Read Online Break Me: A Stepbrother Romance by Julie Kriss - Free Book Online
Authors: Julie Kriss
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scream.”
He ran his hands over my soaked t-shirt, bold and possessive. He dragged them up and cupped my breasts, pressing him like he owned them, like he owned me. Then he stepped back, picked up his t-shirt from the ground, and walked away.
It was twenty minutes before I stopped shaking. I realized I was on the knife edge of an orgasm, and if he'd ground into me one more time, I would have come. That was how easy I was. That was how desperate.
And still, I wasn't ashamed. I was free.
I walked back into the store to dry off. I had a decision to make.
Chapter Seven
B ram
I spent the next five days working as hard as I could to keep my mind straight. I did long, punishing runs at the local high school track, doing laps until I nearly fell down. I installed a chin-up bar in my bedroom at Nate’s, and I’d get up early to do a round of sit-ups, push-ups, and chin-ups as my body came to life. I could have joined a gym, but I didn’t have the money, and doing the reps in my bedroom reminded me of doing the reps in my cell on my endless stretch of jail time.
It felt good to flex my muscles. I liked to feel strong, which gave me the illusion of being in control. Like I could control anything that was happening in my wreck of a life.
After the early morning workout, I’d go to Nate’s body shop and work some more. Nate had never said anything about the money missing from the safe, and I’d reluctantly decided that he must know something I didn’t. Either that or he’d taken the money himself. It was his right as the business owner, but it seemed odd, since I learned that Nate already paid himself a salary out of the business, on the books just like the rest of us, and he didn’t seem to need much money.
But something was wrong. The more I lived with Nate and worked in his garage, the more I saw it. The man I had known six years ago, the man who had religiously kept in touch with me while I did time as if he gave a shit, had changed. Something was wearing him down, and it wasn’t just the broken leg, which was healing too slowly for his liking. His mood always got worse after some twenty-year-old punk had been in the body shop, getting his car fixed. Why the kid’s car needed fixing so often, I had no idea, but his visits always made Nate short-tempered and irritable. I asked one of the other shop guys who the kid was, and was told he was the mayor’s son. I had no idea why the mayor’s son rubbed Nate the wrong way, and no one volunteered to tell me.
I started to see that Summer had been right to worry about her dad.
Summer. I couldn’t think about her right now. I couldn’t. She should have slapped me for the things I’d said to her, the filth I’d growled in her ear. She should have kicked me right in the nuts. I would have deserved it. The least she deserved was for me to stay away.
But it didn’t matter. She was inside me, like a virus. No matter how many miles or how many reps I did, she never left me. I was at some crazy fever pitch, my balls so blue they practically glowed, unable to get relief no matter how many times I jerked off, unwilling to go find another woman. It was either her, or go crazy. Maybe both.
Her lips on my thumb. She’d sucked it like she was born to it. Good God.
I found myself alone on Saturday night. Nate had gone out to play cards with a few of his buddies, the shop was closed, and I had no friends. I knocked around Nate’s house for a while, restless as a tiger in a zoo. I thought about going for a run, going out to get laid, even getting drunk. I could hit the liquor store, buy a bottle of vodka, and try to knock myself out cold. I hadn’t had a drink since going in the shitter—not a drink, not a toke, nothing. I had my reasons.
But tonight I was so crazy I was tempted. The air was hot, unmoving, waiting for a summer storm to move in. There was nothing on TV. I already knew I could get in the shower and jerk off until my dick was sore, and I wouldn’t feel any
He ran his hands over my soaked t-shirt, bold and possessive. He dragged them up and cupped my breasts, pressing him like he owned them, like he owned me. Then he stepped back, picked up his t-shirt from the ground, and walked away.
It was twenty minutes before I stopped shaking. I realized I was on the knife edge of an orgasm, and if he'd ground into me one more time, I would have come. That was how easy I was. That was how desperate.
And still, I wasn't ashamed. I was free.
I walked back into the store to dry off. I had a decision to make.
Chapter Seven
B ram
I spent the next five days working as hard as I could to keep my mind straight. I did long, punishing runs at the local high school track, doing laps until I nearly fell down. I installed a chin-up bar in my bedroom at Nate’s, and I’d get up early to do a round of sit-ups, push-ups, and chin-ups as my body came to life. I could have joined a gym, but I didn’t have the money, and doing the reps in my bedroom reminded me of doing the reps in my cell on my endless stretch of jail time.
It felt good to flex my muscles. I liked to feel strong, which gave me the illusion of being in control. Like I could control anything that was happening in my wreck of a life.
After the early morning workout, I’d go to Nate’s body shop and work some more. Nate had never said anything about the money missing from the safe, and I’d reluctantly decided that he must know something I didn’t. Either that or he’d taken the money himself. It was his right as the business owner, but it seemed odd, since I learned that Nate already paid himself a salary out of the business, on the books just like the rest of us, and he didn’t seem to need much money.
But something was wrong. The more I lived with Nate and worked in his garage, the more I saw it. The man I had known six years ago, the man who had religiously kept in touch with me while I did time as if he gave a shit, had changed. Something was wearing him down, and it wasn’t just the broken leg, which was healing too slowly for his liking. His mood always got worse after some twenty-year-old punk had been in the body shop, getting his car fixed. Why the kid’s car needed fixing so often, I had no idea, but his visits always made Nate short-tempered and irritable. I asked one of the other shop guys who the kid was, and was told he was the mayor’s son. I had no idea why the mayor’s son rubbed Nate the wrong way, and no one volunteered to tell me.
I started to see that Summer had been right to worry about her dad.
Summer. I couldn’t think about her right now. I couldn’t. She should have slapped me for the things I’d said to her, the filth I’d growled in her ear. She should have kicked me right in the nuts. I would have deserved it. The least she deserved was for me to stay away.
But it didn’t matter. She was inside me, like a virus. No matter how many miles or how many reps I did, she never left me. I was at some crazy fever pitch, my balls so blue they practically glowed, unable to get relief no matter how many times I jerked off, unwilling to go find another woman. It was either her, or go crazy. Maybe both.
Her lips on my thumb. She’d sucked it like she was born to it. Good God.
I found myself alone on Saturday night. Nate had gone out to play cards with a few of his buddies, the shop was closed, and I had no friends. I knocked around Nate’s house for a while, restless as a tiger in a zoo. I thought about going for a run, going out to get laid, even getting drunk. I could hit the liquor store, buy a bottle of vodka, and try to knock myself out cold. I hadn’t had a drink since going in the shitter—not a drink, not a toke, nothing. I had my reasons.
But tonight I was so crazy I was tempted. The air was hot, unmoving, waiting for a summer storm to move in. There was nothing on TV. I already knew I could get in the shower and jerk off until my dick was sore, and I wouldn’t feel any
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