STEPBROTHER: Bad Boy Blues (Taboo Romance) (2 page)

STEPBROTHER

Bad Boy Blues

By Ora Wilde

Copyright 2015, Ora Wilde

All Rights Reserved.  No part of this eBook may be reproduced or distributed, either manually or digitally, without the prior written consent of the author.  Brief excerpts for the purpose of reviews are allowed.

WARNING:

This book contains descriptions of sex, profanity, teenaged smoking and teenaged drinking.  The acts enumerated above can cause very dire consequences.  Readers are not encouraged to emulate these deeds.  This book is not intended for readers below 18 years of age.

DISCLAIMER:

None of the sexual acts depicted in this book involve minors, nor partners related in blood.  The sexual acts depicted herein are all consensual.  This book is a work of fiction.  Any relation to real and actual people is purely coincidental.

CONTENTS
:

1. Welcome To The Jungle
   
2. Shout At The Devil
   
3. Rock N’ Roll Is Dead
   
4. When Love And Hate Collide
   
5. Every Rose Has Its Thorn
   
6. Sympathy For The Devil
   
7. You Could Be Mine
   
8. Ten Seconds To Love
   
9. Estranged
   
10. With Or Without You
    
11. Faithfully
    
12. Youth Gone Wild
    
13. Sweet Child O’ Mine
    
14. For Whom The Bell Tolls
    
15. Yesterday
    
16. Time For Change
    
17. I Remember You
    
18. Civil War
    
19. Since I Don’t Have You
    
20. Bed Of Roses
    

B
y lunchtime, almost everyone in school knew who Darwin was.  I can't blame them.  Ours is a small academic community where people from first year to fourth year high know each other by face and by name, where gossips travel faster than the speed of sound, and where no secrets are ever safe.

It didn't help that I told Maggie Saulters, my best friend since third grade, the ignominy that befell me during first period.

"How does he know you?" she asked.

"I think he's my new stepbrother," I replied, still in a state of disbelief at that time.

Within minutes, a candid photo of Darwin spread like wildfire on Twitter, identified with the label
#BettySmithsBrotherIsFuckingHot
.  It was my fault.  I always knew that Maggie was the school's resident Gossip Girl.  I just didn't think that she would circulate details about me. Hell, even if there was a juicy tittle-tattle about me, I didn't think anyone would be interested.

Technically, though, it wasn't about me.  It was about Darwin, the dashing one, the cool guy who has taken over the school by storm with his magnetic charm and overwhelming sex appeal. 

I was just an incidental
tag along
.

People who never even bothered to say hello to me for four years were suddenly greeting me with hellos and small talks.  They were all girls, of course, wanting to get close to me with the hope that they'd be formally introduced to my new sibling.

I was sitting in one corner of the cafeteria with Maggie, a ritual that we religiously observed since first year out of necessity more than anything else.  No one wanted to share our table, after all.  I unpacked my lunch. 
Pasta Puttanesca
, mom's specialty.  Maggie brought a tray with a plate of mashed potatoes and a bowl of something that was supposed to be beef stew. 

"So, has your stepbrother talked to you since your awkward introduction?" she asked before taking a bite of her lunch.

"No, he hasn't," I answered. 

"But he was sitting right next to you for four periods."

"Yup, but he was just silent, occasionally turning his head towards the back row.  I think he was flirting with Chelsea."

"Chelsea Summers?  The slut?"

"Yup, the slut with an amazing body and humongous boobs."

We chuckled at my description of Darwin's object of interest. 

Halfway through our meal, however, he passed by our table.  He was tugging along two big-bodied companions.  I instantly recognized them as Orton Sanders and Benson Riley, two of the most notorious bullies in school.  They've been harassing students since grade school, a habit that carried over to the present.

But what was Darwin doing with them, I wondered.  He's been in school -
my school
- for less than four hours and he already managed to win the adulation of many of the students... including those two jackasses who seemed to worship the ground he walked on?

He stopped at our table and looked at me.

"What's for lunch?" he asked casually, as if he'd known me for years.

"Spaghetti," I answered without even trying to hide my disinterest in talking to him.

"Cool," he uttered, then he proceeded elsewhere.  His two new friends followed him like choirboys walking behind a priest during Sunday mass.

As he walked away, I turned to face Maggie.  I was shocked to see her widened eyes and open mouth, staring quite lasciviously at Darwin's direction.

"Maggie!" I exclaimed, calling her attention.  She didn't even bother to look at me.

"Wow!  That's one mighty fine ass!" she said aloud and without shame.

"It's rude to stare at someone like that," I reminded her.

"I can't help it," she reasoned out.  "Your stepbrother is H-O-T!"

"Maybe that's all he is," I told her, even though I didn't think she was really listening to what I was saying.  "Maybe he's just a hot guy with a nice ass, and nothing more."

A
s the bell sounded to signal the end of the school day, the students quickly poured into the hallway and out the main door.  Everyone was in a hurry to get home.  Not a few were actually excited, as Monday has come to a close.  That meant that there were only four days left until the weekend, and five days before Emerson's party. 

Emerson's gatherings have always been major events for many of the kids my age.  He's known for throwing the most lavish parties.  Not that I have experienced any of them myself, as partying wasn't really my thing.  But the stories about the nights spent at Emerson Perdew's mansion were the stuff of legends in our small town.

I was at the parking area, on my way home, when a really loud roar screamed behind me.  Instinctively, I darted towards the sidewalk, fearing for my life.

A sleek black Ducati motorbike sped towards my direction and abruptly stopped beside me.  Its rider was wearing a helmet, but I didn't need to see his face to know who he was.  Lean, broad shouldered, a tight body that wanted to explode out of his navy blue shirt, and people - mostly females - turning their heads in awe as he steered his bike to my direction...

"What do you want, Darwin?" I asked as I clenched my books and drew them closer to my chest.

"Hey there," he greeted me as he removed his helmet and flashed that dimple-generating smile.  "Do you need a ride?"

I chortled, quite carelessly that a slight snort came out of my nose.  It was embarrassing.

"You mean ride?  With you?  On that thing?"  I gave him a sardonic look.

"Yes.  Ride.  With me.  On this thing." His answer was purposeful... sincere.  He lit up a cigarette as he waited for my answer.

"Nah, sorry," I said.  "I'd rather walk."

"You do know that we're going home to the same house, right?" he asked, as puffs of smoke came out of his mouth.

"I had a small idea, yes."

"And you're still sure you don't want to ride?  With me?  On this thing?"

I let out a deep sigh.

"Yes," I answered very succinctly.

“You know, Elizabeth...” he started after drawing another puff.

“Betty,” I interrupted him.  “Just call me Betty.  Everyone does.”

“You know,
Elizabeth
,” he said once again, emphasizing my complete name, “you will have to learn how to live with me.  This isn’t something that will be over in the morning.  We’re in this for the long haul.”

Wow!
  I have to adjust to him?  Not only is this Darwin brash, rude and unapologetic.  He also has a chip on his shoulder.  He has this feeling of self-entitlement.  He thinks everyone exists just to please him.

“Listen, Darwin,” I emphasized his name as well, to which he just smirked.  “First of all, I don’t have to like you.  I don’t have to be nice to you.  I don’t even have to talk to you.  Secondly, I don’t care if you’re moving in with your dad.  I will not allow you to...”

"Okay then," he said as he cut me off without allowing me to finish.  He took one last puff of his cigarette and flicked the stick away.  He put on his helmet, throttled his bike, and sped off towards the bend on the road, turning right to where the house -
my house
- was located.

Talk about impertinence!

I continued walking.  As I tried to process what just transpired, I realized how awkward that conversation really was, considering that it was the first time we actually spent more than three seconds talking to each other.  Deep in my heart, I still rejected the fact that someone like him has entered - nay,
intruded on
- my life so forcefully, so unexpectedly. 

The world that I've always known has suddenly changed, and I didn’t like it a single bit.