Stepbrother Studs: Taboo A-Z Boxed Set Volume 2: A Stepbrother Romance Bundle (Stepbrother Studs Boxed Sets) (15 page)

 

“But you’re tense.  Too tense for this massage to do you any good.”

 

“You better go.”

 

“No.  I’m here.  You need help.  Pretend I’m one of those coed groupies who run laps around the track during practice in their bikinis to get your attention.  Close your eyes and come up on your knees.  This will be...  therapeutic.”

 

My own voice was getting breathier.  My heart thudded in my chest as I waited to see whether he’d go for it.  The impulse to be intimate with him was too strong to ignore, and this was the only way I could think to indulge my curiosity without making it too weird.  I was just helping him out.  And he needed me, needed this release—so he could relax, and I could finish the massage. 

 

He rose on his elbows, then his knees.  His cock was there for me to see, bobbing beneath his belly, thick and long, fully engorged.  I turned and lay on my back, then slid upward between his legs, until my face was directly beneath the head of his cock.  It was round and bulbous. 

 

Fuck, I couldn’t believe Heather had been willing to give it up.  Just the head would stretch my pussy.  I was petite, and he was so large.  Images of what we’d look like together flooded my mind.  But he was waiting, and I didn’t want him to think I was reconsidering my offer. 

 

“It’s okay to move.”  I cleared my throat.  “To come into my mouth.  Do whatever you need to do to get off.”

 

Did he hear the tension in my voice?  Did he know how excited I was?  My own body was coiled like a spring.  Blood rushed to my nipples and my pussy, and a rush of heat flooded my face.  I slid my hands around his shaft and tipped him down to my mouth.  I began by tonguing his crown, around and around.  A bead of cum squeezed from the little slitted hole at the top, and I licked it up, reveling in the moan he couldn’t hold back. 

 

I licked the sides of his shaft, wetting it generously, then began to glide my hands up and down his length, squeezing and twisting while I took the head into my mouth and sucked it. 

 

“Fuck yeah, Kel.”  His hips dipped a couple of inches to slide his cock deeper into my mouth.  I’d given boyfriends blow jobs before, and liked the way it felt—my mouth filled, my cheeks tensing as I sucked.  I liked the smell of male musk, the salty flavor of cum.  But this was different, more intense. 

 

This was my brother fucking my mouth! 
Stepbrother
, I amended in my mind.  The distinction was important, was what made this marginally more acceptable.  We weren’t doing anything wrong.  Not really.  We weren’t blood. 

 

My hands worked faster, sliding up and down, and then I took one hand away, letting him sink more fully into my greedy mouth.  I strained to raise my head and change the angle, to take more of him, and then he slipped a hand under my head to cradle it. 

 

I curved toward his stroking cock, widening my jaws while my lips tightened to suck harder.  His hips moved in smooth, measured thrusts, and I let go the hand still holding him to grip his hips above me.  His dick slid past my tongue to the back of my throat, and I gagged.  But I made myself relax and breathe through my nose, allowing him deeper still until his strokes shortened, battering my throat in quick pulses—and then he came. 

 

His shout brought happy tears to my eyes.  His release filled my mouth in hot, salty spurts, which I swallowed, my throat working against the tip of his cock, taking every gushing, gooey bit of him. 

 

When he slowed to a stop, I disengaged, and moved out from under him.  I was shattered, but couldn’t let him know.  I pushed on his ass until he lowered to the bed, and then resumed the massage. 

 

He cradled his face in his arms and stayed silent as I gave him the deep massage he needed.  When he slept, I slipped from the bed and closed the door. 

 

But I didn’t leave his apartment.  Instead, I got busy in the kitchen, heating stew from cans.  He’d need to eat when he awoke.  And then we needed to talk.  Not a conversation that would be easy for us.  But I was afraid that I’d crossed a line, and that he might view me differently. 

 

I couldn’t lose my best friend.  Sex shouldn’t get in the way of what we were to each other.  Somehow, I had to convince him that we hadn’t lost anything, but had just added a new layer.  Maybe I could appeal to the practical side of him by reminding him that he was too busy to find a new girlfriend, and he needed physical release to stay relaxed and healthy. 

 

Thoughts of how to approach the topic ate at me, but I kept busy, filling the dishwasher with the plates and cups littering the counter.  If Daddy and Jessica could see what a slob he was, they might think twice about letting him live off-campus.  They’d paid for a dorm room for me, for safety.  But I spent more time here than in the small room I shared with a psych major I couldn’t stand because she was always analyzing everyone around us, trying to diagnose different disorders. 

 

Everyone was fucked up.  This was college.  So, I was obsessed with my own brother.  Comparing him to every guy I dated ruined any chance for those other guys.  None were as handsome and strong or funny and sweet. 

 

I heard the sound of the shower and my heart began to race.  My stomach dropped to my toes. 

 

I wasn’t waiting to
talk
to him.  I was waiting to see whether he’d let me jump his dick.  I was still aroused by everything I’d done.  Maybe I’d messed everything up. 

 

Unable to face him with my fears, I turned on the dishwasher, turned off the stove, and slipped out his kitchen door.  I’d give him some space.  The next time we saw each other, I’d pretend nothing had happened.  It was for the best.  I couldn’t lose my brother, the most important guy in my life, over a little thing like a blow job.  He’d needed it.  I’d provided it.  Simple as that. 

 

Hayden wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.  I wouldn’t let him. 

 

 

On Friday, I tried my best to keep focused on my own practice.  I didn’t dare look down the football field where the coach was running drills.  From the corner of my eye, I spotted Hayden running laps, no longer limping.  I told myself I was satisfied, knowing he was better and that I’d had a hand in helping him heal. 

 

“Helloooo!” 

 

I turned back to Chloe, the head cheerleader who was giving me her mean-girl face.  My attention had drifted again.  Not a good thing since we were practicing for Saturday’s game.  As I was the smallest of the cheerleaders, I was a flyer—half of the top of a pyramid.  We’d planned a simple pyramid.  Me and another girl would fly up and balance for a moment, one foot supported by two other squad members’ hands.  So far, I’d failed to find my center, toppling off every time they joined hands to raise me. 

 

I’d even managed to catch Chloe’s chin with my shoe the last time I’m tumbled. 

 

“Got a new boyfriend?”  she asked, a hand fisted on her hip.  “You need to keep your head in the game, Kelly, or I’ll let your ass drop.”

 

I blew out a breath that filled my cheeks and gave her a nod.  She was right.  I’d worked hard to be a part of the squad.  And this wasn’t a hard stunt. 

 

We moved into position when she blew her whistle.  I fell backward into two girls’ arms.  They bounced me up to a sit—I found their hands with my shoe and shot upward, straightening.  When I balanced on one foot, I began to raise me other leg to the side to form half of the pyramid with the girl beside me, our actions mirroring each other’s, but the moment I lifted my leg, I heard a shout from down the field.  I turned my head, lost my balance, and began to fall.  This time, no arms waited to catch me and break my fall. 

 

I landed on the turf on my ass, the wind knocked out of me. 

 

“Tomorrow, if you don’t nail it at the game, I swear I’ll pull you.”  Chloe stepped in front of me, her toe tapping. 

 

The other girls gave me sad shakes of their heads and wandered off.  I rose slowly, rubbing my butt and wincing. 

 

A figure broke away from the team’s bench.  Hayden trotted toward me, his helmet under his arm.  It was the first time we’d be alone since “the incident,” and panic filled my chest.  I pasted on a smile as he came to a halt in front of me. 

 

“Saw what happened.”  He frowned.  “They dropped you.  What the fuck was that all about?” 

 

“I deserved it.  I couldn’t keep my balance.”  A shout sounded from down the field. 

 

“Hang around.”  His eyebrows drew into a darker frown.  “We’re almost done with practice.”

 

I lifted a shoulder, ready to give him an “I have to study” excuse, but he pressed a finger against my lips. 

 

“Wait for me.”  Then just as quickly as he’d arrived, he hurried away. 

 

I strode to the bleachers and sat, then watched as the coach gathered the players around him.  I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but at the end, the team stacked hands in the center of the circle then gave their cheer.  The moment they began to drift away, Hayden jogged toward me. 

 

“You need help?”  He sat next to me on the bench, not looking at me. 

 

“Help?”  I repeated, then blushed, because my mind went straight to the kind of help I’d given him the last time we’d been together. 

 

“Yeah, practicing your balance.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.  Tomorrow night when everyone’s watching, I won’t miss.  Besides, I’d need two—”

 

“Think I’m not strong enough to hold you up on my own?” 

 

“You seem to have made a quick recovery.”  I glanced sideways at his thigh. 

 

“No changing the subject.  Come on home with me.  We’ll practice in my back yard.  No one will see.”  He bumped his shoulder against mine.  “Let me help.  It’s the least I can do.”

 

Part of me was relieved he didn’t mention what form my help had taken.  Perversely, part of me was a bit irked he didn’t acknowledge the extra mile I’d gone. 

 

“Get your stuff.”  He stood.  “I’ll order pizza.  We’ll make it a night.  I have Vampire Diaries taped...”

 

Mention of my favorite show didn’t tempt me. 
We’ll make it a night. 
Again, my imagination took me down an entirely different road from the one Hayden no doubt meant.  He didn’t have a problem with what I’d done.  Hell, he’d forgotten all about it. 

 

“Get your stuff,” he repeated, and then held out his hand to help me up.  And if he held it just a little too long, it didn’t mean a thing. 

 

 

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