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Book: HIM—A Stepbrother Romance: With BONUS NOVELLA: PERSONAL by Stephanie Brother
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Authors: Stephanie Brother
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one thing was for certain, I certainly was not a Victoria’s Secret model like his ex girlfriend, or any of other Hollywood starlets he dated.
It didn’t matter. This was just going to be like a hook-up, right? My last moment of glory before he and I went our separate ways as the estate was finalized and my mother moved on with her life? Right?
He went to get library books. For me. A gesture that’s cost him a swollen ankle. Surely that means something. Something…
Nervous but curious of what would happen next, I grabbed my flute and drank it quickly before setting it back down, emptying it. It was so surreal. Everything. And I didn’t know what to do or how to behave. Seduction wasn’t my thing. I felt like prey, a little rabbit in the hands of a skilled hunter. I didn’t mind to be skinned alive by him. All these built-up feelings and denial came flooding in like floodgates of Niagara Falls.
The distance and time away was like an ironclad chastity belt over my feelings: safe, secure, and not one ounce of a chance of being in harm’s way.
He held the key now and all possibility of safety went out the window.
He didn’t miss a beat. As I mentioned, science experiment. And like that, he slid a bit across the marble underwater bench to reach for more champagne, a gesture that caused his face to contort a bit from the obvious pain he was in from his-- oh shit, I totally forgot-- his ankle!
He could be missing a freaking leg and I wouldn’t have noticed. All I could think about was him being so hard. For me . I bit my lip again and quickly stammered in concern, “You, um, you should really ice that ankle. Isn’t, like, heat the worst for it?”
“I’ll ice it in a bit.” He was smirking, damn it, as he suddenly stood up on one leg giving me a full good look at it, as if he knew exaaaaaaaactly what he was going. Oh, he freaking knew. Holy mother, Moses, Josephine, and Jesus on a twelve layered wedding cake, I…uh…all of the blood from my heart rushed to particular two places, my face surely beet red, and down below, just straight to my lady center like a one way ticket from New York to Paris but on the express jet plane at rocket speed.
All the rumors of the celebrities and models, they notoriously talked about his member. Especially the drunken playmate on that stupid Howard Stern show. I know, I know…I wasn’t supposed to “know” any of this. But occasionally, I just knew and heard from friends in school who obviously didn’t know we were related. We don’t have the last name and, like I said, I acted like a way normal person unrelated to billions of dollars by marriage.
But now? Acting normal after I saw it in person? Holy hell no.
But they were definitely right. It was definitely long, and definitely thick. Of course it was. He was perfect. A Greek freaking god. Of course he acted the way he did in life with a cock like that.
I sat frozen like I swear a blow fish acts in the ocean when a giant great white shark passes by; it freezes and acts like it’s just a background in the murky waters. Yeah right.
Could I act like what I just saw didn’t faze me? Could I act unfazed? So I did my best. But not for long!!
Ugh!
Oh my god! I just saw Bradly Rainshaw’s HU-MONGOUS penis! I wanted to scream and tell all of my best friends from Texas.
He refilled my flute and set the Cristal back on the tray all the while with a goofy grin. But cocky, definitely cocky like the badass he was as if he was thinking, “Oh yeah, you know you want it.”
Oh, I do! I do!
Well, if he was going to play that game…I sat up just a bit straighter so that my nipples were just parallel to the water.
“Thank you.” I made sure to say it in a deeper voice, a more seductive one, like Scarlett Johansson, and I gave him a daring smile as if I didn’t notice “it” at all. But oh, he noticed my sitting up straight alright, as his dark eyelashes glanced down, and his chin did a slight nod. I could tell by the way
It didn’t matter. This was just going to be like a hook-up, right? My last moment of glory before he and I went our separate ways as the estate was finalized and my mother moved on with her life? Right?
He went to get library books. For me. A gesture that’s cost him a swollen ankle. Surely that means something. Something…
Nervous but curious of what would happen next, I grabbed my flute and drank it quickly before setting it back down, emptying it. It was so surreal. Everything. And I didn’t know what to do or how to behave. Seduction wasn’t my thing. I felt like prey, a little rabbit in the hands of a skilled hunter. I didn’t mind to be skinned alive by him. All these built-up feelings and denial came flooding in like floodgates of Niagara Falls.
The distance and time away was like an ironclad chastity belt over my feelings: safe, secure, and not one ounce of a chance of being in harm’s way.
He held the key now and all possibility of safety went out the window.
He didn’t miss a beat. As I mentioned, science experiment. And like that, he slid a bit across the marble underwater bench to reach for more champagne, a gesture that caused his face to contort a bit from the obvious pain he was in from his-- oh shit, I totally forgot-- his ankle!
He could be missing a freaking leg and I wouldn’t have noticed. All I could think about was him being so hard. For me . I bit my lip again and quickly stammered in concern, “You, um, you should really ice that ankle. Isn’t, like, heat the worst for it?”
“I’ll ice it in a bit.” He was smirking, damn it, as he suddenly stood up on one leg giving me a full good look at it, as if he knew exaaaaaaaactly what he was going. Oh, he freaking knew. Holy mother, Moses, Josephine, and Jesus on a twelve layered wedding cake, I…uh…all of the blood from my heart rushed to particular two places, my face surely beet red, and down below, just straight to my lady center like a one way ticket from New York to Paris but on the express jet plane at rocket speed.
All the rumors of the celebrities and models, they notoriously talked about his member. Especially the drunken playmate on that stupid Howard Stern show. I know, I know…I wasn’t supposed to “know” any of this. But occasionally, I just knew and heard from friends in school who obviously didn’t know we were related. We don’t have the last name and, like I said, I acted like a way normal person unrelated to billions of dollars by marriage.
But now? Acting normal after I saw it in person? Holy hell no.
But they were definitely right. It was definitely long, and definitely thick. Of course it was. He was perfect. A Greek freaking god. Of course he acted the way he did in life with a cock like that.
I sat frozen like I swear a blow fish acts in the ocean when a giant great white shark passes by; it freezes and acts like it’s just a background in the murky waters. Yeah right.
Could I act like what I just saw didn’t faze me? Could I act unfazed? So I did my best. But not for long!!
Ugh!
Oh my god! I just saw Bradly Rainshaw’s HU-MONGOUS penis! I wanted to scream and tell all of my best friends from Texas.
He refilled my flute and set the Cristal back on the tray all the while with a goofy grin. But cocky, definitely cocky like the badass he was as if he was thinking, “Oh yeah, you know you want it.”
Oh, I do! I do!
Well, if he was going to play that game…I sat up just a bit straighter so that my nipples were just parallel to the water.
“Thank you.” I made sure to say it in a deeper voice, a more seductive one, like Scarlett Johansson, and I gave him a daring smile as if I didn’t notice “it” at all. But oh, he noticed my sitting up straight alright, as his dark eyelashes glanced down, and his chin did a slight nod. I could tell by the way
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