Stepbrother Studs Quinn

BOOK: Stepbrother Studs Quinn
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eXcessica publishing

 

Stepbrother Studs: Quinn
© June 2015 by Selena Kitt

 

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

 

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

 

Excessica LLC

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Cover design © 2015 M. Mantas

 

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MOXIE

By Selena Kitt

 

High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!

BOOK DESCRIPTION

Viv has a secret. Her super-sexy indie rocker stepbrother, Quinn, drives her crazy. With lust. She knows she shouldn’t want him the way she does, but spending every waking, aching moment with him, on stage and otherwise, is both pure torture and pure bliss.

They’ve worked for years to get their band, Strange Angels, recognized, to make up for their parents abandoning them—and they’re finally on their way. They even have groupies who want nothing more than to sleep with the lead singers of Strange Angels.

Viv is happy to comply—but only because it gives her an excuse to be closer to Quinn. Almost as close as she wants to be.

Then, one night, the stepsiblings cross a barrier that was never meant to be crossed, and discover a backstage door to the sweetest song they’d ever imagined.

 

 

 

I’d forgotten about the Bible I’d left open on the mattress. Before the show, I’d been flipping through the pages, looking for my favorite passage—II Samuel 13:14, the story about Amnon and Tamar, raised as siblings in the court of King David. Amnon had fallen in love with Tamar and lured her to his bed where he forced her to have sex with him and then spurned her due to his own self-loathing.

The Gideon’s Bible still lay on the bed, opened to that page, symbolic of our relationship. Although we shared no blood link, the story still was a reminder of the forbidden nature of my desire. I closed it and slid it under my pillow.

“I can’t believe I have Quinn Perry’s dick in mouth!”

I glanced across the mattress at Quinn. His mouth was quirked up at one side, but stretched into a wider grin when I rolled my eyes. How many times had some star-struck groupie said that as she’d slurped on his cock?

Reaching across, I fisted my hand in her long hair and gave it a tug, forcing her to take his cock while I gave him a sly smile. “Seeing as you could talk, buttercup, you didn’t have his dick in your mouth—
now
, you’ve got bragging rights.”

Her friend giggled but didn’t need any coaxing to continue to lick up and down my slit. She was a greedy bitch. One hand was busy tugging his balls while the slender fingers of the other worked their way inside me. Their male friend, his name forgotten along with the two women’s, knelt beside me, his dick in hand because he couldn’t seem to figure out how to insert himself into our little orgy.

When Quinn arched a brow and tilted his chin toward him, I knew what he wanted. He liked to watch me fuck, so I nudged away the girl between my legs and got on my knees. The blonde’s eyes were a little glazed from the weed she’d shared with her friends when they first entered our suite, but she smiled and waited while I rolled over and went to my knees. “Get a condom on him.”

I didn’t even bother trying to sound polite. I’d been in charge from the moment we’d left the House of Blues and been swamped by fans on the sidewalk. Our band, Strange Angels, was becoming a cult favorite. Our blend of
un
pop rock, steeped in traditional blues and rock-a-billy, gave our music a unique flavor—tough to pigeon-hole as either rock or Indie. Something that had kept the labels shaking their heads because they didn’t quite know how to market us—but that was changing. Our fan base was growing, and we played to packed houses. Our indie-produced, streaming videos were getting the kind of attention that had promoters and agents knocking on our doors. Fans who found us knew our stars were rising, so finding sexual partners to help us release a bit of tension after a gig wasn’t hard.

I’d taken one look at the cozy foursome who’d been so eager to take selfies with Quinn and I after the show and invited them to join us in our hotel suite for a party.

They’d been thrilled and had no clue until we reached the room exactly what I wanted until I gathered every one of their cell phones and locked them in the room safe, and then began stripping off my clothes. All in their late teens and freshmen at Loyola, they’d watched like avid little puppies. The girls had been thrilled and stripped quickly, before turning their greedy gazes on Quinn and divesting him of every bit of his clothing. One male friend had been only too eager to get the party started, but once he’d rolled a joint and shared it around, he’d been content to fist himself as he watched us from the sofa.

The other male had stilled, his mouth gaping just a little until I’d stood naked in front of him. “Well, do you want to fuck?” I’d asked, giving him a smile. The question hadn’t been necessary given the boner pressing against the front of his baggy jeans.

And now here we were, him looking a little worried as the blonde rolled a condom down his cock. He ringed the base and squeezed, his reddening face beginning to perspire. He’d shoot like a rocket the moment he slid inside me, so I looked at his girlfriend and decided she’d have to be the one to provide my pleasure. I wasn’t choosy. Girl or guy. I liked cunts and cocks equally.

Only that was a bit of a lie.

I loved
one
man’s cock above everything, but going
there
was too dangerous to consider. My stepbrother and I might share lovers, and now and then we might accidently kiss each other’s parts in passing as we drew pleasure from our orgies, but that’s all we could allow. Our professional relationship wasn’t something we could risk with something stupid like falling in love.

When the blonde finished cloaking her friend, I patted the mattress and waited as she slid beneath me with her head at my pussy, her nicely shaved cunt beneath my mouth. Knowing Quinn would watch and get off on the visual, I bent and stuck out my tongue, letting him see it dance on her clit. I flicked and fluttered at it, then latched onto it with my lips, drawing again and again until it grew hard against my tongue and her moans filled the room. When her thighs quivered, I drew harder until she came.

After a pause, her hands tightened on my hips, and she raised her head to lick at my seam, up and down, until the mattress gave behind me. Her friend gripped my ass as he centered his cock, nudging to find his way—me wriggling to help him target my entrance. When he pushed inside, I let my eyelids fall lazily down as I locked gazes with Quinn.

For just a second, something dark entered his eyes. His jaw tightened, but when I moaned and began to move, shoving back to greet the cock thrusting inside me, his expression changed again. His eyelids dipped, and his breath quickened. The hand tangled in the blonde’s long hair fisted as he pumped upwards to take her mouth. He moved in short jerks, his breath growing harsh, his gaze boring into mine, all while he fucked the girl’s mouth.

Watching him, I imagined his cock was the one pumping inside me. Our gazes lingered, and then I gave into the urge and leaned toward him, waiting as he raised his head. We shared a deep kiss. This was as much as we’d ever allowed—kisses, careful caresses—but this time, his fingers tugged the tip of my breast, pinching it hard, and I climaxed, accompanied by the shout of the male behind me as his hips slapped my bottom.

As I swayed, my body slackening, tears began to fill my eyes. I knew the only reason I had become aroused, the only reason I came, was due to Quinn. I was in love with my brother. Always had been. These wild orgies provided me the cover to experience a taste of what making love with him could be.

Quinn looked away, then gave a deep yawn. He pulled the girl off his cock and gave her a smile. “That was lovely, but we’ve an appointment.”

“But it’s almost midnight,” she whined. Her hand slid around his cock and gave it a tug.

Quinn’s gaze narrowed on her, and she slowly pulled her fingers away. “Sorry. I know you have important stuff to do.”

The guy behind me had already pulled free. The girl beneath me edged off the bed. As they began to dress, Quinn and I sat on the mattress, our gazes not quite meeting as we watched each other from the corners of our eyes.

But the silence stretched uncomfortably. I took a shaky breath. “I’m getting a quick shower. I want to work.”

“Be quick. I’ll come with.”

I gave a vague nod, happy he wanted to leave with me, and slid off the bed.

* * * *

The elevator doors slid closed. In one hand I held the Gideon’s bible—as though it would protect me from the emotions roiling inside me.

Quinn reached out and closed his hand around mine, our fingers intertwined. My heart beat like a drum, because I relished the connection.

“We can’t do this anymore.” Quinn released a deep breath.

I turned to study his expression. His dark eyes were hooded by a frown.

“Do what? Fuck groupies?”

“Pretend it isn’t about us.”

I swallowed. The slow elevator dinged as it passed the fourth floor. “Quinn, we’ve talked about this before. I don’t want to fuck up what we have.”

“What we have is each other, Viv. You and me.” His hand went to my hair, fingers sifting through the long brown strands. He gripped it tight and pulled me toward him.

I didn’t resist even though the bell dinged again. I stood on tiptoe and placed my free hand on his shoulder. Our mouths glided together, and then he thrust his tongue inside mine. I tasted toothpaste and rum—and him—and all my want exploded. I rubbed my belly against his cock, still upright and thick inside his jeans.

He groaned and ground himself against me while his hands roamed my ass for another ding and then another. We drew back as the doors slid open, then hand-in-hand hurried to valet parking where we asked for a taxi to take us to our tour bus, stowed in an RV park.

Once there, we climbed into the RV, our home on wheels, our sanctuary. When the other band members traveled with us, we stuck to the back room and wrote our songs atop Quinn’s bed. This night, we headed to the back without turning on lights, glad our friends were enjoying the hotel, because we’d be alone. Completely.

In the darkness, we undressed. I crawled across his king-sized bed and lay on the covers. I spread my legs as the mattress dipped, and guided him over me. I didn’t need light to know what he looked like, how fierce his expression would be, how thick and beautiful his cock was as it nudged my pussy, centering, then plunging inside.

His cock crowded my walls, stretching me more than the cock I’d taken not an hour before. He stroked straight inside, not stopping until his groin met mine.

I couldn’t believe we were here. Our bodies locked together. My pussy pulsed, clasping around him, greedily squeezing as moisture drenched my channel.

He ground against me, his pubic hair abrading my clit. I undulated right back, needing him to be as deep and connected as two people could ever be.

“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” he said, rubbing his cheek against mine.

I liked the way his stubble felt against my cheek. Turning my head, I ran my lips along his jaw until he lifted his head and our mouths met.

His kiss was gentler than I expected. Reverent, even. Surprising in its purity. Our mouths melded. The tips of our tongues tasted then lapped.

He rose over me, bracing on his hands, and then he slowly pulled out of me.

I moaned and tried to follow him.

His chuckle was low and dirty.

I smiled at the sound of it—then gasped as he stroked back inside, filling me again. I’d never been this full—stuffed with his cock. I circled my hips as he slid inside, helping him screw deep.

He pounded into me again and again, until my head thrashed on the mattress and I grew delirious with the pleasure, melting around him.

The inky black cloaking our indiscretion freed me to give myself to Quinn. My hands floated over his back, nails tracing the deep indention of his spine. I caressed his ass, palming both sides, urging him to move faster as he powered into me.

I’d been fucked plenty of times—had taken what I needed—but more as a release from tension, something strenuous to blow off steam. This was different. This was magical and so much hotter than anything I’d ever experienced.

More than knowing whose cock was drilling me, knowing it was Quinn—my brother, my best friend—made it special and deeply meaningful, at least to me.

“Baby, I’ve never felt this way,” he whispered.

He surprised a sob from me. I wasn’t alone, then, in thinking this was special, that this moment was somehow destined.

Our movements grew more desperate, rougher. Arousal was a quick, steep incline, quickly conquered, and I flew free, crying out his name.

When he’d climaxed, he tucked me against his body and held me until our breathing quieted.

The silence stretched. I held my breath. Now that we weren’t connected, I wasn’t sure how much of what we’d said, what we’d felt, was real.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to sneak around, Viv.”

“Neither do I, but I’m scared. What happens when you get bored? And what will people think?”

“Get bored?” He snorted. “Seriously? You blew my mind.” His arm tightened around me. “And baby, we aren’t related by blood. Hell, we’ve been together,
more
than brother and sister to each, other since mom and dad abandoned us.”

Our hippie parents had left for an ashram in India when we were teens. We’d earned money busking on the streets until we’d formed a band. Now six years later, finding food and shelter wasn’t an issue, but we were still each other’s constants. Never apart.

I hated that he was disappointed in my reluctance, but someone had to be smart. “Maybe we only feel this way because we’ve never been apart. Never let anyone else in.”

“You don’t believe that.” Quinn gave me a hard squeeze.

I didn’t but I needed to say it for his sake. Anything to make him slow down and think his way through this. Quinn always went wherever his emotions led. A quality that kept every gaze glued on him when he performed and made his lyrics so powerful. But if his desire ever waned, if his glance ever strayed, I wasn’t sure I could take it. “What I believe, big brother, is that we’ve both been fighting this thing so long we’re confusing it for something more than what it is.”

“What do you think it is, baby girl?”

“The deep, dark forbidden. Something we shouldn’t want, but all the more attractive because we do.”

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