PLOWED: A Stepbrother Romance (Bonus Story: Gripped) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  About This Book

  Excerpt

  Chapter 1: Haylee

  Chapter 2: Connor

  Chapter 3: Haylee

  Chapter 4: Connor

  Chapter 5: Haylee

  Chapter 6: Connor

  Chapter 7: Haylee

  Chapter 8: Connor

  Chapter 9: Haylee

  Chapter 10: Connor

  Chapter 1: Mackenzie

  Chapter 2: Mackenzie

  Chapter 3: Reid

  Chapter 4: Reid

  Chapter 5: Mackenzie

  Chapter 6: Mackenzie

  Chapter 7: Reid

  Chapter 8: Reid

  Chapter 9: Mackenzie

  Chapter 10: Mackenzie

  Chapter 11: Reid

  Chapter 12: Mackenzie

  Chapter 13: Mackenzie

  Chapter 14: Reid

  Chapter 15: Reid

  Chapter 16: Mackenzie

  Preview: Greed

  About The Author

  PLOWED: A STEPBROTHER ROMANCE

  STEPHANIE BROTHER

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  About This Book

  Excerpt

  PLOWED

  Chapter 1: Haylee

  Chapter 2: Connor

  Chapter 3: Haylee

  Chapter 4: Connor

  Chapter 5: Haylee

  Chapter 6: Connor

  Chapter 7: Haylee

  Chapter 8: Connor

  Chapter 9: Haylee

  Chapter 10: Connor

  GRIPPED

  Chapter 1: Mackenzie

  Chapter 2: Mackenzie

  Chapter 3: Reid

  Chapter 4: Reid

  Chapter 5: Mackenzie

  Chapter 6: Mackenzie

  Chapter 7: Reid

  Chapter 8: Reid

  Chapter 9: Mackenzie

  Chapter 10: Mackenzie

  Chapter 11: Reid

  Chapter 12: Mackenzie

  Chapter 13: Mackenzie

  Chapter 14: Reid

  Chapter 15: Reid

  Chapter 16: Mackenzie

  Preview: Greed

  About The Author

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016, Stephanie Brother

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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  Book cover designed by Kasmit Covers

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  Visit me on the web: www.stephaniebrother.com

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  About This Book

  Connor Grant has 'heartbreaker' written all over his handsome face.

  And I want nothing to do with him.

  He's an arrogant ass who doesn't understand the word 'no'.

  No, I don't think about him.

  No, I don't want to kiss him.

  No, I don't like it when he touches me.

  OK, so maybe those bits above aren't totally true.

  But, whatever.

  He's my stepbrother.

  And my co-worker.

  And my roommate.

  Dear god. He's everywhere!

  I don't care how hot he is, or the fiery need burning inside me whenever he so much as looks at me.

  I've been burned before and I'm a twice-shy kinda girl.

  So…us? Together?

  Never gonna happen.

  Excerpt

  “It was just dancing,” I repeat, folding my arms beneath my breasts. “I don’t get why you’re so upset about it.”

  He sets the empty glass down on the counter with a heavy thunk.

  “That was not just dancing, Haylee, and you know it.” He approaches me, his blue eyes still dark with anger. “Stop fucking around with me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I know exactly what he’s talking about. I say one thing and do another. I tell him we can’t kiss or flirt, then I basically fuck him with our clothes on in the club.

  How can I explain myself? When I saw that woman touching him, I got jealous. I wanted his undivided attention. It’s so unflattering the more I think about it. Imagine how much worse it will sound if I say it out loud.

  “Oh yeah? Then let me show you.” There’s a determined glint in his eyes and just as I’m about to respond, he circles me, standing right behind me.

  “Connor—” I step forward, but he tugs me back so I’m pressed against his front like we were in the club.

  “See, I don’t think you understand what touching you does to me, Haylee.” His mouth is level with my ear so his tantalizing voice fills my head. “Sometimes, just looking at you makes me want you so bad I think I might go crazy.”

  Dear god. If there’s a record for the fastest time a woman can get wet, I think I’ve just broken it. I can’t move. I’m gripped by his words and his honesty. I don’t think I’ve ever inspired that kind of need in a man before and that power makes me heady.

  I gasp when his mouth descends on my neck. A light trail of kisses that make me close my eyes on a shiver.

  “You’re my stepbrother.” I don’t know why I say that. Maybe it’s some part of me that still wants to come back from whatever we’re about to do.

  “Yes,” growls Connor, pulling me harder against him so I can feel his rigid length. “But I’m still going to fuck you.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Haylee

  Miley Fierce’s surround sound speakers are the shit.

  I dance to Madonna’s upbeat song blaring around the room as I wipe down the windows. Even though the song is about being hung up on some guy, the dance-pop beat gives it a much more positive vibe, feeding my energy and good mood.

  I spray the cleaning solution onto the windows in time with the beat, dancing as I smear the solution around with paper towels. When the song hits my favourite part with the thumping bass and ticking beats, I spin around, wiggling some more.

  Then my wiggle comes to a halt.

  There’s a man standing in the living room watching me.

  It’s Connor. My stepbrother.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I say, but I’m not sure he’s heard what I said. The music is pretty loud, after all. I reach for the remote and shut the music off.

  “You should have kept dancing,” he says, one corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. He regards me, his dark-blue eyes filled with mirth. “I liked the view.”

  My face grows hot. Oh god. I can’t believe he saw me dancing. I mean, I don’t think I’m terrible at it, but whenever Connor’s around he incites this intense self-awareness in me. He’s been my stepbrother for nearly a year and I still can’t get over this.

  It’s weird to accept the idea of a guy like him related to me. Why? Because he looks like someone meant to be on the covers of magazines or plastered on billboard ads. The really big ones, by the way. He’s got a face that makes your heart stop for a second, before it revs right up into overdrive. His thick head of sandy-brown hair and dark blue eyes are the icing on the cake.

  But most of all, his tall, broad-shouldered, muscular bod
y just makes the whole thing ridiculous. For Christ’s sake! They say God never gives with both hands, but I think the day the good Lord decided to hand out hotness, Connor Grant took the whole damn bucket home.

  “Why are you here?” I squeeze the damp paper towels in my hand. To say that being around Connor makes me nervous is the understatement of the year.

  He advances further into the room toward me, stepping around Miley’s beige, crocodile-leather sectional. Seriously, if a member of PETA ever came by to visit Miley Fierce’s hideaway home, they’d have an embolism.

  Connor stands in front of me. I’m tempted to inch away to maintain distance between us but I stay put.

  “Say hello to the new gardener,” he says, still smiling.

  I fold my arms beneath my breasts. “You’re joking. You’re not a gardener.”

  He shoved his hands in his jacket’s pockets and leaned forward, encroaching on my personal space.

  “That just proves how little you know about me, sis.”

  “I thought you were a…” I begin, but the words don’t come. I’ve never bothered to find out what Connor does for a living. In the nine months since our parents have been married, I’ve only seen him around a few times at the dinners our parents forced us to attend. Most of the time I make an excuse to leave early. The least amount of time I spend around my mother, the better.

  “Don’t leave me hanging,” he says. “You thought I was a…what?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I never thought about you that much.”

  “Ouch. That hurts. And I was just about to confess how many sleepless nights I’ve endured with you on my mind.”

  “Are you flirting with me?” I frown, but deep down inside, my stomach is aflutter. Holy shitballs! I need to control myself before I say or do something stupid or awkward. Which I’m prone to do when I’m super nervous. Like now. When there’s an insanely attractive guy a mere few inches away from me, smiling at me, giving me his undivided attention.

  God. His lips are sexy. Just a bit full and leaving no doubt he’d be a great kisser.

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Uhh…yeah, ‘cause you’re my stepbrother.”

  “Then it’s not bad. Maybe…taboo. And taboo’s pretty hot.” He grins and my tummy does a little dip. Wow. This guy is trouble and if he sticks around me long enough, he’ll advance to a mistake.

  I take a deep breath to clear my head.

  “If you’re the new gardener, how come Miley or Rico didn’t tell me? And how did you even get past security and into the house? You just walked right in without ringing the doorbell first?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “And I need answers to all of them.”

  He smiles. “I did ring the doorbell, but you were too busy shaking your ass to shitty music to hear it.”

  I’m instantly offended. How dare he call Madonna’s music shitty? I decide right then and there even if he’s hot as the blazing sun, I don’t like him. I also don’t like him because I hate the way the woodsy scent of his cologne makes me want to snuggle up close to his body and breathe him in for ages.

  “I wasn’t shaking my ass and the music isn’t shitty.” I turn away from him, reaching for the bottle of cleaning solution. “If you’re the new gardener, then fine, go garden. I’ve got work to do.”

  “You’re the housekeeper, right?” Has he stepped closer? It’s like his voice is even deeper and sexier now that I've turned my back to him. How the hell is that possible?

  “Yeah, so?” I tear off a new wad of paper towel and rub the cleaning solution in harder than necessary on the window.

  “Fierce’s manager—Rico—is the one who hired me. He said you’d give me a tour of the place and a copy of the keys to the cottage.”

  My hand stills against the window and I turn to look at him again.

  “The cottage? There’s nothing in there for you. Why would you need—” But I don’t bother finishing the question because the answer is already there in his smirk. I’m too shocked to listen to the voice of irritation begging me to hit him.

  “Oh, yeah, and say hello to your new roommate.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Connor

  If I had to stare at Haylee’s ass forever, I’d be a very happy man.

  Her bright red shorts show off the curve of her hips and accentuates her ass. It’s round. It’s mesmerizing. I want to grab it and squeeze it. The more I stare at it, the more I want to bend her over any available surface and wedge my dick between her ass cheeks.

  But she’s my stepsister and my co-worker. These thoughts are not only wrong but inappropriate.

  Still, though. She’s sexy as fuck and not just because of her amazing ass. Her tits are stellar too. Not big but full enough to fit in my hands. Gorgeous pink lips that make me just a bit hard every time I look at them. Curly dark hair I want to wind my fingers through and hold her in place as I gave her a good, long, hard—

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  Fuck. What was she saying again? She’s taking me on the tour of the house and it’s like every damn room has a bed in it. I would know. I keep thinking that sooner or later, I’ll have to haul her onto one of them and make her scream my name. Anyway, when Rico said Haylee would give me a tour, I’m pretty sure he meant outside. I’m the gardener. At no point would I have any need to know the layout of this behemoth house popstar princess, Miley Fierce, calls home.

  “Yes.”

  She frowns, her chocolate-brown eyes shiny with annoyance. There’s a little groove in her forehead that’s been there since I arrived. It’s like my presence disturbs her. I don’t see why. I’m an affable guy. Easy to get along with. Funny, too. Not to mention, most women tended to melt like butter the instant I stun them with my smile. It’s not narcissistic to say I’m good-looking. That’s just stating the truth.

  But it seems like Haylee is impervious to my charm. She’s been a tough cookie to crack since I’ve first encountered her. This tour is probably the longest time I’ve ever spent in her company.

  “You’re lying. You were staring at my ass.”

  She folds her hands beneath her breasts. The action stretches the material of her white v-necked shirt taut over her chest, the fleshy tops of her breasts plumper. I resist the urge to groan. She’s doing this on purpose, right? I’m pretty sure she realizes that only makes her awesome tits look even more fantastic.

  I shove my hands into my jacket pockets and lean against the door jamb. We’re standing in the entrance of yet another bedroom filled to the nines with shit I can never afford, and never want to.

  “How would you know if I’m staring at your ass? You’d have to be facing forward for me to look at it, and you wouldn’t know I’m looking at it unless you have eyes at the back of your head.”

  She frowns. Knowing I’m getting to her amuses me. She’s a new challenge I know I shouldn’t undertake, but I’m not big on self-discipline.

  “When I turned around, you were looking down.”

  “I could’ve been looking at the floor.”

  “You weren’t. You were staring at my ass the same way you’re now staring at my breasts.”

  I chuckle. “You’re blunt. I like it.”

  “You’re a pig. I don’t like it.” She steps closer, pointing a finger at me. The lemony scent of the cleaning solution she used and the softer fragrance of her perfume wafts toward me. “I know your type. Just because you’re hot you think every woman wants the honour of your…attention.” She enunciates the last word with a note of disgust. “Well I don’t appreciate it.”

  “You should. You’re gorgeous and I’m trying to deal with that.”

  Her cheeks turn pink and she opens her mouth then snaps it shut. Her reaction satisfies an inner male pride in me. At the end of the day, an honest compliment will always take you where you wanted to go. Especially with women.

  “Deal with it better, then,” she says finally. “Because this?” She gestures
in the space between the two of us. “It can never and will never happen. You’re my stepbrother.”

  “OK.” If you say so.

  “OK.” She takes a breath. “Now let’s get back to the tour.”

  “I think we should do it outside.”

  “What?” she squawks. Her face is redder now. She’s misinterpreted what I said.

  I struggle not to laugh. “The tour. We should do the tour outside. It’s where I’ll be working, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” She nods, avoiding my gaze. “Right. Let’s go outside then.”

  We head downstairs in silence and outside into California’s midday summer heat. Miley Fierce’s mansion sits on a wide spread of land surrounded by lots of trees. From since I entered the sprawling driveway, I knew I had my work cut out for me. But as Haylee guides me along the side of the house where tall hedges block out paparazzi and too-curious passersby, I am reminded of the work looming ahead.

  “Are you actually a gardener?” Haylee asks. There’s a doubtful look on her face as we survey the large sweep of unkempt grass, untrimmed bushes and weedy flowers. This place has been without the loving attention of a gardener’s touch for some time. No worries. Rico gave me the go ahead to do whatever I want. As per his instructions, I just have to ‘make it look pretty’.

  I’ll make it pretty alright. Creating beautiful gardens is an art form I’ve mastered over many years.

  I shake my head. “Do you need to see my degree in horticulture before you believe me?”

  “No,” she mumbles. “I just think it’s weird that you were hired at the same place I’m working.”

  “Life is full of weird coincidences, sis. Take that nugget of advice from your big brother.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

  “Look, I didn’t know this was where you worked. I thought your mom said you’re an artist or something.”