My Stepbrother Rocks: Opening Act

  My Stepbrother Rocks

  Opening Act

  by Stephanie Brother

  © 2015 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 having sex are 18 or over.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One – Morgan

  Chapter Two – Alex

  Chapter Three – The Party

  Chapter Four – The Jam Session

  Chapter Five – Morgan's Exile

  Excerpt from Sins of the Stepbrothers

  More by Stephanie Brother

  About the Author

  Chapter One – Morgan

  “What the...?” My eyes pop open at the sound of a shrill slap of wood to metal. I raise up on my elbow as the clap of a high hat taps repeatedly. The strum of the bass guitar joins the drummer's beat signaling the start of band practice, my brother's garage band. It used to be once a week, maybe, but lately its been everyday since they won the battle of the bands and are set to tour as an opening act for The Arctic Monkeys next summer.

  I look down. A pool of liquid is on my latest diary entry. I giggle at the distorted ink words on the page, but they're still readable. Butterflies erupt in my stomach at the sound of Alex's voice over the microphone. I've always loved my brother's gritty vocal tone, so mature and unlike the other bands of today.

  I quickly jump off my bed, fluff my hair in the mirror and adjust my top before heading down stairs. Alex doesn't mind if I watch, but I purposely take drinks into the practice room to make it look like I have a reason for being there other than staring.

  I grab four bottles of cream soda and head into my step dad's former man cave. Ian is sitting behind the drums methodically slapping the snare and bouncing his knee as he taps the bass drum to Brendan's guitar rhythm. Randy is plucking the bass in the corner swaying to the beat looking bored. Alex is in the middle of the chorus, his hands wrapped around the microphone as he breathes the words. He glances toward me and smiles.

  I gulp hard thinking he's sexy as hell when he smiles while singing. I know its probably wrong because he's my brother, well, step brother, but I can't help crushing on him. Our parents married about four years ago and since I didn't have any siblings I had no problem calling him brother, yet now I wish he wasn't. It would make my feelings less taboo that's for sure.

  I'm frozen in his gaze as he finishes the song. I imagine he's singing to me, but know he's more than likely not since his friends may find it creepy.

  “Hey little Morgan!” Ian shouts out while hitting a symbol. It shocks me out of my trance, which kept me from noticing the song was over and I'm still in statue position.

  “Watcha got for us today?” Brendan strolls to me blocking my view of Alex. I raise my eyes to his, which are focused on my chest.

  “Uh, Cream Soda,” I stammer holding a bottle up an inch from his face. He grins sheepishly and takes it from me.

  “Hmmmm, is it as creamy as you are?” Ian coos slithering up next to me. He slides his cool glass bottle down my arm before taking a swig, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on mine.

  “Too bad you'll never know,” I smile my sweetest “fuck you asshole” smile. Why did it always seem like the oversexed creepy guy could smell a virgin the minute one walked in the room? More than baffling is why he won't give up because there is no way on this planet I'm ever giving my cherry to him. I turn and set the tray on top of a speaker deciding I'm done playing waitress.

  “Hey prick, that's my sister,” Alex slaps Ian in the back of the head.

  “Sorry, man. Didn't know she was off limits,” Ian replies looking at Alex as though he can't be serious.

  “To the likes of you she is, fucker,” the expression on my brother's face is anything but playful. The way he's defending me makes me more than proud, it makes me wonder. Not that he hasn't been protective the last few years we've lived together, but today his expression seems more, territorial.

  “Geez, take it easy bro. It's not like I'm serious,” Ian backs away heading to his set where his two band mates stand watching the scene.

  “Thanks big brother,” I smile up at Alex his blue eyes pierce my dull hazel. “But I can handle myself you know.”

  “Yeah, you're all grown up sweet sixteen,” he flashes a sideways grin. Our eyes lock for moments and I wonder if he's reading on my brain, what I've written about him in my diary. Thoughts I'm surely going to hell for, but I console myself in the fact they're only words, not actions.

  “Hey, we gonna practice or what?” Ian's irritating voice wakes us both up.

  “Uh, yeah, God knows you need the help,” Alex retorts his eyes still on mine. He reaches past me and grabs a soda. “Thanks, sis. You always know what I need.”

  I watch him take a drink, his puffy lips wrapped around the opening while his Adam's apple bobs with each swallow. I feel a tingle between my thighs and know I've got to get back to my room before it's completely obvious I've got a thing for my brother.

  “You got it rock star,” I wink and head back to my room running up the stairs at break neck speed.

  Fuck, what are you thinking? I ask myself as I flop on my bed, face in my pillow, fingers finding their way into my panties. Alex's face is all I can see as my middle finger plays between the wet lips of my vagina. Mmmm, I'm not thinking... I groan softly raising my hips and spreading my legs just enough to get my finger all the way in my puffy hole. Oh, god how I wished it were Alex's thick finger pushing higher and higher stroking my desire for him to climax. Better yet, I wish it were his warm member I was sitting on pumping slow and rhythmically like the chords he struck on his guitar. His voice echoes in my ear as I hear them start the next song.

  “How could you know what you do to me, you can't, you won't, you wouldn't ever want to know, the things you make me feel,” he coos into the mic. Shit, if he only knew what he did to me, what he made me feel.

  The feelings have only grown more intense over the past few months. I mean, I always thought he was totally cute and loved going places with him because people would assume he was my boyfriend. Even my friends at school thought so for awhile and how could they not. We don't have the same last name or look anything alike, me with my brown eyes, sandy blonde hair, round nose and plump cheeks. Him with sky blue eyes, black hair, olive skin and a roman nose to die for.

  I can't stand toying with my pussy any longer and bring myself to come as I hear Alex's voice hit a low gritty note that vibrates through my orgasm. Jesus, you've gotta write that down, I think as I breathe heavily into my pillow. I don't waste any time and jot my thoughts into my diary. It's more a poem in answer to the song he just sang. Sometimes I'm better at these short cryptic entries and find lately I've been writing them more, mostly during my brother's practices. I think it has something to do with the music and his voice, it evokes such creativity from me. Creativity, he'll never know.

  Chapter Two – Alex

  Entry – March 4 - I don't know exactly when it started, but I can't deny that I'm totally in love with my brother Alex. He's so beautiful. I'm not just talking about how fucking hot looking he is, but his soul is so pure and intense. I can hear it in the words he sin
gs, the tone of his voice, it makes my soul vibrate. If we weren't related I'd totally tell him how I felt and hope maybe he could feel the same. For this life, I'll have to be content with being his little sister, the girl who will love him in secret forever, no matter what.

  “What the hell are you doing in here? And reading my diary?” Morgan grabs her book from my hands. Shit, I'm busted.

  “Uh, hey sis. I, uh, was bringing your clothes from the dryer,” I point to the mass of crumpled clothing still in the laundry basket next to her bed. It was my go-to excuse to get me in her room.

  “Fuck my clothes! How much did you read?” Morgan's face is a bright red. Her lips are pursed and they way she's standing with her head cocked to the side, hands on her hips is so sexy.

  “Not that much, I swear,” I begin before she cuts me off.

  “Liar, I've been at the pool at least an hour and that's only the time I was awake!” she sits on her chaise lounge eying me closely, her eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah, maybe, but I swear I wasn't in here that whole time. I had to wash some crap and your laundry was taking up space in the dryer so I brought it up here and I don't know what came over me, but the diary caught my eye and I just started reading,” I'm stumbling over the words and know I can't sound half believable. She raises her eyebrows as if to say, that can't be the whole story.

  “Okay, I read enough to know you're a fucking awesome writer. The poems are amazing! I can hear the tune in my head just as you can hear the words while listening to us jam,” now that's the truth and she better believe me.

  “Thanks. You're more inspirational than you know,” Morgan's eyes have softened and she's uncrossed her arms. I sit next her on the chaise. Her swim suit cover up has fallen open enough that I can see her tender sun burned belly. I blush and turn away for a second knowing if I continue to stare I might not be able to stand up under this growing hard on.

  “I was thinking, maybe we can try a mini jam session of our own. Your lyrics, my music and see what we come up with?” If this works it will be worth patting myself on the back. Not for spying on my sister's thoughts, but for breaking down the wall between us even further.

  I've always felt drawn to Morgan, but kept my distance so as not to cross any lines. I was determined to be the big brother she deserved, walking her to school, watching her when our parents went out, even taking her to the mall for hours of shopping. Yet, I didn't mind because I couldn't ever picture any one else doing it with her, not even her bitch of a controlling mother.

  “Sure, I'd be in to trying it,” she replies coolly, but I saw the way her eyes lit up before she looked away. I imagine she doesn't want to look too enthusiastic or have me knowing she wants me as bad as I want her.

  She looks past me at the clothing in the laundry basket. Leaning forward she pulls it toward her, picking through the pile holding up tiny shirts and even tinier panties, laying them out on top of each other. I gulp at the visual of her wearing them. Oh, god I'll probably burn in hell for thinking these things about my sister. Or at least we'll burn together after what I just read in her diary.

  “Thanks Alex, but you can't leave them like this or they'll have a million wrinkles,” she smiles at me watching my face as she holds up garment after garment. Wrinkle or not, it didn't matter to me. A few times over the past few months I've found them in my clothes, dryer stow-aways I figured. I kept them a few days fantasizing about her, masturbating to her, all the while wondering how it could be possible for us to ever be together. I returned each by throwing them in the washer or dryer when she was using them, but today was different. For some reason, I just wanted to come in her room.

  “Sorry little sis,” I get up quickly knowing I can't stay soft any longer. I peek my head around the door before leaving, “How 'bout tomorrow night after dinner? Dad's sending me on some errand today that he says could have me back late.”

  “Okay, see you then,” she says shooting me a smile. I can see her plump breasts, bound by her bikini top, poking out of the cover up. God damn she's gonna be the song I can't forget.

  Chapter Three – The Party

  “Morgan are you coming down to help with the decorations?” It's my mom. I swear she's so impatient. I can bet you she's got her make-up and hair done, but apparently I don't need to as she's been bugging me for the past hour.

  “Yeah, on my way,” I shout back snapping the second cherry earring in place. Today is Alex's eighteenth birthday and I'll be damned if I don't look all the part of a cherry little sister.

  I descend the stairs to see my mom ordering the caterers around in the back yard. It's decorated like a huge stage with a real stage about half way to the back of the yard ready for my brother to give us all a taste of the set list he's performing on tour. Every table is decorated with a musical genre such as Rock, Jazz, Country complete with matching party favors including miniature banjos and guitars.

  “You are a sight to behold,” my step dad Grayson meets me on the porch, an approving grin on his face. He bows toward me as if greeting me at a ball. I like how he has always treated me like his own daughter, the one he never had.

  “Why thank you daddy,” I smile and curtsy. I never knew my father, so Grayson was easy to accept with his laid back attitude and cheerful disposition. I guess I'd be the same way if I owned a town. I'm sure he doesn't, but he pretty much answers to no one sitting on his gazillion dollars.

  “Here you go princess,” my dad hands me a carton of miniature candies shaped like musical instruments. “Put these on each table.” He winks and pinches my cheek. It makes me feel like a little girl when he does that and just a little bit self conscious of my plump face. I swear I've done everything I can think of to get high cheek bones and a sallow look, yet nothing works.

  I smile back and head to the tables careful to walk slowly as I'm wearing my new pink platforms to match the baby doll pink dress I was lucky enough to score at the vintage clothing shop. It was exactly the right amount of fluff and lace and makes me feel so girly.

  “Jesus, Morgan, you didn't get this dressed up even for your own birthday,” my mom is inspecting me as I lean over the table dumping candy next to the drum shaped cups. “I can almost see your ass, young lady.”

  “Mom, please. It's not like I'm going to be leaning over the entire day,” I shoot back. It's not my fault she's not comfortable enough in her own skin to wear something other than a mu-mu. Although, she does remind me of a glamorous Bette Davis.

  “The pumps even? Well, I guess it's better than your usual butt-bearing shorts and half shirt,” she replies. I swear she is so irritating.

  “I guess I'll take that as a compliment,” I shoot her a look and move toward the next table.

  “You're awfully sassy. Lose it or you can forget about going out to the island with us next week,” her eyebrows are creased as she looks me intently in the eyes before walking away.

  Like I give a shit about going to the island with them. It's a claustrophobic plane ride to a secluded island that has nothing on it but our three story bungalow. I only go because it gives me lots of one-on-one time with Alex. Snorkeling, fishing and riding the wave runners are our main activities with him getting more tan while I sunburn to a bright red. Last month we started learning how to kite surf, which, not surprisingly, I suck at as well.

  “Okay everyone, he's here!” my step dad yells from the porch upstairs. I leave my box of candy on the table and gather with the group of seventy attendees.

  “Surprise!” we yell as Alex walks through the sliding glass doors onto the porch. He grabs his head in surprise, a huge smile on his face.

  “You guys are crazy! Thank you!” he holds his arms out toward us then starts clapping. My dad hands him a beer and raises his to the crowd.

  “Let's hear it for eighteen!” The catering staff has weaved through all of us passing out glasses of champagne and bottles of beer. I steal a glass and toss a look toward my mom to make she didn't see me.

  “To eighteen!” We al
l hold our drinks up, then break out in a round of the birthday song. Alex's smile is as big as any I've ever seen, but when his eyes finally find me, I swear to god it doubles in size. I feel a flush rise to my cheeks as his gaze stays on me. My god if people only knew what I was thinking, feeling, wishing right now. I'd be burned to the red of his leather jacket.

  My dad leads him down the porch to the main table where all of the food is spread out buffet style. We all pile in line and pile on the food. I look around wondering where to sit when I hear my name. It's Alex waving me to his table.

  “Hey big brother. Happy birthday,” I give him a one handed hug before sitting down. Unfortunately, almost in unison, my mom and dad sit opposite us. I sigh looking at my mom who's got this huge fake smile on her face.

  “Alex it's so wonderful that you're eighteen and finally on the move,” she smiles while taking a bite of her salad. What the hell did she mean by that? I can only guess she can't wait until he's out of the house. No more loud garage band hanging out here. I glance at Alex, who looks almost as confused as me.

  “Well, not exactly on the move yet, but soon,” he replies taking a bite of the biggest burger I've ever seen. Juice drips down his chin and I wish I could clean it off with my tongue, but instead tell him, “You've got liquid fat running down your face.”

  He laughs and catches it with the back of his hand, which he promptly wipes on his pants. I giggle watching this kid turn into a man in one day, yet I'm sure there's no switch that turns on the manners of a man.

  “Is this seat taken?” A familiar voice is pulling the chair out on the right side of me. I turn to see Grant, my older brother. It shocks me because, honestly, I can count on one hand how often I've seen him in the past three years.

  I shake my head no while chewing through a bite of carrot. He settles himself and smiles broadly into my face, “Hey baby tiger.”