Unleashed (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (47 page)

I can’t believe you sent porn to my email! You know they keep a record of everything you send over email…

When she doesn’t reply after ten minutes, I start getting curious about the video.

Fuck it. I’m going to watch it. Why not? I’ve got nothing else to do tonight, and I can’t be bothered to keep packing.

I start the video, and I immediately notice the different tone in this to other ones I’ve watched. It’s more sensual, a softer approach. Even the look is softer, the way it’s filmed. Less in-your-face detail, more suggestion.

The guy is actually pretty hot for once, and him and the girl are kissing and caressing passionately. She’s not some ridiculous blonde bimbo with gigantic fake tits, and he’s not some roided-up meathead with a red face and popping veins in his neck who looks like he’s about to have a coronary.

I watch as they feel each other up, remove each other’s clothes. I watch as she grips onto his cock, starts to slowly pump him. There’s something almost…
voyeuristic
about the way it’s filmed.

Their bodies are pressed together, a hard embrace, and she’s jerking him in between them. His hands are on her ass, groping, lifting, fingers running lower to pull through her folds.

I realize that I’m getting pretty into it. I mean… it’s hot. It’s surprisingly hot.

I flash back to Chance’s fingers running through my folds, when he first starts teasing me, when he first starts to make me feel good. I’m lying against his hard body, his arms are around me, his hands under my dress, moving slowly, tantalizingly slowly.

I’m pushing my head back into him, opening my legs wider, curling my toes in my pumps, nearly oblivious to the fact that we are out in public, on the beach, in broad daylight.

Sitting in my chair, watching this video, I’m getting hot. I feel flushed in my cheeks. The temperature seems to have risen.

The woman in the porn video is now being gone down on by the man. She’s undulating her body, grasping onto her breasts, moaning and writhing in pleasure.

I think of how I writhed and squirmed in Chance’s arms as he brought me to the most explosive climax I’d ever had, and just with his fingers.

His strong arms held me, protective, enveloping. His hand was buried beneath my underwear, fingers playing me like an instrument, plucking strings of pleasure so deep inside me I didn’t know I had them.

I had tried to stay silent, but I couldn’t. It was too much. The big ball of pressure in my belly pulled sounds from my mouth against my will.

Somehow, I didn’t want him to get the satisfaction of knowing he made me feel good. And on the other side of it, oh, God, I wanted him to know he made me feel good.

On the video the porn girl and guy shift positions, and they start to sixty-nine each other. The camera changes angles, and I watch as she sucks on his manhood, pumps it up and down. Then I see the other side, and he’s fingering her with one hand while simultaneously licking her clit.

I can’t believe how aroused I am at watching this video. I am totally not into seeing other women naked, but it’s getting me all wound-up. It’s totally different to other videos I’ve seen. All the other videos I’ve seen just have beefcake men endlessly thrusting into screaming women. This one is different.

They shift positions again, and so do I. I’ve got my feet on the table, knees open, and my hand is resting on my belly. I think of Chance again. I think of him going down on me.

I think of him eating me out, his warm lips and tongue lapping at my sex like he can’t get enough of me.

I’m half watching the video, half fantasizing about Chance Hudson. I want to get angry at myself but I can’t. I just can’t. I like him… oh, God, I like him a
lot.

Even though I know I shouldn’t, even though I know letting myself go down this path will just lead to inevitable disappointment one way or another, I can’t stop myself.

Before I know it, my hand is no longer on my belly, but it’s in between my legs, and I’m touching myself. It’s like the world melts away.

All I’ve got is this video, and all I want is Chance.

I moan softly to myself, let my eyes flutter closed. I imagine I’m down at the beach again, and Chance is behind me, and he’s the one rubbing me. It’s his fingers granting me pleasure.

It’s his fingers that are going to send me soaring, make my whole body crunch up as that huge and heady wave of pleasure crashes over me, shocks my senses, makes me breathe hard and cry out in bliss.

That’s when I hear it. That’s when my world comes to a screeching halt.

“This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

It’s Chance’s voice.

My body is frozen. I slap the spacebar key to pause the video, and in the reflection on the monitor I see him standing in my open doorway.

Why, oh why didn’t I close the door? Because nobody is home! Oh, I can’t believe this is happening to me.

I pull my skirt down, put my legs down, and press my knees together. I swivel the chair around, even though I don’t want to. I turn to face him, knowing I can’t hide from this, knowing I can’t just vanish into thin air.

My cheeks are burning. I know he’s going to have that stupid and annoying smirk on his face. I know he’s going to have some smartass thing to say.

But what else can I do? It’s not like I can just pretend he’s not there. It’s silly to think that maybe if I sit still for long enough, don’t turn around for long enough, he’ll just disappear.

“What are you doing in my house, Chance?” I ask as I turn, finally meeting his eyes. I try to imbue my glare with stony indifference, like I don’t care that he just caught me touching myself to porn.

That’s when I notice that he’s not really smiling. No, he’s got another look on his face… something hungry, something I saw at the beach.

“I saw your door was open as I was driving past. I came to check on you, since I know you’re alone these days.”

It must have been Jess who left the front door open. God, so this is all her fault!

“I’m fine,” I say, looking anywhere but his eyes. My ears are now on fire in addition to my cheeks, and I’m trying to get angry at him, trying to find some way to displace my embarrassment into some less awkward emotion, but I find that I can’t.

A silence falls between us, and that’s when I notice that he has a hard-on. I can see the outline of his cock through his jeans.

I look up at his eyes, feel this insane urge to just rush over and kiss him, and as I shift in my seat, he shakes his head.

“Don’t get up.”

I blink. “I, uh—”

“Keep going.”

I bunch my brow and shake my head. “What?”

He nods at the computer monitor. “Keep going. I want to watch you.”

A storm rages in my mind. Half of me for some crazy reason wants to do it, wants to let him watch me. It makes me feel sexy that he wants to, makes me feel desired… even a little naughty.

The other half of my mind is horrified at the thought of…
performing
for him.

My heart is thumping in my chest. I can hear it like the hooves of a racehorse. Blood is roaring in my ears. It’s like there is a hurricane around me.

I’m breathing quickly, but I realize that my ears aren’t burning any more.

I realize that, for some stupid reason, this is what I want. He keeps calling me little-miss-smart but I’m anything but if I want this. I know it’s stupid because he’s bad for me, because sooner or later, I’m going to get hurt.

Either he’ll hurt me, disappoint me, or I’ll leave to England, and never see him again.

But, oh God I so want what’s bad for me. Chance is bad for me. There is no possible way in this universe that he can ever be good for me.

It’s idiotic.

I want him because he drives me crazy. I don’t want him to leave my room. I want him to watch me.

And I want to watch him.

“Only if you do,” I say. My voice is barely a whisper. I’m putting myself out there. I’m walking the plank. I’m stepping onto that tightrope with no harness or safety net.

“Okay,” he says, without hesitation. “But I want to see your body.”

“I want to see yours,” I counter. It’s the truth. It was always the truth.

We stare at each other, a pregnant pause, and then he’s pulling his t-shirt off his amazing body, and I watch as his carved, lean lines come into view.

He nods at me, fire in his eyes, and I pull my tank top up over me, and unhook my bra. It’s the first time I’ve ever been naked in front of a boy, but somehow I don’t feel the sting of modesty.

He’s working at his belt buckle next, and when he steps out of his jeans, I see the shape of his manhood pressing through his tight boxer-briefs.

“Your turn,” he says, and so I unbutton and unzip my pleated skirt, and pull it down over my legs. I’m still sitting in the chair, and he’s standing up in the doorway.

The words leave my mouth, but it’s like it’s not me that’s speaking them: “Come closer.”

Naked but for his underwear, he steps toward me. I watch as his whip-cord tight body ripples, as I can see each muscle flex and relax as he walks. His tattoos give his whole right side of his body a darkened edge, and they’re sexy looking, accentuating his figure.

I nod at his underwear, and he removes it, pulling it down. His cock springs out from a tuft of trimmed pubic hair, thick, dripping pre-cum.

He’s pretty damn big. Definitely bigger than the guy I was just watching in the video.

I pull my own underwear off, and just as I’m about to drop it to the floor he sticks out his hand.

“Give it to me.”

I look at him with horror. He wants my
underwear?

But then my gaze trails down his body. The sight of him naked makes something rumble deep inside me, and my eyes settle on his hard cock.

I hand him my underwear – so glad I wasn’t wearing a ratty old pair, or, heaven forbid, granny panties – and watch as he presses them against his nose and inhales my scent.

“You smell amazing,” he groans, and he brings his other hand down to wrap around his cock, and he starts pumping himself.

I just sit there, staring, watching him while he jerks himself off, watching as his stomach muscles crunch, as his arms flex, as he works himself while he smells me.

So I start to touch myself, too. I turn to face him fully, and I don’t bother with the video. We won’t need it.

I’m turned on like I’ve never been before. He’s putting on a show for me, and I am determined to put one on for him as well.

I lift my feet up onto the chair, spread my knees, and begin to rub my clit. He watches me out of hungry eyes, and I watch him out of hungry eyes.

His cock looks really nice. I don’t know how else to describe it; it’s just a nice looking cock. He steps closer to me, close enough that I’m sure he can smell me, smell my arousal, see just how swollen I am.

I’m moaning softly as I touch myself, as I feel that spring coiling, that ball of energy inside me expanding. It’s in my belly, growing outward, and I know it’s not going to take me long.

“Yeah,” he says, staring at my sex. It’s like he can’t get enough of it. It makes me feel a thump of excitement in my chest. It makes me feel desired. It makes me feel sexy.