Stepbrother Studs Kevin: A Stepbrother Romance
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Authors: Selena Kitt
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MOXIE
By Selena Kitt
High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!
Evie’s hot, older stepbrother, Kevin, is a fireman and smoke jumper who won’t think twice about running into a burning building to save someone—so why does he take off and leave Evie alone?
Desperate to escape her home life, Evie takes a job as a stripper, even though her disapproving, know-it-all stepbrother thinks she’s making a reckless mistake.
When Kevin has to rescue her from a dangerous situation, Evie can’t believe her insufferable stepbrother takes yet another opportunity to make her feel like some damsel in distress who needs saving.
Evie doesn’t need him. She doesn’t need anyone. She doesn’t need her big, strong, hunky older stepbrother to literally throw her over his shoulder and carry her to safety…
Does she?
By Selena Kitt
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STEPBROTHER STUDS SERIES:
FIRST TIME WITH MY STEPBROTHER SERIES:
Stepbrother First Times: Baby’s Big Night
Stepbrother First Times: Welcome Home, Baby
“Dammit!” Evie revved her engine again but couldn’t get her Lincoln to do anything other than flash the dull red of the alternator icon at her. She fumbled for the hood latch but stopped at the last minute. It probably wouldn’t be smart to advertise her breakdown in the parking lot of the strip club. Not at 2 a.m, anyway.
She’d have to call for help. She
hated
that.
Evie stepped out, locked up, and fumbled her cell out of her jacket pocket to call her stepdad. Ned would be mad, but she couldn’t call Mom, with her three DUIs and suspended license. Her thumb hovered over the call button, but she couldn’t press it. The last time she’d had a fight with Ned, she’d stormed out yelling she didn’t need his ball-busting, his money, or him—period—and had no intention of weakening her position by calling him for a pick-up in the middle of the night. She couldn’t drag a friend out of bed either, so she made her way back inside the silent, deserted club, went over to the bar and called Kevin.
Her stepbrother’s voice rumbled, deep and grouchy, over the line. “You stranded somewhere, Evie?”
“Yeah, I’m stuck at the Gainsville Gala. My car won’t start.”
“When was the last time you took it in to be looked at?”
She gritted her teeth at his instant assumption that she’d screwed up. Unfortunately, he was right about her attitude toward car maintenance, which made his tone even more maddening.
“Three months ago,” she lied.
“Whatever. What’s your zip code?”
She reeled it off, along with the full address, just to be sure. His 4WD Ford Velociraptor was an awesome off-road ride, but relied more on the navigational powers of its driver than the half-assed satellite attached to the satnav system. Which was a little unfortunate, given Kevin’s job in search and rescue.
Feeling the side of her arm and neck prickle, she tuned out his lecture about how hard he’d kick her ass if she’d forgotten to top the coolant with antifreeze again, and followed the cold vibe across the dance floor. She was being watched by two jerks standing at the door of the men’s restroom. They’d given her the creeps earlier, trying to lean onto the strip stage and yank her skirt off before she was ready. The club boss, Ryan, stepped out of the ‘Private’ door right next to them, laughing at something one of them said and waving them to a table near the center dancing stage. It didn’t look like they were getting kicked out as over-stayers.
Evie twisted away with her cell phone, trying to look casual, and raising her voice to make it clear she wouldn’t be alone for long. “Ok, honey, thanks! I’ll be outside when you get here.”
“‘Honey’?” Kevin chuckled. “You been drinking, Evie? Anyhow—
don’t
leave the club. Joel called to invite me out to drinks. If Joel’s already at Hank’s Bar, that means there’s no security in the parking lot. I’ll be there in twenty-five minutes to give you a ride home. We’ll figure out what’s going on with your car in the morning.”
“Can I come drinking with you and Joel?”
Kevin snorted. “No way.”
“Hey, I’m two years past legal!”
“That’s not the frickin’ point! I know how you dress after shift, and I’m not spending my night off pulling guys’ hands off your tits. Sit tight.”
As the call cut off, Evie jammed the cell into the depths of her jacket pocket. She blinked moisture back from her eyes before it had a chance to get to welling stage and fanned her face a little, like it would help her to get a grip.
Asshole.
And she thought Ned had the monopoly on making her feel cheap. She was wearing Levis and a dark green top. Okay, so the top was fitted and cropped just above the belly button, but it also had a modest V-neck and three-quarter-length sleeves. Hardly slutty.
Since she wouldn’t be driving, she ordered a double Patron on the rocks and tossed it down in one gulp. Then she ordered another, ignoring the new barman’s quizzical glance. She sipped this second one, allowing the buzz from the first to catch up with her.
Evie felt that cold stare again and made a show of turning on her stool to look back at the front door, which let her see the guys at the table out of the corner of her eye. They talked quietly together, but kept staring at her.
Uncomfortable, she turned back to the bar, sipping her drink and trying to look busy with lots of texts. Her reflection in the mirrored wall above the bar optics showed a face which couldn’t go without make-up anymore. Joel and the other security guys called her Scully, and a few months back she did look a lot like a really young Gillian Andersen in the eyes, lips and top teeth. Her hair was darker though, chestnut, rather than red, and the shade accentuated her paleness from the long shifts, her lack of appetite and the insomnia-inducing brain churn she suffered whenever she started regretting.
So much to regret—walking out of her pre-vet degree in her final year; falling out with Mom and Ned, moving into an apartment that turned out to be a flea-pit…
Evie sighed. She just wanted a little lightness back in her life. She’d like to get back to a point where she and Kevin could just enjoy each other’s company again instead of fencing around each other and butting heads over her dancing job at the club. So she stripped. Big deal. It paid the bills and it wasn’t like she was whoring herself.
Totally weird that Kevin had left home to escape Ned’s constant criticism about his ‘low-pay, low-brain work’ as a paramedic and smoke jumper, but then went on to be just as critical about
her
need for independence. Without Kevin around as a buffer, she’d only lasted another six months of Ned’s corrosive pressure to come first in everything before nearly having a nervous breakdown in the exam hall over a timed paper she should’ve found easy. She’d quit her pre-vet course at Macon the next day.
She glanced around the club, but the guys from the men’s room seemed to have gone.
“Hey Evie.” Ryan slid onto a stool next to her at the bar, putting his hand at the small of her back. “Need a ride home?”
Evie checked her watch and feigned shocked surprise. “Oh crap, he’ll be outside already!” She forced a smile at the club boss, trying not to run away and look rude. He was a creep, but she needed this job. “Thanks, but my ride should be here. See you Monday night!”
Before he could answer, she’d made it halfway to the door. As she pushed out into the night, the cold air hit her hard after her two doubles. She swayed a little, then as her vision cleared again, found herself caught between the two guys who’d been staring at her inside. Her heart accelerated so fast she could feel her pulse in her wrists and behind her teeth. The guy in front gave a glittering, unfocused smile and clamped his hands over her tits.
She slapped him, but it was all she had the chance to do. The guy behind her grabbed her arms and pulled her wrists behind her back, holding her harder than handcuffs as his buddy clamped his damp hand over her mouth and nose, silencing her. He kicked her legs apart and slid his hand palm-up between them, stroking up to her fly. She screamed into his stinking, sweaty hand, but he muffled her totally as he popped her button and pushed down into her jeans, cupping her roughly. The guy behind her tipped his hard cock into the small of her back, making her feel sick. She squeezed her eyes shut against tears of revulsion and frustration. She tried kicking out, but the guy in front kicked back, sending fire flooding through her shin.
“Uh, Terry!”
The yell came from the guy behind her. She heard a grunt, and the hand in her jeans yanked out. Even the grip on her wrists loosened just a little.
She opened her eyes to see Kevin with his forearm round the neck of the guy who’d been groping her, hauling him off and making him choke. Kevin managed to drag him about ten feet away before delivering a punch into the guy’s back that knocked his legs out from under him. Her attacker lay groaning on the floor as Kevin strode towards the guy behind her. Her captor didn’t hang around to get hit. Palms out in surrender, he scuttled over to his collapsed buddy, pulled him to his feet, and scrambled awkwardly under his weight towards a blue Chrysler on the other side of the parking lot.
Kevin stood in front of her like a barrier until the car had driven out of sight, his shoulders still heaving, fists bunched. His veins—long and solid down the biceps punching out the short sleeves on his black shirt—were raised on the back of his hands. Shock and imbalance caught up with Evie, and she sank to the ground behind him, landing hard on her knees. A cold mist of sweat sprung up on her face.
Kevin hunkered down in front of her, moving her quickly so her legs were pulled out in front and then gently pushed her head down between her knees. She sagged sideways for a split second, his palm on her face the only thing keeping her from passing out altogether.
“Evie, look at me!”
She couldn’t just yet. She felt her face being taken in both his hands and looked up into frightened eyes as he tilted her back upright.
“Talk to me! Did they hurt you?”
“No… I—I’m shaking, that’s all.”
Kevin ran his hands over her, checking her head for soft spots and bones for breaks. After the frisk, he rested his forearms on his knees, exhaling slowly down to the ground. His hands shook. When he looked up, his face was hard with anger. “You scared the
crap
out of me.”
She didn’t have the energy to explain about Ryan creeping her out—there was no fight left in her. She bunched her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them as a barrier.
“Can’t you take instructions just once?” Kevin stood, flinging his hands into the air. “Why take these stupid risks for the sake of ‘living your own life’? It’s like you
want
something godawful to happen to you!”
She got to her feet, trying not to cry, just wanting to go home, drink a bottle of wine and have a bath. He’d managed to stay tender and protective for about a minute before ripping her a new one. All she wanted was for him to hold her, and he made her feel like the biggest pain in the ass, ever. He looked at her, clearly anguished, and she needed to put space between them before she broke down completely and he added emotional blackmail to her list of personality crimes.
“Evie… what’s going on with you?”
“Thanks for the rescue. If you drop me off at my place, I swear I won’t call you ag—”
“You’re coming back with me, kiddo. We need to talk.”
“I just want to go home.” She shook her head violently. No way could she handle a night of forceful home truths.
“And do what? Drink half a bottle of vodka in the shower, then pass out? No.” He clamped his arm around her back and hooked the other under her knee, then strode off towards his truck with her.
“Put me down!” Her struggles were pointless—Kevin could toss eighty-pound logs around like they were pillows. “Kevin! I don’t need anyone else giving me a hard time today!”
“What you need is a meal. You weigh about as much as damn beansprout.”
He put her down at the shotgun door of his Velociraptor, keeping an iron grip around her shoulders while he opened up. Then he lifted her under the armpits and pretty much dropped her into the seat, stepping up to push her back against the rest as he buckled her up. She put a hand up to fight him off but he closed his lightly round her wrist. To her shame, his thumb and forefinger wrapped easily just below the very prominent bone, and overlapped considerably.
“Evie…” He looked right at her and sighed. “Just don’t fight me on this one thing. Okay?”
She kept her arms folded and teeth gritted against saying something unwise all the way back to Oakwood.
* * * *
Ten minutes after getting in, she had a microwaved ‘baked’ potato in front of her loaded with beans and enough cheese to make the potato look like a grape. She gulped as he shoved the plate towards her, numbly taking the fork shoved into her hand.
“That’s… a lot of dairy.”
“You need all the calories you can get. Eat. I’m just going to wash up.”
She was left to stare furiously at her plate as Kevin stomped into his bathroom. The smell of the beans, the butter and the melting cheese got to her and she took a mouthful. Then another. She shovelled the food down until she nearly gave herself a carb rush, and couldn’t manage the last few bites. She kind of hated that Kevin knew exactly how hungry she was, like he’d known that she’d neglected her car. There was no hiding anything from him, not even her own shame at how she’d let her life slide.
Just as she was about to get up and go find him, warm hands settled on her shoulders and his thumbs rubbed gently on the back of her neck. She nearly arched her back into the touch, it felt so good.
“Feeling better?”
“A little. Thanks. You were right, I needed that.” She turned to face him.
He had a white tank and black boxers on and his light brown hair was mussed from towel-drying. His triceps stood out like stone bands beneath toned shoulders. He’d always been athletic, but now he was all-out powerful. She tried not to breathe him in too deep. It was no good suffering a relapse of the king-sized crush she’d had when he still lived at home with her—not if he just saw her as some brat he needed to take care of.
He took her hand and tugged her through to his room on the far side of the hall. “You need sleep. We’ll talk in the morning. Or, you talk and I’ll listen. Whatever. But we can’t keep biting at each other the way we’ve been doing.”
