Billion Dollar Bastard: An Alpha Male Step Brother Billionaire Romance (11 page)

KYLE

Not that I had anyone to tell about it, but I had just made four-hundred and twenty six million dollars.

“Thanks, Nicholas,” I said, lounging on the terrace surrounding the hotel suite on two sides, looking out over the French Quarter. “We can announce the sale on Monday. Right at the start of trading. Give everyone an exciting week.”

“This is chump change for you at this point, isn’t it?” Nicholas laughed. We had finally sold a Russian oil firm I had bought three years ago. It had been my baby, carefully repairing all the nasty decisions of twenty years of post-Cold War hangover.

“It sure as hell doesn’t hurt, I’ll tell you that,” I said coolly, sipping my scotch.

“How’s the vacation?”

“Well, I’m having a lovely time,” I said with a shrug. “Great view of the city. Had a great plate of crawfish. Great workout: beat my deadlift personal best. And…”

“And Karen?”

“Disappeared right away into the archives,” I said with a sigh.

“That’s what you wanted.”

“Is it?”

“It is. She’s doing what she wants. Let her. She’s an intelligent woman. You’ve done all you have to. She’ll come to you if she wants you now.”

“But…”

“But nothing.”

I scowled. It would be so much easier if Karen were like other girls, if I could wave a few hundreds in front of her face—if the scent of money got her wet like any other girl in any Manhattan night club on any night of the week.

But no. The only paper that excited her had to be buried in an archive in the middle of a dusty, boring old library.

Still, it was better than heroin. That was my last wife’s mistake.

Wife. Karen would make a good wife. Just on a practical level, of course. Doesn’t drink too much. No drugs. Good, respectable job. Keeps herself busy. Beautiful—knows how to wear a dress, or rock a pair of jeans, and anything in between.

God. Slow down, cowboy. There’s nothing still. Nothing at all. It hasn’t gone anywhere yet.

Besides… Marriage didn’t seem like something I could do again. Liana had cut me deep. I hated that and I wished I could hate her, but she was too broken to hate. So, instead, I hated myself for going along with it, for being a stupid young kid who was just excited to have a pretty girl paying attention to me, even if it was only because I gave her money and didn’t ask what it was for.

But… Karen would never do that.

No, she’d never do that because we would never be anything. This was a fine adventure, but I should probably let it die: we’d go out to dinner tonight, enjoy some fine Cajun food, have a few laughs. I’d ask how her mother was doing, pretend to listen to her stories about whatever it was she was researching, and so on and so forth.

Then, we’re return to the hotel. She’d give me a chaste kiss on the cheek and then we’d both drift off to our respective rooms for dinner. I’d stay up and work and look at new cars to buy if I really got bored. I’ve had my eye on a vintage Benz for the last few years… And, of course, I can easily afford it, but if you go around buying everything you want, you’ll bankrupt yourself right away. No, I had been waiting for a special occasion to treat myself and this sale, this business with the Russian oil firm—this seemed like the perfect occasion. A perfect time to take a step back and enjoy the nice things I could buy myself.

After all, that was all I really had, wasn’t it?

Myself.

Kyle. Kyle and no one else.

I had really ought to get used to being alone. Things would be so much better if I were fine with it, if I were fine with just sipping my scotch alone on the balcony, looking out over the French Quarter.

I heard the door to the suite click open. I expected it would be the hotel staff, offering turn down service.

I staggered heavily to my feet, the scotch weighing on my brain as I reached for my wallet, getting a tip ready. But in the entry way to the suite, I didn’t find a maid.

I found Karen.

“Oh. Back all ready,” I murmured, meeting her eyes. She opened her mouth and closed it, saying nothing.

“How was the library?”

“Shut up,” she whispered finally and put a hand on either of my cheeks, pulling me into a kiss.

KAREN

“Shut up,” I whispered finally. I put my hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss.

A real kiss.

Not a kiss between brother and sister, but a real kiss, a lover’s kiss. A kiss between a man and woman who were about to do much more than kiss.

His lips tasted hot and heavy and smoky, traces of the scotch still on his lips as our tongues dueled. I nibbled at his lower lip as we broke apart, his eyes scorching mine as we gazed into each other, through each other, at the people we had been, and at the people we were now, and at the people we might become—what we might become, together…

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice heavy and husky.

“God, yes,” I whispered back, taking his lips in mine. They were surprisingly soft for such a manly man. I wondered if he moisturized.

His hands molded into my body perfectly and I felt myself melt deliciously against him, whimpering as I pressed my curves into the musculature of his body. I felt warm all over, what old ladies used to call hot and bothered. A shiver of delight shot up my body as I wrapped my hands around his shoulders, feeling their broad power beneath my flesh, barely contained in his suit. He felt hot underneath my hands, and I’m sure I must have felt hot to him as he ran his hands down my back, feeling my body, as his hands reached my bottom, cupping my ass.

I yelped into the kiss, a smile curling over my face as I pressed myself harder and harder into him, feeling the bulge growing in his pants.

“Fuck me, I want you,” he hissed. “I wanted you when we were kids and I want you now.”

“Then,” I said teasingly, pulling away from him and grabbing him by the tie, leading him to the bed. “You can have me.”

“Oh, yes, I can…” he growled and I gasped as he scooped me up, scooped me up in his arms, and all but hurled me onto the bed. I yelped as he landed on top of him, whimpering as his lips descended on mine again.

I writhed beneath him, working my hands under his collar and tearing off his tie. I might have ripped it and it might have been a three-hundred dollar tie but I didn’t care right then and there. He had money. Buy a new goddamned tie.

I worked my hands under his jacked and forced it off, tossing it across the room as his lips worked their way down my neck, down my collar bone. I gasped, whimpering and pressing my chest towards him, as his lips danced down, leaving hot, burning hot traces of passion over my warm flesh.

He suckled gently at the region of my breasts exposed already by my flirt dress, enough to make me whimper, to tease me with a premonition of what was to come, but not so much to leave a mark. I was too old for hickeys and so was he. Well, maybe he wasn’t but I sure felt too old. If only we had done this when we were kids…

“Kyle… Kyle…” I gasped as he slid my dress down, revealing more and more of my voluptuous, needy flesh.

“I’ve played this out so many times in my head, in so many different ways…” he growled. I was undoing his shirt as fast as I could, working the buttons like a madwoman, trying to get at what I knew lay waiting for me underneath.

“Like how?” I asked, curious, but not curious enough to stop taking off his shirt.

“Bending you over my desk. Bending you over your desk. Bending you over the hood of my car.”

“Any scenarios where I’m not bent over?” I asked, grinning as he sloughed off his shirt.

“You, riding me in my office, overlooking the city…” he growled, reaching down to force his hands up under my dress. I gasped, feeling his powerful hands on my bare thighs. I was glad I had decided to wear some sexy underwear—a green, slip of a little thong that had been riding up my ass all day. But it was sure as hell worth it for the reaction that spread over his face when his hands grabbed my ass, gripping my bare cheeks and driving my hips into his as he grinded the bulge in his pants against my barely clad crotch.

“We’ll have to act that one out,” I whispered back, arching my back and pressing myself into him. I thrust my chest forward, aching to be naked, aching to feel him inside of me, aching to feel him on top of me, beneath me, all around me…

“In a helicopter, over the city…” he growled in my ear, biting my earlobe. I whimpered, pressing myself harder and harder into his needy body.

“Oh, god, is that safe?” I whispered as he slid my thong down. I watched it descend my long, well-muscled legs and then disappear into the depths of what was probably the fanciest hotel room in all of New Orleans.

“No,” he said with a grin.

“Good.”

I felt his hands slide over my legs, gripping my skin hard. I whimpered, shuddering in delight as his hands traced the descent of my thong, down my muscles, down to the sensitive flesh behind my knees and down to my calves. The feeling of his hands on my skin was an aphrodisiac, a hard drug to resist.

I tore off his undershirt and I set about devouring his chest, my brother’s chest, as he kissed my neck. I dragged my lips, dragged my tongue over his broadness, over his powerful flesh. I groaned and pressed my hot center towards him, wrapping my legs around him involuntarily, hungering for more… I needed it, wanted it. Wanted him.

Wanted my brother, my ex-brother, my step-brother billionaire asshole.

I loved the taste of his flesh under my lips, loved the way his smooth, strong skin allowed my lips to glide over him, loved the way he smelled and loved the slickness of his hot skin, especially after I had already kissed him. I wasn’t careful with my kisses, leaving hard, bruising marks on his body, marking Kyle as mine.

“Ahh… Gentle…” he gasped as he slid his fingers along the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs.

“You be gentle,” I gasped in reply as I felt his fingers touch my hot core. It didn’t hurt—rather, it was sudden, the sudden gratification of a desire I had been anticipating—anticipating for longer than I had realized…

“No,” he growled with a grin as I felt him start to stroke me, starting at the bottom and gliding up to the center of my pleasure, teasing and harassing me.

“God…” I whimpered. The touch of his fingers, finally, after so long… It was what I had wanted. What I had wanted for so long, without even knowing it. God, if only we had done this when we were kids… No, I never would have lived that down. But I didn’t care now. Wanted it too much.

I felt him slip a finger inside of me and I whimpered, gasping and biting one of his nipples as he penetrated me.

“You’re tight,” he growled, the growl of an animal, a wolf ready to devour his prey.

“It’s… It’s been a while.”

“We’ll have to change that,” he said simply, starting to undo his pants.

“Oh, yes… Yes, we will.”

I pushed him hard, forcing him off of me, and flat onto his back. I whimpered as his finger slid of out me suddenly, gasping, and then I mounted him straddling him as I undid his belt.

“Feisty,” Kyle declared as I slid his pants and boxers down, revealing his thick, throbbing manhood. It all but hit me in the face. I was delighted to see how big he was, my mouth all but salivating as his girth greeted me.

“You have no idea,” I replied as I began to kiss down his chest, down his abs, working my tongue into the creases of his six pack, suckling and tasting his hot flesh. Somewhere in there, he managed to force my dress off over my head and then, finally, free my breasts from their lacey fabric prison. I was naked, naked with my stepbrother, my ex-brother, and it felt amazing.

I ran my lips over his naked belly and then over his manhood, tasting his essence, taking him into my mouth. He gasped as I held him tight, my lips gripping him as I began to work my head, doing what the boys had always loved, my tongue working over his cock.

“Oh… Oh, fuck, Karen…” my brother groaned, his hips bouncing, forcing his manhood into my eager mouth as I sucked him, slurping as his cock like a great big lollipop. I bobbed my head faster and faster, meanwhile gripping the base of hit powerful shaft with my fingers, massaging his pulsating flesh, sometimes tracing the ascent of his bulging vein, the vein that ran up his cock to the delicious pulsating head.

I loved the way he tasted, the way he tasted like a man. I swirled my tongue around his cockhead, savoring the taste of his desire as it leaked out of the tip of his flesh. I closed my eyes in joy, letting him deep into my mouth again and then pulling off as I stroked his thighs, teasing him, making him want it, want me.

He ran his hands through my hair, grunting and groaning as I made love to his cock with my mouth, as I devoured his flesh hungrily. I wanted to taste him as he lost control, as he lost control in my mouth…

Faster and faster I worked his body, savoring the sounds of his groans, savoring his hungry desiring moans, savoring the way he grunted, and the way his hips jumped as I worked harder and harder, sweating beading on my forehead in the muggy New Orleans air coming in off the terrace…

“Oh, goddamn, Karen…” Kyle groaned. “Please… Please…”

I pulled all the way off him, grinning up at him, up at his beautiful face, contorted with pleasure, contorted with desire.

“Please what? Use your words…” I teased, stroking him with my finger tips, teasing his flesh, teasing his hot skin.

“Make me cum…” he growled and with that, I straddled him, sliding him inside of me. I arched my back, gasping as I felt his hotness, his powerful tool, all of him, slide inside of me.

“Oh, baby, baby, baby…” I whimpered as I began to work my hips, descending hard onto him and pulling all the way off before slamming myself into him, grinding the center of my pleasure into his own as we did what animals do in the heat…

“Fuck… Fuck…” Kyle groaned, gripping me hard by the hips. I grinded myself into him, whimpering as he held me hard by the ass now, guiding my hips, guiding me onto him as I impaled myself on my brother’s spear over and over again.

I ran my fingertips over his well-developed chest and abs, savoring the feeling of his flesh as I rode him, groaning as I took my brother’s cock inside of my body, into my hot, needy core. My muscles gripped him tight, massaging him as my body descended on him, as I crushed every part of me onto every part of him, my breasts pressed into his powerful chest.

I dragged my lips over his neck, groaning as I felt him getting closer.

“Baby… Kyle…” I moaned, knowing his end was almost here. I couldn’t believe this was happening. This wasn’t like me.

But there was something about being here, in the heat, in New Orleans, that made me want him. That made me love him and want to be loved by him.

Was this what Maribeth Wilson had experienced with her own lover, the pale red-headed Irish sailor who played fiddle on her terrace in the morning while she bathed? This was the same experience that had seduced her so many years ago and now, I found myself in its clutches, torn between a man and a life.

But Maribeth Wilson had known its seductive power, had known its strength and the difficulty of resisting. And what she maybe hadn’t admitted was…

It was the fact that you didn’t want to resist. Rather, you wanted to give in, to give yourself to the desire, to the seduction, to the love.

“Oh, god…” Kyle groaned, his hips starting to piston into me from beneath me, pounding me, pumping me, harder and faster as he gripped my generous behind. He massaged my flesh, grunting heavily as his cock blasted into me, his shaft driving deeper and deeper and deeper…

And then, I hit the edge of my pleasure. I threw my head back, squealing in delight as I gripped my breasts, whimpering and shuddering as my gasping, painfully powerful climax overtook me. I shook and shuddered and somewhere in there, Kyle must have hit his own end, because I felt him engulf me, groaning and growling, his lips pressing hard to mine as his flesh pumped inside of me…

We lay there together, gasping, our hunger for one another satisfied, if only for a few minutes. Hours at the most.