Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance (5 page)

“I can. He’s a slimeball and is as corrupt as they come.” I took the flash drive out and stuffed it back in my pocket, turning to face Carly. “And that, my dear sis, is why I have tracked you down. I need you to help me expose him for the dirt bag he truly is.”

Carly was silent for nearly a minute, appearing lost in thought. “We need to take this to the police,” she decided finally. “Tell them that you made a mistake hacking into their servers and stumbled upon the video by accident.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” I demanded. “They’re the ones covering for him. If I do that, I’m liable to be locked up and never to be heard from again. Meanwhile, the video will just disappear.” I shook my head. “No, what we need to do is get the evidence out to independent sources, that way there’s no way they’ll be able to stop it once the video starts circulating all over the internet.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Carly muttered.

“Believe it,” I said firmly. “This is no time for hysterics, Carly. The sooner you get over your shock, the better.” I pointed at her laptop. “How much traffic do you get to that news blog of yours?”

“Not much. Just enough to cover the bills here, actually.”

“What about analytics. Do you know about the type of people visiting your site and where they’re from?”

Carly shrugged. “I assume that they come for my genius reporting,” she replied jokingly. “But I have no idea.”

“Hmmm, I’ll look into that,” I murmured thoughtfully. I scratched behind my ear. “If we put this video on there, I think I could increase traffic to your site ten-fold. After that, I’m sure the video will spread like the Z-virus.”

“How do you expect to do that?” Carly demanded.

I gave her my most cocky grin. “I’m Razor, that’s how.”

Carly snorted with derision. “Please.”

“Seriously, though. Can I count on you to help me see this through?” I don’t know why her aid was so important to me, but it was.

Carly’s response wasn’t immediate, and I must admit that it stung a little. I know she was angry with me for not even a phone call, but shit, cut me some slack. My freedom was at stake here.

“I’ll do it,” she said finally, filling me with relief. “But I have a feeling I’ll regret it.” The last words she uttered under her breath but I still heard it.

I wiped at my brow. “Damn, for a moment there I thought you were going turn me in.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d never do something like that . . . even if you do deserve it.”

“You sure about that? You were going to blow me when I walked through the door.” I gave her a mischievous grin so she could catch my meaning.

Carly scowled. “In your dreams. You almost got your head blown off, though, that’s for sure.”

In my dreams
. Well she was right about that one. She most certainly
had
blown me in my dreams. On more than one occasion.

“So what now?” Carly demanded worriedly, not waiting for a reply. “Are we just going to throw the footage up on my website or are you going to . . ?”

“First,” I said rising from my seat and nodding towards her little couch. “I’m going to pass out on your sofa.” The thing looked too small to house my large muscular frame, but after nearly forty-eight hours of no sleep, even resting on a bed of rocks seemed like a good idea. “I’ve literally been running on fumes for the past two days.” I yawned, suddenly very tired. “I need a good sleep to refresh myself.”

“Okay,” Carly agreed. “I want to get this done. I’m going to be on pins and needles around here.”

“Right,” I replied drowsily as I made my way over to the couch and flopped down on my back. The fatigue that I’d been dodging for what seemed like forever was finally catching up to me.

“One last thing,” Carly said.

“Yeah?” My eyes were already closing.

“What was the victim’s name?” Her voice almost sounded like it was underneath water.

The last thing I remembered before the darkness took me was sluggishly uttering, “Ashley Collins.”

I
can’t believe
he’s lying right in front of me.

Mason’s light snores filled the cabin as he slumbered on my couch, his long legs extending off the side.

Sitting across from him, holding vigil, I watched as his flat stomach gently rose with each inhale, marveling at his body and then admiring his handsome face.

He looked like the day he’d left. Nothing had changed. Well, there were some changes. Mason had always been cut and fit, even in his teenage years, but now he seemed bigger than I remembered — more filled out. More like . . . a man.

I wanted to reach out and touch him, run my fingers along his body. It was something I always dreamt about doing. What was stopping me? He was in a deep sleep and would be none-the-wiser.

Hell, he was so exhausted I could probably even take a peak . . .

Carly!

I let out an explosive breath. I’d been seconds away from reaching out to feel him . . . to feel
it
.
Shit.
I
so
badly wanted to know if he was all talk. It was suddenly stifling hot in the cabin. I needed to cool off, to get away from the tempting image of my slumbering stepbrother.

Fanning myself, I got up from my seat and moved in the corner where I could still keep a watchful eye on him but maintain a safe distance.

As I sat there, I wondered what he’d he been up to while he was gone? Where did he go? Most importantly, why didn’t he call me?

Was he really in some kind of serious relationship?

Thinking about it filled me with anger, even though it shouldn’t have.

There’s no denying it. I was jealous then and I’m jealous now. But I need to stop and get over it. We will never be together.

I was a little annoyed at myself that I was more worried about where Mason was putting his cock, than worrying about the explosive evidence that he’d brought to my doorstep.

As a wannabe mainstream journalist, this could make my career.

Sure, I was pissed at Mason for deserting me, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Now was the time to seize the moment.

I’d made a promise to Rosemary Collins. If Ashley Collins was to have justice, I needed to help Mason bring Mayor Bradley down. Rosemary gets her justice, I jumpstart my career, and Mason stays out of jail and alive.

It was almost too much to believe. Even now, I was having trouble believing that the charismatic Mayor could have done something like that, even after seeing it with my own eyes.

And the police, they’re just as guilty covering it up.

The whole thing disgusted me. These were our public officials that were there to keep us safe and to look out for us.

I started to gain a sense of courage, of purpose. I felt like it was my duty to expose this corruption, felt honor-bound to get the truth out there — to be Mason’s sidekick in doing so gave me all the more courage to see it through.

I’m going to make sure everyone who’s involved in this pays if it’s the last thing I do
, I vowed.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be rewarded justly for my efforts. If not with a career, maybe with an eight-inch cock.

Carly!

Despite the dangers of helping expose Mayor Bradley, I knew that the potential reward outweighed the risks.

With evidence that could rock an entire city, maybe even the whole state, there wasn’t an up-and-coming journalist on earth who wouldn’t want to be in my shoes.

If we released the video on my blog, and Mason allowed me to take full credit, I’d be famous overnight. I’d finally get the recognition I deserved.

Despite the grim circumstances, I was filled with excitement. This is what journalists lived for.

I
spent
the rest of the evening doing menial tasks, sweeping the floors, cleaning the kitchen and occasionally peeking out the window for unexpected visitors while watching over Mason.

It took some effort, but I managed to keep my lustful thoughts to a minimum.

When midnight came, I was ready to crash. Mason was still snoring away, and I was getting too tired to keep watch. Besides, he had all but assured me that no one knew where he was . . . for now.

“He really is exhausted,” I murmured quietly, watching his chest rise and fall as he snored gently. Noticing goosebumps on his arms, I dug a warm blanket out of a small storage container next to the couch and placed it over him. I stepped back and eyed it critically. It didn’t cover his whole body, but it would do.

Buoyed by a sudden impulse, I bent forward and gently kissed him on the forehead. “Good night, Mason Keller,” I whispered softly.

He continued to snore unabated, and after a moment of staring at his handsome face, I went into my small bedroom, undressed, garbed myself in pajamas, and got into bed.

I laid there, waiting for sleep to take me, but it never would. My mind was on Mason, and the fact that he was in the next room over. His body looked like it was etched in stone, and I’d love to run my tongue over each and every inch of it.

I visualized what it would feel like having his powerful hands touch me and caress my curves, going down below until he . . .

Sighing softly, I slid my hands down my stomach and under the lap band of my damp panties. I was just about to touch myself when I paused.

What am I doing?

I wasn’t much of a fan of masturbation, I always felt guilty afterward, but sometimes I couldn’t help myself and desperately needed to relieve tension. Like now.

I’d be working closely with Mason for the next however long. The sexual tension inside me was was just going to continue to grow.

I might have to do this nightly
, I thought.

I started rubbing myself in a circular motion, thinking about how it would feel to have my long-lost stepbrother touch me.

“Oh Mason,” I moaned softly, knowing that after I relieved this particular itch, I’d be able to face him without wanting to jump his bones every other second. Or so I hoped.

“
C
an
you go see what’s keeping Mason?” my mother asked, walking into the dining room from the kitchen with a large tray in her hands. “We’re about to sit down with the Gardeners for dinner and I don’t want him walking in after we’ve started serving the food.”

I stopped setting dining table and scowled. “Seriously? It’s my first weekend back home, and your back to sending me to fetch Mason? Sheesh, mom. Mason’s a grown man. I’m not, and never have been, his keeper. He’ll show up when he wants to.”

And he definitely doesn’t care what neighbors you have over or who you’re trying impress,
I thought.
Mason does what he wants to do.

M
ason
, who was a few years older than me, was almost done with his master’s degree in web communications — while I was just getting started with my major in journalism at a nearby university.

When he first started college, I would only see him on weekends every now and then. He’d spend a lot of his time with me, surprisingly, giving me tips for college and instilling me with confidence for success.

I cherished those times, and hated when he had to head back to school.

But once I started college, I stopped seeing him at all. It always seemed we had conflicting schedules.

It was difficult at first, adjusting to never seeing him. What made it worse was that I found myself always daydreaming about being with him and wondering what he was up to when I should’ve been engrossed in my studies.

After a while, I got frustrated with my infatuation with him. What was the point of fantasizing about him if it could never be?

I’d go on to be a successful journalist, hopefully, and despite being the most intelligent person I know, he would probably end up slaving at some well-paying job. All the while half of his check going out as child support to the number of girls he’d gotten pregnant.

I really hoped that wasn’t how his life would end up, but he hadn’t given me cause to think otherwise.

Rumor was that he was gifted in both size and skill, and women were lined up to find out if it were true or not. I had to admit, if I wasn’t his stepsister, I’d probably have been in that line right with them.

When eventually I was forced to hear the sounds of sex from his room, I’d had enough, and confronted him about it.

“Why are you being such a manwhore?” I demanded, standing in his doorway with my hands on my hips. One of his little whores had just left giggling and bragging on her cell phone about the ‘amazing sex’ she had and it was all I could do to keep from cussing her bubbly air-headed ass out. “Don’t you know you can catch an STD from one of those skanks?”

Mason, who was shirtless, shrugged and walked over to sit down at his computer desk. “Don’t worry, Carly. I’m not stupid. I always use protection.”

I scowled. “Really? That’s your response?”

“What else do you expect me to say?”

“I hate you!” I hissed with venom. “I hate that you do it. Especially when you don’t have to.” Most of all, I hated how I cared so much. I just didn’t understand, why couldn’t Mason be with just one girl?

What am I more upset at?
I wondered.
That Mason is using
them
. . . or that he’s not using
me
?

He stared at me for a long time before he answered. There was something intense in his gaze when he looked at me, I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. “A man has his needs.”

“I have needs too,” I said tartly, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go around fucking every dick and tom in the neighborhood.”

Suddenly, Mason’s face twisted into a mask of pure fury. “I wouldn’t allow you even if that’s what you wanted to do,” he growled.

I took a step back, unprepared for the rage I saw in his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Mason rose from his seat and walked over to me. “There’s no way I would let any of the douchebags around here lay a finger on you.”

I crossed my arms and scowled at him. “You couldn’t stop me.”

He stepped closer and the heat of his body suddenly enveloped me. “Yes,” he snarled. “I could. I wouldn’t let you turn into a slut.” His expression softened and he brought a hand up to gently stroke my cheek. “You’re too good for that.”

The caress of his hand nearly made me swoon, but besides that, I was flabbergasted. Mason was telling me he could fuck whom he wanted, but I was too good to do the same?

“You’re going to do great things with your life,” he continued. “Don’t ever give yourself away to anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“And what exactly makes you think I haven’t already?” I asked. The truth was, I hadn’t, but I could if I wanted. There were plenty of guys who were attracted to me, but the truth was, I couldn’t get over my crush of Mason to even think about it.

“Because I know,” Mason replied, continuing to stroke my cheek, “besides, one day . . .”

His voice trailed off and he looked me in the eyes. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like they were watery.

I must be imagining things
, I thought.
Mason never cries.

“One day what?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

Mason dropped his hand from my cheek and turned away from me. “Nothing.”

He walked over to his computer and sat down. “You can go now. I have shit to do.”

M
om set
the pot roast she was holding down in the middle of the table and placed her hands on her hips. “Why do you always have to be so difficult?” she demanded, breaking me out of my reverie.

I nearly gagged. Me? Difficult? What planet was my mother on? “I’m not being difficult, Mother,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m just standing up for myself.” Besides, I was doing my best to avoid Mason. Out of sight, out of mind. That was my motto, and that’s how I planned to get over my crush.

I just hope seeing him today doesn’t send me back into a tailspin,
I thought.

“I asked you to go see what was keeping him. What does that have to do with standing up for yourself?” Mom demanded.

Ugh.
“Mason can do what he wants, Mom. I’m just here to enjoy myself, not play messenger for you.”

I sighed. She really wasn’t going to stop until I’d done as she asked.

“Melissa is doing great in her studies,” said Hugh Gardener as he walked into the dining room with his wife and Brian trailing him. “So good that she thinks she’ll finish a semester sooner than she thought.”

“Oh really?” asked Brian as he came around to the head of the table. It never ceased to amaze me how much Mason looked like his father. Brian could be mistaken for his older brother if not for the gray streaks in his hair and the wrinkles around his eyes. “That’s wonderful. I think the same thing will happen for Carly with her journalism pursuit. She’s such a hard worker.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Hugh said, pulling out a chair on the left side of the table and sitting down. “She’s always been a very driven young lady. I’m sure she’ll make a great journalist.” He beamed at me.

“Thank you, Mr. Gardener,” I said politely.

“Oh hi, Carly,” Anne Gardener said as if it was her first time seeing me that day, grabbing a seat next to her husband. “How have you been, dear?”

I flashed a fake smile. “Fine,” I replied. “Just setting the table for Mom.”

“Such a good girl,” Anne complimented.

My fake smile widened.

My mom beamed at our guests, giving no hint that she’d just been bitching at me just a few seconds earlier. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Thank God,” Hugh said, rubbing his stomach. “I haven’t eaten all afternoon.” He frowned. “Where’s Melissa?”

“I think she said she had to use the bathroom, dear,” Anne replied.

Anne flashed a smile at my mom. “You’ll have to forgive him, he forgets things sometimes.”

“Now, now Anne,” Hugh said. “Don’t’ go spreading rumors.”

Anne playfully tapped her husband on the arm. “You know I’m just playing.”

Hugh grunted noncommittally. “Right.”

“Carly, can you go up and see what’s keeping Mason?” asked Brian. Though he tried to hide it, I could hear the anger in his voice. Mason, with his cocky attitude and massive ego, always made sure he was the last to arrive. “I told him to be down here by now.”

I bit my tongue. I usually had the temerity to defy mom, but I often did as Brian said, especially now since he was paying my tuition.

“Okay,” I said cheerily, flashing another fake smile at the Gardeners. “Be right back!”

As I walked out of the dining room and into the hall, mom had to get the last word in.

“You should’ve done it already,” she hissed under her breath as I passed her.

I kept walking right on by, and even managed to keep the fake smile on my face. But as soon as I hit the stairs, my grin morphed into a scowl.

I should’ve never even came,
I thought sourly.
Then I wouldn’t have to be subjected to this crap.

“Mason!” I called as I reached the top of the stairs. “It’s dinner time.”

Of course I received no response.

“Mason!” I called again, moving toward his room.

When I reached his door, I was about to knock when I heard music and the sound of . . . creaking wood?

I slowly turned the knob, surprised that it was unlocked, and swung the door open.

A gasp escaped my lips. Chiseled ass, strong muscular thighs, powerful hands squeezing breasts. And Thrusting. Lots of thrusting.

“Fuck me!” Melissa cried softly as Mason pounded her from behind, her head bobbing forward with each thrust.

A torrent of emotions rolled through my body as I gaped in shock at the sight before me.

Lust. Anger. Pain.

“You piece of shit!” I yelled, my limbs suddenly shaking uncontrollably.

I knew that Mason was a whore, but to actually see it with my own two eyes filled me with rage.

He didn’t even miss a thrust as his gaze whipped around on me. I expected him to yell at me to get out, but instead he continued to pound away, gazing at me with that cocky grin of his.

His eyes seemed to say to me, “Yeah, you like it don’t you? You wish it were you.”

Or maybe it was just my subconscious mind saying that.

Melissa, it seemed, was too overwhelmed by pleasure to notice me, her teeth clamped down on one of Mason’s pillows as he railed her.

He started pounding her harder, swiveling his hips, as if to show off, all while looking right at me, the sounds of smacking flesh filling my ears.

It was more than I could take. Gasping for air, I turned and ran from the room.

Don’t cry, don’t cry,
I told myself as I raced down the hall and stopped at the staircase. My chest heaving, I struggled to quell the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.
Don’t let it bother you.
You always knew he was like that.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything he hadn’t done a million times before. I just didn’t have to witness it before.
I
knew
should’ve never came home!

I calmed myself as best I could and descended the stairs. By the time I reached the dining room, I was almost entirely composed. I even managed to put my fraudulent smile back on.

Mom looked at me like I was from Mars as I sank into my seat. “Well?”

I played stupid. “Well, what?”

Murder flashed in her eyes. “I heard you yelling from down here. Where’s Mason?”

I smiled at her so hard my face felt like it was going to crack. “Upstairs.”

She scowled, gripping her butter knife so tightly that she probably left an imprint in her palm. “Well, why isn’t he here?”

I shrugged. “Depends.”

Mom went red in the face and I swear if the Gardeners weren’t there, she would’ve leaped across the table and put the knife to my throat. She loved to put on a front, and for it to look like she didn’t have her house in order, she wouldn’t stand for it.

Gritting her teeth, she asked, “On what?”

I glanced at the Gardeners, who seemed to be hanging onto my every word. For a moment, I pondered holding back. I could just say nothing and let my mother fume silently until Mason and his newest conquest undoubtedly showed up with no one the wiser.

But I was angry. Okay — I was fucking enraged. Why should I cover for him? At this point, I didn’t care, and I’d be happy if someone else could share in the rage that I was feeling inside.

“As soon as he can pull his dick out of Melissa,” I said cheerily. “Don’t worry, at the pace he was going, it shouldn’t be too long.”

The room went eerily silent for several moments.

Anne was the one to break the silence.

“What did you just say, young lady?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I grabbed a nearby carrot and bit into it heartily. “Your supposed goody-two-shoes daughter. She’s up there bent over my asshole stepbrother’s bed. I believe the last words I heard her say when I left them was,
fuck me Mason
!” I really shouldn’t have been saying that, but my mind wasn’t right.

Anne’s face twisted in outrage, while Hugh’s eyes went wide in shock. “How dare you!”

“Carly Belle Washington,” my mother growled, her face an unhealthy shade of purple. “You apologize right this instant—”

“Sorry we’re late,” said Mason as he walked into the room with Melissa in tow. Besides the tussled hair, neither one of them gave off any indications that they’d just been fucking like rabbits. Melissa did have a huge smile on her face, though.
Bitch
.

“Melissa!” Anne said sharply.

“Hey, Mom.” Melissa grabbed a seat next to me. The nerve of her.

“Where were you?”

“Using the bathroom, like I said.”

Anne glanced at me. “Carly said you were upstairs with Mason.”

Melissa paused, her eyes briefly settling on me and then back on her mother. “I was. Mason was showing me his room.”

“Carly said you were up to more than that,” Hugh blurted. The man looked very angry. Apparently, he was having doubts about his darling daughter’s chastity.

“Okay now, we’re getting a little bit ahead of ourselves,” Brian broke in with a nervous chuckle. “It’s obvious that Carly was just playing around and I’m sure she’s ready to admit that before things get out of hand.”