stepbrother two, jewel crotan [best ereader for textbooks txt] 📗

I knew the words were wrong before I even said them. But I didn’t care.

Being in bed with Avery last night, feeling her body close to mine, having her hands on my skin – it was too much temptation. And I didn’t do well with temptation.

Temptation, to me, was a wasted emotion. I had enough money and good looks to get whatever I wanted. What was the point of staying away from something that would give me pleasure?

It’s wrong, Cole. She’s your stepsister.

So? I argued with myself. Step wasn’t real sister.

You can’t expect her to strip for you. You can’t make that kind of demand -- that you get access to her body if she wants to live with you. She’s in trouble, Cole. It’s sick and twisted and fucked up.

The voice in my head was making sense, but I gave about this many fucks. And that’s to say, zero. I didn’t care.

Avery was in front of me, dressed in a tight little pair of jeans that showed off her round ass and full hips. Her hair fell in curls around her shoulders, and her tits were shoved into a t-shirt so tight I was afraid she was going to come busting out of it.

I ran my finger over the top of her skin where her shirt met her bra, letting my finger dip down just a tiny bit.

She shivered.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Cole, I can’t… that’s ridiculous.” She took a step back from me and laughed nervously. I knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to pretend I was joking.

But I wasn’t joking. I was dead serious.

I moved toward her until her back was up against my office door. “I’m not joking, Avery,” I said. “If you want to stay with me, I get to see you naked. Now strip.”

She bit her lip, and a look that was half excitement, half panic filled her eyes. It was wrong on so many levels, the fact that she was my sister, the fact that what I was doing could be considered sexual harassment, the fact that I was getting off on telling her what to do.

But I didn’t care.

I wanted her.

My desire for her knew no bounds, or limits, had no interest in what was right or wrong.

I ran my index finger over her bottom lip.

“Avery,” I said, my voice calm. “Take off your clothes.”

 I hated him.

I hated him because he was gorgeous and sexy and rich and most of all, because he left me when he was the only thing I had.

But right now, standing here in his office, I hated him because I wanted him.

I loved the way he was talking to me, loved that he was being forceful and demanding with me. The tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, the way he was acting like he knew he was going to end up getting what he wanted – all of it swirled together into an ache that permeated my whole body.

“I’m not taking off my clothes for you,” I said, but my voice was weak.

He seemed amused, his eyes raking up my body before he turned away and walked back over to his desk. He was wearing a dark suit that was perfectly tailored to his muscular frame, and I remembered how amazing his body had felt last night when he came into my room. My panties got wet as I remembered him sliding into bed next to me, how warm his body had felt, how he’d taken my hand and traced it over his tattoo, the one he’d gotten of my initials.

I waited now, my knees weak, as Cole stood by his desk, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. For a moment, I thought maybe he was going to call the whole thing off, that he was going to come to his senses and realize what he’d just asked of me was a horrible idea.

But instead, he reached up and began shutting the blinds. One by one, he moved slowly from window to window, until the office was completely shut off to the outside world. Then he walked back over to his desk and removed his suit coat, throwing it over the back of his chair before sitting down.

He sat there, just looking at me, for what felt like an excruciatingly long time.

The electricity in the air crackled and sparked, almost like it was alive.

“I’m not… Cole, I don’t….” I gathered my voice and looked at him. “I’m not going to take off my clothes for you.”

“Then you’re not going to stay with me.”

“Fine,” I said. “Then I’ll go stay somewhere else.”

He shrugged, like he could care less. Either that or he was calling my bluff. And it was a bluff. Because the truth was, the thought of Cole seeing me naked was a turn-on. And it was sick and fucked up, but it wasn’t just taking my clothes off for him that was getting me hot.

It was him making me do it.

I licked my lip, thinking about it. “How naked do I have to get?”

“As naked as I say.”

“And what do you say?” 

“Why don’t you start with your shirt?”

I took a deep breath and reached down, grabbing the bottom of my tight t-shirt and pulling it over my head. The bra I was wearing underneath was black and lacy, and the cups were almost see-through.

“God, you are beautiful,” Cole said, inhaling. “Come closer.”

I walked over to him, almost trembling as his eyes moved over my body. He reached out and brushed his hand across my bare stomach, his fingers dipping into the top of my jeans and sliding against the top of my panties.

I shivered, and the side of his mouth twitched into a grin, like he was enjoying the effect he was having on me. His fingertips slid up over my stomach, moving up my torso until he got to the bottom of my bra. He kept going, like he was going to reach up and over my breasts, but I grabbed his hand. “No touching.”

His eyes narrowed and flashed with anger. He was mad that I was contradicting him.

“You said you get to see my body, not touch it,” I said.

He paused before nodding, and I let out a sigh of relief. If he was determined to touch me, he could have -- and he knew it. I wasn’t sure if he was enjoying the torture of being able to look but not touch, or if he was just enjoying torturing me. Because as soon as his hands moved from my skin, I wished they were back on my body.

“Take off your jeans,” Cole said, leaning back in his chair.

I unbuttoned my pants, bending over and pulling them off.

“Turn around,” he growled. “Show me your ass.”

I turned around as I pulled my pants down, letting him get a full view of my ass in the tiny little thong I was wearing. The cool air hit my ass cheeks, an intense contrast to the heat that was pulsing through my body. I shivered again, as much from the air as the realization that I was standing here, in front of my stepbrother, in just my bra and panties.

I turned back around and stood in front of him, my nipples hardening and poking against the thin material of my bra.

“You are so fucking sexy. Just looking at you is getting my cock hard.” I looked down at he bulge in his pants, remembering how he felt last night, his dick hard against my ass. I remembered how I’d imagined what it would be like to feel him fucking me, his shaft pounding my pussy, how I’d lain there in the dark, unable to sleep until I’d touched myself, releasing the deep ache that permeated my being every time I was around him.

From out in the hallway came the sound of muted voices, and I tensed, realizing there were actual people out there, Cole’s employees, people who might come in and catch us. The voices got louder and then began to fade away, and I let out the breath I was holding.

“Nervous we’re going to get caught?” Cole asked.

“No,” I lied.

“Liar. Come closer.”

I walked back over to him.

“Sit on my desk.”

I backed up against the desk, gripped the sides with my hands and hoisted myself up, being careful not to put too much weight on my bad wrist. Cole reached over and grabbed my knees, forcing them apart until I was sitting spread eagle.

He took his time, his hands sliding down my legs, his fingertips grazing the inside of my thighs. I inhaled sharply at his touch, trying not to let him see how turned on I was.

“Take off your bra, Avery,” he said. “Show me your tits.”

I reached around and undid the hook on my bra, then hesitated, holding it in place over my breasts. Suddenly, I was scared. It was like everything up until this point had been a joke. Cole seeing me in my bra and panties was one thing – he’d seen me in a bathing suit at the strip club, and even though we were alone here in his office now and it was completely different, it had still somehow felt safe.

Taking off my bra, letting him see my bare breasts, felt like we were crossing some kind of invisible line, the kind of line that shouldn’t be crossed. Ever. Things would be different, and there’d be no way to ever change that.

“Cole…” I said, my arms still on my chest. “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Why not?” he said.

“Because you’re my stepbrother. And because it’s wrong.”

“And because you’re afraid what might happen?” he breathed. He stood up from his chair then, grabbed my ass and pulled me close against his body so that I was straddling him. I was still holding my arms across my chest, which provided a slight barrier, but only for my upper body.

His pelvis pressed into my panties, and I could feel his hardness against me, protected only by his pants and the thin layer of fabric of my underwear. He brushed my hair off my face, his eyes locked on mine.

“Are you afraid what might happen, Avery?” he whispered into my ear. The warmth of his breath made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Goosebumps broke out on my body and I almost gasped, that’s how magnetic he was.

“No,” I lied. “I’m not afraid what might happen.”

“You’re not afraid we might not be able to stop?” He began slowly grinding himself against me, and I could feel his cock pushed up against me, hard and big in his pants.

“Stop what?” I asked.

“Do you think I could stop myself from fucking you?” He pushed against me