Stepbrother Jerk (2 page)

“Glad to hear it, guys.” Our parents walked toward the kitchen, and I smiled at Lisa.

“You don’t need to pack. I’ll take care of everything,” I told her.

She swallowed, looking up at me. At five foot five she came to about the middle of my chest and I made no motion to step away. I liked her a little nervous. It was a good start to things.

“Eight a.m. sharp, Lees. See you then,” I said, slapping her ass hard once, laughing at the look on her face when she grabbed the spot. There was more where that came from. She’d find that out soon enough.

Drinking my beer, I made my way back to the living room, resuming my spot on the couch, feeling good. Real good.

I
kept
conversation casual on the ride to the beach house. I wanted her on edge, and, from the look in Lisa’s eyes and the unnatural quiet from her side of things, it was working. Once we arrived at the house, which was set on a quiet cul-de-sac with backyard access to the beach, I parked the car and we climbed out. It was a gorgeous day, the sky blue, the smell of the ocean heavy in the air.

Lisa had attempted to bring a duffel bag full of clothes with her, but I hadn’t allowed it. This weekend, I was in charge. Of everything. And I had packed all that I needed and then some. The thought of it all made me smile.

“Let’s go in, Lisa.” With a hand at her back, I led her toward the front door. For a minute, it was like walking a condemned man to the electric chair. “Relax, you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say. I wasn’t even allowed to bring a bikini!”

“You won’t be doing much lounging, so I didn’t see the point. I have everything you need right here. And, remember, this weekend is all about submission. Yours.”

“I don’t really know what you mean.”

I shrugged a shoulder and dug the house key from inside my pocket. “You’re a smart girl, Lees. At least, you used to be. You’ll figure it out.” I pushed the door open. “After you.”

She hesitated at the threshold. I merely raised an eyebrow and she took the step into the house. I shut the door behind us and dropped the duffel bag, anxious to begin.

“I have some friends coming for dinner tonight.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see later. I was hoping you’d make your chocolate cake for dessert.”

“You want me to bake for you?” she asked, her expression dubious.

I nodded. “It’s
one
of the things I want you to do.”

“Fine.” She turned to head toward the kitchen, but I grabbed her arm.

“Uh-uh. Not so fast. Living room first.”

She hesitated but went into the living room and sat down on the sofa. I dug out her first outfit and followed her in.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Your apron.”

“Um, okay. I think there’s an apron in the kitchen.”

“I wanted something special. Up.”

She stood and I took the seat she vacated.

“Oh, I want that icing, too, the dark chocolate one. And raspberry jam between the layers.”

She made a face. She hated that I put jam on cake. What could I say? I liked jam.

“Fine. Give me the apron so I can get to work.”

“First things first. Stand here,” I said, pointing to a spot a few feet directly in front of me.

She rolled her eyes, again, and stood where I’d said then looked at me with a
what now, dickhead
expression on her face

“Strip.”

“What?” Shock. That was what I was going for.

“You heard me. Strip.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.” I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, readying myself to enjoy the show.

“Come on, Jace.”

“You’ll call me Sir while we’re here this weekend.”

Her eyes grew wider, and I swore her nipples hardened beneath the white T-shirt she wore. The latter came as a surprise.

“Lisa?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am.”

“You didn’t say anything about this!”

“I said whatever I deemed necessary. And I deem this necessary.” Up until that moment, I spoke casually, enjoying the exchange, her resistance. But, now, it was time to take charge and show her I meant business. “Now, get naked,” I said, my tone low, my gaze stern, as I settled deeper into my seat, my cock already beginning to stir in anticipation.

“Fine. You want to see me naked? Jerk. Then just fine.” She pulled her T-shirt over her head, the glare in her eyes telling of her anger. “I don’t know what you think it will accomplish—”

I stopped smiling and cut her off. “For one thing, it will help to humble you. Now, stop with the back talk and get naked. You agreed to this, remember that.”

“I hate you.” She pushed her jeans off, sliding her sandals off as she did, then undid her bra. I watched while she cupped each breast, covering herself for one moment longer, her neck and face turning a pretty pink, her eyes wider now, the badass attitude from moments ago vanishing as she stood before me, readying to bare herself to my gaze.

I cleared my throat and she finally had to let go of her bra and allow her full, heavy breasts free.

I swallowed. Christ. They were fucking perfect. More than a handful but pert, big dark nipples hard. My cock stiffened as I scanned her almost naked body, her petite shoulders, narrow waist, the swell of full but not heavy hips. When I met her gaze, it was one of a different Lisa. A Lisa who was quiet and uncertain. A Lisa you wanted to wrap your arms around and protect. This was good, but it wasn’t enough. I nudged at her to get rid of her panties.

“Naked means no clothes, Lisa. Finish it.”

She swallowed, lowering her lashes, at least while she slid her panties down and stepped out of them. When she straightened, her face had gone from soft pink to a much more satisfying crimson. Humility was a good trait, one she lacked.

“Hands at the back of your head.”

She tightened her lip, glaring again, but complied, and I smiled.

“That’s a good girl.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Quiet.”

Oddly, she complied. I made a point of dragging my gaze over every inch of her, taking in the soft, tanned flesh before coming to rest on the prize, the slit of her sex.

Her pussy was shaved bare, pretty, although there wasn’t much about pussy that wasn’t pretty. Looking at Lisa’s made me wonder how wet she’d be if I touched her now. If she was at least a little aroused. Because from the slight scent I picked up, I suspected she was.

I pulled the light pink apron with its ruffled, flower-patterned edges from the bag and stood, not attempting to hide the tent of my erection, knowing she saw it too. I walked behind her, getting an eyeful of that beautiful, full, pristine ass that I bet had never been spanked.

Lisa remained in position, obedient, with her hands clasped at the back of her head. I reached around to set the apron in place, both of us catching our breath when my fingers grazed her waist. I tied a tight bow and stepped back to have a look. The little scrap of fabric almost framed her ass, and, when I walked around to face her again, I saw it just barely reached the very tops of her thighs, giving one the slightest view of that pretty little pussy.

Her eyes were lowered when I returned my attention to her face. “I’d send you right into the kitchen, but I believe you called me a jerk a little while ago. For that, you’ll stand with your nose touching the corner for five minutes. Right there. Hop to it.”

“W—what?” She had to clear her throat and her voice came out small.

“Corner time.” I pointed to the spot. “Nose and toes touch the wall. Five minutes. I’ll set my watch once you’re in position.”

Uncertainty gave way to irritation and she glared, opened her mouth to speak, but somehow kept her arms in place, stomped her foot, and walked to the corner, assuming the position, waiting. I smiled and sat back down, knowing the minute I was alone, I’d be jerking off in my hand to the vision of that ass on display and waiting to be spanked by me.

I fished the cell phone out of my pocket and read through some texts, or pretended to. My gaze shifted often to the penitent in the corner. She stood remarkably still and, even more remarkably, silent, giving herself over to submission more easily than I’d expected she would. But perhaps what I’d expect of her in the coming hours would test that surrender.

When the five minutes were up, I went to her. I slapped her ass, making her jump. She grabbed it and turned to face me, her expression making me laugh out loud.

“Corner time’s over. Go get baking, Lisa. Our guests will be here before you know it. You don’t want to be in this little apron when they do.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would. You won’t be allowed to leave the kitchen until the cake is baked, iced, and the kitchen spotless.”

“Who’s coming over?”

“Friends. Don’t worry, you know them.”

Her face sank. “Jace, please —”

I turned away. “I’m going out for a swim. Kitchen is stocked, so get to it.”

J
ace was a jerk
. But I guess I knew that. While I worked, he went out swimming then lounged on the back porch with a newspaper. I could see him from the kitchen window and mentally willed every horrible thing that could happen to him to happen as I poured chocolate cake batter into the pans and slid them into the oven.

Thing was, though, it wasn’t that hard to agree to this weekend. When my mom and Jace’s dad had gotten together, I’d been young. My dad had moved out not six months ago at that point. It had seemed so rushed. And the way my mom had told me, I guess it was typical for her, but, still, I’d been surprised. No, shocked. She’d introduced me to Jace and his father, and, within moments of that introduction, had shown me her brand new — and huge — engagement ring. Part of me wondered if she’d been cheating on my dad all along, but I couldn’t stomach that thought.

Jace had been good then. His dad, too, was fine, but I couldn’t like him without feeling like I was betraying my own father. With Jace, it was easier. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and he was nice to me from the start. Or
at
the start, at least. We’d connected pretty easily, actually, and I had to admit, from the first moment I saw him, there was a spark. It was weird, but, then again, it wasn’t like we were blood relatives. If I’d seen him on the street, I would have felt the same.

He’d found out a couple of months prior about my mom and his dad dating and told me later that he’d been shocked that my mom had told me the way she had.

I remembered those first months, hell, that first year. We’d lie in bed together and talk. On really nice nights, we’d carry our things out to the backyard when everyone was asleep and just lie there looking at the sky, counting stars until we fell asleep. We didn’t even need to talk some nights. It never failed that when I woke in the morning, I’d be tucked into my own bed, and I knew it was him who’d carried me in.

Neither of us mentioned these nights. They just happened. We’d started to hold hands, and it felt good. Felt right. But I guess I’d had the wrong idea all along.

If I thought of that night I’d tried to kiss him, I still wished the earth would open up and swallow me whole. I’d been so embarrassed — still was. Although what he did to me, making me stand in the corner like that with my ass on display, that took the cake on embarrassment. But the kiss, it had just happened. I’d leaned over and kissed him on the lips. He’d watched me do it, lying there, allowing it, kissing me back even, but then, as soon as it was over, he’d asked what I was doing. I’d been mortified. That had been the end to those nights and to our friendship because I’d been too ashamed to face him.

“Smells good, Lees.” Jace came into the kitchen, making me jump as he smacked my naked ass hard, again.

“Ow, that fucking hurts!” He must hate me to be able to do this to me, to humiliate me like this. But then, when he’d stood up, I’d seen how his pants bulged where his cock had thickened. That was different, though. That was a man looking at a naked woman. Any man would get hard.

He leaned toward the oven, reaching for the handle.

“Don’t open the oven door and keep your fingers out of the frosting.”

He straightened but dipped a finger into the bowl. He looked at me as he licked that finger clean, the expression on his face almost apologetic, but not really.

I put the last dish away and turned to face him, wiping my hands on the apron. “I’m done. Can I put on some clothes?”

“Cakes are still baking.”

“There’s nothing I can do until they’re finished and cooled.”

“How much baking time is left?”

I checked my watch. “Twenty minutes.”

“Perfect.” He pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. “Time to get that first spanking over with.”

My belly flipped, and my heart fell to my feet. I stared at him, and, as I did, as I looked into those navy-blue eyes that seemed to dance with a dark heat, my core burned and my clit tightened.

“Are —” Clear throat, start again. “Are you serious?”

“You bet your pretty little ass I am. Now, come on over here. I’ll be using my hand this time, but you’ll take more than that before the weekend is up and I feel your penance is paid.”

“Jace, please, be reasonable.”

He shook his head, raising his finger as if telling a little kid no. “What do you call me this weekend?”

I rolled my eyes. “Sir.”

“Eye rolling will be addressed immediately following the spanking. Now, take off the apron and lie across my lap.”

I’d never been spanked before. Not as a child and certainly not as an adult. I’d read about it and seen pictures. I knew it was a kink. And, honestly, the idea of Jace spanking me turned me on as much as I knew it should repel me.

“Tick tock. Friends will be here soon. You don’t want to be standing in the corner with your red ass on display when they show up.”

I swear my jaw hit the ground. Jace opened his mouth and laughed so hard, I thought he’d fall off the chair, the bastard. He patted his knee as he did, and I reached back to undo the apron. Hell, he’d seen me naked already. Although I didn’t like that he was dressed and I wasn’t, that was the least of my worries. In a few minutes, he’d be getting up close and personal with my ass and—more importantly—unless I kept my legs sealed, he’d see evidence of my arousal.

“Can I put something on? I mean, I don’t know that it’s appropriate that my stepbrother sees me — sees my…”

“I think it’s very appropriate, especially considering what I’m trying to do here,” he said in all seriousness.

“You mean humiliate me?”

“I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t care about you, Lisa.”

I stared at him, confused.

“Hell, someone has to, and it’s not your mom.”

He was right about that. I couldn’t remember a time my mom had disciplined me. All she’d do was to send me to my room when she was fed up with me, whether I was in the wrong or not.

“Now, come on, let’s get this over with.”

Taken aback by his words, I undid the apron, tossed it on the counter and went to him, taking the hand he offered. He looked up at me for a moment before easing me down over his lap. I grabbed hold of one of his thighs to balance myself until I could reach the floor as he adjusted me, making sure all along to keep my legs sealed tight.

Once I was down and he seemed pleased with how he had me positioned, I pushed my hair behind my ears but kept my gaze on the floor.

“Lisa, relax your legs and ass. Don’t clench.”

“No.”

He chuckled and his big hand came to rest on my ass, turning circles. “Well, I’ll tell you what, I won’t actually count as having started until you do.” With that, he landed the first smack on my right cheek.

“Ow!” Instinct had my hand flying back to cover the spot. “That hurt!” I said, craning my neck to look at him.

“That’s the point,” he said, gathering my wrist in his hand and trapping it at my lower back. I struggled to free myself as he raised his hand and brought it down on the other cheek, then repeated several times with quick, sharp smacks. His face was completely serious as he did it, not even a tiny smile to suggest anything was going on here but a proper chastising, and, by the time he was finished with what turned out to be the first round — or the warm-up, as he called it later — he had both my wrists in one of his hands and after my struggles, my ass was positioned higher than when we’d started
and
he’d managed to trap my legs between his.

I had lost all decorum. Had I had any since stripping and baking naked in an apron, though? I’d been able to pretend up until now at least.

“Okay, we’ll call that the warm-up. Now we can get to your spanking.”

“You mean that wasn’t it?”

“Nope,” he said, raising his hand and swatting me hard, then repeating. I was calling out for him to stop within moments, fighting him every step of the way, kicking my legs even though it was useless, and trying to free my arms from his powerful grip. He just went on as if my struggles were of no consequence. Jace spanked me hard, swatting several times in one spot, making sure to get my thighs, too, which hurt like a mother fucker, until I was crying, begging for him to stop or slow down or just at least not hit the same spot again and again. My ass burned. I’d never realized it would feel so hot after a spanking, and the sound, the sound was so loud, I was glad our neighbors weren’t close enough to hear it. Or I hoped they weren’t.

“I meant what I said, Lisa,” he lectured as he spanked, seeming not at all winded by his effort when I was gulping in big breaths between cries and tears. “I care about you and I don’t know what’s happened to you over the last couple of years, but you’re not the Lisa I met, the one I got to know those first months. The Lisa I
know
is still in there, hidden deep beneath the bitchy façade you put on. And now, you’re getting yourself into trouble. Drugs are not a game.”

“It was pot. I don’t do anything else besides pot.”

“Still, it’s not legal, and you’re lucky Mack found you or you’d be getting bailed out with a record.”

“I’m sorry! Please just stop!”

But he clearly wasn’t through. “You don’t even talk to me anymore. I thought we were close for a while there.”

“Please, Jace, it hurts!”

“I don’t know what happened.”

You rejected me!
But I couldn’t say that aloud. No way.

“Please. Sir. Please.”

He paused then and looked at me. I watched him through the mass of blonde hair that stuck to my face, feeling my ass throb as soon as he stopped smacking it.

“I’m doing this for your own good, Lisa.” As he said it, I realized something. I realized the thing that had been poking at my belly but that I’d not paid attention to considering the pain I was in, was his cock. He was hard as a rock.

“You’re enjoying this!” I cried out, furious.

He released my hands and I swiped one across my eyes and nose before pushing my hair back.

He smiled. “I never said I wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“You bastard!” My struggle began anew and, this time, Jace did laugh, easily grabbing up my hands, restraining me tighter than he had as he began a fresh volley of spanks that had me screaming every profanity I knew at him.

He was fucking enjoying this! The bastard was loving it!

“And, really, Lisa, I wasn’t going to say anything, but I do have a bird’s eye view of things here,” he said slowing down and resting his hand on my ass. “Look at me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Look at me,” he repeated, this time releasing my hands.

I craned my neck, glaring at him. He made a point of meeting my gaze as his hand suddenly slid between my cheeks, two fingers pressing against my sex.

My wet sex.

His eyes had gone darker and his grin wasn’t malicious, just dirty, as he raised that hand up, showing me evidence I didn’t need to see to know, before bringing those fingers to his nose and inhaling deeply. “You have to admit,” he said quietly, making me gasp as he licked my wetness from his fingers, my clit throbbing as he did. “There’s some part of you that’s more than a little aroused. I could smell it before you even lay down across my lap, and now.” He shifted his gaze to my ass, that hand pulling one cheek out to expose me, making my face go as hot as my ass felt. I closed my eyes, unable to look at him. “Christ, Lisa, you’re fucking dripping down your thighs.”

I lay limp across his lap, vanquished.

“Had enough?”

I nodded without looking at him.

“All right.” He raised me up, holding my wrists so I couldn’t rub my ass. I kept my eyes on his lap, on his thick erection. He was just as aroused as I was, and I met his gaze to make sure he knew I knew.

“Time to put that punished ass on display, Lisa.”

Any leverage I had flew out the window.

“No.” Not again. Those five minutes in the corner earlier were almost more humiliating than the spanking. Okay, more!

He stood and walked me into the living room, toward the couch in the center of the room, the one that faced the front door.

“Kneel on the seat facing the back of the sofa.”

“Jace — Sir — please.”

“Kneel.”

As humiliating as this was, as I knelt on the couch and he slowly positioned me as he wanted, my pussy dripped down my thighs.

“Lean forward, that’s right. Hands on the back of the couch, get your tits right over the back and push your ass out. I want it on display for myself, for anyone who comes to the door.”

I jumped, my expression one of shock.

“Relax. No one is due for another hour and you’ll only spend twenty minutes here thinking about your behavior. Now get into position and hold it, or I will make you greet our guests like this.”

“I hate you.” The timer went off as I said it. The cakes were ready.

“No you don’t.” He pressed against me so I could feel his cock on my ass as he leaned down, his erection pressing against my hip through his pants. “I think the opposite, in fact,” he whispered, his breath at my neck making me shudder before he abruptly walked away, taking the cakes out of the oven, leaving me alone and on display, my pussy dripping with need, my ass throbbing with residue from my first ever spanking administered by, of all people, my stepbrother.