Sweet Billionaire Stepbrother ~ Part 1 (2 page)

BOOK: Sweet Billionaire Stepbrother ~ Part 1
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Slowly I sucked in a breath, careful not to make a sound in the stillness of the night.

Breathe, Grayson, breathe
.

Layla stretched her arms in front of her and dived into the water with a grace she didn’t normally display. Seconds later her head bobbed up from under the water and she swam several lengths of the pool, her arms and legs propelling her through the water, her long hair surrounding her face as it flowed around her. The blue glow reflecting from the pool accentuated her curves and her nakedness as she moved through the water.

I’d never seen anything more sensuous. If mermaids existed, Layla must’ve been one in a past life.  She swam a few more lengths, able to keep her breath under water for several minutes at a time. I found myself holding mine every time she went under, my lungs burning until she finally surfaced.

Pushing my dick down with my palm, willing it to settle down, I fought my inner desire. It was wrong to be aroused like this, yet my cock had a mind of its own.

It was natural for a man to be stimulated by the sight of a beautiful naked body. Men had been wired like that for centuries. It was how our species survived. As a medical student about to qualify, I knew that on an intellectual level.

Yet it wasn’t the primal instinct of my body I was worrying about. It was the way my heart twisted when I looked at her beautiful face, turned up to the moonlight when she came up for air, that disturbed me most.

That and the urge I had to touch her. Hold her in my arms. Kiss her lips.

Make her mine.

Why?

I had no fucking idea.

3: Layla

I
’d always been lucky.

Unlike a few of my school friends who had stepfamilies they didn’t get along with, I was one of the fortunate ones. Not only did I adore my stepdad, Milton Forbes, I actually liked and got along with
both
of my stepsiblings.

From my desk, I peered over the computer screen to where my stepsister had sprawled herself out on my double bed. After breakfast and still in her pajamas, she’d come to my room to hang out. I just smiled and indulged her, happy to have her companionship. As long as she didn’t divert my attention too often, I’d never shut her out.

Taylor was a gorgeous sixteen year old going on twenty-one. She was beautiful with a heart shaped face and golden blonde hair. Her long limbs moved gracefully as her feet danced in the air to the rhythm of the music she was listening to on her iPod. Lying on her stomach and flipping through a magazine, she was in her own little bubble. She hummed a tune softly, completely absorbed by what she was doing.

As if she felt my gaze on her, Taylor looked up from her magazine with a concerned expression on her face.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. How is that little girl you were telling me about? Is she any better yet?”

Taylor could come up with the strangest things at the most random times, but I liked that she’d taken an interest in my young patient. “Carmen? She’s doing really well actually. She’s able to walk a short distance by herself.”

“You really are amazing, you know? Helping people like Carmen become mobile again after an accident, it must be so amazing and overwhelming.”

My smile beamed back at her. “It is. Nothing beats the look of pride and joy on a person’s face when they achieve something the rest of us take for granted every day.”

“I know. You must feel so proud too, seeing her achieve that. ‘Specially after the doctors said she may never walk again.”

My eyes misted up. It had been a long and hard struggle to get Carmen to this point. “Well, if there is one lesson I’ve learned, it’s to never give up. Persistence pays. And Carmen’s parents were incredibly supportive too. That’s crucial in a case like this. Miracles happen if we believe in them, you know.”

“You’re such a softie, Layla. The world is so much better for having you in it.”

The sincerity in her voice and her beautiful words choked me up even more. “I’m just doing my job, baby girl. Helping other people is what I do best. It makes me happy.”

“When I grow up I want to be just like you!” The passion in her voice surprised me. I felt humbled yet slightly embarrassed that she thought so highly of me.

“Haha,” I laughed. “You’re going to be spectacular in your own right. Just find something you love and it won’t feel like work at all. But talking of work, I’ve got to get back to this assignment, missy, it’s not going to finish itself.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry for distracting you.”

“No worries. It’s nice of you to care enough about Carmen’s progress to ask after her. But the due date on this is looming and I still need to write a crapload of pages. So let me get back to work okay?”

She nodded and went back to her reading.

This was my last assignment before graduation and I wanted to give it my best shot. Once it was done, I could move to the next stage of my life. I couldn’t wait to finish university and start my career. 

Another half hour passed before Taylor looked up from the magazine again. This time she removed the earphones from her head. It was a wonder her eardrums hadn’t burst because I could hear the music pound through that small device all the way to where I sat at my desk across the room.

Her eyes shone as she held up the magazine. “Wow, look at these awesome hairstyles. Do you think Mum would let me color my hair blue or purple and cut it into one of these rad styles?”

Just a little annoyed by the interruption of my thoughts, I swiveled my chair to face her. “Um, what’s that, love?” I asked absentmindedly. My brain was still working on the next paragraph of the conclusion of my paper.

She pointed to a picture of what I could only describe as a God-awful-scary-as-hell goth looking girl with black, purple and blue hair that stood up out from her head as if she’d just been electrocuted. Maybe she had, because her eyes were wide and she was sticking her tongue out; it was pierced with angry looking spikes. Wrinkling my nose, I shuddered and looked back at my gorgeous stepsister. I'd kill to have hair like hers and she wanted to change it to
that
?
Seriously?

I laughed. “You’re kidding right?”

She shook her head, her bottom lip pouting. “I’m serious. One of the girls at school is totally rocking this look. The boys are all over her.”

Yeah, probably because she’s giving them more than a weird hairdo.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with the hairstyle . . . but I think you’re a bit young for that. Mum would freak out if she even thought you’d wanna do that to your hair.”

“That’s because Mum was Miss Teen Australia and she wants me to follow in her footsteps. I may look similar to what she did at my age, but beauty pageants and all that crap is the furthest thing from what I like.” she wailed. “You gotta help me. I don’t wanna be dragged into that shit.”

I clucked my tongue. “Language, young lady.” I couldn’t help admiring her sassiness though. Did all beautiful people have natural charm and charisma exude from them? It was as if the world sat up and took notice when my mother or any one of my stepfamily walked into a room. I found it amusing that most people thought
Taylor
was Mum’s daughter and
I
was the stepsister.

Maybe that was why I fitted in so well with my stepfamily—they were all stunning, like my mother, and I wasn’t any competition for them. I was happy for Taylor to take the limelight and she reveled in it.

As for me, I was a geeky nerd. Plain Jane and happy to be so. The only thing I’d strived for when I was Taylor’s age was the highest grades in school so I could win a scholarship. I’d inherited my Dad’s average Joe looks and was the simple girl-next-door type with a nondescript face. I didn’t mind though—it meant I blended in just perfectly without most people noticing me. Just the way I liked it.

“Neither shit nor crap are swear words, they’re bodily functions and therefore perfectly fine words.”

I wasn’t even getting into that discussion with her. She definitely didn’t want the nice-girls-don’t-talk-like-that speech. Besides, I didn’t mind using expletive language myself sometimes. I didn’t really trust people who were too perfect, and especially people who never swore. It was like they had a bunch of carrots stuck up their ass.

She gave me that puppy dog face that melted my heart. I really did adore her and was ecstatic when my mother married her father so that I could have a real family.

“Honey, why would you want to change your hair? It's so damn pretty.” I tilted my head to the side as I studied her. ”Be grateful for what you have instead of wanting to turn yourself into a freak show.”

“Ha-ha, you’re always so wise. I'm so lucky I got you as my older sis.” Her eyes darkened as she shuddered. “One of the women Daddy dated before he met Mum had the most nasty daughter I’d ever met.”

“Nastiest,” I corrected her automatically.

“Whatever,” she said, laughing. She looked up at me and squinted her eyes. “Hang on a minute . . . if I can't change my look and you love my hair—”

“Whoa, stop right there, missy. I’m very happy with the way I look. Physiotherapists don’t have time to be all pretty and precious. My hair tied into a ponytail is practical and works just fine for me.”

“Awww, don’t say that.” Her attention back to the magazine, she flicked a few pages back. “In fact when I saw this picture of Emma Stone earlier I thought how much she reminded me of you. Now if you colored your hair just a little bit . . . I not talking anything drastic, just to brighten up the tone, you’d look stunning.”

“Hmmm . . . The only thing Emma and I had in common were freckles and since hers are now invisible, we have nothing in common.” I took a deep breath. “And I thought you said you weren’t into beauty stuff like Mum? I think you have a natural eye for that shit, but no, I’m not coloring my hair. Why would I anyway? I don’t want anyone looking at me.”

“You said
shit!
” she said raising an eyebrow at me, trying to look stern and failing.

“Yeah, but I’m twenty-one. I'm an adult, so I can say whatever I like.”

“Your birthday was like three weeks ago, and you don’t look any different than before, so how is that fair?”

“I don’t make the rules. But anyway, you get a lot more out of life with honey than with vinegar, so try to stay sweet instead of becoming a foul mouthed bitch like some of the tarts in class.”

A deep baritone voice from the doorway interrupted us and made my heart smile just from hearing it. “Who’s a foul mouthed bitch?”

I turned to face my stepbrother.
God, he sure got hit by the pretty stick
. If his little sister grew up to be anything as gorgeous as him, our parents were going to have to buy a few riffle guns to keep the boys away.

“Hey, what are you doing here? You’re a day early.” Taylor said, pulling up her nose as she appraised him.

Grayson was the sweetest man I knew, with sharp intelligent eyes that missed nothing. He was kind and unassuming despite practically being ‘Australian royalty’. As heirs to an Australian mining magnate’s fortune, the Forbes siblings were super rich and each used to getting their own way.

I smiled at Grayson and said, “What Taylor means is,
hey big brother
.
How was your trip home? Can I get you a nice drink while you freshen up?

“No, I don’t,” Taylor shrieked from the bed. “He can get his own.”

I rolled my eyes. She adored her older brother and he loved her too, but I usually had to play the role of peacekeeper.

My stepbrother was holding a bag in one hand and had a backpack slung over his shoulder, his dark hair hanging over one eye. He looked tired and yet he still had a smile on his face. Undeterred by his sister’s words, he placed the bags at the door and walked into my bedroom.

“Hey. How are my two favorite girls in the whole wide world?” His grin widened as he stretched both arms out wide.

I stood from my chair to give Grayson a welcoming hug. I loved when he came home for uni breaks. When he was a continent away and we could only chat on occasion, I missed him. 

With a few long strides, Grayson stood in front of me, grinning down with a sparkle in his eyes. “God, I missed you guys,” he said, his gaze trained on me. A delicious warmth spread over my body from my belly as I smiled back.

“You’re a day early. Weren’t you supposed to only arrive tomorrow?” I asked, straightening my hair. God, I looked a mess in track pants and an old t-shirt of his I’d stolen off the washing line.

“Yeah, I couldn’t wait a day longer to come home. I skipped the frat party and flew home instead.” His arm snaked around my waist to pull me closer. “I arrived last night, but I slept at a friend’s place. My flight was delayed so we landed very late. Didn’t want to wake the house.” Grayson grinned down at me. “Nice t-shirt by the way. Am I ever getting it back?”

Busted.

Heat rose to my cheeks and I hid it by slipping my arms around his torso and burying my face in his chest. Inhaling deeply, his manly scent filled my nose. I loved how he smelled, it made me all warm and fuzzy and evoked feelings of security and safety.

“Hey you two, if I didn’t know better I’d say get a room or something.” Taylor rolled off the bed and joined in on the hug just as I was about to pull away. “You know I hate you coming home because you steal Layla away all the time.”

I laughed. At least both my stepsiblings liked my company. I didn’t really have that many friends and I’d only had a few crushes and one boyfriend to date.

Taylor’s eyes lit up as she addressed her brother. “Hey, help me out here. I was just trying to convince Layla to change her hair style and color since she won’t let me even ask Mum for the style I want.”

He gave her a strange look. “Why would Layla want to change her hair? It's perfect as it is. As for you, just live with what you were given. You probably want to go all red or something silly.”

Taylor and I exchanged glances before she burst out laughing. “I think we’ll spare you the details ‘cause I don’t think you’d approve. You'd probably be worse than Mum.”

Typical male, Grayson had already lost interest in the conversation about hair. I followed his gaze to the poster behind my headboard. He had a perplexed frown between his brows as he studied the picture.

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