Stepbrother Obsessed Read online

  Rox nods, “I get it. I know your dad. He wouldn’t like the beer thing. But what’s wrong with us all going to Blazing Waters? Dante is your stepbrother.”

  “But we didn’t know he was my stepbrother at the time.”

  “Oh, duh. It does sound kind of pedo, doesn’t it? Especially with the beers.”

  “Uhhh, yeah.” I say. Why did she have to say “pedo”? Now I feel dirty. The step-incest kissing is bad enough.

  She shrugs her shoulders. “Sure. Hey,” she says seriously, “You don’t mind if I go after Dante, do you?”

  “He’s not too pedo for you?”

  She grins, “He’s the good kind of pedo. But seriously. I just wanna make sure you’re cool if I try to hook up with him.”

  I am not cool with it. No way. But I’m also touched that she cares. We are besties, after all. “It’s fine,” I sigh and lie. “I mean, he’s my stepbrother, not yours.” I hope I don’t sound too possessive.

  “Just making sure. You seemed weird in the kitchen.”

  I’m not surprised she noticed. “I guess.” I don’t know why I’m making this so hard on everyone. The best thing is for me to close any doors to Dante that may have opened inside me. “He’s—” I choke for a moment, “he’s all yours.” It nauseates me to say it.

  It takes everything I have not to gag as a satisfied smile grows on Rox’s face. She starts the car and drives to my house. When we arrive, she pulls into the driveway. Dante rolls up on the left side of her car. I open my door and stick one foot out. “See you later?” In other words, don’t ask to come inside.

  “Yeah, sure. Hey, if you guys go out later, call me, okay?” she asks hopefully.

  I smile, “Of course.” I’m totally lying.

  I can’t help it. I need Dante to myself for the evening. I need to get to know my stepbrother, right? Just the two of us?

  Right.

  oOoOoOo + O+O+O+O

  The front door of my house latches behind me. I’m leaning up against the inside of it.

  Dante is grinning at me from three feet away.

  “Catarina?” I call out.

  The house is silent.

  We’re alone.

  Dante’s eyes darken with hunger. “You looked fuckin’ hot in your bikini today. I couldn’t stop staring at your ass.”

  “You couldn’t?”

  “All I wanted to do was throw you into the bushes and rip your bathing suit off so I could ram my dick into you.”

  “Oh…” My voice quavers.

  “You’re wet just thinking about it, aren’t you?”

  “No…” Yes.

  My heart is pounding in my chest. My skin sizzles with anticipation.

  Oh my god.

  I want Dante to kiss me so bad it hurts. I don’t care if he is my stepbrother.

  He saunters foward, sliding his arms out of his battered leather jacket, which falls to the floor. One of the buckles clinks in feeble protest. He pulls his T-shirt over his head, revealing his amazing body. I swear he’s better looking than he was at the water park.

  He presses me against the front door with his sculpted stomach. And his rock hard manhood, which rages against my flat stomach through his jeans. His mouth twitches and his lips curl over his teeth like he’s going to eat me right here in my parents’ house.

  “But you’re my stepbrother,” I whimper. “It’s against the rules.”

  “Fuck the rules. We’re not related by blood.”

  If he was a sexy motorcycle vampire, I would beg for him to suck my blood right now.

  I don’t have to beg because his mouth dives for my throat, which he bites gently.

  “Oh…” I moan. No boy has ever bitten my neck.

  His tongue slides up my neck and along my jaw.

  My legs give out, but with him pressing me against the door, I’m not going anywhere. He laces his fingers into mine and lifts my arms above my head, pinning them against the wood. His chest presses into my breasts. I feel his muscles grinding against my stiff nipples. Oh, gawd. This feels so good. He thrusts his hips against me. The buckle digs painfully into my stomach.

  “Ow, your belt,” I wince.

  He responds by releasing our interlaced fingers. Just when I think he’s backing off, he grabs both my wrists in one big hand and keeps them pinned up against the front door over my head. With his free hand, he yanks his buckle open and frantically unbuttons his jeans. His hot cock jumps out of the denim and he presses it against my stomach. Then he grabs a fistful of my cotton T-shirt and lifts it up until we are skin to skin. His scorching manhood burns against my stomach. I can feel it pulsing against my flesh.

  This is so wrong.

  I am losing my mind.

  He licks my neck again with savage greed before smashing his lips into mine. His tongue stabs into my mouth and forces its way past my teeth.

  I can’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him.

  His cock thrusts slowly against my tummy.

  I am drenched. My folds must be dripping wet.

  I don’t know what’s going to happen next.

  But I know what I want to happen next…

  BRRRRR!!!

  The garage door opener!!

  Dante breaks our kiss and turns to look.

  “Your mom!” I blurt.

  He growls in my ear, enraged. He doesn’t want to stop.

  “Dante! Your mom is here!”

  “Fuck!” he shouts.

  Fuck is right.

  Chapter 4

  Guilt.

  Ten tons of it weighs down in my stomach like a jagged boulder.

  GUILT.

  That’s what I’m feeling the second Catarina walks into the laundry room from the garage, her arms loaded with groceries. “Von’s was a zoo. It took forever to get everything.”

  “Let me help you,” I say, taking all the bags from her hands. I don’t want her dropping them when she sees Dante, who is in the kitchen with his shirt back on.

  “Thank you so much, sweetie.”

  Catarina is a stunning woman. Her dark wavy hair is artfully tousled. It’s so different from Dante’s surfer blond hair. But they have the same emerald eyes. She wears a colorful blouse that shows a hint of cleavage and a tight black fitted skirt and red wedges that tie in with the red streaks in her blouse. Her cherry red lips complete the look. It’s no surprise her son is as gorgeous as she is. You might think she was a snooty bitch from looking at her, but she’s not. She’s a normal person with a normal job and totally down to earth. She’s always helping me with my hair or giving me makeup tips. And we love going shopping together when we have time. I guess I became the daughter she never had when she married my dad. And she became the mom I never had, even though I did have one before she came along. My real mom was just lame. Whatever.

  Anyway, Catarina’s awesomeness makes my GUILT a hundred times worse.

  Her son, my stepbrother, gave me an orgasm back at Blazing Waters. And he just threw me up against my own front door and made out with me. With his dick out.

  “Is that everything?” I ask Catarina nervously, trying my best to act normal.

  “Yes, thank you. Oh, and why is there a motorcycle parked in our driveway?”

  “Um… there’s someone here to meet you.”

  “Who? One of your friends?”

  “Sort of. He’s in the kitchen.”

  Catarina gives me an odd look. When she steps through the doorway to the kitchen, she stops short and I bump into her back.

  “Dante?” she gasps.

  “Hey.” He sounds uncomfortable. Actually, he almost sounds guilty. It’s going around.

  “Oh my god, Dante,” she says, her voice breaking.

  I squeeze past her and set the grocery bags down on the island’s granite counter top.

  Catarina’s eyes are watering. She’s frozen in place, afraid to move.

  Dante steps toward her and stops two feet away from her.

  Neither one of them is making a move.

/>   “Is it really you?” Catarina whispers, her voice tight, looking up at her son who is much taller than her.

  He nods. “Yeah. It’s me.”

  “You’re so handsome.” She reaches up and pushes his hair out of his eyes. “You’re a man. My son…” Tears spill down her cheeks. “What happened to my little boy?”

  Dante’s eyes are watering. He sniffs, holding in his emotions.

  They still haven’t really touched each other. That two foot gap lies between them like they’re both afraid to close the distance. I don’t know why Dante and his mom became estranged seven years ago. It must’ve been serious for Dante to move out and for Catarina to let him go. I wonder if he somehow hurt her? Or his dad did something to keep her away? I can’t imagine a mother giving up on her child without some kind of drama.

  Suddenly, Dante lifts a hand and almost touches Catarina’s arm, but stops at the last second and lets his hand fall to his side. Catarina immediately steps forward and throws her arms around her son, squeezing her cheek against his chest.

  Dante awkwardly wraps his arms around her back and pats her gently.

  The floodgates open and Catarina sobs against his chest.

  I start to tear up myself. I want to join them for a group hug, but this is their moment. They deserve it. They can have all the time they need. I feel honored just to watch the silent intimacy flowing between mother and son. It’s beautiful. It’s delicate. I won’t do anything to disturb it.

  “WHO THE HELL PARKED THEIR MOTORCYCLE ON MY SIDE OF THE DRIVEWAY?!” my dad yells as he thunders through the front door.

  Great.

  Way to ruin the moment, Dad.

  oOoOoOo + O+O+O+O

  “Who’s this?” Dad demands when he sees Dante hugging my mom. He sounds suspicious. So much for first impressions.

  My dad is possessive when it comes to Catarina. I can’t blame him. He loves her. I do too.

  Dad is wearing his customary charcoal gray suit. He’s tall and has short blond hair the same color as mine and the same gray-blue eyes. Despite working as a banker in one of the skyscrapers in downtown L.A., he’s tan and in great shape from playing plenty of tennis and golf. Money has its privileges.

  “This is Dante,” Catarina says.

  Dad frowns, “Your son Dante?”

  She nods, still weepy.

  “What is he doing here?”

  Can you say gawkward?

  Dante smirks at my dad, but says nothing.

  Dad can be an embarrassment. Sometimes he’s too blunt for his own good. I guess that’s what you get with a take charge kind of guy like him. He also doesn’t like it when people get in his way or interfere with his plans. Like blocking his side of the driveway.

  “Dante came for a visit,” I offer, since no one else is saying anything.

  Dad takes a step toward him, but he’s looking at me. “A visit?”

  I can imagine my dad’s wheels turning. He’s wondering how Dante is going to mess up his schedule or what allowances he’s going to have to make. Dad’s mind is a running balance sheet of social debits and credits. He’s a “What can you do for me?” kind of guy. It’s made him successful, but it also makes him annoying at times like this.

  “Dude, chillax,” Dante says.

  Dad glares at him like he’s stupid. “What?”

  I roll my eyes. “He means relax, Dad.”

  “I know what he means,” Dad barks. He turns on Dante. “Don’t tell me to relax in my own house.”

  “Dad!”

  “Gordon,” Catarina says, stepping toward Dad, “Please calm down.”

  “If you don’t want me here, I can bail, bro,” Dante says to Dad.

  “No, don’t go,” Catarina gasps. “You just got here. Gordon, calm down.” She smooths her palm against Dad’s chest soothingly.

  Dad shakes his head, “Sorry. Dante.” He holds out a stiff arm. “Gordon Albright. Good to meet you.”

  Dante looks at Dad’s hand for a moment before shaking reluctantly. “Good to meet you… Gordon.” There’s a hint of tease when he says Dad’s name.

  Dad grimaces slightly but manages to maintain a strained smile while he pumps Dante’s arm.

  “Easy bro, don’t break it.”

  “What,” Dad challenges, “Did I hurt your arm?”

  I don’t think my dad is strong enough to hurt Dante, but don’t try telling him that.

  “I meant your arm, bro,” Dante smirks.

  “Now you two,” Catarina says, forcing a chuckle. “Do I need to send you to your rooms?”

  “Is he moving in?” Dad asks. “We didn’t talk about him moving in.”

  Dante moving in? That would be amazeballs. The guest bedroom is next to mine. We would be sharing the upstairs hall bathroom. Imagine what we could do to each other in that bathroom?

  O. M. GUILT!

  “Calm down, Gordon. I haven’t said anything about Dante moving in. But he’s welcome to stay for as long as he wants, wouldn’t you say?”

  Dad opens his mouth to argue but clamps it shut. “Of course. We would be happy to have you as our… guest, Dante.” Dad smirks at him.

  “Then show me to my room,” Dante grins.

  Dad glowers.

  I’m loving every minute of this because Dante is matching Dad point for point.

  Catarina also seems amused. “All right, enough,” she chuckles nervously while shooting covert daggers at Dad. “So, Dante, when did you arrive?”

  “Just got here today.”

  “Where were you before?” Dad asks suspiciously.

  “Long story. Maybe I’ll tell you over beers sometime.”

  Dad scowls. He probably doesn’t like Dante talking to him like an equal. Dad rarely considers anyone his equal.

  “And you’ve met Skye?” Catarina asks.

  My guilt kicks in like a mule as I remember everything Dante and I have done today since we met. “Met” is such an inadequate word for it.

  “Not officially,” Dante winks at me.

  Please do not wink at me in front of our parents!!! I want to scream it, but don’t. I think the look on my face is shouting loud enough.

  “What does that mean?” Dad demands.

  “Well, we, uh…” Dante stammers. This is the first time he’s appeared anything but unflappable in the face of my dad, which is an accomplishment in itself.

  Don’t start going all flappable on me now, Dante! No flapping! We don’t want you spilling any beans about what your cock did to my bean today!

  “He means,” I blurt, “that we never shook hands or anything.” We shook other things, shudder, but hopefully my hasty explanation will satisfy Dad’s intrusive curiosity. Dads aren’t supposed to know about their daughters’ sex lives.

  “Then you should shake hands, right?” Dad says innocently.

  Damn him and his formalities.

  Without missing a beat, Dante extends his arm to shake my hand.

  I lean over and grab it, intent on pretending this is all no big deal. Guess what? It IS a big deal. When Dante’s hand wraps around mine, electricity shoots up my arm and my whole body melts. Where did my bones go? It takes everything I have not to puddle up on the floor at Dante’s feet. I don’t know how he manages to affect me like this. I’m shaking hands with Dante and I never want to stop.

  Ach! Why is he so damn hot! Even the feel of his hand is pleasant ecstasy.

  Dad is giving me an odd look.

  guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt

  I’m supposed to be Daddy’s little girl.

  GuiltGuiltGuiltGuilt

  Still shaking hands with Dante like it’s the best thing ever. Can you have a hand orgasm? Cause I’m having one right now. Oh my goodness. I can’t breathe. Not that I deserve to after all I’ve done with Dante today! There is a special place in hell for me, right next to the other sex criminals!

  Help!!

  Dante seems not to notice my discomfort because he’s not letting go of my hand. He’s grinning with obvious satis
faction.

  “All right, that’s enough,” Dad laughs.

  GUILT!!!!!

  I yank my hand out of Dante’s.

  What have I done?

  I. Am. Hot. For. My. Stepbrother.

  I mean, just look at him!!

  But we already figured that part out when he made me come in the wave pool!

  GUILT!!!!!!!!!

  “I don’t know about all of you,” Dad says, “but I have quite the appetite today.”

  He isn’t the only one with an appetite. Oh! He means food!

  “Anyone ready for a bite to eat?” Dad finishes.

  Dante smirks at me like he wants to eat a bite of me.

  He can do all the biting he wants.

  Just not in front of our parents!!

  GUILT!! GUILT!! GUILT!!

  oOoOoOo + O+O+O+O

  We end up ordering Chinese takeout because Catarina is too flustered to cook. Dante offers to pick it up, which scores points with Dad. Dad reminds him to park his motorcycle in the street when HE comes back. Dad never quits.

  The four of us sit down at the dining room table, me across from Dante, Dad and Catarina at opposite ends. Side note: Dante is literally the hottest man who has ever sat at our dinner table. I mean, I’ve had cute guys over, but not swoon worthy Bod Gods. It’s almost like having your favorite movie star or rock star or fitness model come by for dinner. I mean, can you imagine the giddy fan-girling you would do if your dream date was at your dinner table?

  “So, Dante, are you in college?” Dad asks as he ladles Kung Pao chicken onto his plate with a serving spoon.

  “No,” he says as he takes the carton of broccoli beef from Catarina, “I skipped college.”

  “How old are you again?” Dad asks.

  “Twenty-one.”

  “What did you do after high school?”

  “I traveled.”

  “For four years?”

  “Six.”

  “Six? That doesn’t add up. You’re only 21. Did you graduate high school early?”

  “Nope. Dropped out.”

  Catarina frowns. She doesn’t know any of Dante’s history after the age of 14.