Stepbrother Studs: Taboo A-Z Boxed Set Volume 1: A Stepbrother Romance Bundle (Stepbrother Studs Boxed Sets) (12 page)

Cameron let out a loud yell, hips bucking up in the chair, his cock pistoning up through his fist as he came.  Virginia gasped in shock as the first, explosive spray of his cum landed, perfectly aimed, on her lower belly.  It dripped down toward her pussy, leaving a hot trail, where Lily continued to rub Virginia’s hard clit.  The second blast of his cum decorated her rug, not reaching as far, but Virginia only half-registered it, because she was coming too, coming with him, their eyes locked, sharing something in that moment that both scared and excited her. 

He collapsed in the chair, head bent, while Virginia turned her face into Lily’s shoulder.  Her friend stroked her hair, kissed her cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” Cameron croaked, finally looking up. 

“Let him loose.”  Virginia barely got the words out.  She grabbed for one of her t-shirts, pulling over her head. 

Lily unlocked the other three pairs of handcuffs.  Cameron stood to pull up his pants and boxers while avoiding the gaze of the two young women.

“Leave the money on the bed and go,” Virginia said, not moving from her spot on the floor. 

Cameron didn’t say anything as he pulled a hundred and twenty dollars from his wallet, dropping it near a spot that was still wet with his stepsister’s come, and then turned toward the door.

“Cam,” Lily called, stopping him in his tracks.  “You’re going to double your price and have your friends tune into the same bat-channel at the same bat-time next week—since they’re going to get a two-fer with me and Ginny—and you’re going to give us the money.”

“What, all of it?”  Cameron turned his head to gape at her.

“Well, I guess you contribute something… so let’s say we split it with you 90-10, in our favor.”  Lily held up the camera remote.  “Don’t forget, we have you on video, doing things I’m sure you don’t want anyone else to see.”

Cameron sighed, nodded, and then left. 

“You okay?”  Lily asked as Virginia moved onto the bed, hugging her pillow and staring at the closed bedroom door. 

“Fine.”  She blinked, trying to shake it off.  It had just been the heat of the moment, she told herself.  It didn’t mean anything.  She rolled over and sat, grinning at Lily, putting on the bravest face she could muster.  “Let’s go shopping with that cash.” 

Virginia finished compressing and filing “Cameron’s World” on her computer.  Lily convinced her she had to keep it, for leverage.  That’s when she saw the folder she’d copied from his laptop.  She flushed, remembering the show she’d put on for the guys.  She imagined he now had that tape too.  She’d thought having a tape of him doing the same thing would feel good, but it didn’t.  It actually felt kind of awful. 

They’d been avoiding each other since it happened.  She’d stayed off the spinning bike and she hadn’t even seen him in the kitchen at breakfast eating cereal. 

She double-clicked on the folder she’d copied over from his computer, looking at the titles of the videos he’d created.  There was “Busy Hands,” where she double-fucked herself with her fingers, “Doggy Style,” which was self-explanatory, and “Wish It Was Me,” in which she fucked and deep-throated her vibrator.

She noticed “Virginia 1” and figured it was the first video he’d made of her.  How long had he been doing it?  She wondered.  Curious, she clicked on it.  But wasn’t of her at all. 

It was a video of him playing a song on his guitar and singing about her hair.  As she watched, she saw him stop and scribble some new lyrics on a piece of paper before starting again.  His voice wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad either.  And he could actually play the guitar.  How had she not known this about him?

“Virginia 2” was a funny song about her on the spin bike.  “Virginia 3” was a song about a woman he adored from afar but could never have.  “Virginia 4” was a straight-up ballad professing how much he loved her.  “Virginia 5” was both kinky and sweet as he sang:

Watching Virginia between the sheets...

Wanting Virginia between the sheets…

The impossible place where our bodies meet…

As one…

The impossible space where our hearts beat…

As one…

Virginia knocked by no one answered.  When she opened his bedroom door, she found him asleep, turned away from the door, facing the wall.  His breathing was deep and even.  Inspired, she stripped down to nothing and slid between the sheets with him.  Her sudden presence jolted him out of slumber and he spun in the bed, nearly hitting her with his elbow.

“Virginia?  What the hell?”  He blinked, rubbing his eyes.  “Is Lily here or something?  Are you going to handcuff me again?”

“No, Cameron.”  She cringed at his response, reaching out to touch his cheek.  He hadn’t shaved and it was prickly.  “It’s just me.  It’s just us.”

“Are… are you crying?”  He touched her cheek too, soft, bringing his fingers back to look at them in the dimness.  They were wet. 

“I heard the songs,” she confessed with a sniff.  “The impossible place where our bodies meet as one?”

“Oh crap.”  He covered his face with one hand, turning his face toward the pillow, voice muffled. 

“You know, you could’ve said something—instead of putting a camera in my wall.”

“Wha… what?”  He peeked out from under his hand at her, frowning. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t know how.”  He swallowed.  “You’re so beautiful… But you’re… fuck…”

“I know.”  She sighed.  “I didn’t want to say it out loud either.”

“Say what?”  He cocked his head at her. 

“That I’m falling for my stepbrother.”

He let out a pent-up breath.  “Mom and Dad would freak.”

“They don’t have to know.”  She edged closer to him, until they were belly to belly.  The feel of his skin against hers was heaven.  “I’m sorry Lily and I did that to you.  I was just so pissed…”

“No,
I’m
sorry.”  He lowered his head, shaking it.  “It was stupid.  It was even more stupid to invite the guys.”

“Stupider.  It was stupider.”

Cameron rolled his eyes and laughed.  “Okay, grammar nerd.”

“Let’s delete the videos together,” she suggested.  “We can start over now that, well… now that all our cards are on the table.”

“Can I keep ‘Doggy Style’ though?”  Cameron grinned.  “It’s really fucking hot.”

“Why bother when you can have the real thing?”  Virginia rolled to her belly, pushing her bottom in the air.

He didn’t hesitate, not even a second.  Rolling atop her and began kissing the back of her neck while his hard cock pressed between her cheeks through his underwear. 

“God, you smell good,” he whispered.  “Every time I watched you, I wished I could taste you, feel you, smell you…”

“Please, Cameron.  I want you in me.”  She was already rubbing her clit. 

“We have to be quiet.”  He tugged his boxers down and she moaned softly when she felt the head of his cock slap against her ass. 

“I know,” she whispered, glancing toward the closed door.  Their parents were sleeping somewhere, his dad and her mom.  They’d deal with that later, she told herself.  “I’ll be quiet for you, I promise.  Just please don’t tease me anymore, because if I don’t get to have you inside me, I’m going to—ohhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Shhhhh!”  he urged, as he entered her, but his hands gripped her hips hard, his fingers trembling.  He felt huge inside of her, swollen to an impossible girth.  “Oh God, you feel so good.”

“Yes,” she whispered back, rocking with him as he started to move.  She balled up the bottom sheet in her hands and he reached under her arms to put his hands atop hers.  It was a sweet gesture, so loving, and it melted her completely.  She was like butter underneath him, soft and open and waiting to be spread. 

“Fuck, Virginia,” he hissed.  “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Don’t stop, Cameron,” she urged, keeping her voice just above a whisper.  “Please, please, don’t stop.”

He slowly rocked into her, an easy, teasing rhythm.  She knew he probably didn’t want to make the bed springs to squeak too loud—or maybe, like her, he wanted it to last and last.  Her breath came faster, hot against the pillow.  Cameron’s breath moved over her neck and shoulder, his tongue snaking out to taste her as they fucked.  She couldn’t stand it, how he filled her, the way he wrapped an arm around her waist, following her hand down between her own legs to feel her playing with herself. 

“Oh God, I’m going to come all over your cock,” she warned with a whimper, turning her face to bite down on her pillow as her first orgasm rippled from her cunt to her throat.  Cameron hissed and grabbed her ass as her pussy clenched again and again around his cock.

“Give it to me, Cameron,” she begged, working her hips against his, not stopping.  She couldn’t wait to feel him come inside her.  “I want it!”

He gave a soft moan, using his grip on her hips for leverage as he pumped harder, faster, getting ready for the big finish.  She smiled to herself, hearing the catch in his breath, the way his thighs trembled between hers. 

“I love you, Cam,” she whispered, knowing he was listening to every word.  “I love you so much.  I always have.  Come for me.  Please.  I want you.  I want you.” 

“Oh fuck, Sis, here it comes!”  He shuddered. 

“On my ass!”  She urged, tilting her hips forward, feeling him starting to slip out of her.  “Come on my fucking ass!”

He pulled out and she pinched her clit, feeling her own climax rolling through her as his hot come splashed against her ass, between her cheeks, peppering the small of her back.  He gripped her hips so hard, she knew she’d probably have bruises there, not that she cared. 

“I love you, sis,” he whispered as he rolled off her, to the side, still breathing hard.  “I always have.  I wish I’d told you sooner.”

“Me too.”  Virginia smiled as she twined her legs with his, resting her head under his chin, feeling his hand petting her hair.  “I think we have a lot of catching up to do.”

Melinda loves winning, especially when it means trouncing her arrogant stepbrother, Aaron. 

He thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips, but the nineties called and it wants its catch phrase back, because as far as Melinda is concerned, he’s more like all that and a bag of dicks—at least, he is lately.. 

All her friends think he’s hot, but they don’t have to deal with his smug smirk or his giant ego.  All they can talk about is his rumored giant… something else. 

So on their long train ride home for winter break through the Canadian mountains to Upper State New York, she decides to make a wager with her big-headed stepbrother, one she hopes that will settle the score between them, once and for all.

“Can you turn that down a little?”  Daren glared at her, scribbling something down in his notebook.

“Can you not be a dick?”  Lacey picked up the remote, turning the sound down one tiny, insignificant notch. 

He raised his eyebrows at her, like he was actually surprised by her overreaction, and she stuck her tongue out at him.  So maybe it was an overreaction.  So what?  She wasn’t allowed to overreact?  She reached across her stepbrother for a bowl of chips on the end table beside him.

Daren shifted and made a face but didn’t take his attention off his book.  There was another whoop from the audience as Oprah revealed that everyone had a gift under their seat.  Whoopee, good for them, Lacey thought, everyone but me gets lucky.

She saw Daren set his jaw, shaking his head slightly. 

Lacey crunched on the potato chips as loudly as she could, staring at Oprah as if totally absorbed by something she had never seen before—a rags to riches story and the heroic overcoming of personal tragedy.  Who would have guessed? 

Daren glanced at her again, a sideways look and she glared at him some more, shoving a whole handful of chips into her mouth, making sure to keep it open while she chewed even louder.  He blew a bit of hair out of his eyes, returning to his work with renewed indifference.  It was clear his powers of concentration were prodigious.  He was certainly cut out for the trade he was studying for.

She licked salt off her fingers, feeling the sting of it in a paper cut.  But that was nothing compared to the pain she was trying to hide from her younger stepbrother as he bent his head studiously over the books she wanted to kick to the floor.  She wanted to stay in a nice, easy state of denial, not believing he was actually going to leave in the fall to join the Navy.  But the closer it got, the more real it became. 

He was going to abandon her. 

Daren had delighted and exasperated Lacey for the ten-ish years they’d known each other.  She was always ready to let him know the latter, while she kept the former quite to herself. 

He’d entered her world as a stranger, forced upon her when his dad married her mom, but it hadn’t turned out so bad.  I mean, he could be a jerk, and a pain in her ass, but he always made her smile, even when he was pissing her off. 

What was she going to do without her favorite frenemy? 

What was she going to do without her “Spock?”  They both enjoyed the re-runs of the old TV show, and she had nicknamed him thusly because of his rational and disciplined personality, in stark contrast to her own.  “Spock,” in turn, had cast Lacey as a “Klingon war queen”—wild, impulsive, and a little dangerous.  Once, he had stumbled into the bathroom by accident when she was shaving her legs and had teased her about “preparing for battle.”

Only gradually, as Daren’s ambitions to join the Navy solidified, had Lacey realized there might be a rival for her affections.  It was his dad’s fault.  He’d been the one who had first taken them out to learn how to sail when she was about fourteen, and while she had a hard time keeping starboard and port straight, Daren had proven himself a natural sailor.  A future at sea for him seemed inevitable. 

So now here he sat surrounded with books on radio wavelengths and antennae, including flow charts and circuit diagrams, plotting to leave her.  The jerk.  He was as methodical about studying as he was about the best way to coil a rope, to fix a sail, or hoist an anchor. 

Truth was, she hadn’t even intended to come in here.  She had stuff to do upstairs, her own books to hit, but when she’d peeked in, his air of industrious self-sufficiency irked her beyond words.  So now here she was, watching Oprah congratulate her distinguished guest for something or other, the audience whooping in appreciation.

Lacey pivoted on the couch, putting her legs on Daren’s lap, forcing him to lift his book and put it on Lacey’s legs.

“Hey!”  He didn’t even look over at her.  “I’m trying to study.”

“Sor-ry!”  She rolled her eyes.

“What’s got into you?”

“I can watch Oprah, can’t I?”

“Whatever.”

“Why are
you
in such a bad mood?”

“Uh… me?  Bad mood?  I think the mood I’m in is called ‘trying to study.’ My test is coming up.  You know how much the Navy means to me.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”  She threw up her hands.  “I’m just watching TV.  Is that okay with your navy?”

Daren muttered something Lacey didn’t quite catch.

“You think this room belongs to you?”  she snapped.  “It’s a den, not a library.”

“I seem to recall being here first.  I was doing just fine ’til you came along.”

“
I was here first!” 
Lacey mimicked him, sarcastically impersonating a petulant child.  It wasn’t really a fair or accurate portrayal, but all was fair in love, war, and sibling arguments. 

“Okay…” Daren took a deep breath, as if heroically summoning the last patience left in the world.  “I’ll just take my books…”

“You stupid jerk!”  She couldn’t take it anymore.  Not another minute.  She wanted to cry, but instead she yelled at him.  “You think you’re so superior with your radio crap and your Morris code…”

“It’s Morse code.”  His lips twitched.

“Fuck you!”  Lacey jumped off the couch, knocking the book out of Daren’s hand.  The bowl of potato chips went flying too, just for good measure.

“Di-di-dah-dit, dih-dih-dah, dah-di-dah-dit, dah-dih-dah.”  Daren was translating Lacey’s insult into code as he coolly picked his book up from the floor. 

Lacey threw a pillow at him and stomped out of the room, shouting out the open window at their parents—they were out back planting flowers or something—that Daren was being a snotty little baby dick again, before heading up to her room. 

She threw herself on her bed, face down, and buried her head in her pillow.  Maybe she just needed a nap.  She hadn’t been sleeping well lately.  She listened to Daren snoring in the room next to hers half the night.  Sometimes, when she walked by, headed to the bathroom, she’d see him in the moonlight, arm thrown over his head, sheets snagged around his waist, his broad, muscled chest bare, rising and falling with his breath. 

He might have to study for his radar test, but he wasn’t going to have to do much to pass basic training, that was for sure.  Her stepbrother was ripped, and he didn’t even work out.  Years of sailing had made him both tanned and toned. 

Lacey looked up at the sound—a careful knock on her bedroom door. 

“What?”  she snapped.  Daren opened the door and peeked in.  “What do
you
want?”

“Are we gonna talk about this, or what?”  He came in and she turned her face to the wall when he sat on the bed beside her. 

“Talk about what?”  Lacey feigned surprise.  “You being such a dick?  What’s there to talk about?”

“You know damn well…” Daren sighed.  “Lacey, come on.” 

“That den doesn’t belong to you, you know.”  She wasn’t ready to give up any ground yet.

“Come on, don’t play games.  This is me you’re talking to.  What’s up with you?”

Lacey sniffled but didn’t turn to face him. 

“I can read you like one of my textbooks,” he went on.  “It’s not like I’m not familiar with your little performances.”

“Little performances!”  she cried, turning over and sitting up to glare at him, wagging her finger.  “You…”

“Hang on, hang on.”  He grinned, taking her slight shoulders in his big hands. 

“Jerk.”  She stuck her tongue out at him, realizing too late that he’d intentionally provoked her, just to get her to turn and face him.  It was a lot harder to keep up the ruse when she was looking into his dark, concerned eyes. 

“Look…” His tone turned softer, his too-long curly dark hair falling to the side as he cocked his head at her.  They were gonna shave all that gorgeous hair off, she realized.  The thought made her ache.  “I can guess.  You’re not happy about me leaving to join the Navy.”

“No.”  She sniffed, finally confessing.  “I’m not.”

“Look.  I’ll miss you too.”  His grip on her shoulders tightened as he leaned in closer.  “Don’t think I won’t.  It isn’t easy for me either.  But I’ll write you all the time.  It won’t be so bad.”

“Writing.  Sure.”  She sniffed again, not looking at him.  If she met his eyes, she was going to just burst into tears.  “You know how good I am at that writing stuff.  Not.” 

“But I am.”  He reached out to touch her chin, his fingers calloused, turning her face to his.  “How many letters do you want a week?  I’ll write one every day if you want.  Twice a day.”

She shook her head, a growing lump in her throat, not answering him.  She couldn’t.

“Lace,” he said softly.  “Look at me.” 

Fuck.  She couldn’t. 

But then she did.  And the tears started to fall. 

“Oh Lace.”  He caught one of her tears with his thumb, spreading salt on her quivering lower lip, before pulling her into his arms. 

He was so solid and strong, she couldn’t help herself.  She put her arms around him and sobbed.  He held her close, rocking her, kissing the top of her dark head.  It was strange, how alike they looked, even though they weren’t related.  People always mistook them for real siblings.