Step F*@K: Part Two (A Stepbrother Series Book 2)

Contents

Copyright

Step Fuck

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

About

Copyright © 2015 by Scarlett Ward

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Cover design by Amelia Harrison

B O O K
 
T W O
 

I wake up with a pounding headache and nausea swirling up and down my midsection. I can taste bile in my mouth and I’m afraid that when I open my eyes I’m going to find myself in a giant puddle of puke. But the sheets underneath me feel relatively dry, so I open one eye, then the other. My senses are immediately assaulted by the bright sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains, and also by the heavy, pungent odor of grease. I open my eyes all the way and see, less than a foot away from me on the bedside table, what looks to be a bacon cheeseburger and a mountain of now cold, limp looking fries. There is a puddle of congealed grease on the edge of the plate. There’s one large, moon-shaped bite taken out of the burger, revealing it’s brownish-pink center. Just the sight of it is enough to induce a puke session, never mind the smell. I turn away, head throbbing in protest.
 

It suddenly occurs to me that I’m not in my own bed. This isn’t my apartment. The walls aren’t familiar, the bed is too hard.
Where the hell am I?
I sit up, the sheet falls off, and I realize that I am completely naked and in some stranger’s bed.
 

Slowly, a few details filter back.

Jai.
 

Drinks.
 

Sex.
 

More drinks.

More sex.
 

I may even have a vague recollection of declaring myself famished, after the third or fourth time we’d done it, and in dire need of room service. That recollection develops into a more solid memory of myself, jumping up and down on the bed, demanding, in no uncertain terms, that I needed
protein
. And Jai grinning, lying there, looking up at me as I bounced around, saying he could give me all the protein I wanted. I remember blowing him while we waited for room service, and I don’t remember much else afterwards.
Fuck.

I groan inwardly, in case he’s here, lurking. But it’s quiet, and it doesn’t
feel
like there’s someone else in the room, though I know better than to trust my senses, at this point. What
have I done?
I look around for my clothes but I don’t see them. Did he take my clothes? Am I going to have to wear this sheet like a toga in order to get back to my apartment? Slink down through the hotel lobby and somehow manage to hail a cab? Can I crawl out the window and scale the side of the building, SpiderGirl style? Is there a fire alarm I could pull so the whole place has to evacuate before I gracefully sneak out with the crowd? I feel paralyzed, overwhelmed by everything, scared that he’s going to come back here and demand an encore. Now that the alcohol’s worn off and left me feeling like I was reversed over by an eighteen-wheeler, I know I need to get out of here, and I need to get out of here
now
. But I’m tired. And dizzy. And I could really just put my head back on the soft pillow and pass out for a couple more hours…

It’s the urge to pee that finally gets me going, though. Everything is still quiet, so I assume the coast is clear. I scurry into the bathroom and sit on the toilet, my bladder feeling like it’s about to explode. I sit there for several seconds. Nothing happens. A few more agonizing moments go by, and though my bladder feels like it’s expanding by the second, I still can’t pee. What the hell? Did he give me a UTI? An STD? Did we have so much sex that he somehow rearranged my insides and I’ll have to have a catheter and be attached to a pee-bag for the rest of my life?
 

“Fuck!” I say, squirming on the cool porcelain seat.
 

But finally, it happens. It’s a slow, painful dribble at first, but then it gets going, and I swear, I pee for at least ninety seconds. My head is still pulsing like an angry drum and my tongue is basically a dry leather strap, but now that I’ve peed, I feel as though I can at least get it together enough to find my clothes and make a quiet escape before Jai returns.
 

I make the mistake of looking at the partially eaten burger as I’m searching for my dress. My stomach clenches and I grab the wastebasket and hold my head over it. I cough several times, but nothing comes up, and then the feeling passes. I actually feel rather hungry, which makes sense, considering the last time I ate was lunch yesterday and that was just a Caesar salad. I close my eyes and drop the burger into the wastebasket so I don’t have to look at it, then I begin to eat the fries. Ah, blessed carbs. I start picking one fry up at a time, but then I’m eating them by the handful. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good.
 

I’m so caught up in eating that I don’t hear him return, and when he says, “Breakfast of champions?” I jump, dropping a handful of fries all over my lap. I turn, realize I’m still naked, and hug my arms across my chest so he can’t see my breasts. He’s holding a coffee cup and he looks well rested and healthy.
 

Jai smiles. “While I find your newfound shyness rather cute, there really is no need for modesty right now, seeing as I had my mouth all over those last night.” He gestures to my breasts with one hand and holds the cup out with the other, tendrils of steam rising off of it. “Tea. And I brought you a packet of aspirin; I figured you might need it.”
Still keeping one arm across my chest, I take the cup from him. “I’m actually more of a coffee drinker,” I say.
 

“Of course you are,” he replies. That accent is still as hot as it was last night.
Damn, he’s sexy
. “You’re American. And you’re eating cold chips for breakfast. Can’t get much more American than that. Would you like me to go get you a muffin? I really can’t let you be eating those chips . . . they look terrible.”

“They’re actually rather good.”
 

“Let me go get you a muffin, darling. Here, try the tea.”
 

I take a tiny sip of the tea. It’s way too hot, but it actually tastes good, slightly sweet and more mellow than coffee. I can’t remember the last time I had tea.
 

“I’ll go do that,” he says. “After the night we had last night, you need something a little more nourishing that those chips for breakfast. Fries, I mean.”

“Okay,” I say. A muffin would be good. “Thanks.”

He smiles and kisses the top of my head. “You are something,” he says, before he exits.
 

The second the door has shut, I start looking for my dress, which I find, tangled up in the comforter, halfway under the bed. I also find my bra, but my underwear appears to be MIA. Oh well. I slip the bra and dress on, then go into the bathroom and splash a little cold water on my face.
 

My phone dings as I’m coming out of the bathroom. Shit. It’s probably Megan and she’s probably freaking out. I don’t even know what time it is. But when I look at the screen, it’s actually a text from my mother.
 

Can’t believe the big day is so soon!!! Just wanted to remind you about the dinner tonight, though I’m sure you haven’t forgotten. And I really would appreciate it if you would wear that dress I bought you for your birthday. The one you told me you took to the dry cleaner’s for this very occasion? Your sister landed safe and sound, and I’d like you to meet us at our hotel before the dinner, so we can all arrive together. Why don’t you plan on getting here around six.
 

Shit. The dinner. I didn’t forget about it, exactly, but my plan for the rest of today had been to go home, take a long shower, and pass out for the next twelve to twenty-four hours.
 

Haven’t forgotten!
I write back. I still need to get that dress from the dry cleaners.
Glad to hear Jessica arrived safely; I know how much she hates to fly.
 

Her reply is instantaneous.
Don’t forget your dress!

I’ll try not to.
 

I put my phone back in my purse and take another sip of tea. My headache seems to be pulsating in time with my heartbeat. I go over to the little writing table where Jai left the travel packet of aspirin. These will help, maybe. I’m trying to tear the packet open with my teeth when something catches my eye. There’s an assortment of stuff on the table: an iPad, his wallet, a little pile of loose change, a piece of paper, folded in quarters. Right next to that paper is a gold band. A man’s wedding ring.
 

A wedding ring.
 

I put the unopened packet of aspirin down and pick up the ring. I hold it on the palm of my hand. There is no doubt about it—this is a man’s wedding ring. Great. I just slept with a married man.
I’m going to be sick.

I’m tempted to throw the thing out the window, or flush it down the toilet, but instead, I put it back down, exactly where I found it. I wrack my brain, trying to remember if he mentioned anything last night about being single, or what it said on his profile, but then I realize that doesn’t matter—if he’s cheating on his wife, he’s obviously a liar. I don’t even care if his wife is a raging bitch or if she hasn’t had sex with him in months—dishonesty like that is sickening. It’s just what Tom did.
 

I grab my purse and am about to walk out the door when it opens, and there’s Jai, with a blueberry muffin.
 

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