Read Online Crude: A Stepbrother Romance by Aubrey Irons - Free Book Online

makes a face; “Well, suit yourself princess. You know where to find me.”

    *****

    I’m lounging in the shallow end, smoking cigarettes and drinking a beer when I hear the door to the patio open behind me. I whirl, dipping the beer beneath the edge of the pool on instinct, but then I practically drop the cigarette from my lips.

    It’s Paige . She’s wearing this one-piece bathing suit, but what a one-piece. She’s standing there looking awkward and twisting a towel around in her hands, but damn does that girl rock the shit out of that piece of lyrca. The thing hugs every curve, slipping high over her hips and tight across her tits in a way that has me suddenly glad my lap is under the water right now.

    “ What? ”

    I blink and drag my eyes away from her perfect body up to her eyes, which are frowning, per usual; “Huh?”

    “You’re staring.”

    I shrug; “You look fuckin’ hot.”

    Paige’s face goes dark red and she starts to turn back for the door.

    “Oh c’mon!” I laugh; “Stay, I’ll be good, I promise.”

    She turns and shoots me this skeptical look like she doesn't believe me

    She shouldn't.  

    “Beer?” I hold a can her way as she slinks down the steps into the water.

    “Um, no ? Hello? We’re eighteen?”

    “Suit yourself,” I shrug, cracking a fresh one.

    Paige stands in the middle of the pool, eyeing me and watching me drink from the can; “Ok, fine ,” She finally says, shaking her head; “Give me one.”

    I laugh; “You sure you can handle it?”

    “I can handle it just fine, thank you very much.”

    Right, like princess honor-roll, debate-team, model-U.N. is some sort of seasoned drinker.

    But she cracks the beer none-the-less, and even takes a seat on the submerged bench on the side of the pool next to me. And somehow, after that it’s just normal . I’m not trying to needle under her skin, she’s not being frosty to me, and we’re just two teenagers doing what teenagers do in the summer. We’re cracking jokes about terrible pop-songs, I’m telling her about bikes, and she’s explaining traditional counterpoint in classical music to me, even if it is basically Martian to my ears.

    The sun starts to dip low in the afternoon, and as we just sit there, getting closer and having fun, I realize that I’m honestly having the best time I’ve had since mom moved us into chez-Joseph.

    And of course, that has pretty much everything to do with the girl sitting next to me; her long red hair pulled back in a ponytail, her blue eyes twinkling, the freckles across her nose looking adorable, and her perfect pink lips pulled back in a wide grin as she laughs at something I say.  

    She laughs again, and the movement has her throwing her head back and suddenly her knee is touching mine like some sort of electric spark through the water. I’m still grinning at her, but I’m frozen inside; every single synapse inside my head focused on the point where our skin touches. Her knee is smooth, and warm, and the place where we touch like that feels this buzzing sensation that slowly creeps through my whole body. And I’m waiting for her to pull back; to realize what her knee is against and move it away.

    But she doesn’t.

    Bad idea; real bad fucking idea.

    But all I can think about is the smoothness of that skin against mine. All I can think about is that heat building there, as if that one-inch patch of skin is a match being held against a powder-keg ready to blow.

    She smiles again as she looks up at me and pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear, as if she’s totally oblivious of the effect that small touch is having on me. But that one little motion of tucking her hair back like that is the final straw for me, and I just go for it.

    I drop my hand down to her knee - to both our knees, really - and just let it sit there. She freezes for a moment, stiffening slightly, but she’s not moving away, and instead she just casually takes a sip of her beer.

    “So, put