PERSONAL: A Stepbrother Sports Romance Read online

  The sea breeze blew my blonde locks across his tan skin. It was us. Coiled. Together.

  “Come here, you.” He breathed me in and I felt so much tangible love in his arms, it felt like warm liquid covering my entire body. The feeling was unlike anything describable. The most comparable thing was to a never ending orgasmic love. Love.

  “I don’t care about what everyone’s saying or doing. All I care about this one person right here.”

  His fingers swirled a circle between my breasts and I wanted his touch to never leave.

  “I care about you, too.” My hand covered his as I curled up into his chest, breathing in the magic of the night.

  The moon’s light shined majestically down on us, causing the light on the dark stained wood to shine. All I could do was stare. Stare and smile and remind myself to breathe because every so often I would hold my breath, knowing that this would all go away very soon.

  You can’t live in a fairy tale forever.

  I was Cinderella and midnight was coming, when this would all disappear and to the world we would return to being stepsiblings, even if that marriage ceased to exist.

  Kate

  The smell of a sea breeze mixed with the scent of his light cologne was the best aroma to wake up to.

  This.

  Was.

  A.

  Dream.

  In this magical setting with the aqua waters glistening, it sang a musical melody to the sun in perfect harmony with the waves that served as radio frequencies casting their song far out to sea, creating an unknown ripple effect. I felt peaceful, harmonious, at home. I wanted to freeze this moment in time and remember it forever. The sound of the yacht docked, rocking gently, the warmth of the waves, the harmony of the birds, the feeling of the warmth of the morning sun. Heaven in a dream.

  He lay there sleeping with his dark lashes covering his eyes that matched the sea. I couldn’t wait for them to open again. I wondered what he dreamt of. I wondered what fantasies or problems surfaced in his mind. With both parents dead, the confession of his wanting to take the family business in a different light, he really did have a lot going on and I was glad I could be there for him. I felt almost protective of him and wanted to be his support. I never knew this type of feeling before.

  I pulled the light sheet over us and burrowed my head down into the plush pillow and sighed. I could see how romantic, luxurious backdrops such as this really played with a woman’s heartstrings. It was easy to see how the billionaires always landed the younger women. Romance, grandiose gestures, yachts, private beaches, heck, it can make you feel a lot of things. Endorphins lighting up like Time Square on a MRI, no doubt.

  But even in this logical thinking, I knew this felt different. I just wasn’t sure how this was going to pan out and I didn’t want to think about that.

  The fresh salty air reminded me to leave the worries aside and just receive the gift of paradise.

  I’d never in my life slept outside before. Well, sure, when camping, but this was something else.

  The special bug torches kept mosquitoes and bugs at bay, leaving us to enjoy the clear skies as our ceiling before falling asleep to the symphony of the stars that, I swear, twinkled so bright we heard their music.

  Or maybe it was the music of him that led to this enlightened feeling.

  I sighed again in the cozy nest.

  But there was one thing I couldn’t remove from my mind that I really needed to focus on—my defense. I was glad I was here. It was good that I came. Maybe he was right. Maybe I would nail it today feeling so relaxed and so, well, renovated from body therapy with Bradley.

  His strong arms pulled me close to his soft skin.

  “Hi love.” His soft kiss nestled into my neck. Oh, Bradley Rainshaw was a cuddle bear. Beneath this hard exterior, his thousand dollar suits, and his muscles of steel, he was a man that loved hugs and kisses, and I could just die.

  Right now.

  “I was just dreaming of you.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of finishing where we left off last night.” His hand slid down my belly and he bid me good morning, body, mind, and soul once again.

  After a few rounds of orgasms, we were both famished and ready to eat breakfast. God knows we’d worked up quite the appetite from our lovemaking!

  “Here, have some coffee. Have a baller breakfast. And then have some of this mimosa. I find when you’re tipsy, you actually say what’s on your mind.”

  “You’re right. You know, you’re right.”

  Thirty minutes later, and after refreshing myself up a bit, I felt a bit dizzy from the sudden heavy rocking from an incoming storm. I had to hold on to a beam for support.

  Bradley held up my iPad to practicing getting a convincing shot on Skype for my professors so that they wouldn’t suspect I was on a boat. Of course not, I was in a facility getting help from the traumatic week. Which was sort of true. He was helping me overcome all that stress, alright.

  But a sudden storm had rumbled in and its welcoming committee was letting us know with the heavier waves that we didn’t have much time before the entire teammate showed up. This was really messing with my plans!

  “Okay, can you, like, practice just holding the screen like that? And then when the boat rocks, lightly rock with it? Try not to make it look like I’m on a boat? Oh my gosh, this is never going to work. Never! I’m doomed!”

  “No, you’re not. We’ve got this. Look at me, you and me. A team. Okay?”

  The Skype cloud rang across my iPad, alerting me that the panel was calling. They were ready for me. “Oh my god, oh my god. Okay, okay. Wish me luck. Now or never!” My heart raced from nerves. Maybe I should have had a quick refill of a tiny bit of mimosa.

  “Kate,” he whispered. “Hurry and reposition over here. I’ll zoom in on your face to where all you’ll see is the back of the wood.”

  “What?”

  “Over there!” He quietly whispered as he shot the iPad down, capturing the wood floor before getting a close up on my face in our new location.

  “Hello Kate. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. Fine, thank you.” I nervously tucked tendrils of hair behind my ear like an obsessed cat grooming herself. “Thank you again for allowing me to do this remotely. I really am seriously super thankful and I’ll have you know that this type of leadership and compassion is the type of thing I hope to foster myself, one day when I’m a professor and am inspiring students.” Shit, I was rambling.

  There they sat all in a row like the investors on Shark Tank or a panel taking kindergarten applications at a prestigious school in a swanky neighborhood.

  “Thank you. Well, could you please begin?”

  I spoke as if I were running for President of the United States. With such passion, articulation, and yes, acting skills, I could feel the magic in the words and I just knew I was hitting a home run. I could just picture the professors arguing over who would get to mentor me. My ideas were original. I had the passion. I could be one of those students that changed the world and they could be a part of that. I felt like a pioneer.

  After making love again to celebrate, we went snorkeling, had a feast at lunch, took a nap, and then woke up for dinner. And just like that another day in paradise had passed us by like a sudden firefly dressing the festive air of a summer night.

  The sound of thunder and the crack of the lightning bolt snapped us awake. We quickly went inside the yacht as the first pitter-patter of rain fell like a soft crescendo before a downpour.

  Oh, the irony of weather.

  “Don’t worry. There’s plenty of things we can still do in here.” He winked. “Movies, games, us.”

  “Do you mind if I check my e-mail to see if my professors have commented on my oral defense?”

  “Sure. I actually need to check mine, as well.”

  And just like that, our phones turned on to the sounds of so many alerts and buzzes, texts, e-mail alerts, and voicemails an eerie chill coincided with a crack
of thunder and there was no shaking the feeling: I was doomed.

  Emily: Is there something you want to tell me?

  Lacy from Texas: Holy fuck! You are like on a yacht with BRADLEY RAINSHAW. WTF. When did you two fall in love?

  Claire: Can’t wait to see you in Paris. A little birdy told me you were getting some much needed r&r. I seriously want you to know that I think that whole idea is seriously FAB. You deserve it. I knew you would always be my sister. Wink.

  Lacy from Texas: OMG, were y’all like in love your whole life and that’s why you moved away? Why didn’t you tell me?

  Mom: How did your defense go? I would like to send a plane for you for Thursday to pick you up and meet Claire and I in Paris for the gala. I know you normally do not like to attend these things but I think as a family unit, we need to be there for Bradley now more than ever.

  Emily: Like there’s a girl that looks just like you that’s kissing Bradley. I’m assuming it IS you.

  Professor Lancaster: Hi Kate. I just would like to make sure you received the panel’s e-mail. There is no need to reply. Thank You.

  Lacy from Texas: Is his like cock as big as they say it is? I promise I won’t confirm with like USweekly or anything. Lucky bitch! Do you know how epic this makes you?

  Mom: Sweetie, I…well, I just want you to know that I know about the yacht. And Maldives. And I’m okay with it. I really am. Should I send the plane for you somewhere else then? Or, will you be coming back with Bradley?

  “Oh my god. I could throw up. Is your phone about the same thing my phone messages are about?”

  His face was frozen, too frozen. He actually looked like someone pushed pause on a DVR. Hello? Speak! How do you feel about this?

  “Bradley?”

  His lip finally twitched and his aqua eyes darkened to deep pools of water. “I’ll be right back. Stay in here.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. This was bad. My stomach was in my throat as I tapped the e-mail with my thumb, scrolling for the familiar e-mail of my professors.

  The subject matter: We know.

  Kate,

  We regret to inform you that we will not be able to supervise your studies next year. Partying it up on a yacht isn’t the academic behavior we expect from our serious students. And no, we don’t believe everything we see in the press. After reviewing the recorded Skype session, our suspicions were confirmed that you indeed were on the yacht. The rocking was undeniably there. Perhaps you should attend your graduate studies in the states where the students are more lax.

  Bradley

  My mind was racing a million miles a second. How dare that bastard go to the press?

  It felt like the longest walk down to the captain’s pit but alas I was there and he had Bob Marley playing as if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had actually just transpired. As if he was on freaking Gilligan’s Island.

  “You!” I growled as I took his white crisp collar in my fist.

  “Wha…what did I do, Mr. Rainshaw?” His hands flew off the wheel and in the air. Panic flooded in his wrinkly eyes, eyes that had seen the sea many days of his life.

  “What did you do? You broke our non-disclosure agreement. Selling our photos?”

  “What? I…” he ran a free hand through his thinning hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Mr. Rainshaw. I barely own a computer. I don’t even know what websites I would send something to?”

  “People magazine? USweekly? TMZ?”

  “I haven’t owned a television in nearly three decades. I just took a picture of that full moon last night.”

  I searched his eyes. I could normally call BS in a heartbeat. His tanned face filled with horror, and his fear conveyed that he might be telling the truth.

  “Let me see your phone.”

  “I…uh…well…okay…um.…”

  The man had an iPhone but didn’t have a lock on his phone. He had the bare minimum apps. I went to his photos and they were filled with nature and sea pictures. A few of him shirtless and smiling when he caught a fish.

  “How do you know it’s not that chef you brought?”

  “Because he’s been with my family for years. He’s seen so much shit, I knew I could trust him.”

  “Well, honestly, Mr. Rainshaw. I didn’t do what you think I did.”

  I sighed as I scrolled out of his collections and saw the little cloud in the middle: Shared.

  I scrolled through the album.

  “Who are these people?”

  “Those are just…just my family.”

  “And they see every picture I guess that you take since you’re sharing an album?”

  “They are? I didn’t…I mean, I didn’t know that,” he commented with the inflection rising like a question.

  “What do you mean you didn’t know that?”

  “I was just in over the holidays and my sister did something with my phone. I don’t understand how the cloud works. I had no idea what it even meant. All I know is I see pictures of her and my niece and nephew and now I guess like you said they see pics of me.”

  “Niece and nephew?”

  “Yes, they’re 16 and 18.”

  I glared out at the angry waves. They matched the heat I felt inside. I wanted to lay one on him but something about his primitive nature was a clear indication to me he didn’t know what the heck all this digital stuff was.

  “She got that for me for Christmas. Honest, I never go home. The sea is my home. I prefer to be out here on the waves in a simple pair of shorts, no shirt and bare feet. I know every creature and speaking of cloud, I know every type of cloud in the sky there is. But on the phone, well, I don’t get these type of things. But she insisted I have one. Full moons are my favorite. Last night’s moon was a majestic one and since my birthday’s in February, I felt it was like it was God’s sign to me of what was to come.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. This guy was really long-winded. He must miss talking to people.

  “Do you at least know how to text?”

  “I mean…yeeeeeeah?” Again he answered the statement as a question.

  All of his texts from the last few days were left unopened. The little blue circle to the left of the names was indication of that. But Jessica’s text grabbed my attention with the first two lines. I swiped at it first and fast.

  There it was. Bingo. Jessica’s text said it all.

  Jessica: Oh my GAWD, Uncle Rick! That’s like…that’s like…. Bradley Rainshaw on your boat! Kissing his former stepsister! Did you know that!? Are they your private clients for the week? OMG please send me more pics! Take more pics!

  I turned the phone around and showed him the text.

  “I uh…I mean, I guess that’s you and…shit, she’s your step sister?”

  I grumbled and sighed.

  “Former. Not anymore. Thank you. I’m…I’m sorry for startling you and crumpling your shirt. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Well, I didn’t. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled to him and left his chambers. The rain was hard against my skin. Most people hate the rain but I found it refreshing. I shook my head and peered out at the sea and the droplets that formed against the waves, trying to take a moment to gather my thoughts and focus on how to deal with this very delicate situation.

  And I don’t know why but laughter came to my throat. Bent-over, gut-wrenching laughter about the whole thing. I laughed like a crazy man until finally I came to my senses. The whole thing really was perfect. There would be no tiptoeing around about us being a couple. They did us a favor. Not a single thing would be needed from us. Maybe this PR could be spun in a good way. Because together we were a team; we were much better together than apart and I needed her. I needed Kate by my side.

  Kate.

  It wouldn’t be so funny to Kate.

  She probably was seconds from having a panic attack, if she already didn’t have one.

  One minute later…

  There she was. Fulfillin
g my suspicion, bent over hyperventilating.

  “Baby, breathe! Breathe! It’s going to be okay.”

  “No, it’s not. No, it’s not. You don’t understand. You don’t understand!” she shouted.

  “Do you have a Xanax? Something? Anything?”

  “I just took it and a glass of champagne.”

  “Come here. It’s going to be okay. Look, now we don’t have to tell people.”

  “Bradley.” Her eyes were filled with buckets of tears and her face was so puffy already from crying so hard. I felt horrible. I wanted to shelter her from all pain and only bring her pleasure and happiness.

  “Lo…lo….lo…look…look…look!” She cried out between hiccups and short breaths.

  I held her head close to my chest as I took her phone and quickly read the e-mail. Oh no. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. Guilt pained my stomach and I felt like it was my fault about the whole ordeal. But something waved its pointer finger in front of my intuition inside. I got these sometimes, these hits during times of crisis. My grandfather always told me to pay attention when an angel of inspiration is taping at your head. Sometimes crisis points the way to truth, yelling loudly, because otherwise you wouldn’t see it, hear it, or know of another option. Pain gets our attention and waves us off autopilot. It’s in crises when you take a closer look at things out of necessity or sheer stress. But stress is what makes a rock become a diamond. Stress is what causes an egg to boil. I knew I had to say something about this.

  “Babe, I’m sorry. I really am.” I sucked in a deep breath and ran my fingers through my hair. She looked so sad, as distressed as someone who loses their pet of ten years. Did this really mean that much to her? Something told me she was running from something inside. Just like she ran away to escape the pain and craziness of my family.

  “You’re not going to like to hear this. Especially now. But I am still tipsy from mimosas and I think I need to say something about this situation here.”

  “What situation? About my PHD going caput? About my dream vanishing? About being professionally known now by an entire circle of intellectuals as a flake out? A partier? A liar? A…Woody Allenish…person? Falling in love with her own family--”