SNAKE (a Stepbrother Romance) (2 page)

I
decided
to wear a green dress to the New Year’s brunch, one that accentuated my deep chocolaty hair and brown eyes. The weather was supposed to be nice even for this time of year, and I felt like I needed to dress up a bit. The slinky material showed off my curves without looking too much like something inappropriate for a family gathering. It was not only a dress I felt comfortable in, but I also felt like I looked really good in it, which was a plus at the moment considering my mood.

Andrea, my step-mom, and my dad were hosting the brunch at their place, as they did every year. They loved having people over, and what had started as an informal family gathering had turned into a family tradition. It was also ideal for everyone who hadn’t had the chance to see each other over Thanksgiving or Christmas to drop by and catch up.

As I arrived, almost everyone was there already. I spotted my stepbrother, Devan, straight away on the lawn out back, head tilted back towards the constant blazing Californian sun. He was with his wife, Monique, who stood close to him, but as far away from him as possible without it looking weird. However, you couldn’t fool me…
Something wasn’t right between them
.

I hadn’t talked to Devan in quite a while, even though we lived in the same city, barely a five-minute drive apart. But whenever I saw him, my stomach flip-flopped, making me feel nervous, on edge, as if I’d been caught doing something wrong by just being in the same space as him. I tried to shake the feeling away and approached the couple cautiously.

Devan and I hadn’t grown up together, as our parents married when we were both already in our twenties, but I kind of wished that we had. It would’ve been fun to have a decent, protective, good-looking big brother around.

“Hey guys,” I said as I grabbed a mimosa and took a sip, probably bigger than I should have. The bubbles travelled up my nose, and I spluttered a cough.

“Easy there, Tiger,” Devan chortled and instantly rubbed my back, his huge hands on me.

Way to embarrass yourself, Mila.

“Hi,” Monique grunted, not making eye contact. She was too busy glaring off into the distance. Monique was dressed to the nines, as always. She definitely had an eye for fashion, and I could feel the green-eyed monster rise up within me. Monique had everything I longed for – the high-powered career, the figure – and the sweetest guy imaginable. Not to mention she didn’t make a fool of herself in front of everyone.

She also hardly ever wore the same label twice, but something was definitely off today, as she was wearing an outfit I’d seen at least once before over the holidays this year already. She looked drained, and a few wisps of her normally straight black hair were out of place.

“Excuse me,” Monique said and walked away.

“What’s that about?” I asked Devan.

“Nothing.” He shook his head and sighed. He frowned, and I could tell by his hunched shoulders and his stiff posture that he was hurting. “We’re struggling a bit, that’s all. I’m just happy she decided to ride here in the same car with me.”

He took a sip of his mimosa.

“I’m sorry,” I said, looking up at him, and touched the partially revealed tattoo that covered his forearm. I’d always admired the ever growing and striking design that wrapped around his wrists up and towards his muscular shoulders. The tail of a winding snake circled the length of his arm on one side, and a mass of colour that looked like it was painted on coated the other. I’d always meant to ask why he’d chosen a snake; it didn’t seem like him…

Not realising what I was doing, I traced a blackened edge of the snake’s outline around the top of his forearm following the curve of the tail with my fingertip. It should’ve felt like an innocent gesture, and I don’t know if it was from knocking back my drink too quickly, but a tingle travelled up and down my own skin in response. I shuddered and quickly snapped my hand back to my side.

He was drop-dead gorgeous, with short but messy dark hair and a muscular build; he’d done his duty in the Navy but left a few years ago for some reason he wouldn’t talk about. He still worked out almost every day, if his toned arms were anything to go by. I suppose it also helped that he owned a construction firm; lugging heavy materials around would no doubt add to his chiselled, cut physique.

I shuddered again and scolded myself for my wayward thoughts. He was my stepbrother, for Pete’s sake! I shouldn’t be thinking of him like that.

“Cold? Want my jacket?” he asked as he reached for his jacket that was folded over a nearby chair.

“I’m OK,” I replied and blushed, but he was already draping the worn leather across my shoulders like the gentleman he was. The ingrained smell of Devan that permeated the jacket was divine, heady, musky… forbidden.

I swallowed thickly.

Why couldn’t I find someone like Devan? His gentle emerald eyes glinted at me as he smiled. So caring, and full of love, and it made me wonder what he’d done to deserve Monique’s cold shoulder. It must’ve been something awful, right? I mean, I knew that they were having problems, but I didn’t know how bad it was. Monique was baby-crazy; everyone in the family talked about it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, feeling guilty about my own petty problems and wayward thoughts when here were two people with much more on their minds.

“Nah, but thanks,” he said as a tiny, pained smile faded from his lips as quickly as it had come. He shook his head as if to brush the thoughts from his mind. “How are you?”

I shrugged. I didn’t really want to burden him with my issues right now when he clearly had a whole mountain of crap to deal with already.

“Oh, come on, tell me. You have this frown line right here,” he said as his fingertip smoothed out the furrowed lines upon my forehead.

It almost took everything I had not to gasp out loud from the sudden caress. “It’ll take my mind off everything else,” he continued and dropped his arm. For a split second I caught myself wanting him to do it again then pushed the thought away. Pretending it didn’t exist.

Momentarily stunned, I took a breath and regained my composure. “I’ll be good as long as I can find a cheaper place to live. Or a better paying job.” I gave him a weak smile.

“What’s going on? Are you in trouble?” said Andrea, my step-mom, as eased in between us before Devan could reply. I hadn’t seen her right behind me at the table, but she had heard what I said.

“Nothing… just…” this was not what I wanted to have happen. I didn’t want to air all my adult failures today. I just wanted to come here, relax, drink and forget about my shitty life for one day.

“I’m having some trouble making my rent, but I’ve got a plan and everything will be fine,” I lied. I hated lying but I didn’t need anyone worrying about me.

Andrea narrowed her eyes at me. She knew I was full of shit, trying to make it seem like I had everything under control when in reality I was drowning. She looked to Devan and back to me and sighed. “You kids and your grown-up problems. What am I going to do with you?”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Devan said. “We can handle our own affairs. We’ll both get everything figured out. You know I don’t give up that easily.” Devan smiled easily, but I could see the doubt, as clear as day, all over his face.

“Let me talk to your father,” Andrea said to me. “I’ll see what we can do to help out.”

And before I could say anything, she was walking away. Devan laughed at the expression on my face.

“You know they’re helper types,” he said, “but in some ways it’s nice; she’ll have a cheaper apartment lined up for you by the end of the afternoon, probably.”

“Maybe… I just hope it’s not their spare bedroom.” We both laughed. It was nice to have a moment of levity in the situation. “Can you imagine?”

“Yeah, no… no I can’t.”

I smiled at Devan. There was something about talking to him that made everything seem like, at least for a little while, things would be okay.

I held out my newly refilled glass to Devan. “Here’s to solving all of our grown-up problems,” I said.

“Cheers!” he replied and clinked. We drained our glasses and rejoined the main mass of people on the patio. Devan put a protective hand on my lower back as we walked up the steps, and I tried hard not to think about how close his fingers were to the swell of my butt.

God, I needed to get laid again and quick
, I thought.

At the top, Monique was stood talking to Suzanne and Andrea. They all looked over at me at the same time, causing a flush of pink to fill my cheeks.

“The meddling has begun,” I said to Devan, nudging him and nodding my head in the direction of the three women.

T
he brunch
with Monique was worse than I’d imagined. I wanted the day to end, but even then, once we were back home it’d be the same; she would be cold and distant. I felt trapped, unable to find my way out of the darkness. At least here I had others to talk to.

Monique sat next to me, and I could feel the anger coming off of her like an unrelenting heat wave. I watched the rest of the family around the table for reactions, but either they didn’t notice that things were more strained between us, or they were so used to it that it didn’t register.

“Can you pass the salt?” I asked Monique who sat on my right side. She kept her head down and focused on cutting her pork tenderloin into minuscule pieces, the edge of the knife scraping along the surface the plate. She wasn’t even eating any of it. “Monique?” I asked again, my patience wearing thin. The muscles in my face tensed up; she had to stop this shit. I was hurting, too.

A gentle tap on my left arm brought me to my senses. “Here,” Mila said, holding out a saltshaker, her warm chocolate eyes wide with sympathy.

I felt so alone with my thoughts, with the pressure to make Monique happy, but at least my baby stepsister, Mila, was there to take my mind off everything else. Unlike Monique, she always had a smile for me. Mila was able to lift my mood no matter what. It was like her super power or something, and I was grateful to have that right now.

I turned my body away from Monique -
two can play at that game
, I thought; determined not to let her spoil the rest of my night.

Distracted, my eyes wandered up Mila’s milky, almost translucent, outstretched arm and skirted their way to her low-cut, curvy cleavage. Sometimes I thought it was both a curse and a blessing being so tall, having the ability to see down women’s tops.

Mila waggled her arm again, the saltshaker clasped in her hand, causing her breasts to jiggle and my cock to twitch as she tried to get my attention. “Didn’t you want this?” she said and dangled the saltshaker right in front of my eyes so there was no way I could miss it.

“Ah, yes. Thanks,” I managed to say and took it from her. It was my turn to stare at my plate.

Damn!
How I had not noticed her perfectly round tits before now?

Because she’s your sister, you idiot! And you’re married!

Not by blood
, I countered then almost groaned aloud at the realization at the inappropriate conversation I was having inside my head about my own stepsister.

But I did have to wonder, with a body like that, her curves filling that clingy dress why she never brought a date to these family get-togethers. Someone had to have been worshiping that body, right? And if they weren’t, then…
damn.
My thoughts strayed and I wondered if she
knew her nipples were poking through the fabric, begging to be touched?

The swell in my pants grew the more I thought about what lay underneath the green material. I swallowed the thickness in my throat.

“Devan? Are you OK?” Mila whispered as she leaned over. Her thigh brushed against mine as moved closer.

Don’t look down.

DO NOT LOOK!
I screamed in my mind and forced myself to make eye contact instead of glancing back down to her mammoth cleavage.

As my gaze landed upon hers she smiled, and my resolve wavered a fraction. My focus dipped to her plump smiling lips. They were moving again, sweet, pink and glistening, but I couldn’t hear her over the roar of blood rushing around my body.

I wet my lips.

What the fuck was happening to me? I knew it’d been a while since Monique and I had… but this was ridiculous.

I wanted to leave the table but knew all too well the bulge in my pants would not be an appropriate thing for the whole family to see.

“I’m fine.” I coughed and tried to unsee what I’d just imagined in my sex-deprived brain: Mila bent over the table, her hands outstretched, causing plates and glasses clattering onto the floor, as the hem of her dress was lifted over her bottom to reveal the slick ripeness between her legs.

“You don’t look fine,” Mila said and shrugged.

Her thigh was no longer nestled up against mine, and I felt a sudden loss at its departure… it had felt nice, comforting. It’d been so long since Monique had touched me that it was no wonder I was thinking all these dirty thoughts.

That was it, I told myself, I wasn’t a sick individual ogling my stepsister’s tits, or imagining her with her legs spread wide because I wanted her.

No, I was just a hot-blooded married man, who was having a dry spell at the moment. And when you think of it, it was pretty hilarious. We wanted a baby, and yet Monique never wanted any kind of intimacy. It was always on her terms, a quick boring fuck, regimented like clockwork. It was like I was back in the Navy, scheduled to perform a certain task as soon as my commanding officer told me to.

Thank god she wasn’t ovulating this week, I thought bitterly. I don’t think I could’ve handled another round of being used like a sperm bank. Maybe I was being unfair, marriages have their tough times, and maybe this was ours… but I had feelings too, and it felt like we’d been fighting since they day I slipped that ring onto Monique’s finger; I was exhausted.

I
looked
up from my plate and noticed people were starting to leave the table. Thankfully my hard-on had died a quiet death, and I stood to follow, only to have it return again. Mila was ahead of me by a fraction, and I watched the hypnotising wiggle of her ass. She swished her hips back and forth as she made her way out onto the terrace.

The party was always billed as a brunch, but year after year, we went well into the evening, hanging out, drinking, eating. The remains of brunch turned into dinner, and the mimosas turned into beers and cocktails. At about seven o’clock, Edwin, my step-dad, started a bonfire, and we moved chairs to sit around it. It was the perfect night for a bonfire, and we all settled in. Eddie brought the cooler of beer out to be closer, and Mom refilled cocktails.

“I’ve an idea, well Suzanne and I.” My mom came up with a gin and tonic and sat in the empty chair beside me. Monique had vacated that seat moments ago to go use the restroom, but I was more than happy to have my mom occupy it instead. “Mila, honey, come here for a minute.”

I swallowed as Mila tottered over and stood by us, her curves illuminated from behind by the firelight. Damn, the dress she wore was gorgeous on her. I thought I’d told her that earlier in the day, but maybe not.

“That dress is really pretty on you, Mila,” I said blurting it out. Maybe I’d had too many beers for one day.

“Thanks,” she said and stuck her tongue out playfully. Maybe she thought I didn’t mean it? Mila did a little twirl, the hem of the dress fluttering up and away from her bare thighs before she sat down in the chair in front of us.

“I assume Mila has told you about her living situation?” My mom broke in, looking at me. I nodded and glanced at Mila. “Well, you still have that studio space above your garage, don’t you?”

Of course!
I thought. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Like any good big brother I was worried about her but had completely gotten side-tracked… She was going to get kicked out of her apartment, and I could tell the strain was wearing on her. This was the perfect solution, and yet sirens of alarm went off in my head.
This is not a good idea.

“Yeah,” I said, cautiously, “but it’s trashed right now.”

“But it could be fixed up?” My mom quickly added.

“I suppose,” I mumbled.

“Well, don’t sound too enthusiastic, Dev,” Mila said, pouting, her arms crossed in front of her, causing her tits to bulge and round out even more.

“It’s not that,” I replied and searched my brain, trying to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t make me look like an absolute shit. “There’s no bathroom, or kitchen!” I said eagerly, believing I’d found a flawless excuse.

“She could just use the bathroom in the house. It wouldn’t be like she’d have to trek a mile to take a shower.” My mom frowned at me, and I knew she was disappointed. This had been her master plan, and I was being difficult. “Anyway, it’s not like we don’t know a builder who could fit a new bathroom above the garage, now is it?”

Eugh, she had me on that one, I thought. I’d always wanted to renovate the garage into a small studio apartment, perhaps even into a home office, and my mom knew this. And fitting the new pipes and a new bathroom suite wouldn’t take long. My crew could do it in a flash.

“And you could rent it to Mila at a lower, more reasonable rate than what she’s paying now,” my mother continued, not letting the topic die.

“Fine,” I said and held my hands up in defeat. Mila clapped her hands and beamed. There was no way I was going to win this argument, and I was sure my mom had already broached the subject with Monique anyway. I was outnumbered. “I guess any extra funds we bring in will help; we’re saving up for another IVF treatment - at least I think we still are - and that would really get us started. We’ll need to clean out the space, though.”

“I can do that,” Mila said. Her eyes were shining, and she looked happier than she had all day. Mila left her seat, and as she stood the glow from the fire backlit her dark, wild hair and intensified the swell of her hips and the colour of her dress. She glowed in the dark like a fertile forest goddess. She closed the distance between the chairs and leaned down, unknowingly allowing me a full, unrestricted view of her ripe dangling breasts for a long second before she pressed them against me and pulled me into a hug.

“Thank you so much. I promise I’ll be the perfect tenant,” she said, her breath tickling my ear. And if the sight of her creamy tits wasn’t enough to send my cock into overdrive, then the warm ripples of her breath rushing down my spine did the trick.

I let go of her and gently pushed her away, though her floral scent lingered like a cloud around my intoxicated head.

“No problem,” I managed as she stood upright, towering over me in the chair, and I commended myself on not sneaking another peek at her cleavage.

“I have a month before I need to be out, so I can come over and clean when I’m done with work every day and on weekends. Suzanne will help, right Suzanne?”

Our cousin Suzanne happened to be walking by, and she stopped.

“What am I helping with?” she asked.

“Mila is going to rent out the space above my garage,” I said, knowing there was no going back now.

“Dude, you know it was all my idea right?” Suzanne said to Mila.

“Yeah, of course it was,” Mila said, rolling her eyes. “But it really is perfect.”

“You know what would be even more perfect,” Suzanne said, a wide grin on her face, “would be for Mila to be a surrogate for you and Monique. Solve everyone’s problems in one fell swoop.”

“You’re crazy, Suzanne!” Mila squealed. “I couldn’t do that…”

“Why not? You got anything important to do for the next nine months?” Suzanne countered, hands on hips.

“Well, no…” Mila said.

“Oh, come on. You two are wasted. I think that’s just a little too high of a price to pay for rent. Even round these parts!” I joked.

It was an insane idea.

We all laughed at the craziness of the idea, and I looked around for Monique. She was still inside, and I was glad. It was one thing for Suzanne or anyone else to joke with me about a baby, but Monique would have been crushed.

I glanced up at Mila; her forehead was crinkled again as if in deep thought. Her eyes fluttered to meet mine, sensing my gaze. Without thinking, I smiled to reassure her and gave her a friendly wink, and immediately her face transformed: radiant.

“How about we get you a place to live first? And leave the baby making to me and Monique” I said. “Here’s to our new housemate. Welcome home, Roommie,” I said, laughed and rose my glass.

Mila returned the gesture and I stood and wrapped my arms around her again. She was warm, and she slid into my arms perfectly. With my hands close to her hips, I had a sudden flash of her pregnant, carrying my child. Blooming with promise.

Mila was healthy and, with the exception of her total addiction to junk food, took really good care of herself. Maybe the idea wasn’t so crazy after all; the seed had been planted.

I pulled back from her and looked into her eyes. She was looking at me with raised eyebrows and I wished I could read her thoughts.