Stuck On My Stepbrother (21 page)

I took a sip of champagne, trying not to get too nervous about Patrick’s imminent arrival.

At that moment, there was a knock at the front door.

I walked over my new polished pine floor, sliding on my stockings on purpose as I went, enjoying the feeling of skating in my own home. I looked through the peephole in the door, and saw Patrick, nervously fiddling with his collar, scowling. I opened the door.
 

‘Patrick,’ I said. ‘Thank you for coming.’ I gave him a hug, but could tell he wasn’t in the mood.

‘Come in,’ I said, pointing at the sofa beside the chaise longue. ‘Please, take a seat.’

Now I thought about it sensibly, leaving a glass of champagne on the coffee table had probably been a bad idea. I didn’t want to rub his nose in it too much. On the other hand, I didn’t want to hide anything else from him, so I decided to stick to my guns and be honest. ‘Can I get you a drink, Patrick?’ I asked ‘I’ve got champagne in the fridge. There’s red wine too…’

‘I’ll have whatever you’re having,’ Patrick said moodily, looking at my champagne with disdain.

‘Sure.’ I walked over to the kitchen and poured him out a generous glassful, and then went over to the chaise-longue, handing him the glass.

‘Cheers,’ Patrick said, meaning
thanks
– he certainly wasn’t about to click glasses with me in celebration. ‘So, Rose, would you mind telling me what the
feck
is going on here?’ He looked around at my brand new luxury home in confusion.

‘I owe you an apology, Patrick,’ I said. ‘I’ve been very confused about my feelings towards you, and I’m afraid I haven’t treated you very fairly.’

Patrick took a big swig of his drink. ‘Well you’re right about that,’ he said snappily.

I decided I needed to get to the heart of the matter, as quickly as possible. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. ‘The problem is, Patrick, there’s someone else.’

Patrick took another mouthful of champagne. ‘I knew it. Some high-flyin’ journo at Global? Some slick, smooth-talker who showed you around on your first day?’

‘Almost,’ I said, looking down at my fingers, drumming nervously on my skirt. ‘It’s Adam Cooper.’

Patrick’s face turned, in an instant, to a ghostly shade of white, then it flushed a bright, bloody red. ‘Adam Cooper? Your
boss
? The
billionaire
?’

I had to try very hard to hide a smile as I nodded. Just hearing someone else say his name was enough to make me giddy. ‘Yes,’ I replied softly. ‘That’s the one.’

‘You know that guy’s meant to be a total
pervert
,’ spat Patrick. ‘I know this woman at Global – Nisha – and she says-’

‘Nisha has left Global,’ I cut in. ‘And I know all about it. Anyway, he’s not a pervert.’ I wanted to add:
he’s my stepbrother
. But of course, I didn’t.

Patrick’s eyebrows were knitted together. He was obviously having a hard time computing all this. ‘So, what, you’re
fucking
him?’
 

I didn’t want to lie to Patrick, but it wasn’t easy to come out and tell the truth either. I let the flush of my cheeks reveal my honest answer. ‘I wasn’t, Patrick,’ I said, ‘until last night, but then…’

‘You stood me up so you could go and
fuck
your billionaire boss?’ Patrick spat. ‘Rose, you’ve got to be kidding me. I can’t believe you brought me here for this. What do you want me to say, for feck’s sake?

I drank a little of my champagne now, feeling the tiny bubbles exploding on the tip of my tongue, where words were not. ‘I… I wanted to tell the truth. I thought I wanted something to happen between you and me, but… I’ve got feelings for Adam too. I don’t know what’s going to happen with him yet, Patrick, but I’m afraid that last night I made my choice. The circumstances under which I made it – standing you up and leaving you waiting in an Italian restaurant all night weren’t great, I grant you, but–’

‘No,’ Patrick said, putting his glass on the coffee table and standing up. ‘They weren’t. Look, I don’t know why you had to invite me here to tell me that. I mean, where even is this? Is this
his place
?’

I couldn’t help a little smirk. This place, luxurious as it was, was
nothing
compared to Adam's apartment. And I’d found out, when talking to him about it last night, that it was just one of
seven
apartments he had, scattered across the world. Including one in Japan. One which he promised to take me to with him, one day. ‘I invited you here because I’d like to be your friend,’ I said. ‘And this is my place,’ I added, ‘for now. It’ s on loan to me.’

‘What, for as long as you keep fucking him? And then what? Do you get to keep your job?’ Patrick ranted.

I stood up to face him. ‘Please, Patrick.’

Patrick ran his fingers through his hair, shaking with anger. He took a deep breath, turned away momentarily to look out of the window and back at me. ‘Look. Rose. We’re friends, okay? But this has been a lot to take on board. I’ll have to think about this. I appreciate the fact you’re being honest with me, but, jesus, sometimes just a feckin’
it’s not me, it’s you
will suffice, you know?’ He looked at me sternly, and then his scowl broke into a small smile, then the smile into a laugh.

I couldn’t help but laugh too.

‘Fuck’s sake, Rose Smith,’ he said, ‘you really are something else.’

I walked over to him, reaching my arms out for a hug, and he stiffened for a moment, and then hugged me back. ‘No hard feelings, Rose,’ he said into my ear as he held me close. ‘Just be careful. Okay?’

I was about to reply, but as I opened my mouth, we were interrupted by a noise. Someone was at the door.

I looked through the peephole warily. There was only one person who knew I was here: Adam.

I opened the door, and gave him my best smile. In that smile, I tried to indicate, with the expression in my eyes, that there was another man in the flat, the flat he’d just given me, but that it was okay, there was nothing going on with him, and that he needed to trust me on this.

Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to put all that across in a simple smile, so afterwards, I just had to sheepishly pull back the door to reveal Patrick, and hope for the best.

Adam stepped into the room, and looked first at the two glasses of champagne sitting half drunk on the coffee table, and then he looked at Patrick. Patrick looked at Adam, and then at me, and then back at Adam again. It was so strange to see them standing in the same room as one another. Patrick looked so small, so scruffy in comparison. Adam towered over him, in a crisp, smartly-ironed suit, with a straight back and an enormous amount of presence.

‘I’m Patrick,’ Patrick said, doing his best to smile, but not quite managing it. ‘Rose’s friend. It’s nice to meet you, sir.’ His voice was shaking.

Adam looked at him carefully for a few moments. ‘I know who you are,’ he said.

Patrick looked terrified.

‘I saw you at the National Press Awards at the start of the month. Onstage, with Rose.’

Patrick relaxed slightly, no doubt realizing that Adam hadn’t been spying on him. ‘That’s right. You did, sir.’

I felt pleased to hear Patrick referring to Adam as ‘sir’. I knew that Adam would like it too. Perhaps things weren’t going to go quite as badly as I’d thought, then... Nobody was going to make a scene.

‘Listen, I was just about to leave. Rose was just showing me her new apartment. Which is
great
by the way. Really great. Anyway, I’ll be off now…’ He held out his hand, offering it to Adam to shake. Adam looked at me, and then Patrick’s hand, and, without saying anything, he shook it.

Patrick gave me a ‘look’ that said something along the lines of ‘maybe we’ll talk in a couple of weeks when I’ve had a chance to process all this’, and then he left.

Adam looked at the closed door, and then at me. ‘Do I need to worry about this?’ he asked sincerely.

‘No,’ I replied, looking straight into his eyes. His beautiful eyes, one green and one brown: both sparkling.

‘Then I won’t,’ he said, and walked to the fridge, taking out the champagne and pouring himself a glass. ‘Because I trust you.’ He drained the entire glass in one mouthful, and then walked over to me. ‘I came to see how you’re settling in. To see if you like it here.’

‘I love it,’ I said, holding his arm.

‘Good.’ Adam pulled something out of his pocket and held it up to me. Another key. ‘You haven’t quite seen it
all
yet.’ He took me by the hand, and walked me into the bedroom. Beside the enormous walk-in wardrobe there was another door, which I’d assumed was a shoe cupboard, or another wardrobe, or something similar, and hadn’t gotten around to opening.
 

I noticed then that there was a lock on the door, and that Adam was about to open it. He put in the key, but before he turned, he stopped. He looked at me, stroked my cheek with his big, strong, palm, and said: ‘This is all for you.’

He undid the lock, and opened the door, and revealed to me what was inside.

I couldn’t believe it. The first thing I saw, on the far wall, was a huge, blown-up photograph, in black and white. At first, the smooth white expanses, and dark black lines meant nothing to me. They just looked like a beautiful shape. A river, or a desert, or a mountain, perhaps… And then I looked at the picture more closely. It was a picture of me. With the ropes wrapped exquisitely around my skin, tied in the most beautiful knots, making me into nothing short of a work of art.

‘Oh, Adam,’ I gasped. ‘It’s beautiful.’

Adam took my hand, and we stepped into the room, and that’s when I saw the rest. A gleaming scaffold of silver bars and rings attached to the walls and ceilings, and, on one wall, a cabinet full of beautiful ropes, in creams and browns and blacks, each one so tough, but so elegant. I wanted to feel them winding around my body, cradling me with their strength. I wanted to succumb to them all.

I turned around to Adam. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered.

‘We can use the room when you’re ready,’ he said. ‘Perhaps this weekend, or…’

I put my fingers to his lips, to make him quiet, and I took a few long, deep breaths. This man was my life now. I was going to show him how dedicated I was. I looked to my left, and noticed a table laid out with an assortment of whips and rods: leather and wood and metal. Some of the objects were things I’d never even seen before. Didn’t yet have a name for.

‘I want you to tie me up now,’ I whispered, ‘
Mr. Cooper
.’

I lifted off my dress, and stood before him in a bra, panties, and stockings. Then I knelt down in front of him, and undid his zipper. ‘Oh dear,’ I said, looking up at my stepbrother. ‘It seems like I’m being a very bad girl. A
very bad little sister
…’

I reached into his fly, and pulled out his cock, which was already hard and throbbing, waiting for me, and I took him into my mouth, and began to suck. As I did so, I felt Adam’s strong hands, reaching for my head, pulling my hair and making my scalp hurt. Then he pushed me all the way down to the ground, keeping his cock inside my mouth, pressing it down deep into my throat. And then, a few seconds later, he stood up, and walked away from me, leaving me writhing on the floor, open-mouthed.
 

I heard him open the cabinet, and saw him very carefully selecting a length of rope, and then he returned to me, his dick sprung high into the air, red and desperate. Yet he was going to deny himself of me. I knew that. He was going to tie this long, black rope, over every part of me, contort me into the most twisted, beautiful figure. He was going to whip me to an inch of my life.

And I was going to let him do it all to me. I was going to melt into the floor, and take whatever he wanted to give me. Because he was my stepbrother. And I was Rose Smith. The strongest woman in the world.

Liberty. Peace. Strength.

Love…