Stepbrother Demanding (His Wicked Plan, Book 1)

STEPBROTHER DEMANDING

(HIS WICKED PLAN, BOOK #1)

By Lucy Scott

© 2015 Lucy Scott.

All rights reserved. This document may not be reproduced in any way without the expressed written consent of the author. The ideas, characters, and situations presented in this story are strictly fictional, and any unintentional likeness to real people or real situations is completely coincidental.

DYLAN

One spark was all it took.

Then everything that had been building between us for so many years exploded into flames that neither one of us had any chance of containing.

What could I do? She was my everything, hands down the most beautiful girl I'd ever laid eyes on, and I don't just mean physically. Although she’d always done things to my insides that no girl had ever done before, and I was pretty sure I'd always had the same effect on her.

But we kept it contained. We had no choice. We kept it all under lock and key.

Until that night…

Could've been some bizarre twist of fate, or maybe just a coincidence. Either way, the spark had been set that night and the flames that followed were beyond anything either one of could even come close to controlling.

So let me begin with that night- the night that turned what was supposed to be forever upside down.

Strip club, VIP room, downtown. Frequenting this sort of place was part of my gig- it came with the territory in my line of work.  I didn't need to meet women that way, far from it. I had a endless list of women, ready and willing to serve me. Just a one or two syllable text was all it ever took to send them knocking on the door of my high-rise condo.

Besides, rules were rules in these VIP rooms. Sure, there could be some light touching from the clients- maybe a quick graze on the back of some stripper’s thighs. Or even a little dirty talk from time to time. And of course the women in these rooms were known to show off their tits to lure the guests’ wallets out of their pockets. But that was it. No club owner wanted to risk losing his operating license just to get a guy off for a little extra cash. So the idea of actually going beyond just gawking in of one of these rooms was pretty much urban legend. Trust me.

But then everything changed.

She walked through that door and all bets suddenly seemed off.

Her face was covered in darkness, as was mine. I liked it that way, mainly because once some of the dancers realized who I was, or once anyone around these parts realized who I was for that matter, they freaked out, and then they always started telling me their life story hoping I'd scoop them up and rescue them from the rest of the world. I wasn't there to do that though, I was there to show my face, then punch in and punch out.

I knew instantly she wasn't like the rest of the “talent.” Just the way she moved those creamy legs and sexy hips was enough to send blood rushing to my cock. She definitely was not a natural in this sort of setting, and that was a good thing in her case.

I never got turned on in these situations, but right off the bat she made me feel things that didn't make sense. The club music made the walls shake around us, even the red velvet couch I was sitting on seemed to vibrate at a much higher frequency than usual. The darkness cast just enough shadows over most of her facial features, but the neon sign with an outline of a flashing wine bottle that hung on the darkened window showed a good enough portion of her full, pink lips. Oh fuck, those lips were something special. Yup, definitely a new girl, some chick that probably didn't know what she was getting herself into in the first place when she took this job.

I'd be flat out full of shit if I didn't admit that I wanted to feel those warm lips of hers smothering the tip of my cock, and that I wanted nothing more than to watch in awe as she lowered them down and swallowed the girth of my shaft.

But that would be like taking candy from a baby. One mention of who I was, or what I did, and she’d be at my apartment, my face buried in between her creamy thighs, my tongue exploring her juicy pussy.

Her tits were, for lack of a better choice of words, perfect. It definitely didn't hurt matters that they were covered only in a thin hot pink bikini top. My kind of tits. I liked something I could really grab a hold of, and those titties definitely satisfied my own personal criteria.

I let my eyes drift down and cross over her flat, pale-colored stomach until my gaze met the top of her bikini bottom.

I swallowed and tried to contain myself, knowing how quickly I could snap the two thin strings that held her bikini bottom in place.

Not here of course, because again, there were strict rules to be followed. Even by me.

But then again, I wouldn’t be where I am today if I followed every fucking rule that someone shoved in my face.

*   *   *

SCARLETT

This was my first night. I knew it was a bad idea to begin with and that the minute my friend Vicki talked me into signing on the dotted line for this job I’d regret it. But then again, I kind of ran out of options a long, long time ago.

Going back home tonight to my mom and stepfather Walter, moneyless and with no hope of ever getting out of there sometime in the near future, definitely wasn’t on the table anymore. Not unless I wanted to spend the rest of my life watching Walter fondle my mother’s chest in the broad daylight, right in front of me, all the while licking his disgusting lips while looking me over like he himself wanted to fuck his own stepdaughter.

No. Way.

I had to make a plan. Had to find a way out. And given that Walter put a hold on the only money I had to pay for college that was scheduled to start in less than two months, I guess you could say I was the “D” word.

Desperate
.

So here I am, a full-fledged stripper.

Well, not really. Because I was given strict orders to leave my bottom piece on under all circumstances, no matter how much money one of the VIP clients tried to throw at me.

I took a deep breath and then entered the dark room for my very first time in this calling. I walked in slowly, and at first I could barely make out the man’s shadow that was situated just several feet from my scantily clothed body.

“Come here, I need to see more,” he rasped.

I flinched immediately, only I wasn’t exactly sure why. Part of it was the way he spoke to me, like he owned me even though he didn’t even know my name and we could hardly see each other. And the other part was the sound of his voice. It was almost…

No, it couldn’t be.
I shook the thought that somehow this was someone I had known in some way. I was seventy miles from where I’d grown up, and nobody I ever went to school with had the kind of money it took to occupy this room at the thousand dollar hourly rate.

That’s a lot of cash, for anyone.

I took a step towards him, and my body shook as he spoke again. “I won’t hurt you, I just want to take a closer look,” the husky voice reassured me.

I trembled even more, but not just out of fear. As I took yet one more step closer, another ray of light that I had been standing in front of now shone from his neckline down, all the way across the entire top half of his body.

Holy. God.

He was wearing a slick grey t-shirt that hugged every contour of his upper body tightly. I gasped sharply, taking a step backwards as I looked over my very first client’s perfect features. He was lean all over, with shoulders and biceps that screamed virility, chest muscles that I found myself wanting to touch as if they were some sort of spectacle on display in a museum of human anatomy, and a set of ripped abs evident even beneath his shirt that forced my eyes downwards until they reached the metallic button that kept his expensive-looking jeans bound to his trim, V-shaped waist.

It didn’t make sense. Why would a man of this stature need to come to a place like this?

He must have serious issues
, I thought to myself. But that didn’t stop me from staring at him like a deer in headlights.

I was the one who was supposed to be putting
him
in a trance, taunting his hormones until he couldn’t breathe, then doing as instructed by club management- leaving him speechless, dazed, and with no choice but to come back for more some other lucky night.

The club owner, Adriano, gave me an unforgettable rundown of the rules of engagement with all clients. Rule number one, no hands. We could straddle their legs as we danced, but our hands were to be kept to ourselves. Rule number two, no tongues. We were allowed to whisper empty sweet nothings into their ears, but we had to keep our tongues locked away, no matter what the client’s plea was. And rule number three, our bottom was to stay on at all times. Topless was allowed in the VIP room, but that was it.

I appreciated all three of these rules, having no intentions of doing anything more than I absolutely had to in order to collect as many checks as I could and ultimately form an escape route away from my mom and Walter.

Okay, so my very first client caught me off guard. What could I do?

Recover.

I reminded myself why men like him came to places like this. They saw women as objects, toys that were theirs to play with and then throw away once they had gotten what they came for.

“This is your first time, correct?” he said.

His words threw me completely off balance. My heart raced as I took a step to the side, hoping to avoid feeling so vulnerable in his gaze. Problem was, I borrowed a pair of Vicki’s three and a half inch heels to match my outfit, if you could even call what I’m wearing an outfit. Needless to say, her large shoe size suddenly posed a major problem for me as my foot slipped out of one of the pink pumps, causing my legs to cave in like a baby doe trying to walk for the very first time.

I let out a high-pitched scream as I started to go down. Only I never made it to the hard, red-carpeted floor as the client caught me in his arm just before I crashed.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice now huskier than it had just been. He held me in his arm effortlessly, my body still suspended just inches from the floor. The feel of his hand on the soft skin of my back sent a rush of heat shooting down my spine.

I let out an audible gulp. “I don’t know.”

“Well at least you just confirmed my intuition,” he said, still hoisting me above the floor.

“What intuition?” I asked, still savoring the feeling of his warm hand on my bare skin. I never thought Vicki’s oversized death heels would end up being the best thing that ever happened to me.

He chuckled, “I knew you were a newbie at this sort of thing from the moment you walked through that door.”

I felt embarrassed and flattered at the same time. Somehow just knowing he was paying that much attention to me right off the bat was enough to send my head soaring towards the clouds. I wanted to tell him I was so much more than just a stripper, that I was an artist just trying to save up enough money to make good on my acceptance at one of the best art schools in the country. It was so odd- the fact that I suddenly wanted a man I could barely even see, let alone know anything about, to understand the real me behind this skimpy hot pink bikini and oversized set of high heels.

Then he reached his other arm around my back to finish securing me in his rapture.

I felt breathless as both of his hands were now completely wrapped around my entire body. It was like he had instantly engulfed me in his very own testosterone-filled cocoon.

But I also felt terrified, and I couldn’t stop from suddenly shaking.

His voice was now right next to my ear, so close that the warmth of his breath made the tiny little strands of peach fuzz on my ear lobe stand at attention. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now,” he whispered.

I was clearly out of my element here. No stripper would be reacting this way, not that I would know. “I can see that,” I said

“You can let go now,” he said.

“Oh shit, I mean… I…” I hadn’t even noticed that both of my hands had been clinging to this total stranger’s chiseled triceps, holding on to them for dear life.

“First night in the VIP room, and you’re already breaking the rules,” he said through the pulsating bass sounds that flooded the room from the music in the main stage area of the club.

I quickly moved my hands away from his arms like a child who had just been caught stealing from a cookie jar. Not that I wanted to move them at all, but I had no choice if I wanted to keep this job.

He set me back down on my feet, and I knew the joyride was over. He sat back on the red velvet couch, his face still covered in darkness.

“Aren’t these slightly unusual as far as circumstances go?” I asked, referring to the fact that I wouldn’t have grabbed him like that had it not been for me almost falling on my head.

“Brand new to the job, and you’re already making up excuses?” he teased.

“No, I just meant…”

He interrupted before I could finish. “Oh, you’re referring to the fact that you’re this attracted to one of the clients. Then yes, these are unusual circumstances.”

I swallowed hard, but made sure he couldn’t hear me. I hated that he knew how I felt about him, like he had some sort of read on me without me even saying or doing anything.

Or maybe that’s just how all these guys were. Rich, successful men who were used to being hit on by women of their liking whenever they were in the mood.

“I… I was just trying to get some traction,” I said nervously.

“Well you did a good job of that, you practically drew blood with your nails digging into my skin.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry sir, I…”

He cut me short, “Relax, I can’t say it didn’t come with benefits.” he said. “Probably the best thing that ever happened to me in one of these rooms.”

I shivered at the sound of his compliment, but I was also wary given where I was.

“How many of these rooms have you been in before?” I asked. I knew I crossed the line the moment the words rolled off my tongue.

But he continued to surprise me, “Doesn’t matter how many. What matters is that this is the best one.”

I wanted to melt right here. My body turned into a soft, mushy blob that could barely stand on its own two legs. Even if he was just trying to get in my pants, I didn’t care. Whatever he was doing, it was working.

“Thank you,” I said loud enough to cut through the background music.

Before I could do or say anything else, the client pulled me into his lap. I couldn’t see his face, but his lips clearly brushed up against the side of my neck, and they felt as full and warm as I could’ve imagined them feeling for a man of this physical magnitude.

This was definitely not allowed. Adriano, the club owner, would fire me on the spot if he knew I was allowing this sort of thing to be going down like this.

But I didn’t want to move. No, I
couldn’t
move.

One of his hands slid under the back of my leg and rested just below the bottom of my ass. I couldn’t help but imagine him sliding his hand underneath my bikini bottom and slipping one of his fingers inside my wet opening.

Jesus Scarlett, get a hold of yourself
, I tried to tell myself.

“You’re so welcome,” he said back to me.

I found myself wanting to reach my arm around his body, but I was able to resist the urge. I wanted to see more of him… But it was almost as if I didn’t need to. I had seen enough to know that this man was a God among men.

“I’ve never done this before,” I said.

“I can tell.”

“Have you?” I asked.

“Have I
what
?”

I shook my head, suddenly remembering why I was here in the first place. It certainly wasn’t to play the get-to-know-you game with some dark and mysterious client. It was to make money, and a lot of it. If I played my cards right, I’d make up to three hundred dollars a night. I couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity, as pathetic and shameful as it was.

I have a real chance to attend RISD, literally the best art school in the U.S. Walter, who also holds the title of being literally the most deranged and abusive stepfather in the U.S., somehow convinced my mother to transfer all the money she received from my dad’s life insurance payoff into a so called “joint” account, even though he was the only one with access to that account. In other words, I needed this job if I was to have any sort of shot at making my dream of becoming an artist a reality.

So this plan was the best I could come up with. It wasn’t much. And if anyone who knew me found out I was doing this, aside from Vicki of course, they’d choke on their own tongue. I had to be the least likely candidate to do something like this. But like I said, I was desperate, and I’d do whatever it took to catch that rabbit at this point in the race.

But what happened next was something I never could have seen coming in a thousand years. It was something that would end up turning my world completely on its axis.

“My name’s Dylan. What’s yours?”

My insides constricted and my heart started to race, only I wasn’t exactly sure why aside from a sinking feeling in my gut that told me everything in my life was about to take a serious turn.

I answered his question. “I’m Scarlett. Scarlett Jones.”

His strong, lean arms that had once made feel so safe suddenly stiffened, making me feel how I’d always thought I’d feel in a room like this. “Scarlett?” he asked. His husky tone was now replaced by something altogether different. Shock maybe?

              I stepped back, until my face was directly in front of the brightly lit neon sign. This time he could see everything. “Yes?” I replied with a mousy tone of my own, wishing I could crawl inside of myself and never come out again.

              I could see the silhouette of his head shaking from side to side with disbelief. Then he stood up and came towards me. “Scarlett, it’s me. Dylan.”

              I felt suddenly dizzy. I had no choice but to back up against the wall for extra support.