Stepbrother Forever: A Stepbrother Romance (19 page)

BOOK: Stepbrother Forever: A Stepbrother Romance
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FORBIDDEN

 

A Stepbrother Romance

 

Copyright
Jessica Marx 2015

 

Published by
Ashwood Publishing

 
 
 

This book is a work of fiction. All
the characters in this book are fictitious and any similarity to any person,
living or dead, is purely coincidence.

 
 
 

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by
any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical
methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other
non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 
 

Ashley

 
 

Chapter 1

 

I
hate this scene. Crowds aren’t my thing—I think I

m tainted from the years I spent tending
bar through
college.
I’ve
been working as a server since high school and bartending since I turned
eighteen. Fortunately, that means I can spot a player from a mile away. They
may all look different on the outside, but the way they carry themselves and
look at women is all the same. And right now, one of them is looking at me.

 

I stare right back. I have no
time for games—that’s not my thing, either. I have no interest in a one-night
stand or some guy who will make me feel like a queen until he makes me do the
walk of shame. I’ve been down that road before and don’t care to visit it ever
again.

 

He starts walking toward me
through the crowd. The music is pulsing right through me and my skin is damp
from the combination of body heat and humidity on this warm summer night. His
body is defined and muscular and I can see the shape of his chiseled abs
through his fitted, collared top.

 

And he knows it.

 

He has sandy brown,
surfer-style hair in a perfect mess over his tan skin and hazel eyes. I catch
sight of a tattoo on his forearm and follow it up into his shirt sleeve,
wondering where it will lead. As he approaches I shake my yearning and catch my
breath, bringing myself back to reality. I know the truth. He may be gorgeous,
but he’s just a player like the rest of them.

 

This notion is solidified as he
draws nearer and I see the way he struts—his dick leading the way, taking him
in the direction of what he believes will be his conquest for the evening.

 

He gets dangerously close. It’s
loud in here, but not loud enough to justify him speaking right into my ear. I
keep my drink straw in my mouth and fidget with it, not knowing what else to
do.

 

“You have gorgeous legs. I
can’t wait to have them wrapped around my neck later.”

 

I choke on my drink. Is this
guy kidding? His breath in my ear makes me feel a little weak in the knees, as
much as I wish it didn’t.

 

“You don’t waste any time, huh?
Obviously, you’re looking for a different kind of girl. The only one touching
my legs tonight will be my boyfriend.”

 

Mentioning a boyfriend throws
most guys off their game. But he just stands there, smirking. Who does this guy
think he is?

 

“I’m not looking for a
different kind of girl. I just don’t believe in games. You’re hot, I’m hot, and
together we can have an amazing night, so why not just cut to the chase?”

 

I see my friend Rachel making
her way back from the bathroom and I’m relieved. She is the perfect wing-woman.
We’ve been friends since grade school and she’s like a sister to me. She has a
gorgeous face and the body to match, but she’s also a no-nonsense kind of girl
with a dry sense of humor. She’s just what I need to take this guy down a peg.

 

That’s
what I want to do, right?

 

I don’t know why, but this
cocky asshole is actually turning me on. Something about him is getting to me.
I’ve always fallen for the wrong guys, especially the ones who ooze the bad-boy
thing, but I’m happy now with Michael and our mundane routine. He’s different
than any other man I’ve met, and I keep telling myself that’s a good thing.

 

Rachel is back and questioning
if I’m okay with her eyes. Mr. Smooth extends his hand. I notice it’s just as
tanned and strong as the rest of him. He must work with his hands. I start
imagining my breasts cupped inside of them while he whispers all the dirty
things he’s going to do to me into my ear.

 

Damn him. This isn’t fair.

 

“I’m Jayson. Your friend caught
my eye from across the room.”

 

“Rachel,” she says in that
clipped sort of way she does when she wants someone to get lost. “And I know
Ashley isn’t interested. She has a boyfriend. So thanks, but no thanks.”

 

“So I heard. I don’t see him
around, though. If Ashley was my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her out of my
sight—especially in a place like this,” Jayson answers.

 

Hearing my name roll off his
tongue makes me weak in the knees. I don’t know why, but I feel the need to
justify Michael’s whereabouts—as I had been doing more and more often lately.

 

“He has a presentation in the
morning, so he couldn’t stay out,” I say with much more conviction than I
actually feel. Where the fuck was he, anyway? He used to find a way to spend
time with me no matter what. These days, it’s all late nights at work and no
time for fun.

 

Still, I don’t have to explain
myself to this guy. Some over-sexed jerk isn’t going to make me question the
first healthy relationship I’ve ever had.

 

“Guess you’re the loyal type,”
Jayson says, giving me another once-over and a knowing grin. “Damn. I hope your
boyfriend knows how lucky he is.”

 

I can feel the weight of his
stare pressing down on me, like he can undress me with the sheer power of his
gaze, leaving me naked and on display.

 

“I’ll be sure to let him know,”
I say and take another sip of my drink. I can’t believe how aroused I am by
this guy. I shake my head. Total player, through and through.

 

I try to be a little cocky
myself and reach out my hand. “Good luck tonight,” I say, hoping he’ll note the
sarcasm in my tone, and smile as he holds my hand a little too long. The bulge
in his jeans is unmistakable. My face flushes and a current of heat surges
between my legs. If he spends one more minute here I might not be able to keep
it together or sound like the cocky bitch I’m trying to be right now.

 

We hold hands for a few seconds
longer before Rachel breaks it up.

 

“Great meeting you, Jayson.
We’re gonna go enjoy the rest of the night. Without you,” Rachel says in her
super-bitch tone. He turns and walks away, giving me one more look. I’m melting.
The moisture on my skin has spread all over and I now notice how damp I am in
all the right places. I give myself just a few more seconds to fantasize about
him and then notice Rachel is talking to me and I have no idea what she’s been
saying.

 

We finish our drinks and I find
myself searching the bar for another look at Jayson. I know he’s an asshole who
by now has undoubtedly latched on to another girl, but the few minutes I spent
in his presence were electric. I wanted to rip his clothes off and tell him to
fuck off all at the same time. I’ve never felt something so strong with a man,
and I can’t help but start to fantasize about him again.

 

The feeling is fleeting,
though, as I notice him way across the bar talking to a gorgeous blonde. She
can’t keep her hands off him and he doesn’t seem to mind. By the look of
things, he forgot about me the moment he walked away.
Typical.

 

Rachel and I make our way
through the crowd and toward the door. I take one more glance over to where I
had spotted Jayson and see he’s on the receiving end of the bar slut version of
a lap dance. Good thing I have Michael, or I might have been stupid enough to
fall for this guy. Rachel sees me looking and rolls her eyes.

 

“Are you seriously looking at
that douchebag? You’re way too good for a guy like that,” she reminds me.

 

We leave the bar and I decide I’m
going to stop by Michael’s. I’m feeling a little worked up and wouldn’t mind a
late-night booty call. I send him a text that I’m stopping by as Rachel and I
say goodnight and get into separate cabs.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

JAYSON

 

Chapter 2

 
 

I’ve seen her type a thousand
times. Tight, fit body and legs for days. She wanted guys to look at her but I
can tell by her stance she isn’t looking for a hook-up. That doesn’t mean I
won’t try.

 

I

ve never had a problem meeting women, or
more importantly, screwing them. Sometimes they can

t resist long enough to even make it back
to my place. Those are the easy ones. The one I have my eye on now, though—she
looks like a challenge.

 

I love long hair and have a
thing for brunettes. She has perfect dark curls hanging over her breasts,
forcing me to notice how heavy and round they are. I see her glance over and
notice me looking at her, but I don’t stop staring. I like having the upper
hand and I know how to make a woman squirm before I even get her to the
bedroom.

 

She’s holding her straw in her
mouth and her lips look so tasty wrapped around it. I bet they’d feel like
heaven around my cock.

 

She holds my gaze and I work my
eyes up her long legs to the bottom of her skirt. It would be so easy to tear
her panties off and fuck her right there. I’m pretty sure that’s what short
skirts are made for.

 

I start walking over, feeling
my pants get a little tighter as I imagine her legs wrapped around me while I
tease her with the tip of my cock, making her beg for it like they all
eventually do. I can tell she’s going to play hard to get, but I see her sizing
me up and by the look in her eye, I know she thinks I’m hot.

 

And why wouldn’t she?

 

I decide to cut to the chase. I
make sure to breathe a little heavy against her neck as I speak softly into her
ear. “You have gorgeous legs. I can’t wait to have them wrapped around my neck
later.”

 

The look on her face is
priceless, which is what I was going for. I see her fumble with the straw she’s
holding in her mouth and I laugh to myself, knowing I’ve taken her off guard.
So far, so good.

 

She doesn’t tell me to fuck
off, which is another good sign. She mentions her boyfriend, but I’m not sure
if that’s true or just a way to try and brush me off. Doesn’t matter—I’ve had
plenty of taken women. She won’t be the first, or the last.

 

I catch her looking at someone
and glance over to see if it’s the boyfriend she mentioned. It’s much worse
than that—it’s her friend, who has a look on her face like she’s ready for war.
Everything about her screams “cock-blocker.” I can tell by her walk and the
determined line of her jaw that she’s ready to protect her friend from the evil
player.

 

But like you may have guessed
by now, I’m always up for a challenge.

 

After a few comebacks and brush
offs, I can tell I’m not going to get anywhere. Her body is an open book. The
way her cheeks flush red when I look at her. The way her legs part ever so
slightly. She’s definitely into me, and I’m dying for a taste, but tonight’s
not my night. Cock-block McGee is dead-set on pulling her out of my reach.

 

I make sure to look her in her
eyes when I say goodnight and I feel the heat pass between us when our hands
touch. The way she trembles tells me I could make her cum effortlessly, and I
would love to do it to her over and over. I wanna see her go crazy. My mouth
gets dry just imagining the little glint of madness in her eyes when I push her
past the brink of coherent thought. But that’s all a fantasy, ‘cause she’s
letting her friend shoo me away now.

 

Her loss.

 

I walk away, knowing I’ll go
home with someone else tonight, which is enough to satisfy me for the time
being. Still, part of me knows that it would be different with her—that if I
could find a way to get her into my bed, I might finally be satisfied.

 

That’s the part of me that
still throbs long after I’ve got my dick wet and found my release—the part of
me that demands more, more, more. The part of me that demands I find
her
again.

 

Next time, I won’t give up so
easy.

 
 

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