New Brother

Don't Talk To Him

Hailey

Wasn't it strange? The guy you once couldn't stop thinking about, by some twist of fate, ends up in your new school, yet none of those old sparks return?

Hell. It was.

It had been two days since I bumped into Ricky in the college hallway, and despite garnering more attention from him than I ever had before, none of it, not even a little bit of it, stirred any excitement in me.

Even as I listened to him chatter on the phone about his passion for hockey, I felt nothing. I tried to dissect why, and the reason wasn't entirely unexpected—it was because of my new brother. A person, who would surely be my ruin.

Ricky didn't evoke the same visceral response as Damien did in my dreams.

Ricky didn't make me wet. The sight of him didn't ignite a primal urge to reach between my thighs and finger myself to orgasm while imagining his face; that reaction was reserved solely for Damien, much to my frustration. Only he could make me feel that way, and that too every fucking time I saw him.

He was driving me crazy in so many ways, and I couldn't seem to rein in my desires. Even the fact of him being my stepbrother failed to deter those steamy fantasies, those wet dreams when I'd wake up to a mind-blowing orgasm. Damien felt too good to be real but my god, oh god, he was real.

Our interactions over the past two days had been minimal—we exchanged only a few words during our car rides to and from college. But that only fueled my craving for his attention, while simultaneously fueling my self-loathing for wanting it.

As Ricky continued to speak passionately about his interests, I absentmindedly played with the pages of the book in front of me. My attention was torn between his words, the book, and the vivid images of Damien that danced through my mind and as expected Damien took most of my attention. God, he looked unbelievably sexy in a suit. The way he always seemed so put together should be fucking illegal!

"So, Hailey, what are your interests these days besides reading?" Ricky's voice broke through my thoughts.

My stepbrother.

But I couldn't admit that to Ricky, could I?

"Um, not much, just—"

The door to my room suddenly swung open, causing me to jump, the phone slipping from my grasp.

Much to my utter bewilderment—Damien strode in, still sweaty from the gym. It seemed he'd taken his sweet time returning. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his T-shirt clinging to his body like a second skin, hinting at the muscles hidden beneath. His hair stuck to his forehead, yet somehow, he still managed to look incredibly attractive, even when drenched in sweat.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I blurted out, still trying to catch my breath.

Ignoring my question, Damien got straight to his point. "Be ready tonight. We have somewhere to be."

"What?" I stared at him, bewildered. He couldn't just expect me to fucking agree without giving me any details—I wasn't some puppet.

"Hello?" Ricky's voice suddenly pierced through the room's silence, and my eyes widened in realization. I hadn't ended the call. But my concern wasn't about Ricky overhearing our conversation; it was about the unexpected visitor standing before me.

I saw Damien's gaze flicker towards my phone, a frown forming on his face. Quickly, I grabbed the phone and ended the call, muttering, "Fuck!" under my breath.

"New boy-toy?" Damien raised an eyebrow, making my throat go dry.

"None of your business," I muttered, setting my phone aside. I was nervous, yes, but I refused to let him exploit that.

"So it is a boy-toy," he mused, stepping closer and standing at the foot of my bed.

I bit the inside of my cheek, attempting to steady my nerves. "And like I said, it's none of your business, brother."

His jaw tightened at the word "brother," and he spoke through clenched teeth. "I am not your brother."

Oh, Jesus...

"You... you were the one insisting on the wedding day that you were going to be my brother when you brought up that whole stupid idea of disciplining me!"

"Did I? Forget it then," he said casually. "I am not your brother."

He had to be fucking kidding me!

"No!"

"I'm your stepbrother, Bunny. Not your biological one," he clarified, his hands resting on the footboard as he leaned closer. Our faces were mere inches apart, his warm breath grazing my skin, sending involuntary shivers down my spine. Calm down, Hailey, "So let's stop pretending, shall we?"

"Brother or stepbrother, I don't see much of a difference," I managed to say, struggling to maintain eye contact with his intense, piercing grey eyes. Up close, he looked dangerously enticing—too dangerous for me, especially when my desires were already teetering on the edge.

"Oh, but there's a world of difference," he chuckled, lifting his right hand to trace his index finger down my bare shoulder—bad day to wear a top with spaghetti straps. "I can do things to you that your real brother would never even dream of."

Oh. My. God.

Did he really just say that? And without a hint of hesitation.

And that touch...jesus, I needed to rethink.

I tried to form words, but they failed me, as did my body. I couldn't speak, I couldn't blink, and worst of all, I couldn't even breathe. His words had pushed me to the brink of something, into a dangerously enticing territory.

Damien leaned closer to my ear, our cheeks brushing, sending goosebumps rippling across my skin. My heart pounded against my chest, a rush of wetness pooling between my thighs, butterflies fluttering in my lower abdomen—this was exactly what Ricky failed to make me feel. This was exactly what I craved. I wanted to feel alive.

And my stepbrother definitely made me feel alive. So fucking alive.

"The last thing you'll ever find in me is a brother, Hailey," he whispered, my name rolling off of his tongue like silk, the same tongue I'd vividly felt in my dreams, on my pussy, bringing me to the most intense releases. "I don't see you as my sister, so stop pretending you see me as your brother." And he slowly pulled away.

"And as for your boy toy," he added, "Stop talking to him, or I'll make sure he's expelled from college."

Was he serious? He couldn't be.

As he turned to leave, my voice finally found its way back to me.

"You don't get to control who I talk to! It's my life!"

He paused at my words, turning his head to look at me, a smirk slowly forming on his lips, igniting a strange kind of desire that consumed me entirely.

"I can, Bunny," he murmured, his smirk never faltering. "And you'll soon see just how I do it."

With that, he left the room.