Stepbrother: Forbidden Cravings: Stepbrother Romance Boxed Set (3 page)

STEPBROTHER

Caressed

 

Stephanie Books

 

 

 

 Copyright 2015 by Stephanie Books

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced

in any way whatsoever, without written permission

from the author, except in case of brief

quotations embodied in critical reviews

and articles.

 

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any

person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First edition, 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

She woke up that morning rather flustered.
This is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong,
and pressed her palms against her eyes in frustration. But Kelly Grissom couldn’t fight her desires.

Although the face was blurry, half-remembered in a day-break delirium, she couldn’t deny the name of the man who was on top of her in her dreams; and had been ever since he moved back into the Torvald home, exactly two weeks prior. 

To make matters worse, she could actually hear him through the window. Though the words were unclear, she recognized his brave, baritone voice. He played soccer with his father every Sunday morning.

Kelly didn’t dare peak out the window; besides, she had to clean up a bit, especially change her sheets. Up until she met Ethan Torvald, she never once had a wet dream.

She found it strange, but by 21 she accepted chastity as part of her life. But that was shaken.

Then she heard the thud of someone coming up the stairs, “Kelly! Are ya still in bed, it’s nearin’ afternoon,” a strong, feminine voice wailed through the door.

“I just have to shower and get dressed, mother.”

“Well get dressed, I want us to have breakfast as a family this mornin’. We’re gonna to need to have a little family meetin’.”

Kelly’s ears flared, and the nape of her neck grew hot,
what could it be?

A family meeting?

As if it could be about the sheets, but after a second she calmed, and said, “I hear ya, I’ll be down in 30.”

She knew for sure that she couldn’t tell anyone how she felt.

“I want to see that butt in a dining room chair in 20 minutes. And I won’t take your I-got-lost
excuse this time, you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, yes mother.”
She can go on and on
.

Kelly then went to her bathroom, which was connected to her bedroom.

The large mirror on the wall reflected a thin, cat-eyed woman. Skin pale, but she started tanning out by the pool to fix that; and recently her high school acne had completely cleared up.

I don’t know
, she postulated, ever since she moved out to Heritage Estates, it felt like a massive weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, and maybe because of that, she was holding her head a little higher.

But there’s nothing wrong with who I was
, she corrected as she flaunted in front of the mirror. Most of her days had been spent hidden behind books and essays and AP classes. Finally, she was beginning to bloom.

She showered, dried off, then got into a short sundress. Looking at the bottle of Mademoiselle by the sink, which was old and full, she contemplated giving herself a little spray--she did, the perfume inducing a warm trance.

The final piece: she grabbed a lacy necklace from her dresser. It bore an owl shaped medallion that fell to the cleavage of her milky white breasts. As though on cue, she heard her mom call out to the front patio, calling the men inside for breakfast. 

Kelly left and walked downstairs, towards the dining hall. The house was catastrophically huge from the outside, a labyrinth inside.

When she got there, he was sitting in the chair closest to his father. Beads of sweat--plump from the games they had played--began crawling from his neck, down and lost under his shirt.

I should get used to calling him my stepdad
she considered, then looked back to her step-brother, who was talking to his father about the game.

He was cocky, cool, yet carried himself humbly, speaking in the softest voice and finished every request with please, every favor with thank you.

He was handsome, broad shouldered and olive-tanned. His strong torso was diffused by a relaxed countenance. The only thing that Kelly thought feminine about him were his honey eyes, their lashes long and curled at the tips.

She hadn’t said much to him in the two weeks since he returned. Even when they sat down for breakfast, she seldom said anything that didn’t relate to the passing of food across the table. Kelly was considerably quiet.

Bill, who insisted that she call him
Bill
, rather than William, never pestered her about being quiet. It was her mother that pressed when Kelly passed on the subtle, hidden invitations to join the conversation.

“What about you Kelly” Bill began.

She couldn’t bear looking up, she could feel Ethan’s gaze, “Interested in any sports?”

“Hmm, I’d honestly have to say no to that Willi--”

“Bill, Bill! Just call me Bill baby doll, what do you like to do then?”

“Not much.”

“Hmm, not much.”

He repeated after her, waiting a moment, as though she were going to say more. She didn’t. She was more nervous than any of them could imagine.

“Well what about you Katherine.”

“Me? Sports?”

“...You know we just had these chandeliers,” Bill said to Kelly, but after no response, her mother Katherine picked up the conversation. 

And then they carried on like that for a while, talking about the house. Katherine nodding at him to continue, not really understanding a clue of what he was talking about.

Ethan excused himself silently, saying he had to make a few phone calls with a swift gesture of his hand, then walked over and kissed Katherine on the cheek, thanked her for the breakfast, and went upstairs.

Kelly felt somewhat relieved.

She observed this odd couple for a bit. They interacted like two strange, symbiotic creatures. So unlike each other.

Bill was as a travel salesman from Bath, west Virginia, who made it big on a few contracts early in his career, and has been riding on his success ever since, so the stories went.

Kelly’s mother Katherine, was from Jacksonville, the “heartland” of Florida, so they called it, despite the fact that it was one of the poorer regions in the state. They met at a restaurant that Katherine busted tables at on south beach, and then the rest was history.

Even the way they conversed was completely backwards, with Bill’s northern fast-talk, and her mother’s slow southern drawls.

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Two different
species
and still they are together, Kelly thought. She wondered for a moment, but soon shut out the thought--but the sentiment still lingered, that maybe she could have the same with Ethan, even though they were completely different, maybe she--no.

I mean, we are two different species. So weren't not related at all. But still, no.
She doesn’t want to reason it out.

But she couldn’t see Ethan in a simple way. It wasn’t that he was just gorgeous, though he was, there was more.

In the first three days he moved back, she decided what her impression of him would be: he’s a dull, arrogant, know-it-all smart alec who bides his time between playing soccer shirtless in their front yard, lifting weights, and going clubbing at night.

Although her speculations were close, it only took a few more days of living with him before she heard his music.

Is that when it was? When I finally came to
--she didn’t want to think of it, especially as she sat there in front of her mother and Bill--but when she finally came to
want
Ethan?

She was both stressed and relieved to admit it, but she reasoned it away with a simple sentence, which would soon become meaningless:
but he’s my stepbrother.

“Well, where the hell did Ethan go? I swear, that boy doesn’t stay still for minute.”

Katherine suddenly spoke.

“Well listen...” Bill reached for Katherine's forearm, rubbing it softly to tell her to keep her cool.

“Well,” she began in a slow, delightful drawl, “We...umm, Bill and I, need a little vacation.”

“Oh don’t smile like that girl, we’re leaving Edna behind.” The housemaid.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Bill began immediately after, “we just don’t want to put her out of work. You understand.”

“Yeah, and we don’t want to hear about any parties going on, either,” Katherine followed up.

“Mom,” Kelly laughed slightly, “me, party? Did you forget who you’re talking to?”

“Oh my little angel, not you. Ethan.”

“I love Ethan” Bill began, “after all he is my son...but sometimes he can get a little out of hand. I don’t want you to think we’re babysitting
you
. Just him.”

He gave her a big smile.

Kelly laughed, “What is he, 25?”

“Yes! And he’s a useless-- “

“Kath, don’t insult the man.” Bill cut her off.

“Katherine, William, it’s Katherine. Not all of us like to be called…”

They’re about to get
started
, Kelly thought. But her mother stopped herself, saying, “Kelly honey, can you tell Ethan that he missed the family meeting and that we’re leaving in the morning? Thank you.”

“I really don’t feel comfo--”

“Thank you, Kelly.”

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

As she made her way the upstairs, she heard the music again.

The slow undulating pull of strings, tones rising slowly to its highest chord, reaching that sweet squeal; of which was so tender, Kelly’s stomach began to fumble and her hands grew moist.

Catching her breath became difficult too.

It was as though the shaking strings of Ethan’s violin shook Kelly, --and
God
she exclaimed inwardly,
I can’t control this stomach.

She imagined her rib cages were lined with books and books, some of poetry, like Pablo Neruda's 21 sonnets; Allain de Botton’s collected essays on love. All of her felt like it was shaking, and crashing into her stomach.

She ceased moving forward when she got to the top of the steps, and then moved in when he stopped playing.

She approached his door. It was the first time she ever had. She knocked lightly. It only took a second before he answered the door.

The first thing she noticed was that it looked and smelled like he just got out of shower. If he weren’t looking directly at her, she would have taken a delicate whiff of his fragrant soap.

The next thing she noticed was that he was only wearing boxers and a tank top. 

A wave of hair eclipsed his vision. He pushed it away with a finger, revealing a pair of light brown eyes, with splinters of gold and honey at the iris.

“Hey Miss Mysterious, come in.”

She chuckled, “Miss mysterious?”

“No? Not a good fit?”

She chuckled again, suppressing it midway. She knew that she only laughed like that when she was nervous, so she tried to control it.

“You can call me Kelly. Hey, by the way, the parents wanted me to tell you something.”

“Okay Kelly. Did you like my concerto?”

She didn’t think he’d bring it up himself, “I was going to ask you about that,” she looked around for the instrument, breaking her fixation on him for just a moment.

Bookcases. That was the first thing she noticed. Instead of 3 other walls, he had 3 massive rosewood bookcases, filled completely.

She began walking towards the one on her left-hand side, “You read all of these books?”

Running her finger over a collection of classic poems, and, ironically enough, the novel Lolita. She doesn’t recognize any of the others.

“Most of them. Well, all of them, except for the American History Anthologies up at the top. That’s just for show.”

“Why do you read so much?”

He looked at her crossly, in question.

“I mean like, is it for school, or did you study something in school or--”

He had cut her off by not saying anything at all, only moved closer to her. She felt the pink rushing to her cheeks; the room becoming smaller as he got closer.

“You know--this is the most we’ve ever said to each other. Why?” then he crossed the room so that he was standing between her and the bookcase.

She held her breath. Her hand twitched at her side, just about to reach and touch his cheek, but she shuddered--he was looking straight into her eyes, searching for something. She quickly turned around, facing the door.

“I forgot I have to do something. But my mom and Bill sent me up here just to let you know they’re leaving town tomorrow morning. They should be gone, but Edna’s staying.”

“Edna’s staying huh. Well she used to always stay, and she usually keeps to herself, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I’m going to have a couple of friends over, have a couple drinks. You should come. You can be my date,” he smirked.

She was lurid.

“Of course not in a serious way.”

She could have melted at his smile.

“We’re family now, sis.”

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