Billionaire Stepbrother: Autumn (Our Forbidden Year Book 2) (4 page)

“I
’m famous!” Phoebe squeals as she waves a glossy magazine about in the air.

“I still can’t believe you slapped him. You actually slapped him!”

It’s a week later after the incident at Club Empire, and Phoebe can’t stop smiling.

She opens the latest gossip magazine to a photo of her slapping Lex. Phoebe in her tight–fighting dress looks fierce; her complexion glows just perfectly for the camera – she’s a goddess in heels. Whereas poor Lex looks extremely ruffled.

The caption beneath the half–page spread reads: “Too hot to handle: Billionaire playboy Lex Chamberlin humiliated by unknown female – Club Empire.”

“It was brilliant,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “What on earth did you say to him, though?”

“Oh, you know. Basically called him a worthless piece of shit.” She grins.

“I do feel a little bit sorry for him, though.”

“Pack that right in, Aimee. From what little you’ve told me, he hurt you, he humiliated you. Don’t you forget that. ‘Bout time you got some payback.”

I nod in agreement, but only because it’s expected of me. “Thanks. What would I do without you, eh?”

“You’d still be mousing around, that’s what!” she replies, digging her fingers into my ribs. And I know, it’s true. She’s magically brought me out of a dark place… Yet, there’s still a part of me that wants to crawl back into that comforting, miserable hole, waiting for Lex to return.

As if reading my mind, Phoebe adds, “Don’t you dare fall back into his trap if you see him this weekend.”

“I know, I know,” I reply, dutifully.

The upcoming Saturday marks my Mom’s one year engagement anniversary to Michael. Not their wedding anniversary, mind you… “Any reason for a party, Aimee!” I hear my mom say.

Regardless, she would kill me if I missed her big night. I’m already in her bad books for avoiding going
home
for Sunday lunch, so like the good daughter I am, I give in. I plan to stay a few minutes, show my face, avoid Lex at all costs, then leave to meet up with friends, returning only once all the guests have gone.

Maybe he won’t even be there, I think. Not that I’ve been keeping tabs, but he’s been spotted clubbing practically every night this week…

“I wish you could come,” I say, my bottom lip stuck out, pouting.

“Hell, so do I. Want to see how the other half lives, don’t I? I bet their place is amazing. But I can’t skip out on this study–group again or they’ll kick me out. It’s all right for you first–years, but in second year, the professors don’t half pile the work on. And I really can’t afford to slack off.”

“Yeah, but it’ll only be a couple of hours at most…”

“Aimee, you’re a big girl. I’ve got faith in you. You can do this without me.”

I admire her confidence in me, and wish I could feel the same.

Chapter Nine

I
tell myself I don’t care if he’s going to be there, but we all know that’s a stinking fat lie. So, I make sure to find the sexiest dress I can and spend at least three hours at my dressing table preparing my skin, face and hair; I’m so polished that I almost don’t recognise myself when I look in the mirror. The weight I’d inadvertently lost I’ve partially gained back; my face has filled out a little, but my cheekbones are more prominent now. My slinky curves are back too, filling out every nook and cranny of the tight shimmery blue number I picked out. If Lex is there, at least he’ll get a good eyeful of what he’s missing out on.

I arrive at the party a little late, as is my intention. I step out of the car that has been sent for me as movie stars do, into the brisk night air. The skies above threaten to snow.

A thickly–coated doorman opens the heavy glass door for me, and I take a deep breath of head–clearing air before proceeding into Chamberlin Tower.

With each step forward, my four–inch heels tap away, and I fight the temptation to turn around and retreat.

You can do this
, Phoebe’s words echo in my mind.

I smile nervously at the desk clerk and call for the elevator; it arrives instantly. I take another brave step forward and push the button for the penthouse apartment.

The doors slide open, and a wash of chatter and delicate classical music flow over me. The apartment is packed with people – caterers, and even a string quartet. I shake my head; so much for it being a small affair.

You don’t have to stay long, just go say hello and then disappear. Easy–peasy, I think.

My fingers fidget with the fabric of the dress, and I suck my tummy in before I make my entrance.

I’m grateful that no one pays attention to me. The guests are all in deep conversation with each other, no doubt boring themselves to death with talk of stocks and bonds.

I glide towards the living room and see my mother being a dutiful host, completely in her element. I take a champagne flute that’s offered to me and try to keep my face casual and light as I go to her. But I can’t help my eyes from darting about, scanning each face, every corner, for any sign of Lex. I just need to know if he’s here or not, then I can relax… or panic.

“Darling! You made it,” My mom croons in her most hoity–toity voice. That’s one thing I’m not going to get used to, that’s for sure.

I peck her on the cheek, making sure not to smudge our lipstick. “I said I would, didn’t I?” I sound bitchy, I know I do. It’s not her fault… not really. I brighten and smile at her. “Looks like your first official party is going well.”

“So far so good,” she says through gritted teeth and then whispers, “The caterers are a goddamn nightmare – amateurs, the lot of them!”

Before I can reply, Michael saunters over.

“There’s my gorgeous step–daughter. You are looking as lovely as ever this evening.”

I blush. My step–father takes my empty hand and places an invisible kiss upon it. God, if only he knew what his son and I did on the very rug we’re standing on.

“Thank you, Michael.”

“Did you not bring a date? I would’ve thought all the handsome young chaps at Oxford would be throwing themselves at you!” he continued.

“Nope, it’s just me…” I say trailing off, not really wanting to discuss my romantic life with a man I hardly knew.

“Well, there’s plenty of eligible bachelors right in this very room. And if you get bored of them, at least you’ll have Lex to talk to,” Michael says as I take a sip of my champagne. He waves a hand vaguely in a noncommittal direction. “He’s around here somewhere.”

I almost snort the bubbles of my drink and am forced to issue a polite cough as the liquid travels down the wrong tube.

“Sorry, did you say Lex is here?”

“Yes, he arrived earlier. Now go enjoy yourself, we’re off to mingle.”

“I’ll speak to you later, darling,” my mother says as her billionaire husband leads her away, his hand resting at the base of her spine, guiding her.

I feel like the prey once again and walk slowly towards the edge of the room. I cling to the safety of the walls and keep my eyes open, knowing at any moment I’ll see him. I try to prepare myself for the shock, but it won’t make any difference.

I drain the last of my drink and suddenly feel a thirst unlike any other. I go to seek out another waiter to cure my dry throat, but I move too fast and I collide head on with a girl not much older than I, carrying a full tray of bubbling glasses.

The silver tray topples and spins to the ground with an awful clatter. Expensive champagne flutes shatter a millisecond later. Ladies gasp, and the quartet halts mid–harmony.

“I’m so sorry,” I say to the waitress.

“Oh, no. Oh no!” she mutters, not hearing me. She gets down on her knees trying desperately to gather up the shards of glass.

“Don’t touch those,” I urge, and she finally looks up at me.

“Your dress, oh God, I’m so sorry. Please don’t fire me.”

I look down at the blue gown; it’s soaked… ruined. I blush crimson, forget about the poor girl and rush towards the bathroom. He can’t see me like this.

Chapter Ten

I
shut the door on the escalating sounds in the apartment. I can hear my mother berating the young waitress, and I try to pull myself together. It’s just a bit of champagne, no harm done. Using a hand towel, I blot at the dress, doing the best I can to soak up the damage.

Give up, I think. It’s just a dress. I take a look around at the luxurious guest bathroom and contemplate hiding out in here for the remainder of the night. It would be safer if I were in here for everyone involved, but instead I pluck up my courage and reach for the door handle, ready for round two.

The door opens, and I’m shocked to see Lex standing in the way. Without a word he steps forward, and I have to back up or risk our bodies colliding. My heart flip–flops inside my chest, and my mind goes blank of everything but him. Devilish thoughts plague my mind – hold me, kiss me, Lex. I want him so badly, and yet every impulse is telling me to run, to side step him and get the hell out.

He calmly closes the bathroom door, and we’re alone, staring at each other.

My knees go weak. The perfume and bubbles from the champagne drift up into my head, making it fuzzy, difficult to think.

I can’t be in here with him, and I move towards the door.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” his voice rumbles, and I know he means it.

In a flash he has me up against the tiled wall; the cool surface presses against my skin, and I shiver.

I gather up what semblance of control and will–power I have left.

“Let me go, Lex,” I say, proud of myself for keeping the quiver out of my voice.

“Who did you tell?” he demands, his whole body pinning me hard. I push back, my breasts tight against his chest. “You told that girl at the club, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did?” I yell back. “You left me, Lex, you ruined me. I had to tell someone…”

Don’t cry, I urge myself.

“Do you know what this could do to my reputation? You have no idea, do you? For fuck’s sake, you’re just a silly little girl!”

His grip loosens a fraction, and his eyes flick down to my mouth for a second. I lick my lips.

Does he even realise what he’s doing to me? My innards are in turmoil, fighting against his mental torture. Why can’t we just be normal?

My head inclines. I convince myself, deep down, he wants this, too, and I want him, regardless of whether he’s bad for me or not.

I struggle against his grip and can feel him getting turned on; his cock presses up against my squirming thigh, so I wriggle more. Finally I free my hands, but instead of pushing him away I entwine my fingers through his hair and pull him in close and hard for a desperate kiss. Our lips collide. He doesn’t stop me. He lets me pull him in closer.

We fight each other over dominance. He nibbles at my lips and forces his tongue in deeper, making sure I know who’s in control. My eyes roll back, enjoying every harsh second.

“Take me, Lex,” I manage to gasp.

His hands cup my butt, and he vaults me upwards so I can wrap my legs around his waist. The closer I get to him, the more I realise he wants me.

I grind against his crotch as he kneads my arse apart. I don’t want him to stop. Can we stay in this room forever?

His strong hands keep me held upright as I lean against the wall; his lips kiss my elongated neck, slipping down towards my bursting cleavage.

I moan; it’s not enough – I need more.

Just one last time, I think, knowing too well that once will never be enough.

“I need your cock in me.”

He stiffens harder against me. And I grin in triumph.

“Oh, god, Aimee. You drive me crazy, you know that?” My legs slip back down to earth as his hands release me, and Lex lifts a finger to my red lips.

“You’ve got a sweet, dirty little hole,” he declares as he wipes his thumb hard against my bottom lip; whatever lipstick was still in place is now smeared across the side of my mouth.

“Get on your knees. I’m going to fuck that little hole.”

Eager to please, I obey. I kneel and run my nails up his trouser leg, clawing at him, searching around to squeeze and pull his buttocks closer.