Step Brother: Off Limits (9 page)

It took every ounce of restraint I had not to bury myself in her, but I had made a promise. I stuck my fingers inside her pussy and used her juices to lubricate my cock, stroking it harder and faster as my orgasm approached.

“Turn over,” I said. “I want to come on your tits.”

She turned onto her back, squeezing her nipple harder, pulling it, twisting it, as she rubbed her clit. Her head was thrown back as she started to make herself come, and when I ejaculated, I threw huge ropes of cum all over her tits. She rubbed the sticky white mess all over herself as she bucked and writhed with her own orgasm.

I stepped away from the bed. “Get yourself cleaned up, and leave, please,” I said, opening the door of the bedroom and walking out into the sitting room. I knew I wasn’t being very nice, but the woman was obviously a professional of some sort, and I wanted her gone. I hadn’t fucked her—as least not that I remembered—but I knew Tatum wouldn’t be happy with the scene if she walked into the hotel room right then.

I was tired, I felt guilty for having used the woman in my bed, and I felt guilty about Tatum. My head hurt, and for the first time since I’d left for the tour with my dad, I felt like the whole thing had been a big mistake.

I heard the bathroom door close, so I went back into the bedroom to get a pair of jeans. I let the room service waiter deliver the coffee, signed for the bill, added some sort of tip, and washed down a handful of aspirin.

“Coffee?” I asked, when the woman emerged from the bathroom dressed in her club attire from the night before.

“No time,” she answered with a casual wave. “Ciao. I have to get to work.”

I had no idea what she did for a living, other than fuck on camera, and I didn’t really care. I buried my face in my hands, realizing I felt nearly as empty as I had back when every day started with a bump of coke and more often than not, a hooker in my bed.

I’d wanted to be better than that, be a better man than I had been, but in a short period of time, I’d slipped right back into my old ways. I picked up my phone to text Tatum.

I miss you
.

I looked at her name on my phone, and I realized the moment I’d decided to go on this stupid fucking tour, everything had gone to shit. I’d told her I was coming home, and the minute I’d changed my mind, I’d turned into an asshole. I didn’t want to be that guy. Scrolling back through my last few phone calls, I found Rob’s name.

He sounded disgustingly bright and chipper when he answered. “Reed, my man. Didn’t expect to hear from you before dark. You were the hit of the party, man.”

“I want out,” I said.

“Out? What do you mean?”

“Out of the tour. I’m going back to Vegas on the first flight I can get.”

“No way, man. You’re booked solid for the rest of the tour.”

“Cancel the appointments.”

“Fuck you, man. You can’t just back out like this. Pussy Katt’s gonna want her money back.”

“Then I’ll give her the money back.”

“What the hell happened? When I left you at the club you had porn stars dripping off your arms, and you looked like you were having the time of your life.”

“I woke up.” I sighed. “Look, man, I appreciate all you did for me in setting this thing up, but I’m out. I gotta bail.”

“Gordon’s going to be disappointed.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“You sure about this?”

“Positive.”

I hung up and thought about calling or texting Tatum, but I decided to surprise her instead. I showered, threw my clothes in my suitcase, grabbed my tattoo equipment, and hailed a cab for Charles de Gaulle airport. I was going home to Tatum, and I couldn’t wait to show her just how much I’d missed her.

Not only did I have almost more work than I could handle at my job, working on a new case we thought could make the firm some serious money and improve the working conditions for all tipped employees in the state of Nevada, but also had my hands full outside of work, too. Stanford and I had met a couple more times, racking our brains trying to think of some way to publicly trip Tina up and get Donald to see her for who she really was. Add to that the fact that Garrett had decided he had a thing for Stanford—the man who still became tongue-tied every time my roommate walked in the room—and I hadn’t even had a moment to think about Reed, at least not until I opened my laptop with my morning coffee before work.

“Definitely fake,” I said, scrutinizing the boobs of the two women who’d been photographed hanging off my stepbrother in Paris.

Garrett leaned over my shoulder. “Agreed.” He sat next to me with one of his revolting kale smoothies. “You doing okay? You haven’t said much about Reed lately.”

“Not much to say, I guess. We talked, had phone sex, and he said he was coming home. Next thing I know, he’s gone on some rockstar bender with porn stars. Doesn’t look so good for the two of us.”

“I’m sorry, honey. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

“I guess. It just sucks, though,” I said, indulging in a little self-pity. “I’ve wanted him since I was a little girl, and now—just when he finally notices me—it all goes to shit. His white trash mother marries my father, and he finds out he’s the kid of a celebrity. Goddammit, I just wish I could have had him a little longer, without the spotlight, without the drama between our parents.”

“Well, if those are the kinds of women he prefers, he doesn’t deserve you. They look like whores.”

“You know the ironic thing?”

Garrett shook his head as he drank another sip of the green crap he started every morning with.

“I’m finally learning how to deal with the press and all the attention from my dad’s campaign.”

“I’ve been proud of you, girl. I know it was hard for you, but you’ve done it gracefully.”

“Stanford was actually a big help. He told me that if I give reporters a little information, they’re more likely to respect my privacy.”

“Ah, Stanford. How is my little Republican cutie pie?”

“Garrett, I think you’re going to lose that battle. I think he’s barricaded himself so deep in the closet, he’ll probably never see the light of day.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. Not only am I going to pry him out of the closet, but I might even come out with him.”

“No fucking way.”

“Here’s the thing, Tatum. I really like him. I like that he’s so dedicated to his work, and he really believes that an individual can make a difference in the world. He’s conscientious, and goddamn, is he cute.”

I shook my head. “I guess he’s cute in a Republican kinda way.”

“Not everyone can be a tattooed sex god like Reed. Of course, look where that’s gotten you.”

“Ouch. I know. You don’t have to point it out.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, sweetie.” Garrett hugged me with one arm. “I just want you to be happy and I don’t think he’s the man that’s gonna help you get there.”

I closed the laptop. “I think you’re right, unfortunately.”

“So when’s Stanford coming over again?”

“He’ll be here after work tonight. He’s bringing Indian carryout since I cooked last night.”

“Mind if I crash the party?”

“You know you’re always welcome.”

“Great. Well, I expect to see you at the gym after work. You’re gonna have to earn that Indian food, girl.”

“Deal.”

As I was leaving for work, I saw a text from Reed that had arrived hours before.

I miss you
.

Nothing more. I was tempted to reply right away, something about Little Miss Fake Tits, but I decided to think about it before I answered. Clearly, there wasn’t anything pressing between Reed and me at the moment. From what I could see in the pictures online, he had his hands full over in Paris.

I managed to put him out of my mind and lose myself in work, distracted only a few times by texts from Stanford. Apparently, he’d come up with a plan for Tina, and I was looking forward to hearing about it. I sweated my ass off at the gym, cursing Garrett under my breath, and arrived home with just enough time to shower before Stanford was due with dinner.

Just out of the shower, with my hair wrapped in a towel, I heard the knock at the front door and threw on a robe to go answer it.

“Hey,” I said as Stanford came in, hands full of fragrant Indian fare. “I forgot to tell you Garrett’s going to be here for dinner, too. Did you get enough?”

He looked flustered as he answered. “Of course. I hoped … um … I mean, I thought he might. There’s plenty just in case…” His voice trailed off awkwardly, and I decided to let the matter drop. Sorting out sexuality wasn’t really my area of expertise.

“Well, you can go ahead and set up in the kitchen. Let me go throw on some clothes, and I’ll be out in a sec.”

“I can’t wait to tell you my idea,” Stanford called from the kitchen.

I ran a comb through my hair, slicked a little moisturizer on my face, and headed to the drawer that held my rattiest, most comfortable clothes. When I emerged from my room in yoga pants a size too large and a frayed University of Texas sweatshirt, I knew Garrett would tease me about looking like a slob when he came home. I didn’t care.

“So fill me in,” I said, picking up one of the plates Stanford had set on the counter.

“Should we hold dinner for Garrett?” he asked. He looked at me for an answer, and when I just looked back at him, he started to stutter and blush.

I had to say something, and I decided to handle it gently. “We can, if you like. Garrett has really enjoyed hanging out. He shouldn’t be too much longer. He just had a meeting with a couple of the trainers at his gym before he could leave.”

Stanford looked down at the counter, clearly uncomfortable making eye contact. “Did he tell you he enjoyed hanging out?”

I waited to answer until Stanford looked up at me. “Yes. He did.” I decided I’d done enough. “So tell me your idea while we wait.”

Stanford opened a bottle of pinot grigio while he talked. “So Tina has a couple of weaknesses we’ve discussed. She’s an attention whore, for one. She’s sensitive about her poor background, and she’d go to great lengths—I think—to conceal her past.” He poured me a glass of wine. “With me so far?”

“Yeah. But what are we going to do with that?”

“I have a friend who works for a little independent webzine. They mostly cover fluff about celebrities in town, but he’s been wanting to branch out into more serious news. I’m thinking if I tip him off that there’s dirt in Tina’s past, he’d jump at the chance to dig into it.”

“Wait a minute. We can’t just torpedo my dad’s campaign, though. If your guy digs up dirt on Tina, that’s just going to hurt Dad.”

“Here’s the deal, Tatum. There’s never going to be an article. The guy owes me a favor, and he’s going to do some research and just pretend that he’s interviewing her for the article. I’ll point him in the right direction, tell him that she has things she’d rather people not know about—past and present—and then I’ll invite him to an event where he can corner Tina. I bet if we pour a few drinks down her throat, she’ll flip out and make a scene in public.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think that’ll be enough for Dad to divorce her.”

“It will if we can get her to offer to pay the guy off. Imagine that—a recording of Tina offering to bribe a journalist? It’s gold. Donald will have to cut her loose or watch his campaign tank.”

“But what if she doesn’t go there? Doesn’t try to bribe him, I mean.”

Stanford put his hands on his hips. “Okay, I know it’s not a perfect plan, but it’s all I’ve got. I don’t hear you coming up with something brilliant and foolproof.”

I took a sip of wine. “Fair enough.” I turned as I heard the front door open. “Let me think it over, and we’ll talk about it over dinner.”

“Tatum?” Garrett called.

“In the kitchen,” I called back. “We held dinner for you.”

“Um, look what the cat dragged in.” He walked through the door and into the kitchen, followed by the last person I expected to see.

“Reed?” I couldn’t manage to say anything else. I’m sure I looked like a fool, standing there with my mouth hanging open, but there wasn’t anything else I could do.

Garrett came in, smooth as always. “Stanford, I don’t think you’ve met Reed Randolph yet. This is Tina’s son, Tatum’s stepbrother.” He looked at me to see if I’d recovered from my shock yet.

Stanford stepped forward and held out his hand, polite as always. “Nice to meet you, Reed. I’ve heard a lot about you, both from your mother and from Tatum.”

“But,” I said, finally finding my tongue, “you’re supposed to be in Paris.”

I looked him over, head to toe, and even though he looked a little tired, I swear to God I’d never seen a sexier sight in my entire life. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, by the look of it, and his clothes were wrinkled from his travels, but I knew the body beneath those clothes, and I instantly felt the pull of the magnetic attraction that Reed had always had for me.

I needed to calm myself down before I started acting like a bitch in heat. I was pissed at Reed, I reminded myself. He’d spent the last few weeks fondling porn stars, while I’d been trying to handle real life at home.

But those blue eyes just made me melt.

“I came home. To you.”

He took a couple of steps toward me, and when I realized he planned to wrap me up in those strong arms of his, I held up a hand and retreated.

“Wait a minute. You think you can just walk in here after being gone so long and act like nothing happened?”

Stanford and Garrett looked at one another, clearly uncomfortable.

Garrett was the first to speak. “I hate to interrupt this happy reunion, but I’m starving. Shall we sit down and eat while Reed fills us in?”

Reed smiled at Garrett. “Thanks, man. I’m starving. I came straight here from the airport.”

“Whoa. I’m not going to sit down to dinner with you and act like nothing’s wrong.”

Garrett shook his head. “Suit yourself. I’m going to eat. Who’s with me?”

Stanford raised his hand like a little boy in school, and Reed nodded. The three of them started filling their plates while I stood in silence, hardly able to believe what was happening.

Finally, when it became clear that no one was going to address what I wanted to talk about—namely the fact that it appeared Reed should be able to whore his way across Europe and then waltz back into my life without so much as a phone call to let me know he was coming—I turned on my heel and left the room. I walked down the hall to my bedroom, expecting Reed to follow me, but when I closed the bedroom door, I was all alone.