Dick: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance (3 page)

I watched as her frown
dissipated into an expression of the purest shock I’d ever seen on anyone’s
face. I watched her eyes, expecting them to dart around the room, to find
someone she’d been aching to go after for among the guests she’d invited, but
the more I watched her, the more I realized that her eyes never wavered from
me
.

Chapter
3

Jessica

Who
do you want to fuck the most
?

“
What
?” I finally shouted as I sat up, fists clenched. My stepbrother
had done some shitty things in the past, but this one would take the cake. He
came into
my
party and took it over,
turning my nice, quiet evening into some bacchanal. And now he had the gall to
ask me who I wanted to sleep with?

The entire room was silent
around my stepbrother and me. I could feel their stares boring into me as they
waited for my response. Every pair of eyes was asking the same question again
and again.

I could see some of the
boys in the room sitting up, attentively waiting for my answer. I knew what
they wanted to hear without them having to say a word. Every single man in that
room was hoping I’d look into their eyes and confess my deep, unadulterated
desire for their bodies, about how I’d always wanted to impale myself on their
rigid members while I screamed out to the heavens how incredible they were in
bed.

“You’re a real piece of
shit, Richard.”

“I’ve been called worse,”
he said, shrugging, that lazy smirk still plastered across his face, “but
you’re the one who asked for ‘Truth,’ Jess. I mean, the easy thing to do would
just be to tell everyone who you want to bone. That’s the whole point of ‘Truth’
in this game, after all—telling secrets.”

“Maybe I don’t want to tell
anyone my secrets,” I said, glaring daggers at my stepbrother as he lounged
back on his hands. I watched more than a few women looking at him as he sat
there, biting their lips excitedly. I hated them for wanting him the same way I
hated
myself
for wanting him. “This
game is stupid.”

A resounding
boo
came from the people in the room,
along with a few who stood in the doorway to observe. The sound came mostly
from the men, who were still so eager to picture me laying prone in front of
them with my ass in the air, begging for whatever they had passing for a penis.

“But those are the rules,
Jess-ic-a,” my stepbrother said, accentuating every syllable of my name. “If
you didn’t want to play by the rules, then you
really
shouldn’t have started to play.”

“I
never said that I wanted to play your stupid game, Richard—”

“You sat down with everyone
else,” he said, shrugging again. “Everyone’s playing, and now it’s your turn.
You
chose
to tell a truth, and now
that I’ve actually asked you one, you don’t want to play anymore. That’s not
very sporting of you.”

“I don’t care,” I said.
“Ask someone else that stupid question.”

I tried so hard not to look
at him as he spoke, but my eyes constantly returned to the way his lips moved,
so full and soft-looking—lips I’d dreamed time and time again of kissing in the
heat of passion, with his cock buried inside of my body.

“It’s against the rules,”
he said, his voice rising and falling as though he were singing a song. “You
have
to answer it.”

I hated the way Richard’s
gorgeous eyes looked right through me, how they made my heart flutter and skip
with just the slightest glance in my direction. I could already feel my insides
beginning to squirm, my thighs clamped tight to deny the heat that was rising
between them. I had butterflies, and
those
butterflies had butterflies.

“Ask me something else,” I
said, arms crossed over my chest as I felt the scorching, concentrated glare of
every man in the room on my breasts, imagining what they must really look like
beneath my modest top. “Anything else.”

“But where’s the fun in
that?” he asked, a laugh rising from the others in the crowd. “If it’s not
embarrassing, then what’s the point?”

“I hate you,” I muttered,
my fists clenched. I hated how sweaty my palms were, how nervous and excited
his mere proximity made me. It was so hard to deny the wetness growing between
my legs, not to mention uncomfortable.

That question rang over and
over again in my mind:
Who do you want to
fuck the most
?

And every time my mind
asked the question, the answer was sitting right in front of me, his tasty-looking
muscles rippling and moving whenever he shifted his weight. I licked my lips,
trying my best to keep them from drying out. I wanted to hide, and at the same
time, I wanted to crawl on top of my stepbrother and
show
him who I wanted inside of me the most.

A sound broke me away from
my thoughts, one that I’d almost thought had come from my imagination.
Everyone’s head turned to stare at the source of the low, deep moaning that had
brought the rest of the room to complete silence. Slowly, grins began to spread
across the faces of the guests, and suddenly Richard let out a chuckle before
turning back to face me.

“Looks like Becky is having
a fun seven minutes,” he said, grinning at me wickedly as I heard a few cheers
rise up from a few of the men who sat around the room as the low, soft noises
continued, one loud and clear, the other was softer and muffled with a
strangely rhythmic quality to it that I didn’t quite know how to explain.

“Go Michael!” one of the
other guy’s shouted, laughing uproariously.

I clenched my fists
tighter, feeling my nails digging hard into the heel of my palm as I realized
what was happening. I hated that Becky was in there with Michael, and the image
of her mouth wrapped around his hard cock intruded into my thoughts like a train
wreck. It was hard to get it out of my head.

“See, Jess?” Richard asked,
motioning toward the closet door. “Becky’s having fun with the game. Maybe if
you’d relax and play along, we can
all
have fun.”

I felt like my throat had sewn
shut, and no matter how much I swallowed to try and say something back to my stepbrother,
nothing came out. I wanted to yell at him, I wanted to scream and slap him
across his stupid perfect face. I wanted to press my body against his and kiss
those gorgeous lips until he ripped my clothes off.

I hated him and I wanted
him all at the same time. My panties were soaked, my eyes barely able to turn
away from him every time he prompted me to answer, prompted me to tell him the
one thing that I knew that I could never let him know. I wanted to give myself
to him so badly—the last few years of our lives had been torture, knowing that
only a room away my sexy stepbrother lay sleeping. He was my Adonis, and I
hated him for being forbidden from ever knowing how I worshiped him.

“So, Jessica, what’s it
going to be?” Richard asked again. “Which person in this room do you want to
fuck the most?”

I swallowed, feeling a bead
of nervous sweat slowly make its way down the side of my face and down along my
cheek. I hated the way he looked at me, the way he talked and asked me things I
could never answer. Most of all I hated the way that my eyes answered him
whenever he’d ask me, always looking at that gorgeous form that could have made
gods weep.

“I can’t…” I whispered, my
voice strangled in my throat.

I looked at Richard again,
pleading with him not to ask me again, not to make me say the one secret that
I’d kept from everyone save for my best friend. He was my one true desire, the
thing I could never have no matter what, my forbidden love. But as I let my
eyes rest on him, I noticed the way his legs parted as he shifted his weight,
and there between his thighs was a bulge the likes of which I’d never seen
before in my life.

I marveled at it for a
moment, doing my best to contain my reaction, though inside my mind I was
almost crying. If I’d been soaked before, I was drenched now, so wet that I
felt like I’d just come in from a rainstorm between my thighs. I was quivering,
shaking with the effort of turning away from that briefest hint of what my
brother carried between his legs.

Is
this turning him on
?
I wondered, finally able to tear my eyes away as his legs once again closed and
he got himself comfortable. But as I looked away, my eyes were drawn into his,
into a stare so intense that I could have sworn he’d caught me looking at him.
All he did was grin, that cocky, overconfident grin that infuriated me in way
that only a hand between my legs could resolve.

“How about we make a deal?”
he asked, looking up toward the ceiling in thought. “If you don’t want to spill
your secret crush, then just this once, I’ll let you change your option. If you
don’t want to tell us who you’d rather fuck, you can do a
dare
instead.”

I swallowed hard, my face
draining of color as I stare at him in disbelieve.

“But I have to warn you,”
he continued, “I’m going to make sure that it’s a
really
good one.”

“I fucking hate you,” I
said, getting to my feet.

“Oh, c’mon, Jess!” he said,
though despite his supposed displeasure he seemed to take enjoyment from
pushing me so far. “It’s just a little dare. What could go wrong?”

“You need to go fuck
yourself,” I spat, turning away from him and pushing my way out of the room. I
needed to leave and I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way.

“Jess!” I heard from behind
me as I made it to the front door. It took all my resolve not to turn and look
into my stepbrother’s eyes. Thankfully my anger was more than enough to keep my
legs moving as I pushed through the crowd of still gyrating bodies and made for
the door. Bursting into the open I was hit with the cool air. I was glad for
the low heat as I set off for home at a jog, even as my tears stung on my
cheek.

How could he have done
something like that to me?

I knew that Richard had
always loved to torture me, and for a time I thought that maybe it was his way
of showing me some odd form of brotherly affection. But this had reached a
level that bordered on pure sadism that I never imagined possible from even
him. He’d come to my own party, with
my
friends for
my
graduation, and
proceeded to transform it into what had practically become an orgy.

I choked back a sob as I
felt the weight of my party’s failure crashing over me. Everything had been
perfect until my stepbrother had shown up, everyone was talking and having a
good time. It was just the way I’d planned it, down to the very last detail.
But the one thing I hadn’t planned for—the one person who I never imagined
would show up—came in and completely turned my whole get-together upside down.

“Jessica! Come on! It was
just a game!” I heard him calling from almost a block away. But the sound of
his excuses and half-assed apology only served to make me angrier.

Bastard
, I thought as I rounded a
corner and headed toward me parents’ home.

Everything had gone from
polite conversation to people fucking in the closets in the blink of an eye, all
thanks to my own personal Dick. I hated him with every fiber of my being. If I
had a say in it, he’d stay at Yale and never come back, living out the rest of
his life across the country where I could never again be bothered by the
thought of his perfect, delicious existence.

I didn’t stop until I was
more than a few blocks away from Becky’s house, my own only a few streets away.
I crumpled into a heap beneath an oak tree, my arms wrapped around myself as I
mourned the one party I’d ever throw in my entire life, the only time I’d dare
to even think of having a semblance of a social life. It had crumbled to pieces
before my eyes.

“I never want to see him
again,” I whispered to the cold stillness of the night around me, my eyes
closed as I pleaded with whoever was up above to grant me this one request—to
take my stepbrother out of my life forever so that I’d never have to grieve over
what I could never have. “I just want him to go away.”

Chapter
4

Dick

“Jess!” I called out into
the warm summer air. “C’mon! It’s just a game!”

The night was only just now
beginning to cool down after the merciless assault from the sun. I breathed in
the cool air as I scanned the street for any signs of Jessica, hoping that I’d
be able to catch her before she got too far.

“Jessica! Come back to the
party!” I called out again, though the only sound that came in answer was a
celebratory shout from inside. I glanced back, looking in through the living
room window as I watched one of Jessica’s nerdy friends get what might have
passed for a lap dance from one of the girls. I shook my head before turning my
attention back to the search for my stepsister.

She
couldn’t have gotten too far
, I thought as I made my way through
the car-packed street, on the lookout for Jessica’s lithe silhouette. I knew
I’d upset her, and that really was the whole point, but watching her run out of
the house like that brought about a twinge of guilt in my stomach—something I
rarely felt. Life was too short to waste time feeling guilty over things—better
to get over it and move on than dwell on the things that we regret. But even
so, I at least owed Jessica an apology.

“Jessica!” I called again,
my hands cupped on either side of my mouth. “Come back!”

But the only sounds that
greeted me were the soft chirp of the crickets in the summer air. She was gone,
and though I knew she would only have gotten a few blocks by now—especially
since our house was only so far away from Becky’s—it still made me
uncomfortable to know she’d completely taken off.

She
didn’t have to take it so seriously
, I thought, shoving my hands into my
pockets.
It
was
just a game, after all
.

But was that totally true?

I looked back toward
Becky’s house, the sounds of the growing revelry rolling out from the open door
as a few of Jessica’s friend’s spilled out onto the front lawn. The way Jessica
had looked at me in there was like nothing I’d seen before, not from her. Her
eyes never left me after I’d asked her that question.

Out
of everyone in this room, who do you want to fuck the most?

I saw something in those
eyes, something beyond her frightened deer-in-the-headlights stare. It was
almost immediate, the way my body responded to that look, the way she stared
into my eyes as if to answer the question in her stunned silence. I knew the look
behind those eyes, the feeling she was too scared to express deep down, the one
that I knew she wanted to tell me despite all of the fear.

My stepsister wanted to
fuck me.

I gave some thought to
running after her, to confronting her about the way she’d reacted, the things
that it implied. But the idea of putting her through that was just too much.
There was a difference between teasing her and torturing her in public and
going after her on her own, making my little jabs personal. I might not have
been the nicest brother in the world—heck, I’d heard Jessica and Becky refer to
me as the “stepbrother from hell.” But there was one thing that I never was,
and that was
cruel
.

Could I really blame her
for being attracted to me? I mean, I was a certified stud and everyone at
school knew I was no stranger to the female body. Not to mention Jessica and I
hardly even knew one another before our parents met, and starting high school
sharing a house with a hot boy that your mom tells you to call your brother
couldn’t have been easy. I almost felt a little sorry for the way Jessica must
have felt—especially since I’d been harboring something of a crush on her when
we’d first met. Thinking back on it now, I wondered whether that little crush
of mine had ever actually faded, or simply changed into the strange teasing
that Jessica had come to despise me for.

It hadn’t been easy for me.
All senior year I’d begun to catch myself watching Jessica in ways I’d only
reserved for girls on the cheerleading squad, especially the way her ass looked
in those tight little pencil skirts.

I had cursed more than once
the fact that the two of us were brother and sister—at least by marriage. The
stigma of doing the things that I’d imagined doing to Jessica had weighed
heavily on me whenever my thoughts had wandered to those dark, lustful corners
of my mind. I could only imagine what it had been like for my repressed stepsister.
And now, with the two of us going to opposite ends of the country for school,
it looked like we’d finally be safe from our own desires… But was that what I
really wanted?

I heaved a sigh as I once
more glanced back at the party I’d breathed life into. Jessica had probably had
enough of me tonight, and if what I thought was true, then she needed time to
herself to…
unwind
. And what kind of
person would I be to leave a party I’d brought back from the brink of boredom?

The game of Truth or Dare
had continued without me, with more than a few boys and girls engaged in some
hardly sensible displays of gratuitous affection. I leaned against the
doorframe to the master bedroom, observing the sexual tension in the room
sizzle and boil over. Things were certainly getting good.

The door to the walk-in
closet opened and Becky’s disheveled form stumbled out, a bleary—if
satisfied—look in her eye, followed closely by the dark-haired man I’d sent in
after her, a cocky smirk smeared across his face like so much of Becky’s
lipstick.

Now I remembered where I’d
seen him before.

Jessica always kept her
boyfriends away from me, hiding them away from the whole family, but that smirk
was unmistakable. This was the asshole… I’d only seen him from a distance when
he’d dropped Jess off, and I knew the two of them had something of a rocky
relationship—to put it lightly. Every few months, Jessica would come home from
a date she’d had with this guy upset and angry, though I’d never honestly asked
her why. Figured it was just teenaged bullshit.

“Looks like someone had
some fun,” I said, provoking a blush and an almost shameful look from Becky as
she rushed out of the bedroom. I chuckled as I watched her lock herself away in
the bathroom to clean herself up. She seemed to be having a good time.

At
least one of us is
,
I thought, turning my gaze back to the room.

Michael was getting
congratulated and patted on the back by all of his friends, all of whom stared
up at him with puppy-dog-like admiration. The dynamic between them all made me
frown as I watched Michael soak up all their praise. Something about him didn’t
sit too well with me.

Michael was very well-dressed,
surprisingly put-together for someone who was only just moments ago getting
some very intimate treatment from a pretty girl. The fact that he
wasn’t
as disheveled as Becky had me put
off. Men who were that concerned about their looks always had me on edge, like
they were hiding something behind that perfectly coiffed hair and smart outfit.

The more I watched Michael
and his little nerd posse, the less I actually liked him. Every single one of
them fit a certain mold, but Michael didn’t belong here. He was almost as fit
as I was, and it was clear he came from money. It left a bad taste in my mouth,
watching him lord over his followers.

“Spill it, Mike!” one of
them said, their nasally voice resonating in the most grating way possible.
“Did she put out?”

“Did she ever,” Michael
laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I had that bitch sucking my
cock like the slut she is.”

I frowned, my fists
clenched as I continued listening to Michael go on about how he had Becky
begging.

“She whined like a bitch in
heat,” he said, that cocky grin still plastered on his face.

If only I’d had something
close enough to throw, I’d have hit that smarmy little shit right in the eye. I
thought I was doing both of them a favor, but clearly this little prick was
just in it for a little fun and bragging rights. I’d always liked Becky—she was
a good friend to Jess, and always did her best to get her out of trouble. I’d
even started to consider her a part of the family, like a distant cousin who
just won’t leave your house. She needed a chance to let loose, but hearing this
jackass talking about her like that started to get my blood boiling.

It took every ounce of my
willpower not to march up to that prick and punch him right in his smug little
face, but I had to stay cool. One slip-up and my full ride to Yale might just
go down the drain before the first check could be cut. Going to college meant
everything to my father, especially heading to Yale, and if I fucked that up
I’d never hear the end of it. I needed to behave.

“Can you just imagine all
the pussy we’re going to get after we’re in college?” one of Michael’s minions sniveled.

“You know it,” Michael
laughed, “and when I get to UCLA, I’m going to own that place.”

All of them laughed

If
Michael’s going to UCLA, then that means he’s going to be there with Jessica
, I thought to myself.
If he treats the women who give it up to him
that way, I can only imagine the way he treats the ones who don’t
.

It was no secret that
Jessica had never been laid. I mean, how could someone be that uptight after
getting their needs met? No, Jessica was the exact opposite—she was a ball of
nerves and frustration wrapped up in her pretty little conservative clothes. She
and Michael had fought a lot—shouting matches over the phone, from what I’d
witnessed.

“So where’s Jessica? I want
to see the look on her fucking ice queen face,” Michael said to his friends
just loud enough that I could hear it. “Maybe if she’s lucky, I’ll let her have
some sloppy seconds.”

I
have to keep that jackass away from her
, I thought, giving Michael one last
glance before I ducked back out of the room.

A strange feeling was
welling up inside me… Jealousy mingled with anger, but something else was on
the edge of my perception. As I thought about Jessica all I could see was the
way she stared at me with those wide eyes when I asked her who she wanted to
fuck. There it was, plain as day.

Desire. Raw and
unrepentant.