STEPBROTHER Love 1 (7 page)
Read STEPBROTHER Love 1 Online
Authors: I. Scarlet
Joshua
It was like someone had just turned every light on in the whole world and was shining it down on the two of us, right there on that dancefloor.
I couldn’t believe Cali was in my arms.
I couldn’t believe she’d pulled me out here and to her with such determination.
That look she gave when she said to “Never say that again,” made my heart just about explode out of my chest.
Sure, we hadn’t talked about the kiss, and we certainly hadn’t kissed again, but I knew, just from the way she held onto me, with her sweet honey-blonde head on my chest, that she felt
exactly
as I did.
I was fucking in love with her.
Fuck me!
I’d been in love with her for two freaking years. I was just too stupid to own up to it until I’d seen her again at that party.
And now?
And now I loved her.
I know it sounds trite and fucking shitty, but it was as if my heart was beating for her now, and only her.
Bullshit, right?
But I swear that’s exactly what it felt like.
And I could practically hear her name with every beat.
Cali…
Cali…
Cali…
Damn, I was a goner.
Cali
You would think if someone was
already
packed, and had a limo lined up to take them to the airport,
and
you had the freaking plane tickets in your hand, that it would be a quick and
simple
thing to get off to the airport.
Well, that’s what I thought too, but mom had everyone running around the house, trying to find things she hadn’t packed and
desperately
needed. If I didn’t know better I would think my mom was afraid of flying… but that was a crock since I’d been with her for at least ten different flights to places as close as the Bahamas and as far away as Seattle.
The limo was waiting, the driver had come to the door to announce that if they didn’t leave in the next ten minutes they wouldn’t make their flight.
I thought, with how often flights were late and pushed back, that they would be safe. But having mom make everyone run around the house like headless chickens, while she got redder and more hyper with every passing minute, that there had to be something wrong.
When she sent Paul off—again—to find a mini bottle of conditioner she swore was in the laundry room, I grabbed her by the arms and made her look me in the eye.
“What is wrong?”
She blinked and shook her head, a smile I knew damn well was fake on her lips. “Nothing, sweetie. I’ve just forgotten so much… I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.”
I gave her my best
you’re-not-fooling-anyone
look. “Please, you look like you did…”—wait a minute—“this is
exactly
how you acted the first time I went away on my own.”
She laughed and swatted the idea out of the air with her hand, but that laugh died on her lips and tears started to well up in her eyes.
No, no, no… she could not start crying. If mom started crying, I was going to be crying with her, and then she and Paul would never make their plane.
Which was a bad thing… right?
I stamped down on why I wanted her and Paul to stay. And I really didn’t want to think of the reasons I was dying for them to go.
I just wasn’t going to think about it one way or the other.
And then it hit me, why mom was on the verge of tears and why she had us all doing a last minute search party for things they could just buy once they got there.
“You’re afraid of going off with Paul by yourself.”
She looked at me like I was crazy. “What are you talking about? I’ve been alone with your father before.”
“Sure, alone. But going away to a strange place, and it just being the two of you…”
I raised my eyebrows to signal her to fill in the blank.
She stopped fidgeting, hugging herself as if she was cold and looked at me with tear filled eyes. “What if I’m too boring?”
Boring? My mother boring? “Really? That’s what you’re afraid of?”
She shrugged and swiped at her eyes. “I’m not as young or as interesting as I used to be.” She did the nervous laugh again. “I didn’t go on so much as
one
date while your father and I were separated.”
“You were only divorced for two years. How much
interesting
do you think you lost?” And I for one was glad she hadn’t dated. In my mind she and Paul
had
to get back together.
The world just didn’t make any sense with them apart.
I grabbed a tissue from her bedside table and started working on keeping her mascara from running.
“And besides,” I stepped back and looked over the hotness that was my mom. She wore the skin tight little peach mini dress she had on better than any of my girlfriends or I could have, and we were freshmen in college. “You weren’t doing yoga or Pilates two years ago.”
She sniffled and then smiled coyly… which lasted about ten seconds. Then she struck a pose and winked at me.
“I do look pretty good, don’t I?”
I grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. It didn’t matter what she looked like, my mom was the most beautiful woman on the planet, hands down.
“Yeah,” I said with mockery in my voice. “You’re all that and a bag of chips.”
She smacked me on the shoulder. “Oh, you!”
She grabbed another tissue, swiped her eyes again, and then blew her nose. “I must be feeling better, you’re making fun of me.”
I pursed my lips to feign nonchalance. “Sure, but if you think you need some work done, I get a commission for sending people to Melissa’s dad’s plastic surgery clinic.”
Mom’s head whipped around and she glared at me. “I don’t
need
any plastic surgery, thank you very much.” She walked over and took my face in her hands, laying a kiss on my forehead.
Then she got this look on her face, as if she tasted something sour.
Could she taste the sinful, immoral thoughts on my skin?
Please don’t let me taste like a sinner.
“Melissa? Her father’s that creepy Dr. Foggle, right? The one with the elephant ears and the eye staring off into space?”
“Yes, that’s him. I hear he’s the best plastic surgeon in the state.”
Mom shivered and then shook it off. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
She looked in the full length mirror, adjusted a lock of her hair, smoothed a wrinkle from the skirt of her dress, and then took a deep, cleansing breath.
“Okay!” she yelled, motioning me to grab her suitcase, and taking off in her five inch heels down the hall to the stairs. “I’m ready!”
***
I waved to mom and dad as the limo rolled away down the street into the setting sun, only stopping when it turned off toward the highway.
I turned and found Joshua standing there at the front door of the house, looking at me with intense, fathomless eyes.
He turned and went into the house, leaving the door standing open.
Okay… this is it…
This is when I…
When I what?
Give myself to my stepbrother?
Give my virginity to him…
To Joshua…
I gulp, my mouth feeling dry, my heart pounding hard in my chest.
I was not dizzy, but I still wasn’t feeling my best.
I walked toward the house, toward that open front door, and went inside.
It was a lot brighter out than inside, and it took my eyes a bit to adjust.
Joshua stood in the middle of the living room, his suit jacket off, his tie loosened, and his eyes homed in on me.
I moved closer, feeling shy and forward and exhilarated all at the same time.
I stopped three feet away from him, his scent reaching me and making my mind spark with the possibilities.
Well, truthfully, the
possibilities
were pretty much vague ideas from the spicier movies I seen during my life time: Some Rob Lowe movies,
Bull Durham
,
The Lover
,
Friends with Benefits
,
Fifty Shades of Grey
…
True Blood
.
I couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. Who knew faded green would become my favorite color?
I took a breath to say something, but he reached out and gently pressed two fingers against my lips to stop me.
“You’re tired, and I’m…” he looked above and behind me with a poleaxed expression. “Well, I’m feeling a little crazy right now.”
Crazy was good. I could go with him being crazy.
As long as crazy meant him kissing me again.
His gaze stayed on my face for too long, and when he opened his mouth his lips made a little clicking sound. It sounded mournful.
“So,” he continued, “you should go to bed and get some sleep.” He held out a paper sack, the kind kids used for their lunches. “There’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—strawberry jelly, like you like—a bag of chips, and a juice box in there. And there’s Gatorade in the mini fridge in your room. Make sure you eat the sandwich.” He gave me a domineering stare. “I mean it.”
I took the bag from him, our fingers brushing against each other, making my body quake with tingles and heat.
I tried to say something else, to tell him I didn’t care how tired I was, or how crazy he was. All I wanted was to be touching him, kissing him.
Loving him…
It felt so strange to even think the word
love
…
But he held up his hand as he backed away. “Really, we should just wait until tomorrow. We’ll talk then… I promise.”
And with that he was jogging up the stairs, taking the steps two and three at a time.
I stood there, in the middle of the living room, a bagged lunch in one hand, my hunger and need for him lying in a decidedly undignified heap on the floor.
I shook my head in disgust.
Boys…
I woke up, took a quick shower—thankful the dark circles under my eyes had disappeared—and headed down stairs.
I may have stopped in front of Joshua’s room, but not hearing his usual racket of music and moving around, decided he wasn’t in there.
The down stairs was vacant as well, but I found a note on the microwave.
Mom left this, so I cooked it per her orders. Eat some. I’ll be back @ 1pm.
I opened the microwave and saw mom’s famous breakfast casserole. My stomach growled its approval, so I closed the door and warmed it up.
I poured some orange juice and sat down to a steaming plate of breakfast food goodness: eggs, hash brown potatoes, cheese, sausage, and bacon.
Yum.
I had to admit, though, I was disappointed Joshua wasn’t here. If he had the dreams I’d had last night…
Well, if he had, he’d have woken me up in my bedroom, in my bed…
Not running off before I woke and leaving some food and a note.
Though the food was fantastic.
Oh, look!
My plate is empty.
And there’s six more pieces left, at least.
I got myself another helping and sat down to tuck in and eat my weight in breakfast casserole.
Joshua had to come home eventually.
Right?
No,
a wary little voice in my head said.
He really doesn’t have to.
I smiled and told that poor little voice, “But he will come back. You’ll see.”
Joshua
I was late.
I was nervous and late and I’d been driving all over town to find just the right gift.
I mean, the condoms and the strawberry flavored lubricant and the strawberry scented candles were all for Cali—she liked strawberries. But I wanted something special to give her.
I felt really stupid spending my morning driving around looking for something, and not even knowing what it was.
Especially since I’d never been a romantic kind of guy. I was always considerate and respectful to the women I’d fucked. Opened doors, been a perfect gentleman… until it was time not to be anymore.
But I’d never bought a romantic gift.
Not even once. Not for anyone.
But Cali wasn’t just anyone.
And she wasn’t really even mine.
We’d only had the one kiss... two years ago.
And that dance last night, when she rested her head on my chest.
I would have died happy, you know, with her in my arms like that.
I was so hard I was afraid I’d poke her with the damn thing.
But I hadn’t, and I’d really meant it, I wanted her fully rested before we decided to do anything more.
And
fuck, damn, shit
… I wanted to do so much more.
I found what I’d been looking for in a little boutique Suzy dragged me into a few years back. I had the clerk show it to me, and then I bought it and had her wrap it so it would open without having to tear the wrapping.
I wanted to practice opening it, to practice presenting it to her.
I shook my head and groaned.
I was such a pussy.
I finally headed home, stuck in traffic, wanting nothing more than to get home. Cali and I had a lot to sort out. We had things to talk about, and plans to make.
Scratch that. We had things to do.
Yes, that was it. We had things that needed doing.
Kissing.
Groping.
Cunnilingus.
I had to slam on the brakes because I almost rear ended a Saab.
I hunkered down and banished all thoughts of Cali and her loveliness from my mind.
If I didn’t make it home in one piece, then I would never get to do any of the naughty, naughty things I’d imagined doing to her.
***
I parked in the garage and walked toward the house. I slipped the thin, giftwrapped box into the back pocket of my jeans. I picked the basketball out of the closet nearest the side door, and then made my way to the living room.
Cali was sitting on the couch, her long legs tucked up under her as she read a book: she read for pleasure, which just seemed incongruous to me. For me, reading was only for studying. Studying was not pleasurable in the least.
The book had one of those covers they only slap on “literary classics.”
Literary classic
usually meant boring and self-important.
I cleared my throat and smiled.
Cali looked up, genuine surprise in her eyes—she’d been that engrossed in the book?
Well, no one was perfect.
I held up the basketball in my left hand. “How about we shoot some hoops?”
Her eyebrow rose—just the one. She must have practiced that move in the mirror a hundred times.
“You want to play basketball?”
“Well, yeah.” Doesn’t she remember that’s what we were doing the first time we kissed?
She lowered her book to her lap. “Playing basketball can be…
dangerous
.”
She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t scowling. And she wasn’t flirting.
“What can I say,” I popped the ball up on my index finger and spun it with expert finesse. “I like to live dangerously.”
She looked down and a little grin stretched her lips. And then she set the book down and jumped up off the couch, walking over to me.
“I have to warn you, I’ve improved since we last played,” she volunteered.
“You mean you won’t need to resort to flirting and a striptease to throw my game off?”
Cali stopped and looked up into my eyes. Her eyes were the bluest blue I’d ever seen.
“If I remember correctly, you took your shirt off first.”
“It was hot.”
“It was hot,”
she echoed in a mocking tone.
I tucked the ball under my arm and placed my free hand over my heart. “I swear to keep my shirt on… as long as you do the same.”
Cali stared into my eyes as she placed her hand on my shoulder, slowly letting it slide down my arm until the sleeve of my t-shirt ended and the skin of her hand was brushing against the flesh of my arm.
My nervous system shattered at her touch, and tingling bits of it scattered throughout my body.
I gasped as she let her hand linger on my arm. Slowly she moved her hand further down and over my bicep, the tingles following every move of her fingers.
My eyes were locked on hers as she gently took hold of the basketball and pulled it from my grasp. I was helpless to stop her, to protest, to do anything but stare at her.
She stepped back and then gave me a bright, kind of crazy Little-Miss-Perfect smile.
“I don’t think I’ll need to resort to any of that this time… do you?”
And with that she walked past me and out the side door to the driveway court.
I opened my mouth to say something, but my tongue was useless, and my voice was choked up like a teenager after his first kiss.
I shook it off, gulping down my overwhelming hunger for her, finally saying, “Ready when you are, princess.”
I saw her stop midstride, her shoulders tensing for a moment.
Well, I guess two could play at this game.
