Max: A Stepbrother Romance (16 page)

It was almost midnight. It had been three days since the will reading, and Leighton had done nothing but ponder the myriad possibilities that lay in front of him. Despite now owning the house, he had continued to sleep every night at the hotel he had been staying at in town, while desperately trying to work out what to do. Alexis had spent a night in hospital, been diagnosed with concussion and the rest of the time either convalescing in bed or speaking to her lawyer to try and get the inheritance rescinded. She had hardly eaten. Pandora had been less than conspicuous in her attempts to win Leighton over, while Isabella seemed not to understand the complexities of what had happened, and Gracey kept herself very much to herself. She was cordial with Leighton whenever he was at the house, mostly because Leighton chose to respect their current situation and ring the bell whenever he arrived at the estate, but also because she didn’t quite know how else to behave. The feelings she had were not going away, despite her willful insistence. She knew there was no way it could ever happen, yet there it was wherever she looked, and there he was too, reminding her of it. Even now, unbeknownst to Leighton, she was thinking about him, rolling around in her bed, her hand between her thighs.

Alexander curled up at Leighton’s feet. The evening was mild and stickier than normal for this time of year. Leighton would have to make a decision soon. He would have to return to his real home before too long, and attend to several of the meetings that were now backing up in his absence. This was unlike him. Normally he’d have sold the property and moved on, or he would have seduced the woman without delay. The money could be invested immediately in projects overseas with at least a ten percent yield. At the moment, this asset was not increasing, and every day he prevaricated, he knew the decision would become harder and harder to make.

Leighton drained the rest of the whiskey, sucking the flavor against the roof of his mouth. His dad may have been a non-presence constantly in his life, but he did seem to have the capacity to make a few good decisions. Alexis was a battle-ax but he could see what his father liked in her. Gracey seemed to have her fight, but it was tempered by a beautiful, well-balanced soul. She was as self-effaced a person Leighton had ever met. He couldn’t see much of that at all in Pandora and Isabella. Isabella was the less offensive of the two, too stupid to be anything else, and Pandora seemed driven only by money, which was about as vacuous as it could possibly get. Leighton knew only too well the corrupting and addictive hold money could have on a person, but he also knew the importance of balancing it out with the things in life that money simply could not buy. He couldn’t buy Gracey. Money would not work on her. For that, he’d need something different.

I
t was the third time in less than two weeks that blue lights had come up the winding drive of 2742 Gulls Pike Avenue. It had taken a while, but they had to be sure. There was no question about it, Philip Mandrake de Vries had been murdered.

The cause: A toxin derived from the plant foxglove, called digitalin. The effect: An induced heart attack made to look like it had occurred naturally. Philip was prophetic in insisting on an autopsy as part of his will, with the specific intention to look for foul play. Had he not, no one would have assumed it was anything other than an overworked heart giving up on a stressed and obese man.

The problem that Detective Foster had was who to arrest. Leighton Tempest had been the unlikely recipient of Philip’s huge inheritance, which would give him motive, but he hadn’t been at the house at the time Philip was taken to hospital. That left his wife, Alexis, the chain-smoking alcoholic who everyone expected to be the heir, and her three daughters, who could have just as equally prospered had the inheritance actually gone to them. Most bizarre was the fact that Philip did not have current life insurance. He’d allowed his policy to expire without renewal, almost two years ago.

Alexis, or indeed any of the three daughters may have just despised Philip enough to want to kill him, or it could have been someone else entirely with a personal vendetta. It was difficult to know for sure, which was why Detective Foster decided the best thing to do would be to arrest the whole family, ask a few probing questions and sort the details out later on. He’d get his team to do a forensic sweep of the house and see what they could turn up. Perhaps under questioning, one of the girls would crack. He knew Gracey, the youngest, had spent a long time at her stepfather’s bedside in the hospital, which made his cynical mind even more suspicious of her motives. She also seemed to be developing a relationship with Leighton that spoke of more than just simple acquaintance. Foster had been a detective for only ten years, but he’d been a policeman for nearly thirty, and a journalist before that. He knew where to look for clues, and how to do it without being noticed himself.  

Leighton wasn’t at the forefront of his investigation, but he hadn’t ruled out the possibility that he was involved. Of what he could deduce from his relationship with his father, it seemed that Leighton would have every right to want the man killed. Until his innocence was proven and he was excluded completely from inquiry, Detective Foster had submitted a claim to have the inheritance put on hold. He knew there was little chance of it being allowed, but as soon as a claim was submitted, he could at least tie up the passing over of the money and assets until a counter claim had been lodged. It would buy him as much time as was possible.

Isabella was the one that opened the door. In her typical way, she invited the Detective and his men into the house for breakfast.

When Leighton eventually heard what had happened, all three girls and their mother were in holding cells in a Baltimore police station waiting for interview rooms to become available for their questioning. Gracey had scribbled it down on a post it note before being reluctantly told to get in the police car or be handcuffed and dragged there if she didn’t comply. When nobody answered the door, Leighton had to use his key for the very first time. He was greeted by Alexander, who led him to the kitchen and the note.

Leighton placed the bunch of roses he’d bought for Gracey down on the table and immediately called his lawyer. This was definitely not part of his morning plan.

W
ith little to keep them there legally, the Detective was required to release the girls as soon as he received the call from Leighton’s well connected and very powerful legal team. This wasn’t before he’d intimidated Isabella enough to make her weep floods of tears, and grilled Alexis enough to make her develop quite the crush on him. Had Detective Foster been a dozen years younger and a few million dollars richer, she would have let him take her then and there across the table in the interview room, several other younger police officers gathered behind the two way mirror to watch, and applaud dramatically when they were done. As it was, Detective Foster was neither rich, nor particularly young, and neither did he seem all that interested in whom he was beginning to believe responsible for Philip’s murder. Alexis had flatly denied she’d killed her husband, on the grounds that she was in a much worse situation now than she was before his death, but hadn’t hidden her hatred for the man, nor her happiness that he had indeed passed away, mostly painfully. She wasn’t at all surprised he’d been murdered, and wondered if Leighton, perhaps in collusion with Gracey might have been the man responsible. Foster thought she was diverting his attention away from the truth and figured that as soon as his forensic team had finished at the house, the big fat finger of guilt would point directly at the old soak smoking away like a chimney in front of him.

Under questioning, Gracey had been steely. She was genuinely shocked at the news, and genuinely pissed to be held against her will, and accused of something she would never have considered, let alone put into practice. Foster was convinced enough by her that he actually began to feel sorry for the misplaced girl. She seemed nothing like the rest of the family, and appeared genuinely upset by her stepfather’s death. She told the detective the most likely candidate would have to be her eldest sister Pandora. She believed Isabella incapable on grounds of genetic stupidity and her mother too clever to attempt something so stupid, especially without checking the will first.

Leighton had a car pick up the girls and bring them back to the house. He was standing on the porch with Alexander awaiting their arrival, when the car pulled up to the front door.

Alexis waited for the driver to open her door, before she stormed out of the car and up to Leighton.

“Fucking police”, was all she mumbled, a near burnt out cigarette stuck to the lipstick on her lower lip, before staggering through the wide front doors and towards the drinks cabinet, as though she still owned it.

“They are still here”, Leighton called behind him.

Isabella was still crying when she breezed past him, while Pandora licked her lips seductively, stood in front of him momentarily, went as though to say something before leaning into him on tiptoes, pressing herself purposely into him and kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, darling”, she said, cynically. “I don’t know what we would have done without you. It’s so nice to finally have a big brother to look after us and keep us safe.”

Gracey was the last out of the car. She ruffled Alexander’s fur and stood for a moment in front of Leighton without saying anything. There it was again, that buzz that seemed like the world bending between them.

“Thank you”, Gracey said, before squeezing Leighton’s hand and heading inside.

In the kitchen, Pandora found the roses. Believing they had to be for her, she immediately busied herself with sorting them into a vase ready to put on proud display, rather than asking if she was indeed the intended recipient, while she figured out just how she planned to seduce her billionaire. Leighton didn’t look like he planned on going anyway just yet, but she didn’t want to risk losing everything if he did.

***

G
racey had just about finished tidying her room when Leighton knocked on the door. The police had taken over two hours to swab, dust and test everything they considered suspicious, and Gracey had taken just about the same amount of time putting everything back in order.

If she had known it was going to be Leighton she’d have changed out of her sweat pants and vest top, brushed her hair and pulled it into something resembling a hairstyle, she might have even asked him to wait while she took a shower and composed herself, but it was exactly that, the simplicity of the clothes that he caught her in, the complete normality of the situation that stole one of Leighton’s heart beats and made him falter momentarily. It was a feeling Leighton was not used to. It was a feeling that reminded him of middle school, when he first clapped eyes on Theresa Clarke. He’d followed that girl like a puppy dog, the cock tease that she was, and learned a very important lesson from it. It was a feeling he’d not had cause to experience since, in any one of the hundreds of different relationships he’d partaken in. It was a debilitating and confusing feeling, and one which almost sent him away again without saying a word. But this was Leighton Tempest, and Leighton Tempest didn’t give up so easily.

Gracey looked incredible. It was impossible for anyone to deny that. Perfect skin, amazing curves, eyes that seemed to change color under different lights. The girl was innocent but experienced, young but mature, and Leighton wanted her more than anything else. Getting the inheritance was a bonus, but getting Gracey would be the real prize.

“Do you have a moment?” Leighton said finally, his business sense kicking in.

“Sure”, Gracey responded, her heart beating wildly. Was this a good thing to do? Was inviting this incredibly handsome, red blooded male into her bedroom a sensible thing? The man that seemed able to make the world explode in a million different colors right in front of her eyes, her skin flush red and her pussy tingle in a way she’d never experienced before. Was this what she wanted?

Leighton came into the room and closed the door behind him. Gracey’s pulse rate quickened as he came towards her. She had no idea what to do. Finally she sat on the edge of the bed, her back curled in perfect posture, her tits thrust forwards unconsciously. Leighton joined her, close enough to show his desire, far enough away to not be overly intimidating. Leighton took her hand in his, while Gracey bit her lip gently. She looked at him, smiled and then looked down, her cheeks flushing red, embarrassed at the thought. Anyone else and Leighton would already be undressing them, dotting the delicate skin of their neck with kisses. Anyone else and they’d have their hands all over his sizable cock, breaking the skin from the glans and drawing it over his frenulum in urgent strokes, ready to tease him inside them. This was different. Pandora would fuck him hard, her pussy wet with desire, but it would mean nothing. It was Gracey he wanted and only Gracey that would matter.

Her pussy was so wet, he could have slid two fingers inside her tight little hole and she would barely have noticed it. He could have slid his cock inside too without needing to part her lips first with his tongue. Leighton’s cock swelled at the thought of it. He wanted to taste her pussy hole. He wanted to rip her panties and fuck her deep while they still clung to her leg. He wanted to force his tongue up inside her meat and finger her delicate little teenage asshole until she begged him to stop.

Finally, after what seemed like an aeon of silence, Leighton leaned into Gracey. The time had come, he couldn’t hold himself back any more.

“I want you”, he said, while he guided her hand to the rock hard bundle pushing the front of his trousers into a peak. “I want you so much.”

Gracey let herself fold into him. She gathered the shape of his cock in her hand and dreamt of everything she was desperate to let herself do to him. She pushed against his meat and felt just how hard and strong it was against her touch. She wanted it inside her, there was no question about that. It would be so simple too. There was just a thin layer of fabric between them. She could pull her panties down, fight him to the bed and run his hugeness inside her. It felt so good just thinking about it, her whole body began to ache, but there was something else she just couldn’t get out of her head. This was her stepfather’s son, and no matter how much she wanted it, there was something about that fact that made her desire feel forbidden. There was something that was telling her she couldn’t go on. No matter how much she wanted him, there was something holding her back. Leighton was a stranger to her, but they were essentially stepbrother and stepsister. They could never be.