Billionaire Stepbrother's Offer (A Forbidden Romance) Page 2

  “Thank you, Dad.” I whispered.

  “For what, Kiddo?” he asked.

  “Thank you being such a wonderful father. Thank you for enduring her for so long. Thank you for always taking care of me. Of us,” I glanced over to Drake as Thomas pulled him into our hug.

  Within a few hours, we had new locks, new alarm codes and new keys for all of our vehicles. We also had two additional security guards along each side of the house, and strict instructions not to go outside, even to stand on the balcony, until the security team had a chance to brief Dad upon his return. I left Drake to update his father on the progress while I retreated to my room for a long, hot bath. I needed to be alone. I turned the water on and added some bubble bath. While I waited for the water to fill the tub, I chose a playlist with soft, sensual music, lit some candles and turned off the lights.

  I stripped down and sank into the water, allowing the intensity of the heat and effervescence to envelope my body. The anxiety and fear that had been building inside me since this morning’s revelation started to melt away. I closed my eyes and relaxed. Thomas would take care of me. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Even Drake… Drake.

  I let my hands glide over my body, and I imagined it was his touch on my skin. My mind flashed back to last night’s heated kiss. My palm slid between my legs, pressing hard against my mound. I imagined it was his thick bulge pushing into me as he pinned me against the wall. My finger traced over my clit, teasing it into a tight bud. I imagined it was Drake’s tongue coaxing my desire to the surface. I arched my back and rolled my hips, moaning Drake’s name, louder and louder as I savored every tingle on the way to my orgasm. At last, my climax rushed over me, sending shockwaves through my entire body as I cried his name out one last time. “Drake!” I crumpled against the edge of the bathtub, gasping with every tiny aftershock.

  “Em!” My eyes fluttered open as Drake burst through the bathroom door.

  “What the hell, Drake?!” I jerked back with a scream, covering myself.

  “Are you okay?” Drake’s eyes darted around the room. “I heard you calling me. I thought you were in trouble.”

  “Yes! I’m fine!” I pouted. “I was just…”

  “Oh,” Drake’s eyes widened as he realized what he had heard. “Em…”

  “Don’t, Drake.” I stood up. My stepbrother’s gaze fell onto my naked breasts as I stepped out of the bathtub. “You made your feelings quite clear last night. Can you just go, please?” I yanked a towel around body and tried to push past him.

  “No,” he refused, catching my arm in his hand. “I mean… I’ll go, if that’s what you really want.” His tone was softer now.

  “Is that… what you want?” I responded, suddenly unsure of myself.

  “You heard what Dad said, Em. They’re getting divorced. We won’t be siblings anymore.”

  Drake’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight. Every curve of his muscles was accentuated by the shadows dancing across the room. I let my towel drop to the floor, revealing my nude body once again. He drew me close to him with one hand, cupping the back of my neck with the other. We stood in silence, unmoving as we stared into each other’s eyes, breathing in unison.

  “I ache for you,” I whispered.

  “One step. That’s all it would take to close the distance between us and take you into my arms, into that bed. But then there’s no going back,” Drake warned. “It has to be you and me, Em. Forever.”

  “I’m ready,” I promised. “You and me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  He drew me closer, our mouths and bodies meeting in an urgent embrace. Our kisses were frenzied and needy. I yanked at his shirt, desperate to feel his bare chest against mine. He tore it over his head and stumbled out of his boxers, then lifted me up around his waist. I wrapped my legs around him, never breaking our kiss until he lay me down on the bed. He lowered himself on top of me, gazing into my eyes as he paused with the tip of his rigid cock pushing at my entrance.

  “Em?”

  “Yes, Drake. Make love to me.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he cautioned. “We should go slow.”

  “Please,” I begged. I clutched his ass and pulled him toward me as I drove my hips forward. His cock slipped past my velvet folds and sank deep into my core. I writhed as a moment of searing pain was chased by an overwhelming sense of pleasure. Drake covered my mouth with his, and I sucked his tongue into my lips as he filled me to the brim, pumping in and out of me with a smooth, unyielding rhythm until the first swells of climax crested between us. We came together, crashing into one another like a tidal wave. Breathless, we rode the wave over and over again, lost in passionate kisses until Drake finally collapsed beside me.

  “Wow,” he panted. “I’m sorry that was so fast. I couldn’t control myself.”

  “Mmm,” I moaned. “Well, I have no frame of reference, but it seemed pretty amazing to me.” I rolled onto my side and snuggled into my stepbrother’s arms.

  “You’re incredible,” he said. “Just wait until next time.”

  Drake kissed my forehead, and we drifted off to dream. Had I known there wouldn’t be a next time, I would have fought to stay awake a little longer.

  THREE

  Five Years Later

  I pursed my lips and stared into the dressing room mirror. The black sheath dress and matching suit jacket fit like a glove. An expensive, cashmere-lined calfskin glove. I knew couldn’t afford to buy new clothes, but I didn’t have anything appropriate to land a job with the most prestigious boutique law firm in Houston.

  “It’s perfect!” my best friend Brooke exclaimed.

  “I know,” I sighed. “But it’s too much.”

  “No, it’s not! This suit is a foundation piece for your professional wardrobe. It’s a classic designer and it looks fantastic on you. If you get the matching pants and pencil skirt, your options are endless!”

  I hated to admit it, but Brooke was right. As a first year law student, I was lucky to even get an interview for a summer associate position - much less one that paid as well as Waters & Gates did. Thank God my saint of a Torts professor, Dr. Gillespie, pulled some strings to get my name onto the short list. So what if I had to break out my for-emergency-use-only credit card to purchase a new suit? I only had one chance to impress the partners. And if I didn’t land the position, I wouldn’t be able to afford my law school tuition next semester. If that didn’t qualify as an emergency, I don’t know what does.

  “I guess… I can put it on my credit card. If I get the job, I’ll be able to pay it off with my first paycheck. And if I don’t…”

  “Em, my offer to loan you the money still stands. I know you’re good for it.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it. But you know I’m not comfortable borrowing money.” I hung the dress and jacket back on a hanger. “I can’t deal with feeling like I owe anyone anything.”

  “At least say you’ll borrow my nude Loubs and my Prada tote. I won’t take no for an answer. We’ll do your hair in soft curls. They’re going to take one look at you and hire you on the spot!”

  I laughed as I pulled my jeans on. “Well, I hope they at least ask me a few questions first.”

  “Psssh. Please. They’re men. All they really want is a pretty face. You can wow them with your genius after they pick their jaws up off the floor.”

  “Well, here’s hoping you’re as good with interview prep as you are with fashion.”

  We walked to the register. Just as I was about to hand over my Visa, Brooke pointed to the accessories under the glass.

  “Need jewelry?”

  “No,” I shook my head. I pressed my fingertips to the pearl pendant hanging from a delicate gold strand around my neck. “I’ll wear my pearls.”

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “Of course. How could I forget?”

  The pearl necklace and matching earrings were a gift from my brother, Drake. Well, step brother. And thank God for that, because the thoughts I had about Drake were not
the kind of thoughts a girl should have about someone she’s related to by blood. He’d given me the jewelry set as a birthday gift, the morning after we consummated our love for each other. That was five years ago, and I had worn them every day since. I couldn’t imagine going into such an important interview without that tiny bit of reassurance.

  “They just make me feel closer to him, that’s all.”

  “Closer to him? Em…” Brooke began. “Why do you insist on torturing yourself? He walked away from you. He left you with your mom, knowing how she is, and never looked back. He’s never even called to see how you were.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but found myself wandering through the dark memories of my childhood instead. Drake and I had been on the verge of such happiness. We finally saw an opportunity to be together, and we were prepared to do whatever was necessary to make that happen. But then Thomas died.

  The official cause of death was “vehicular homicide.” Investigators were able to reconstruct the accident scene to theorize that another driver ran Thomas off the road, but they never figured out who was responsible. I could never bring myself to look at the autopsy report or ask about his injuries, but it was bad enough that the funeral home insisted on a closed casket.

  With Thomas gone, I lost more than a father figure. I lost my stepbrother, too. By some miracle, Drake was able to hold himself together until after the funeral. But that evening, once Thomas’ friends and colleagues and extended family all dispersed, he came unraveled. My mother took control of the family finances, and by extension, me. I tried to be there for Drake, but it was hard to reach him through all the whiskey, women and cocaine he used to numb the pain. What I never told him was how badly I was hurting, and how much I needed him to be there for me, too.

  “Em? Are you okay?” Brooke put her hand on my shoulder. My mouth twisted into a frown as I blinked back the tears threatening to form in my eyes. I nodded to Brooke and took my shopping bags from the store clerk.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s go.” There was no use dwelling on my sadness over my long-lost stepbrother. He was gone. It was time to get over it and move on with my life.

  FOUR

  “Mr. Waters will see you now.” The secretary showed me to an expansive conference room overlooking the Houston Galleria. Preston Waters, infamous trial lawyer, was seated in an oversized leather arm chair near the window. As I approached, he stood and crossed the room to shake my hand.

  “Emily! So good to see ya!” His warm smile and rich Texas drawl were almost hypnotic. It was easy to see why he was so popular with jurors.

  “Pleasure to be here, Mr. Waters.”

  “Please, call me Preston. Sit, sit” he gestured toward the table. “Can I get getcha something to drink?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

  Preston nodded to his secretary and dismissed her with a slight wave of his hand, then sat down next to me.

  “Thanks for coming back in. As you could probably tell from the number of applicants we had, competition for this summer associate position was pretty tight. Most of the folks we interviewed have a lot more experience - law review, moot court and what have you. We normally wouldn’t even invite a 1L to interview, but Gillespie and I go way back, and I owe him a favor or two.”

  I nodded, bracing myself for the inevitable bad news.

  “Now,” Preston folded his hands in front of him on the table and softened his voice. “Despite everything you’ve got working against you, I was just impressed as all get out by your interview skills.”

  “Thank you, sir.” I swallowed hard. “I really appreciate you taking the time. I know you’re very busy. While I haven’t had the opportunity to join any extracurriculars, I…”

  “Emily,” he interrupted. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about law review. And moot court is a fuckin’ waste of time. What I need is passion, Emily. Fire. Charisma.”

  I exhaled, wiping my sweaty palms on the legs of my suit pants as he spoke. He rambled on, waxing poetic about the inequities of the justice system and a lawyer’s duty to be a voice for those who can’t speak for themselves. My mind wandered to my unpaid tuition bill, my shaky housing arrangements and my near-empty bank account. Sure, I had several million dollars just sitting in a trust fund. But Thomas never had a chance to change the trust terms before he died, so I couldn’t access any of it without my mother’s consent. She could give me hundreds of reasons for refusing to let me use my own money to pay my law school tuition, but it all came down to one thing: control. Her authority over my trust fund represented the very last ounce of power she had over me.

  That would all change when I finally got married, according to the terms of my trust. But fat chance of that happening any time soon. I was 23 years old, and had never been in a serious relationship. I’d had a few close calls, but when it came down to it, no man had ever made me feel the way I felt when I was with Drake.

  I gritted my teeth. Yeah, it may seem unfair to have to struggle financially when Thomas had left me a small fortune. But there were a lot of people in this world facing the same struggles. But nothing compared to the pain of losing my stepbrother.

  “I’d like to be the first to welcome you to Waters & Gates.” Preston flashed his big Southern grin at me, and I snapped back to reality.

  “Wait. What?”

  He pushed a piece of firm letterhead toward me. “You, Emily, are the first 1L summer associate in the history of Waters & Gates. Assuming you still want the job, of course?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.

  “Yes! Yes, absolutely! This is such an honor. Thank you!” I gushed. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

  “I’m sure I won’t. There’s somethin’ special about you, Emily Price. Follow my lead. I’m gonna to turn you into a damn good lawyer.”

  “Yes, sir.” I could hardly believe it. I got the job. After living expenses for the summer, my salary would just cover my remaining tuition for the next semester. I still had to worry about housing expenses and spring tuition, but I could cross that bridge later. If I was lucky, I’d impress the partners enough to keep me on part time during my 2L year. “When do I start?”

  Preston let out a big belly laugh. “You just did! Hope you didn’t have any plans this afternoon. For the next 8 weeks, you’re gonna eat, sleep and dream Waters & Gates. Jeannie in HR will get your paperwork all squared away later this week.” My new boss stood and walked to the conference room door. “Come this way,” he beckoned.

  He talked as we walked down the hallway.

  “You gotcha private offices for attorneys and paralegals on one side, and these open workstations for legal secretaries on the other. Restrooms are at the end of the hall, kitchen and break room right around the corner. Preston stopped and pointed to his left. “This is you right here.”

  I edged past him and pushed the door open, gasping at the enormous amount of banker’s boxes stacked wall to wall, floor to ceiling across the entire room.

  “I need you to get caught up on this oil spill case,” Preston ordered. “The other side just dropped off their discovery responses. That’s what you see in all these boxes here. And in the office next door.”

  “Do I…?”

  “Nah, don’t worry ‘bout those,” he interrupted with a wave of his hand. “We’ll get someone in here to scan it all into electronic format over the next few days. For now, just read that case summary on your desk. We have a settlement conference with defense counsel this afternoon. Swing by my office in an hour and we’ll talk strategy.”

  Preston patted me on the back and made his exit. I dropped my borrowed Prada tote on the floor and sank into my chair, overwhelmed. You can do this, I thought. Deep breaths. I flipped the case summary open to the first page and began to read.

  Exactly one hour later, I was back in the conference room, explaining my scheduling assessment to Preston and two senior associates. “So, now that the President has appointed a mediator to manage all of the oil spill claims,
we just need to prioritize them in order of severity,” I offered. “We should divide them up based on claim type – property damage, bodily injury, and economic losses – then schedule the settlement conferences in groups in order of claim value.”

  Preston nodded enthusiastically. “Good! Very good, Emily. Your ideas are right on point with our original plan. Looks like you’re gonna be a great addition to the team.”

  The receptionist peeked her head into the room. “Mr. Waters? The group from Axis Oil is in the lobby. Shall I show them in?”

  “Yeah, bring ‘em on back!”

  Ten minutes later, I was sitting directly across from the Board of Directors of the most profitable oil conglomerate in the world, as well as a handful of their lawyers. Axis Oil had immediately rejected the scheduling plan I presented, and Preston refused to budge. The resulting arguments were so loud I could barely hear myself think. Here I was, my first day at my fancy new job, and all of the mature, experienced men in the room were acting like a bunch of bratty children who didn’t want to take turns sharing their toys.

  I gasped, pushing my chair backwards as I stood. “Excuse me, gentlemen!” Their bickering was silenced, at least momentarily. “I think I have a solution to our problem. I just need a few things. I’ll be right back.”

  I rushed to my office to print a few copies of our firm calendar and the claims list. Let’s hope this works, I thought as I grabbed a handful of pencils from the cup on my desk. I breezed down the hall, skimming the claims list as I walked. Suddenly I smacked into something solid, and I was on the floor, pencils and printouts strewn around me. I looked up to see I had run straight into the wall.

  “Dammit!” I mumbled as I scrambled to my knees to pick up my things. My clumsiness will be the death of me, I thought.

  “Graceful as ever, I see.”

  I stiffened. My breathing halted as my brain struggled to make sense of what I’d just heard. I felt like an idiot kneeling there on the floor, but I couldn’t bring myself to stand and face that voice, either. I closed my eyes pressed my lips together, assessing my options. Just stand up, I thought. Stand up, and walk away. Just like he did.