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Authors: Eden Connor

Tags: #stepbrother romance, #m/f/m, #m/m, #outdoor sex, #f/f, #menage, #taboo, #gang bang

Turn & Burn (2 page)

BOOK: Turn & Burn
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Harry relaxed into the ugly chair and drained his glass. “I should’ve known better than to pick him up, much less fall for him. He’s just bi-curious. One of those straight guys who’s figured out a man sucks dick better than a woman, but he’s not going to give up pussy for me.” He leaned over and extended his empty glass. “I bet he’s got guys in line over at the Cattleman’s Club right now, begging to suck that big dick.” He rolled his eyes toward me. “With that cock, he’s going to be a rock star in the gay community. Goddammit.”

I poured two fingers’ worth into my glass, then took another slug from the bottle. “I never understood that. I mean, I’m always
grateful
when they’re not carrying a baseball bat in their pants.” I let the burn settle into my belly. “If I’m gonna suck a dick, I mean.” My grimace wasn’t entirely from the tequila. “Which is never.”

“See, you’re the kind of woman who makes guys like Phillip find guys like me.” Harry waved a middle finger. “You’re hot and fun and smart, but I bet your oral skills are pathetic.”

I drained the glass with a shudder. “Listen, I do anal. When guys hear that, they start thinking about how big their cock’s gonna look going into my teeny-weenie derriere and they forget all about wanting to cram it down my throat.”

Harry spluttered. “You should never drink tequila. And I do both. Which explains why I date more often than you.”

“I’m dating someone, for your information.”

He rolled his eyes. “He’s not a boyfriend. He’s a soft place to land. I think Robert Kossel’s a condescending ass and you secretly think he’s boring.”

“Opinions are like assholes. We all have one. Why can’t you and Phillip just find a woman you both sleep with? Problem solved.”

Harry jabbed his finger at me. “See? You’re a wild child. You need a man who can handle that. And I don’t do va-jay-jay.”


Was
a wild child. Not anymore. Why can’t you just enjoy watching Phillip do the va-jay-jay, then?”

“That would either kill me or make me throw up. Let’s say you do marry this jerk, Shelby, or someone like him. Are you going to skulk around for the rest of your life, wondering when you two will be at some fancy party where some guy keeps staring? And you’ll be thinking, ‘Did he pay to have sex with me?’ I mean, Robert’s family lives less than an hour from your stepfather’s house. It could happen.”

The burn in my belly turned to ice. Harry had no idea just how much time I spent worrying about that very thing.

He toed off his Docksides. “I still think it’s weird. I mean, since when do middle-class white boys sell pussy?”

Since when are my stepbrothers middle-class?
“When they have jobs paying ten bucks an hour, but put over a hundred grand into their hot rod.”

Before I could think of a way to get the conversation back on Phillip, he returned to the party like a dog with a new favorite bone.

“Listen, Shelby, your stepfather stops by to see you. He offers you money. I know you have his credit card in your purse, just like all the other little rich girls at your school. And he’s run more interference for you with your mother than a NFL linebacker. You owe it to him to do this.”

Aw, dammit.
The downside of adopting a brother I could tell everything to, was that he knew just where to hit.

I scowled over the rim of my glass. “Does it matter one bit that Dale outright dared Mr. Ridenhour to make a big deal out of his anniversary?” I was flattered that Dale’s boss said I was the only person my stepfather wouldn’t cuss out for making the speech at this shindig. I even had the perfect speech already written. I’d used the story Ernie Tipton had told me about Dale for my creative writing course and gotten a B+. From a professor who took giving A’s like a challenge to his manhood. I could simply tell that story.

Hell, no! Don’t go. Harry just wants to hang on to that idiotic advertising piece for Phillip. Not my problem.

Harry leaned over and extended his glass. “We have a month to figure out how you can put the fear of God in your stepbrothers. Don’t you want to see them squirm?”

I actually wanted to see them beheaded, castrated, and stoned to death on the public square, but tequila always made me feel ten feet tall and bulletproof.

If Harry’s exploiting our friendship, he must truly love Phillip.

Thanks to Colt and Caine, my specialty was a little something I called ‘not love’. Trust was just too hard to come by. I always expected to get burned, so my love life was a series of drag races—I started out wide open and called it quits after the first quarter mile.

Harry sat up so fast, his drink spilled, but he didn’t seem to notice the spreading stain on his shirt. “I’ll go, too. I’ll be your straight beloved.”

I burst out laughing. “Uh, no. I told Mom you were gay so she’d shut the fuck up about me staying here.”

“Well, if it were me, I strut my ass into that party and do to them exactly what they did to you. Act like nothing’s wrong and get close enough to figure out exactly where to stick the knife in.” He clenched his fist and twisted his wrist.

With liquid courage speeding through my bloodstream, it sounded so easy. Just suck up and look for the one thing I could do that would hurt them the most.

“Okay, I’ll go.” I extended my glass. “Revenge is a redheaded bitch.”

Harry stretched to clink his glass against mine “See? That’s the attitude, right there. Fuck ‘em up, Shelby. Best Christmas gift you’ll ever give yourself. Then you can graduate in May and just walk away.”

“You’re going, too. I need you to drive the Tiptons to the party. If I can talk them into going, that is. For some reason, Ernie and Dale haven’t seen each other in years.”

Chapter Two

F
our weeks later, I opened my eyes and tried to identify the streaks of gold and blobs of blue on the edge of my pillow. I blinked. The fuzzy image resolved into intent eyes, covered by a shock of blond hair.

“Good morning.” Sculpted lips curved into a smile.

My heart lurched.
Why am I with Colt?

Panic brought me fully awake. I struggled with the sheet, fighting to get free and run, but something pinned me. I blinked again. The cheekbones were less perfect than Colt’s. The blue irises fixed on my face were less vivid. My heart slowed from a gallop to a trot.

Robert.
I lowered my eyes to the arm draped across my waist.

Okay, that’s why I can’t move.
His large body had mine pressed against the wall. Sweat glued us together. I kicked, needing to get a foot free so I could breathe.

Chipper voices came from somewhere.
Fucking college dorms. Who’s in the room?
I managed to rise onto my elbow. A chubby bleached blonde smiled from the widescreen television, perched on a scarred desk on the far side of the small dorm room. At her side, a man in a suit flashed teeth that were a shade too perfect.
The morning news anchors
. I collapsed onto the pillow.
Why can’t he sleep without the television on?
Just one of many things Robert did that annoyed me.

“Good morning,” he rumbled.

Robert Kossel attended Wofford College, a private, co-ed institution about a mile or so from my school. Why had I stayed over? I couldn’t recall making that decision, so...
alcohol.
My fuzzy tongue supported the deduction. He swept a hand along my hip, tugging me against him.

“Goddamn, I love opening my eyes and seeing you. You’re all warm and your hair’s messy. Fucking gorgeous.”

I didn’t feel gorgeous. I felt like I might heave. “Have I missed class?” I groaned.

“For fuck’s sake, it’s Christmas break. You got drunk last night.” Disapproval rang in his tone.

That explains why we didn’t argue.

“Oh. Yeah.” Recalling taking my last exam a week ago, I relaxed against the pillow. Because I never went home for any holiday, Robert had hung around rather than cut out for Rock Hill after his last exam, so we could spend time together. But then I’d agreed to pick up a few shifts for Harry at the downtown Radisson bar where we both worked, and all Robert and I had done so far was fight.

Moving suddenly, he rolled me to my back and slid his knee between my thighs. The tender sensation in my sex when he spread my legs told me if my hazy recollection of another argument last night was correct, we must’ve gotten our make-up sex out of the way already. He rolled on top of me, sliding his erection along my bare belly. Propping his elbows alongside my ribs, he cupped my breasts and lowered his head.

I closed my eyes, willing to lose myself in the soft stroke of his tongue across my nipple, but the jittery panic refused to subside. He redoubled the motion of his tongue. All I felt was the need to take a deep breath. He licked and suckled each nipple in turn, then lifted his head and leaned close. His thumbs took over on my still-soft peaks. His lips on mine were a familiar sensation, but I turned my head.

“Morning breath. Suck my nipples.”
And make me tell you what I want you to do to me. Say nasty things and force me to repeat them.
Robert loved to fucking talk. He just didn’t talk when he was fucking.

As usual, he returned to the task without a word. The sensation was nice. I closed my eyes again. Maybe he’d get a little freaky, since the dorm was empty.

Think about the hard cock between my legs, not random bullshit.

He shifted his hips and his cock breeched my entrance.

Without warning, the room went black. Male shouts and jeers echoed inside my skull. I’d swear that a breeze raised goose bumps on the tops of my thighs. The sensation of heat seared the backs of my legs, even though I knew I lay on Ralph Lauren sheets. I slapped my palms against his shoulders. “Condom.”

He jerked his head up. “What? Shelby, we quit using condoms before Thanksgiving.”

Awkward.
I realized where I’d gone in my head. It pissed me off because I never knew when those too-vivid memories of wild nights spent drag racing and fucking my stepbrothers would blindside me. Sometimes, it felt as though Colt and Caine shared every bed I ever crawled into. That made no sense, since they’d mostly fucked me on the hood of a car.

And don’t forget, then they took money to let their friends fuck me, too.

I hated those memories, but the recollection did what Robert rarely managed—it got me wet in record time. My nipples hardened, even though he’d gone still while he stared through slitted eyelids.

If I’d ever told Robert about my stepbrothers, he might not be scowling. But I never had. And I never would.
Why the hell am I here?

I unglued my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Sorry. Temporary blackout. Blame it on the booze.”

His chuckle was more a huff, but he returned his lips to my breast. His soft licks felt better now that the peak was rigid and throbbing, but not five seconds later, he shifted his hips. Colt and Caine were still in my head. I needed Robert to man up and do something besides just stick his cock inside me. I wanted him to drive my stepbrothers out of my mind, not benefit from my fucking emotional issues. Unfair, because he had no idea I had the damn problem, but still—this was bullshit. 

Resentment rose, nearly choking me. “Did you give up foreplay for some religious reason I’m not aware of?”

His sigh was too loud and lasted a shade too long, but he wriggled lower. The sheet slid away, exposing my thighs. He made no eye contact, but warm breath wafted over my clit. He jerked his head up immediately.

“I love you, babe, but... damn, Shelby, I went down on you last night and I came inside you twice.”

So? If he’d ever do something that downright dirty, I’d let myself fall in love with him. But he was no different from any other guy I’d slept with since starting college. Too fucking conservative in the sack. The only thing these guys seemed to lose their heads over was college football.

He left his hand on my hip long enough to let me know he was thinking about forcing the issue. Torn between hoping he would and fearing he might, I didn’t move.

He grinned and crawled up my body. Flopping onto his side, he popped me on the hip. “Since the dorm’s almost empty, you can use the showers. I’ll be right here. You can wear my shirt.” He flashed his brows up and down. “I like the way you look in my shirts.”

But you don’t want to join me? Sex in the shower is against your religion, too?

I rose on elbow again and squinted at the time displayed on the cable box. Keyed up as I was, this could only go bad. I shouldn’t have come here last night.

“No time for that. I have a lot to do today.”

“Shelby, you don’t have to be anywhere till six p.m.. Baby, it’s eight o’clock in the morning.”

“Right.” I wanted to argue, but my brain wouldn’t engage.

I rolled to a sitting position. My head swam with the effort. Maybe I should just lie down and give him his missionary quickie.

Or maybe, if I asked, he’d shower with me, then pin me against the tile and fuck my brains out. I bent and snagged his shirt, but stared at the red pinstriped cotton, debating. I couldn’t handle it if he said something like, “Yeah, right. Do you know how many people slip and fall in the shower trying to have sex?”

BOOK: Turn & Burn
5.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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