers to me, a gust of wind whipping her hair around. “My baby brother and his band rising like the Phoenix. In spite of Daddy.”
I grimace. “Why’d you have to go and ruin my fucking day, Stef?”
The great Rand Mason wants his sons on the same team. He doesn’t doubt my talent, but since Kiln is an asshead and Jaeger is an asslicker, he wants us all to work together. As in
play a role in
band, behind the scenes.
Why the fuck would I allow that? Dad’s blood links us, but we fucking despise each other. They’d sabotage me before they would do anything else.
Unless I concede to his demands, Dad has sworn to not lift one finger to help us. He has contacts coming out his ass. Entertainment, politics, business. You name it. He has it.
At one time, my father could do no wrong. Once he reconnected with his children from his first marriage, he changed. As a result, I’ve changed, too. Fuck, I hope he hasn’t arranged our day together to talk about my band. He believes Steffie can get through to me about Kiln and Jaeger when she hasn’t succeeded yet, and neither has Mom.
A growl grabs my attention. Before I hone in on the culprit, the sound goes off again. It’s Steffie’s stomach. I hoot with laughter.
“I’m hungry,” she mumbles.
“I’m not.” More like hung over, a condition best kept secret. She’d cluck in disapproval.
I dislike disappointing my sister almost as much as I hate letting my mother down.
My parents are complete opposites. My father has a huge personality. Mom is quiet, especially in public, a thinker. She’s apt to listen but speaks only to add something valuable to the conversation.
Yawning, I scratch my chest. Fuck, but I’m quite the insightful asshole this morning, aren’t I?
Steffie scrunches her nose, her gaze roaming over my biceps.
“You need to…I don’t know…you look older,” she complains. “My friends like you.”
Some of them
like me. Again, my education in the art of fucking is bar none. A far cry from the night, last year, when I lost my virginity. A fucking disaster from start to finish.
I lift my arm and flex my muscles, earning an eye roll and another irritated sniff.
“God, can you get a little more modest?”
“Probably not,” I retort. “I can flex my dick, too. Wanna see?”
“You’re such a fucking perve, Slo!” she yells. “A gross one.” Her blush spreads down her neck and along the modest line of her bathing suit’s scooped top.
I’d bet my fucking inheritance Steffie’s a virgin. I’m too proud of my heritage to willingly gamble away the huge empire I’ll one day acquire. However, I also know a sure thing. Offering the Mason wealth on the presence—or not—of Steffie’s hymen, would net me a fortune.
Folding my arms, I offer her an under-eyed look. “Since we’re on the subject, how many lovers have you had?” I ask casually.
“Um, yeah, we kind of were.”
My subject change deflects us from this awkward—on her part—and amusing—as I see it—conversation. Though it thrusts us into an even
uncomfortable and hilarious talk, it’s moved away from me. It also tests my theory on what I think I know about my big sister.
“Well? How many?”
At the determined set of my jaw, her mouth drops open. She’s going to provide me with an answer and we’re both aware protests are useless. “You’ve reached a new low.”
“You’re going to manage the world famous Phoenix Rising Rock Band. You’ll get a few groupies yourself. How much experience do you have to offer?”
“I haven’t had any lovers.” She twists some of her hair around her fingers and scowls at me. “If you tell Brenda, I’ll kill you.”
“Why would I rat you out?” Especially to Brenda, her BFF and a bitch to the extreme. We mutually detest one another. But we’ve had some damn good angry sex. What can I say? She’s fucking hot—body, face, and pussy. Blondes have been my type forever. Not sure why. It’s just a fact, like rain falling from clouds.
“F.I.O.M. alert,” Steffie chirps, biting down on her lip.
Father in our midst.
Dad strides toward us, dressed in swimming trunks, his chest bare and his shades on his head. Parts of his silver hair stick up, like little horns. He’s way past middle-aged and has moved into senior citizen territory. However, he still has a decent body and shows it off at every opportunity.
“You two ready to spend your day with me?” he asks in greeting, looking between us.
Steffie sidles closer to me. She can handle Kiln and Jaeger, but she’s scared shitless of Dad. I’ve always wondered why.
“Sloane, your mother needs to talk to you. Meet Stefanie and me at the dock.” He half turns to indicate a sandy pathway that’ll lead me to it. “We’ll be waiting on the yacht for you, so there’s no need to rush.”
“Mom needs to talk to me?”
Mom is the one who woke me up this morning, knowing I’d dismissed my alarm clock, as usual. It stands to reason if she’d had anything to say, she would’ve told me then.
“Yes, son. She needs to talk to you. Don’t keep my Bryn waiting.”
Of course not. My father is over-the-top with everything concerning my mother—
Bryn. If she’s not happy, no one is. Adam’s dad always jokes that
if all’s right with the wife, then all’s right with life
. But, fuck, there’s them, and then there’s Rand and Bryn Mason.