Sins of the Stepbrothers Read online

  That alone sends a shiver through my body and my muscles clench with how badly I want her. I’m so far gone – when did this happen? I thought I had myself under control …

  “Wait, please …” she whispers softly and I stop, because as badly as I have to, need to go on, I would do it all for her. I will stop, and I will listen, even if it breaks me. Because for her, I would break my own bones, again and again …

  “Emme, let me be,” I repeat my own words from the previous day. “Please. I can’t right now.”

  I can feel her frown despite the fact that I’m looking at the floor, trying hard not to glance up at her beautiful face. I can imagine her lips setting in that pout of hers, the one that always gets her what she wants. And I know full well that if I see it now, this encounter will be no different. She has me twisted around her little finger, and she doesn’t even know it …

  “Why do you try so hard to push me away?” she asks sadly, her words breaking syllable by syllable. “I know you hate me … I know you have reason to. But I tried to help you. I tried to give you money. Tried to get you an apartment. How can you be so self-righteous?”

  I finally raise my gaze, though I still have to look down at her. Emme’s tall, but I still tower over her with my 6 feet 4 inches. I survey every inch of her face, letting myself savor this moment. Her nose is like a button, small and perfect. Her skin is flawless, like she never even heard of the word puberty. Her eyes, such a deep sea green. Her hair is blonde, curled today, and falling on her shoulders in artful waves. It looks pretty, but I prefer it natural – straight with a few waves here and there. And don’t get me started on those lips, because if I look at them, I won’t be able to stop. I really fucking won’t.

  “I’m doing this to protect you,” I tell her.

  “Protect me from what?” she asks innocently, and in that moment, I want to show her so badly. I want to press her against the wall, kiss her roughly, and push my hand between her legs. I want her to know I’m not her stepbrother anymore, and I haven’t been for years in my mind – I’m a man, and I want her.

  She’s the solution, not the problem. And the game Aiden and I are playing will never work, because in the end, it will be all about Emme and the stiffness between my legs at the mere thought of her.

  I shake my head, because I don’t trust myself to answer.

  But then she steps closer, and I catch her scent, teasing me relentlessly. It’s not what I would have pictured, not what I had in mind in all of my forbidden fantasies. She’s not peaches and cream – she’s wild strawberries and champagne, melting on my tongue.

  “I won’t stop coming back,” she says, our bodies almost touching, but not quite. “I’ll be here, and I’ll wait for you. Because at the end of the day, you are and always will be my brother.”

  The frustration boils in my blood and my hands fly up, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. “I’m not your brother, Emme,” I say angrily. “We’re not blood. We’re not family.”

  I can see I’ve upset her, and it’s for all the wrong reasons. She thinks I’m telling her I don’t love her, but I do – fuck, I do. In all the wrong ways, in all the wrong places, I love Emme Ford.

  I don’t tell her that. I look into her eyes and she returns the favor, her pupils dilated, the irises reminding me of a lake we used to go to in the summer.

  She’s beautiful, she’s stunning, and she’s all that I want.

  She’s all that I’ll never have.

  And then she says something that breaks me in half.

  “I don’t really want you to be my brother,” she says very very softly, so I almost miss it. She looks down and I stare at those long, full lashes sweeping across her cheeks. I want to kiss her so badly.

  “You never were, as much as I tried to make you,” she goes on. “Aiden was my brother. You ignored me, didn’t want to spend time with me. You never, not once, called me sis, like he did.”

  She looks up at me, her eyes full of hurt and sadness.

  I want to kiss the pain away, baby.

  “I don’t need another brother,” she whispers as my stomach flips, praying for the words I want to hear. “I need … I need something else,” she murmurs, her eyes fleeting towards mine, looking for comfort, for the love she lost when our parents passed.

  I could have her in that moment. I’m sure of it. But images of our parents dance before my eyes, reminding me of one thing. She’s my sister. It’s my duty to protect her and I’ve done everything but that so far – is it fair to take advantage of her now, when she’s at her weakest?

  “What do you need, Emme?” I ask roughly, wanting her to say it.

  She’s shaking in my hands, but her eyes stay on mine, begging me for more. “I want you to make it better,” she admits. “I want the pain to go away …”

  “I’ll only make it worse,” I say, trying hard not to break. “It’s not right.”

  “I don’t know right or wrong,” she whispers. Her hands flutter to mine and her touch is soft, forbidden, and dangerous. “Teach me what I need to see,” she asks me, and I know my breaking point is here. “Show me why wrong is right this time around…”

  I exhale and I feel like it’s the first time I’ve done that in months, in years. I feel my resolve weaken, wanting her so fucking badly.

  There’s a brief moment when I have a choice. An option to do what’s right, set her straight, realize she only wants to feel comforted. That she doesn’t want me, but someone to calm her down. And I’m the worst person in the world to ask, because she’s all there is for me …

  And then the moment is gone, and I break again, reaching for her desperately, crushing her against me as she sighs eagerly.

  And she puts me back together, piece by piece.

  Chapter 9

  Our bodies are touching, and I can feel her heart beating against my chest wildly. We haven’t done it yet – haven’t done anything we shouldn’t have.

  But then she stands up on tiptoes and her lips find my cheek.

  It’s a brotherly kiss if I ever saw one, but when she moves away, I see all that she can never ask of me in her eyes. And I’m a goner.

  I grip her arms and pull her even closer, her breasts pressing against me.

  “Are you sure?” I whisper, only inches away from her beautiful face.

  Her eyelashes flutter and she nods eagerly. “Kiss me?” she asks me.

  I lean forward and my lips brush her forehead. “Kiss you here?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, and I move to her closed eyes, my lips gentle on her closed lids as she shakes in my hands. “Here?” I ask again.

  Another tentative shake of her head follows.

  I slide my lips down her face, feeling her skin with my mouth. Finally, I stop an inch from her lips, resting my lips on her cheek. “Here?” I whisper roughly, barely able to hold back.

  And she shakes her head again and whimpers against me, wanting more.

  So I do what she wants, what I’ve wanted for years.

  My lips touch hers and I feel the tension between us. Her lips are soft, rosy, plump.

  Wrong.

  I bite on her bottom lip gently and she asks for more.

  Forbidden.

  She crushes her lips against mine and pushes her little tongue in my mouth, exploring, desperate for me, wanting more.

  We shouldn’t.

  But we do.

  We kiss, and I wrap my arms around her like I’ll never let go. I ignore all the alarms inside of my head and I take her, claim her as mine. I do what I’ve always wanted to do.

  Her mouth is ice cold and mine is burning with passion. She melts into my embrace, our kiss deepening.

  “More,” she whimpers when I try to move back, her hands desperately gripping mine. “Please, I need more.”

  So I obey. I kiss her until her knees go weak and it feels like I’m the only force holding her up. And after what seems like hours, but minutes at the same time, I step back and she nearly topples over, findin
g my eyes with hers.

  “I’m …” I start apologizing, but I just can’t. I can’t say I’m sorry I did it, when all I want is more right now.

  “Don’t,” she says after my pause, her hand flying up to her face and touching her lips, swollen from my kiss. “Don’t say you’re sorry …”

  So I don’t, and we just look at each other, contemplating what we’ve done.

  Then a car honks and I quickly turn around, spotting her driver pulling into our street. When I look back at Emme, she’s tucking her hair behind her ear, refusing to look at me.

  “Emme …” I say softly, but she raises a hand in the air, not saying a thing.

  It hurts me. It hurts so bad.

  She rushes to the car, not waiting for the driver to open the door for her. As the car door slams behind her and the car drives off, I stare there, looking at it rounding the corner, feeling more confused than ever.

  Chapter 11

  I stumble back home, causing Aiden to wonder if I’m drunk when I walk through our front door. But his worries are soon forgotten as he sits me down at the kitchen table and begins telling me all about Emme.

  “I thought it was best to set the plan into motion as soon as possible,” he begins excitedly. “I invited her over as soon as you went off to work.”

  I feel a pang in my chest.

  “She fell for it!” he says excitedly, laughing like a child. I want to hurt him, imagine my hands wrapping around his neck. I’ll be damned if I let him hurt her. “She was here so fast, Blane, you would not believe it.”

  He goes on to tell me about how he made lunch for them, and how they had a nice meal, and talked about how hard it is without our parents. What a shame it is that we lost touch, when we should stick together.

  “I didn’t call her sis once,” he says proudly. “You know, wouldn’t be good for the plan we have,” he winks at me.

  This goes on and on and on.

  “And then she said she was cold, and I let her borrow my hoodie. She said she missed the smell of me,” he finishes and it hurts so fucking bad to know she said that.

  “Your plan is genius,” Aiden commends me. “I’m so glad you thought of that. I can’t wait to get what is rightfully ours. I’ve been thinking what area I want to move into later on,” he says thoughtfully, like it’s all a done deal, and finally, I’ve had enough.

  “Aiden,” I say, reminding myself to tread carefully. Once my brother is hooked on an idea, it’s hard to turn him off it. And if he thinks for one moment I’m telling him not to do it, he’ll go ahead just to spite me. “We were so drunk last night,” I chuckle.

  “Hammered,” he says with a wide grin.

  I nod. “And we had some crazy ideas, huh?” I ask.

  He nods again, tearing off a chunk of brie I bought earlier and stuffing it in his mouth.

  “I don’t know whether that idea was … my best,” I admit. He loves it when I’m wrong, so he should fall for this. Guess it’s the younger brother syndrome.

  “Brother,” he says seriously. “You’ve had some bad ideas, and done some pretty stupid stuff.” I smile weakly. “But that one?” His eyes glisten, and I know this will end badly. “That one was pure gold.”

  “Aiden …” I try again, but he’s already launched into another tirade about Emme and how she will pay for everything she did to us. It’s getting harder and harder not to punch him.

  Finally, I fake a headache – which is becoming increasingly more real – and head into my room.

  Our flat is one-bedroom, and since I’m the one paying for it, I claimed it. Aiden sleeps on the couch. I don’t think I’ve ever been more thankful to have some privacy.

  I lie on my bed and think about what I’ve done.

  But she keeps intruding on my thoughts, her name dancing before me, her full lips shaped in the letters that form my name, taunting me.

  I crack hours later, after two pain killers and a tumbler of whiskey burning my throat. I get my phone and I hold it for a long time before finally calling her number.

  It rings and rings.

  “Hello, you’ve reached the private number of Emme Ford. Please leave a message after the tone,” her soft voice informs me, the words a sharp contrast to her innocence.

  I’m thankful and upset that she didn’t answer at the same time.

  And I’m pretty sure I call again and again, just so I can listen to the sound of her voice before I fall asleep.

  Chapter 12

  She is on my mind night and day.

  If I thought it was hard to stop thinking about her then, I know it’s impossible now. I see her everywhere; still feel her touch on my sensitive skin. I touch myself, thinking it’s her hand that’s bringing me pleasure. I deal with my guilty conscience and try to ignore the hurt when she doesn’t call, all the while thankful for it – because I know she should stay away, know that we’re bad together.

  Scratch that.

  Together, we’re perfect. Her lithe body, my huge strong build. Her blonde hair, my dark crop. Her green eyes, my murky grey pair. She is light and I am dark, but together it just makes sense.

  But society says it shouldn’t. And Emme seems to agree, because she stays away.

  You know what hurts most, though?

  The fact that she doesn’t stay away from Aiden. Actually, it’s the other way around – the two spend more and more time together as the days pass. How do I know this, since I’m not in contact with Emme? Because Aiden won’t shut up about it.

  It’s all about Emme.

  Emme bought me this shirt, Emme took me to lunch to this restaurant. Emme wants to get me an opening at an art gallery; Emme gave me tickets to this concert.

  I don’t want to tell him she’s basically supporting him, because everything Aiden tells me about our stepsister involves her giving him stuff or money. You’re her bitch, I want to tell Aiden viciously.

  But I don’t, even though it’s hard to stop myself.

  And the hardest thing about this is the fact that I’m completely disconnected with my brother. He doesn’t have a clue about the kiss Emme and I shared, he doesn’t even know I’ve had a crush on her for years.

  Here’s the thing – Aiden is my twin. No matter who I’m with, he is my other half. He knows everything about me, and keeping this secret is tormenting me.

  But in my defense, Aiden is being a complete prick about the whole thing.

  He used to love Emme. I know he did. They were best friends. But now all he talks about when we’re alone is the money. He’s in it to win it – still stuck on the plan I’ve almost abandoned as a thing that belongs in the drunken past.

  Aiden is a user. He’s going to hurt her, and take the money, and I can do fuck all about it because it was my idea.

  But selfishly, I want to be the one to make Emme laugh, make her cringe, make her blush. I want to be the one who hurts her. I don’t want Aiden to have that power over me.

  ***

  Days pass.

  My mind blurs them all together. They become a mess of Aiden coming and going, his smile growing bigger each day as he spends more and more time with Emme.

  I am never once invited to come with them.

  It’s like I don’t exist.

  She doesn’t make an effort to contact me, not once.

  And the days pass slower and slower.

  Because without her, they don’t matter at all. They’re empty and dark without her smile, especially when I know my brother sees it every day.

  Aiden doesn’t fail to tell me all about their meetings.

  Did I know Emme started drinking coffee, when she hated it as a kid?

  Did he tell me Emme thinks blue looks good on him?

  Oh, and did he mention Emme bought him art supplies to last him several months?

  But the best of all, according to Aiden, will be her face when he eventually breaks up with her. Because all this is building up to a relationship, Aiden is sure of it. And viciously, he can’t wait to hurt her.
>
  It’s all my fault.

  And I can’t do shit about it.

  Chapter 13

  I don’t know how, but it just so happens that two weeks pass without me noticing. It’s strange, because they’re the longest two weeks of my fucking life.

  It’s Friday and some old friends have roped me into going out with them. I’ve been avoiding them since my kiss with Emme, when before that, we would go out at least twice every week. They call me out on it, asking if I’m bed bound with a booty call every night.

  Only I know that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  So finally, I take them up on their offer, and I decide to go to a new club with them. It’s opening night and I’m hoping to get my mind off of a few things.

  I’ve ignored Aiden almost completely, and he doesn’t even notice, he’s so wrapped up in his plan. So when I announce I’m going out, he just nods, too busy with our plan which has quickly turned into his own project.

  That night as I shrug on my leather jacket, I promise myself this night is Emme-free. I’m going out to forget, and have some fun while I do it. I put on my boots and quickly glance at the mirror.

  I hate looking at myself lately, because it feels like I’m staring at my brother, and all I picture is him talking about Emme. And it fucking hurts that while I look the same, she chose him over me.

  Shaking my head, I say goodbye to Aiden and head out the door.

  “My man!”

  I’m greeted with excited laughter and slaps on the back from my friends as we pile into a cab. It brings a smile to my face, knowing they’re here for me, and it grows when they shell out the fare, because I’m broke as hell, and they know it, but still want to hang out with me.

  We catch up in the cab, and pretty soon, we arrive at our destination. I’m already laughing when we get out of the cab, and I’m so thankful to my friends. I know that I need this and as my eyes scan the crowd of beautiful, scantily dressed women, I feel perkier immediately.

  Seth, my best friend from college, gets a round to start us off, and I down three vodka shots immediately as my friends cheer me on.