Redemption: A British Stepbrother Romance (24 page)

I
’d had
plenty of one-on-one meetings with lawyers over the last year, but none like this.

My law school recommended reaching out to lawyers and offering to buy them coffee for the chance to get to know what they did on a daily basis. Of course, the point was to impress them and hope they’d offer you a job or at least a more formal interview, but we all went along with the charade.

This meeting was different. We’d already knocked back a couple of drinks each and now I was hitting that stage where the alcohol had removed my usual inhibitions and brought me dangerously close to flirting. That was bad because I couldn’t flirt. I was hopeless at it even with men I knew and trusted. With this guy--what was his name?--I didn’t stand a chance.

I’d been quiet at first, but now he couldn’t shut me up. I’d told him all about Zach and how he had used every opportunity to get me in his office over the summer. Zach had put himself in charge of my assignments, so everything I did had to flow through him. He’d insisted on going through all his corrections in person, usually sitting next to me and peering down my top as he pretended to point out my mistakes.

“You could report him,” the man said, as he came back from the bar with another drink. How many was this? Three? Four? It was too many. I shouldn’t be drinking so much in front of an attorney. It wasn’t professional. “Law firms don’t want to deal with claims of sexual harassment.”

“His dad’s a partner, so that isn’t really an option. Besides, I don’t want to get that label. I’ll never find a job if I’m the one who files sexual harassment claims during a summer job. Not that it matters now. I’m screwed. Zach’s going to make sure I don’t get invited back next summer.”

“You sure you want to work there anyway?” he asked. “Working in a big law firm isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” I responded. The man frowned, clearly thinking it odd that I dreamed of working for a big law firm.

I unloaded on him. I couldn’t help it. I’d blame the alcohol, but I’m not sure it was that. There was something in his eyes that made me weak, and stripped down the barriers I usually kept in place for professional conversations.

I didn’t even know his name, but I told him how my mother had been a lawyer for a big firm and how I wanted to follow in her footsteps.

“What does your mother think about this?” he asked.

“Not a lot. She died seven years ago.”

“Sorry. I know how you feel though. My father passed away a few years back.”

“You don’t need to hear all this.” I closed my eyes and took some slow breaths. I was starting to sweat under my clothes, but I didn’t know if that was because of the heat or the sight of the man opposite me.

“Let’s go up to the roof,” he said, taking me by the hand and leading me upstairs.

It wasn’t any cooler outside. The humidity in D.C. tended to last well into the evening, but at least there were fewer people out here. We found a spot in the corner with a degree of privacy. I took a slow sip of my drink, using it as an opportunity to stare at him again. He had a thick neck with a visible vein, which weaved between muscles that I hadn’t even known existed.

I’d been drinking with this man for over an hour now, and all I’d done was make myself look like an idiot. Other women were looking in our direction, like vultures waiting to pounce once he’d realized I wasn’t worth it and decided to move on. The least I could do was make a bit of effort. I mumbled something about feeling hot, and opened a few buttons on my blouse.

I instantly regretted it, when I saw a flash of the tatty old bra I’d slipped on for the evening. Hardly a great impression to make, and it’s not like my tits were worth showing off anyway.

“I’ll make sure you get a job next summer,” the man said. “But it won’t be where I work.”

He looked down at my exposed chest, without bothering to be subtle about it. Usually I would make a quick attempt to cover up, but instead I crossed my arms under my breasts and pushed them up slightly. Maybe it wasn’t too late to salvage something from this evening.

“We don’t take summer associates at my firm,” he continued, looking up into my eyes again. I thought I caught a glimpse of desire there, but it quickly disappeared. “No offense, but they’re not worth the hassle.”

“Oh, thanks,” I replied, in mock indignation.

He smiled and once again a flush of heat washed over my body. This one definitely had nothing to do with the humidity.

“You did well to get a job in your first summer though,” he said. “How did you manage that?”

“Good grades, I guess.”

I was being modest. I had near perfect grades, but I didn’t want him to think of me as some nerdy law student right now.
Why did I have to wear such a boring skirt?
I tried to subtly pull it up, but it refused to budge, staying firmly put around my knees.

“I hope you find the time for a little fun once in a while,” he said. “I partied a lot in law school. Makes all those cases a lot easier to bear.”

“I’m not really the partying type.”

“There’s nothing like just letting go for the evening and having the time of your life.”

“Have you settled down now?” I asked.

“Is that your way of asking whether I have a girlfriend?” he asked, flashing a smile at me.

“Just curious.”

There was no way he had a girlfriend. He looked every bit the playboy, in his expensive suit, and the devilish look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t exactly after a girlfriend or anything even remotely serious.

“I don’t do relationships. If I’m feeling particularly generous, I will spend an entire night with one woman and give her an experience she’ll never forget, but that’s it. The most anyone gets is one night.”

I raised my hand to my mouth, but I wasn’t quick enough to cover the laugh that escaped my lips. I don’t know why I found it funny. I just hadn’t been expecting him to be so forward. Or so boastful. One second we were talking about work, and the next he was telling me he was some sort of sex god. I believed every word he said.

“Are all lawyers this arrogant?” I asked playfully.

“Yes,” he replied. “But
I
have the goods to back it up.” He leaned in, and for one terrifying second I thought he was going to kiss me, but he just whispered in my ear. “If you want to check out my goods, you can go right ahead and reach out a hand. In fact, better make it two.”

He was worse than Zach, except this time I didn’t care. I should leave now, go straight home and forget all about this stranger, but I knew I couldn’t. I was physically incapable of looking away from him, and even if I did make it home, I’d never be able to just forget him. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world for that.

I didn’t reach out like he wanted me to, but I did look down. Even in the dim lights on the rooftop, I could make out a substantial bulge between his legs where he brazenly had his erection on show for anyone to see. Except only I could see it. The erection was for me; all I had to do was claim it.

“What makes you any better than Zach?” I asked, trying to ignore the fact that my heart was beating furiously in my chest.

“I’ll make you come,” he responded without skipping a beat. “A lot. You’ll still be screaming my name in ten years’ time when you’re married with kids. I’ll take you in ways you’ve never even dreamed about. What would Zach do? Squirm around on top of you for a bit while you pretend you’re enjoying it?”

I laughed again. That was probably an accurate enough description, if not of Zach then certainly of some ex-boyfriends of mine. Most of my ex-boyfriends in fact.

“How far away do you live?” he asked.

“It’s about a ten minute walk.”

“If we leave now, I can have you coming in twenty minutes. You’ll be soaking wet, and come will be dripping down the insides of your thighs and pooling on the bed.”

Holy fucking shit. He meant it.

This wasn’t some idle talk. I could actually be in the throes of an orgasm in twenty minutes’ time. The thought was paralyzing. I hadn’t come with another man since I started law school.

“Looks like I have an answer,” he said, smiling and nodding down at my chest.

My nipples had stiffened, and the worn padding of my bra had done little to help hide the evidence from appearing on the front of my shirt. We were both visibly erect; there was no denying that we both wanted to do this. The only question was whether we should.

Screw it. I needed this. I needed him. It’s not like I would ever see him again.

“Okay then. Your twenty minutes starts now.”

T
he walk
back to my apartment took a lot less than ten minutes, largely because the man--God dammit, what was his name?--moved at twice my usual pace, and I had to hurry to keep up with him.

We entered the dingy, old apartment building located just a fifteen minute walk away from school. The place was “cheap,” which in D.C. meant anything under $2,000 a month for a one-bedroom apartment. All in all, it was the perfect place for a broke student. It
wasn’t
the perfect place to bring home a one-night stand which you were hoping to keep a secret.

The man pressed the button to call the elevator. As usual, only one of the damn things was working and it appeared to be stuck on the eighth floor.

“What floor are you on?” he asked.

“Fourth.”

“We’re taking the stairs,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the stairwell.

“What’s the rush? Worried you won’t meet your twenty minute target?”

He stopped and turned around, pushing me gently against the wall. For a second, his eyes latched onto mine, and then suddenly his lips covered my mouth, enveloping me in the most passionate kiss I’d ever had.

I placed my hands on his shoulders, not really sure what else to do with them, and then surrendered myself to him. His reached down and tugged my skirt up enough so that my legs could open wide enough for him to slide between them.

His erection pressed against my stomach, until he lifted me off the floor and let it rub teasingly against my sex.

Suddenly I heard the loud metallic sound of a door opening above us. I tried to push him off me, but for a few seconds he resisted, pushing his large cock against me one last time, before letting me go. I only just about managed to pull my skirt down by the time Colin, from my section at school, bounded down the stairs.

He looked far too awake for this time of night, which probably meant he was up consuming ridiculous quantities of caffeine--the drug of choice for most law students.

“Evening,” I said nervously as they approached. My ‘date’ just stood there grinning, loving every second of my embarrassment.

“Hey,” Colin responded. “I’m just off to the shop for some study provisions.” By ‘study provisions’ he probably meant disgusting energy drinks, if the empty cans that usually littered his apartment were anything to go by. “You want anything? Or do you have other plans for the evening?”

Colin had a well-deserved reputation as a gossip. Within a few days, everyone in my section would know that I had brought a man home from the bar and I would never hear the end of it. You could get away with one-night stands in college, but everyone in law school thought of themselves as far too mature for that kind of thing. Usually I was one of those people.

“This is my brother,” I said, motioning to the stranger and hoping to God that Colin hadn’t come around the corner quick enough to see us kissing. “He’s in town for a few days, so he’s going to crash on my floor for a few days.”

“Nice to meet you,” the man said, giving Colin’s hand a firm shake. “I’m going to have my head down on April’s carpet within minutes.”

Oh my God, way to be subtle
.

“There are no carpets,” Colin said. “Just hardwood.”

“No carpet?” the man said, flashing me a smile. “That’s just fine with me.”

Colin didn’t seem to notice the obvious innuendo, so he just carried on down the stairs and out the door.

“Brother?” the man asked. “It’s going to be rather hard to explain all the screaming coming from your room, and trust me, there’s going to be a lot of screaming.”

A gentle shiver spread down my spine as I remembered his promise.
I’ll have you coming in fifteen minutes
. We didn’t have long if he was going to keep that promise, but I knew he wouldn’t need it. My panties were wet from the brief moment he had his erect cock rubbing against me. If he touched my exposed body… I shivered again.

“Let’s get upstairs,” I said. “We don’t want to bump into anyone else.”

And I want to get you in my bed,
I thought as I turned toward the doorway and went inside.

I led the way up the stairs. I could feel his eyes staring at my ass the entire way. Just thinking of the things he would do to me once the door was closed had me feeling weak at the knees, like I was trying to climb the stairs after a long run.

We headed onto the fourth floor, and down to the end of the hall to my apartment. I fumbled around in my purse for my keys, but I could swear they were hiding from me, as if giving me one final chance to back down and tell this stranger to go home. There was no way that could happen now. I didn’t want it to.

My hand froze in my purse, as I felt his breath on the back of my neck. His lips brushed lightly against the soft skin, as his hands reached around and cupped my breasts, which felt tiny in his grasp. Perhaps that was why I usually went for smaller men--so as not to feel quite so inadequate.

“Do you want me to open the door or not?” I asked, as I sank back into his rough embrace.

“If you don’t do it soon, I’m going to knock the door off its hinges.”

I didn’t doubt him for a second. The keys gave up hiding, and I pulled them out of my purse, my hand shaking from fear, excitement, or both. I heard the man growling behind me as I fumbled with the key, not getting it in the lock until the third attempt.

The key finally slid inside.

I opened the door and the man immediately pushed me through, slamming the door shut behind me. This was it. I had a stranger in my house for the first time ever. This was going to happen.

His hands went straight to my blouse, opening the buttons with surprising dexterity given the size of his fingers. This wasn’t the first blouse he’d removed in a hurry, but I tried not to think of that. His experience in these situations was the very reason I had invited him back to my apartment; I couldn’t hold that against him now. We were going to fuck, not get married.

My blouse had barely hit the floor, when his hands pulled down the zipper on my skirt and tugged it past my thighs before letting it slip to the floor.

He examined me in my underwear, while he was still fully clothed. We’d have to rectify that soon. I wanted to see what lay under that suit almost as much as I wanted to take his attention away from my tatty old bra and panties.

“Where’s the bedroom?” he asked, his breath heavy with desire. “We can do this here, but I prefer a bed to work on.”

I pointed to the room on the right but let him lead the way. He took a firm hold of my hand and pulled me through the door, before pushing me down onto the bed. I still felt exposed, so I tried to get under the covers.

“No,” he said sternly. “I want to look at you.”

I laid back on my elbows and tried to look confident as he gazed down at my body, taking in every inch of my skin. When he looked between my legs, I felt certain he could see through my panties. He probably could--they were soaking wet and the white fabric would need peeling off my sex.

“The clock’s ticking,” I said jokingly. “You don’t have long left.”

“I have plenty of time,” he replied. He wandered around the other side of the bed, and finally slipped off his suit jacket, placing it on the back of my chair. His thick fingers removed the cufflinks from his shirt sleeves which he placed on my desk. He sure was taking his sweet time.

“It’s only fair that I get to see you naked too.”

“You will,” he replied, as he slowly started to undo the buttons on his shirt. As the shirt opened, I saw the tattoos spreading from his chest up to his arms. I’d never been with a man with tattoos before--this really was a night of firsts in many ways. I couldn’t make out any particular pictures on his chest. There just seemed to be a black swirl of lines and shapes covering his upper body.

When the shirt fell to the floor, my eyes followed the markings to his arms, and traced them all the way down to his wrists. The tattoos had just about been covered by the shirt he wore. I wondered how many of his colleagues and clients knew what he looked like when the suit came off.

Plenty of women had been in this position before me, and there would be plenty after, but the way his eyes remained focused on me as he undressed made me feel that right here in the moment I was the most important thing to him. At least I would be for the next hour, anyway.

He’d taken his pants off while I had been staring at his chest, and now he was walking up to the bed in just a pair of boxers that did absolutely nothing to hide the stonking great big erection bursting through, straining to be let out.

I should be terrified right now, but there was just enough alcohol still in my system to make me giddy with excitement instead. He sat down on the bed next to me, and reached behind me, flicking open my bra in one quick movement, and then pulling it off from the front with his other hand. He’d done that before.

My nipples were already rock hard, and my breasts were now covered in goosebumps despite the warmth in my apartment. He looked at them greedily, then lowered his mouth as if to kiss them, but instead went lower, kissing my belly button.

He crawled between my legs, as his kisses went lower and lower, finally touching the cotton of my panties. I reached down and slipped my thumbs under the waistband, desperate to get them off and have him touch my pussy, but he stopped me, grabbing my wrists and pushing them away.

“Not yet,” he said softly. His lips went to the inside of my right thigh, where he kissed every inch of exposed skin.

I whimpered under his touch, and moved my sex towards his face, desperate for him to move faster. For a man who had only a few minutes left to make me come, he certainly was taking his time.

Finally he flicked his tongue against the damp cotton between my legs. I let out a low groan, and looked down at him. Our eyes met. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. His thumbs hooked under the waistband of my panties, and I lifted my ass into the air, ready for him to whisk them off. Instead he moved his mouth to my left thigh and resumed kissing me, seemingly oblivious to how much my pussy needed to feel his touch.

Usually it was me trying to slow guys down, hoping to stretch out the experience, but now I couldn’t bear the wait. Each kiss sent a tingle of heat through my body, but I was already hot where it mattered. Hot and wet.

Once his lips had touched every part of my inner thigh, he raised himself up on his knees and looked down at me. I couldn’t look at anything other than the massive bulge between his legs. I didn’t even care about him going down on me anymore. I was already wet enough. He could just take me now if he wanted to, and from the look on his face, I was fairly sure he did.

His fingers took hold of my panties, and this time he did pull them off before casting them to one side and heading back down between my legs.

I raised my hips to meet his tongue, desperate to get him touching me as soon as possible. He immediately took hold of my legs and locked me in place, stopping me from moving.

“I’m in control here,” he said sternly.

“Then get on with it,” I yelled in frustration.

He smiled. “You know, I could just make you wait. I have all night.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I replied. “Do you want me to spread the word that you broke your promise?”

“Good point.”

He lowered his lips between my legs, and finally his tongue darted out and slid between my folds. I gripped the bedsheet and cried out as if in shock, but I couldn’t move my legs. He had me locked down and completely under his control.

His tongue explored every crevice, circling my entrance, before moving up to my bud, which was now swollen and sensitive to tough.

This man wasn’t full of empty promises. He’d meant it when he said he could have me coming in minutes. Already the sensation of his touch had completely overwhelmed me, and my inability to move just heightened the desire. Every muscle in my body had tensed up, as he greedily lapped up my juices. I was only seconds away from coming hard in his face.

Then he stopped.

“Keep going,” I whimpered. “Please.”

He looked down at me with lips and his chin covered in my essence, but then stepped off the bed. He picked up his pants and for one fearful moment I thought he was going to leave. Perhaps this had all been some twisted joke to get me close and then leave me to finish the job myself.

Instead I heard the distinctive sound of a foil wrapper being torn open. When he came back to the bed, his large cock had been freed from its cotton prison and was sheathed and ready to go.

“I want you to come all over my cock,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I want to feel your tight pussy clamp down on it as you come hard while I fuck you.”

I knew that was going to happen. It wasn’t even up for debate. The only question was how long it would take. If I were a betting woman, I’d place my money firmly in the ‘less than two minutes’ category.

He climbed back between my legs, and lowered his lips to kiss me. I tasted my eagerness on him, as I pressed my lips to his, waiting impatiently for him to enter me.

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” he asked.

I nodded, as my breath quickened in anticipation. Surely it would happen any second now?

“You’ve never had it like this before,” he said, as his hands reached up and firmly squeezed my breasts. “And you never will again. You only get me for one night.”

If even half my brain had been properly functioning, I would have thrown him out for being such an arrogant asshole, but all it did was make me want him more. Some cocky people are assholes. Some cocky people are just right.

I only had one night, so I was done wasting it.

“Hurry up and fuck me,” I whispered in his ear.

He moved his hips and suddenly he was entering me. His fingers parted my folds, and his tip slipped inside. I screamed as he pushed himself all the way inside. For half a second, I worried about what my neighbors could hear, but that thought disappeared with the second thrust.

“I never took you for a screamer,” he teased.

“I’m not usually.”

“I do tend to have that effect on women.”