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Authors: Penny Blake

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BOOK: Stepbrother's Kiss
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Chapter 6

Present day

              In front of Gloria’s Wine Bar on Third Avenue, I check the time on my cell phone again.

I’d made good time on public transportation and got here a little early, but I can’t stomach the thought of getting here first, so I walk around the block twice in order to walk in fifteen minutes late.

              I’m not sure why, but it makes me feel more in control to keep him waiting. 

              It’s a dark bar with black leather booths and exposed brick walls.  On each scarred wood table is a single red rose in a plastic bud vase.

              Blaze is sitting in a booth in the back corner, wearing a white cotton dress shirt that’s rolled up at the elbows, revealing muscular forearms.  Even in the dim light, there’s no missing how perfectly his shirt stretches over the muscled contours of his powerful shoulders and chest.  And even though it shouldn’t surprise me, it does: he still gives me butterflies even after all these years.

              At the table, he carelessly holds a tumbler of whisky on the rocks in his hand, and in front of my chair is a glass of red wine.

              “I hope it’s okay that I took the liberty of ordering for you,” he says.  “That’s a California Zinfandel I thought you’d enjoy.”

              I take a sip and it’s so heavenly that my eyes nearly roll back in my head.  Smooth and velvety, it slides down my throat with ease and fills my whole body with welcome warmth. 

              “How is it?” he asks with a knowing smirk.

              I shrug a shoulder.  “It’s okay.”

              His smirk remains in place, which annoys me, so I say, “How’s the fiancée?” I take another sip from my glass, never taking my eyes off his.

              He’s the first to look away.  “She’s at home tonight.  She works in the city sometimes too.”

              “Does she know you’re with me?”

              “No,” he replies.  I wait for him to say more, but he merely swirls his whisky around in the glass, keeping his gaze trained on me. “There’s something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time.  I’m sorry, Jess.  I’m sorry for what happened the night of our graduation. I’m sorry it drove you out of town.  I’m sorry I didn’t come after you sooner, and that I waited so many years to tell you I’m horribly sorry I am.  I’m even sorry for what happened with Raine.”

              I shrug again. “Like I said at your party, it’s water under the bridge. After I left, I never thought about it again.”

              “I don’t believe you.”

              “I don’t care if you believe me or not,” I say.  “I don’t care about what you think about me at all.”

              “I think you do.”

              “You’ve always been a smug bastard, Blaze.”

              “And you’ve always been a stubborn brat.”

              His tone is teasing, but something about the word ‘brat’ sets me off, and fury simmers in my gut.  I stand up to leave.  “If that’s why you called me here, then really, it’s fine. I appreciate your apology—”

              “Please sit back down, Jess.“

              I meet his gaze, and after a brief hesitation, I sit back down.  Not because he asked me to, but because I’m not ready to leave.

              I’m not ready to walk out on him for what could be the last time, no matter what my pride and good sense are telling me.

              “After you left, I fucked up bad,” he says.  “I fell into drinking so hard that I made our parents look like lightweights.  Yet somehow I still managed to take enough business classes to get by and eventually make a name for myself in finance.  It doesn’t hurt that most finance guys—and women—drink like fish.”

              “Is that how you met your fiancé then, in the business world?”

              “Yes.  Two years ago. The first year was hell on her, and then she finally convinced me that I had a drinking problem and needed to quit.  I’ve been sober for the past year.”

              I eye his tumbler. “You’re not doing the best job there, Blaze. Isn’t drinking whisky against the rules?”

              “Funny thing is…” He holds up his glass in a toast and drinks the contents down in a single gulp.  “I got tired of the ribbings from my colleagues when we’d all go out for drinks, so I made a habit of drinking coke and gingerale.  It’s a weird combination, I know. But it suits me.  And it looks like whisky, so I don’t have to deal with the lame jokes.”

              “Well I’m happy that you got your life together,” I say. “If that’s why you asked me to come here, then good for you.  And I appreciate your apology.  But for what it’s worth, I don’t have the best memories when it comes to you.  I lift the sleeve of my dress to show off a few of the scars that extend from my shoulder to my wrist.  “I got these the last night we were together, and they still haven’t healed.  I don’t think they’ll ever heal.  So forgive me if I don’t jump for joy that you cleaned up your act and have the perfect life.  Because I’m still recovering—some scars never heal, they just fade.  And the deeper they are, the longer it takes.”  

              He reaches over with pain in his eyes, taking my arm in his hand and examining it.  I try to pull away but he holds it firmly.

              In a way, it feels good for him to see what happened because of him. For whatever reason, it makes me feel vindicated.

              “I’m sorry you were hurt because of me,” he says softly, and there’s something unexpected in his tone.  Something sweet and intimate that I haven’t heard in a long time.   “I’m so damn sorry.”  And then he leans over and kisses me.

              The moment his lips meet mine, it’s like nothing has changed. I’m young and vibrant and filled with hope.

I’m in love for the first time.               

I’m willing to hope anything, believe anything.

              When he moves to take a step back, I cling tighter.  Kiss harder. Refuse to let him go. 

              But he doesn’t pull away.  He holds me possessively, and devours my mouth with his.

Chapter 7

Ten year earlier…

              I was in the kitchen eating breakfast with Mirabeth when she casually announced, “Mr. Everly asked you to meet him in his office later, after you get home from school.”

              I nearly choked on my toast.

              “Are you okay dear?” she patted me on the back, then stood up and ran a glass of water from the sink.

              “Thanks,” I said, my voice hoarse.  She handed me the glass and I took a sip.             

             
Raine.
  The last time I saw him was the night I was feeling bold and gave him that little striptease by the pool. 

              Normally I barely saw the man. He was always away on one business trip or another, and when he was actually home, he avoided us entirely.

              Since we all shared the same house, I figured I’d see him again eventually.  Yet being summoned to his office felt ominous somehow.  Add that to the fact that Mirabeth rarely talked about him—he was like a ghost in the house—and the whole thing took me off guard.

              “Did he tell you what he wants to talk about?” I asked.

              She shook her head.  “Mr. Everly doesn’t tell me much.  I’ve worked for the family for twenty years—and I’ve known him since he was a practically child, or at least a teenager—and yet I still know very little about him.”

              “When did he come to live here?” I asked.

              “Let’s see.  He’s twenty five now. He came to live here when he was fourteen.  So he’s been here eleven years then.  Not long at all considering the role he’s taken on.  I mean, when he first came here he was a troubled foster kid, and now he’s taken over the family empire.”

              “How was he…troubled?”

              “Maybe I misspoke.  Damaged is a better word.  I don’t know the details, but I do know that before he arrived here, he was abused.  Severely abused, as I understand.  When he first arrived at the house, he was painfully shy.  Barely spoke to anyone.  It was clear that he was deeply unsure of himself and didn’t know who to trust.

              He warmed up a little over the years, but not much.  As I’m sure you’ve noticed, he lacks the ability to connect.  Which is a shame.  He’s such a handsome man, and so successful.  And he’s always been kind to the staff.  But he’s odd.”  She sipped her coffee and seemed to consider him.  “He does an excellent job running the Everly empire, from what I’ve been told.  He’s a smart business man, and very devoted to the company.  I believe he was grateful for all that the Everly's did for him, taking him in and such. He knew that their one wish for him to carry on the family business, and he was eager to please them, to show his gratitude for all he’d been given, so he threw himself into his career from day one.

              “I do hope that he learns to slow down and make himself happy one day,” Mirabeth continued.  “I’ve never seen anyone work so hard.  He can’t be happy living like that.”  She shook her head and picked up my plate, taking it to the sink with her own.

              This had become our daily ritual, eating breakfast together every morning. It was one of the brightest parts of my day.

              The housekeeper had never had children of her own, but she was happily married with a large circle of friends, and still very active.  Every morning she would entertain me with gossip about her friends or her friends’ children.  It was never mean-spirited, but often scandalous and always entertaining.

              She would ask me about school, my friends, and sometimes she’d even venture to ask about my parents.  I still didn’t like talking about them—the wound was still too fresh.  But it was nice to know that Mirabeth was there if I ever felt like opening up. 

I enjoyed our daily chit-chat about school, finding it unexpectedly comforting.  I suppose it was because I felt like most girls got to talk to their mothers the same way. Not that I ever had the kind of mother who made breakfast and asked about school, which made me appreciate Mirabeth even more. 

              As she washed the dishes, I wondered what Raine could possibly want with me. 

              And for reasons I couldn’t understand, I was vaguely excited to find out. 

 

 

              After school I took the elevator to Raine’s office and as usual, the door was closed.  I knocked and from the other side, he called for me to come in.

              When I opened the door I found him standing in front of the large bay window that overlooked the ocean, his back to me.  He didn’t turn around when I walked in.

              “You asked me to come see you?” I said, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of his massive cherry wood desk.

              He finally turned and once again I was struck by how handsome he was.  There was something boyishly attractive about the angles of his face, but there was an intensity in his dark stare that spoke of power and control.

              “As you know, your parents’ wills were not very clear or up to date. And since you’re guardianship was forfeited to me, I was entrusted with seeing that their property is liquidated and put into a trust until you come of age. I’m also responsible for managing that trust and paying it out as I see fit. But you know that already.”

              I nodded once and waited for him to continue.

              “As the one entrusted with your future well-being, I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask you what your future plans are.  You’re well into your senior year of high school.  I imagine you’ve given some thought to your plans after graduation?”

              “Well, I come into my half of the inheritance when I turn eighteen and complete high school, and then the other half when I’m twenty-five, so I’ll be provided for.”

              “Not forever, if you aren’t careful.  Your full portion of the inheritance totals a little over half a million dollars.  It’s a hefty sum for someone your age, but it won’t last your entire life.  In fact, there are people who have burned through a lot more than that in a matter of a few years.  As your guardian, I think it’s important for you to attend college, and then once you do, I can offer you a position working at Rupert Everly and Son. 

              “My father—adoptive father, Rupert Everly—groomed me to take over the company.  It’s his legacy, and if he knew there were more family members—even if they’re not direct blood relations—he’d want them to part of that legacy.  Do you understand what I’m saying, Jess?”

              “Yes, and I appreciate the opportunity, but I’m not sure what I want to do with my future yet.  And I’m definitely not sure I want to go to college right away.  I think I want to travel for a while and see more of the world.”

              “I suppose I would be on board with that, provided that you get serious about your future after your time abroad.”

              “I’m really not concerned about college right now. I’ve been through a lot this past year, and I just need some time and space to figure out what makes me happy.  To figure out who I am.”

              “Here’s what I think we should do.”  He sat on his desk in front of me, his hands folded neatly on his knee.  “As the executor of your trust, instead of paying out the originally agreed upon sum following your high school graduation, I’ll give you a portion of your inheritance to finance your travels for a year, maybe two.  But I’ll hold on to the rest until after you complete your college education.  You’ll then be welcome to join Rupert Everly and Son, at which time you’ll be paid out the rest of your inheritance.”

              “You can’t just change the terms and take the money away from me like that.  I can do whatever I want with my inheritance—“

              “Actually you can’t.  As the executor of the trust, I can arrange the conditions until your twenty-fifth birthday.  I’m happy to give you the number of your parents’ lawyer if you’d like to speak with her.”

              “That won’t be necessary,” I said icily, knowing it wouldn’t do any good.  “What about Blaze?  Are you forcing him to go to college to get his inheritance too, or just me because I don’t have a penis?”

              Though I wasn’t being entirely serious, I saw something flash behind his eyes just then.  And I knew exactly what it was.  Weakness.

              “You know very well that I’m all woman,” I continued.  “Is that what this is about?  Are you trying to get sexual favors out of me?”  I crossed my legs coolly, a tight smile on my lips. 

              Something in his eyes darkened. “That’s entirely inappropriate Ms. Everly. You’ll apologize to me right now.”  His thumb came down and absently caressed his black leather belt. Something about the gesture sent a flutter through my belly.

              I shrugged.  “Why should I apologize?  I’m not sorry. I think you’re treating me differently because I don’t have the same equipment as you.” I cast a glace down at the unmistakable bulge in his finely tailored dress pants.

              “That’s it,” he said, standing up.  “I won’t stand for this sort of behavior in my house, is that clear?”

              I smiled impishly, knowing that despite his hard words, there was very little he could actually do.  I didn’t believe he’d actually throw me out of the house.

              “What are you going to do about it?” I asked

              With that, he yanked me out of my chair by the arm. “Hands on the desk,” he ordered. “Now.”

              Startled by his show of force and the steel in his voice, I complied.  Then I felt cool air touch my thighs as he yanked my skirt and panties down to my knees and smacked me hard on the ass.

              Again.

              And again.

              “Am I clear, Jessica?” he whispered coolly in my ear, his hand resting possessively on the globe of my ass, which stung from his show of force.

              All I could do was nod. I’d like to say it was because I was angry or upset, but I wasn’t.  My thighs were drenched in my own wetness and my sex was throbbing.  I was so turned on, I wasn’t sure I could breathe.

              “You may pull up your panties now.”

              I did as I was told, then he put his hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “And as much as I enjoyed your little show in the pool the other day, I advise you not to do it again.  I’m a man after all, and next time, I might not be able to stop myself from taking you.  Do you understand?”

              I looked into his eyes, which were hard as steel and burning with heat.  I nodded again, my mind reeling

              “You may go,” he said coolly, then sat back at his desk chair and began looking over his papers again.  I scurried out of his office, my ass burning and my sex aching with need.

BOOK: Stepbrother's Kiss
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