My Stepbrother's Rules: The Complete Series (Steamy Stepbrother Romance) (3 page)

“Don’t stop,” I whispered.

Alex unzipped his pants. Slowly, as if he might break me, he entered me.

I squeezed him between my legs. He moved inside me in a methodic, controlled rhythm. It was amazing and maddening all at once. The way he took his time with me was impressive and confounding. How did he do it?

He started to thrust into me hard. I was losing control. Alex could sense it.

“Cum for me now,” he said.

Maybe it was the competitive part of my personality, or the fact that I wanted us to cum at the same time, I’m not sure, but I held out a bit longer.

He pumped into me quickly. Was he losing control or was this by design? It was impossible to tell. My pussy tightened and stretched under the force of his thrusts. The orgasm I’d been keeping at bay broke free.

“I’m cumming…” I whimpered.

Alex groaned; his face twisted with pleasure. He came inside me just after I’d finished. If this was a competition, he’d won.

Alex dropped his head, taking a moment to catch his breath. He lowered my legs to the ground and removed my arm restraints. As he untied me, he kept an arm around my waist, anticipating that I’d need help. He was right. As soon as I was free, I collapsed against him.

Alex cradled me in his arms and ran his fingers through my hair. I basked in the warmth of his body. He smelled clean and inviting; I could have stayed in his arms forever.

There was a knock at the door. Alex looked annoyed. He helped me over to the spanking bench. I sat down and waited for what came next. My head was swimming. The orgasm that had torn through my body left me feeling high. I was nothing short of euphoric.

I watched Alex walk to the door. He opened it a crack. A girl on the other side slid a package through. Alex shut the door and returned to me. It was then I saw he held my clothes. He helped me into my dress and boots. I felt like a child as he dressed me.

The haze in my brain started to clear. My thoughts returned to my exposé. There was so much to do. I doubted any of the girls who worked for the club would agree to sit down for an interview. It was going to be hard to get anyone to go on the record.

I studied Alex. He carefully zipped up my boots then started to straighten his own clothing.

“How many girls have you done this with?” I asked.

A streak of possessiveness washed over me. My voice sounded jealous even to my own ears, but I didn’t care.

“You should leave,” he said, ignoring my question. “There’s no story for you here.”

“How do you know? You have no idea what life is like for the girls here, or what owners are involved with.”

Alex looked up at me sharply. “You need to drop this now. This isn’t a joke. Don’t dig into the business of the owners or any of the girls, do you understand me?”

I jumped to my feet. “If there’s a story here then I’m going to find it.”

I grabbed my coat and headed for the door. Alex grabbed my elbow.

“You’re leaving now.”

“I’m not playing the part of the submissive anymore. I’ve got a story to uncover, whether you like it or not.”

I headed for the door and ran straight into the girl we’d encountered earlier. Her corset was undone now; her breasts nearly exposed. She smiled as my eyes drifted over her body. I quickly looked away.

“Time’s up,” she said. “I need this room.”

“We were just leaving,” Alex said. He grabbed me by the arm and led me through the halls.

“Alex-”

“Don’t use my real name,” he said.

I tried to break free from his grip, but it was impossible. We exited through a back entrance and found ourselves in an alleyway. Alex took out his cell phone and sent a text. In less than a minute a car pulled up. He dragged me to it, opened the door and shoved me inside.

“Hey!” I protested.

Alex gave the driver my address and told him to take me home. He closed the door, shutting out my protests. The driver took off. I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Typical Alex,” I said out loud.

Alex had always been overprotective and controlling. I thought the Alex I’d encountered in the club was different. Maybe he was different. There was no reason to believe he was fake. What if it was simply another side of his personality? A side he kept secret.

“Did you say something, miss?” the driver asked.

“Nothing.”

4

I sat in my office staring at a blank computer screen. I’d spent all of the previous night running over the events at the nightclub. I couldn’t stop thinking about Alex- the way his muscles bulged when he whipped me, the way he felt inside me, the way his eyes bore down into me.

I couldn’t get it out of my head. Worst of all, I was unable to write a single word.

I could write a piece about my experience with Alex using pseudonyms and leaving out the fact he was my stepbrother, but that felt too personal. I wasn’t sure how I felt about having my name attached to an explicit article about BDSM. Besides, this was supposed to be a piece that introduced our readers into the world of BDSM and the (potentially) dirty practices of the club owners. I had nothing of value to report.

I looked at my watch. It was Monday and my editor was expecting a first draft by Wednesday. There was only one solution: I would have to return to the club.

PART TWO

1

If my weekend was any indication for what was to come, I was in for quite the adventure.

I came home from work on Monday to find my apartment flooded. My first big assignment was due on Wednesday and I hadn’t written a word; my stepbrother had warned me away from my big story at the Red Room; and now I had to deal with the disaster that my apartment had turned into. Life was going less than smoothly and if I didn’t get my story finished, I would be out of a job.

I packed a bag and did the one thing I promised myself I would never do: I moved back home.

Luckily, my stepbrother had moved out years ago. At least, I wouldn’t have to run into him in the halls. Or so I thought.

After unpacking, I ran downstairs to the kitchen and right into my stepbrother Alex. He was sitting in the kitchen, laughing with the maid and eating a sandwich.

“What are you doing here?” I blurted out rudely.

The maid gave me a dirty look. She’d always loved Alex, but who wouldn’t? Most guys his age were struggling to find a job, or still living at home. Alex was his own man: successful, rich, and handsome.

As a kid, he was charismatic and well-mannered. He had a way of charming women from a young age. The maids and nannies always doted on him. He was the prince and I was… well, I’ve never been sure how I fit in. Alex was the golden boy; I was treated like the third wheel.

When I decided to major in journalism in college, I was met with a roll of the eyes and stony silence. It was clear my mother and stepfather disapproved, but weren’t surprised.

My family worked in the financial sector. They handled shady business deals every day. Growing up with money was always a source of guilt for me. I hated that I led a life of ease thanks to the ill-gotten means of my mother and stepfather.

When I left home, I left the money behind. I was determined to live completely independent of my family. I even paid for my college myself. It wasn’t easy; I struggled for years to pay off my student loans and if I lost my job at the paper I’d be forced to move back home permanently.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Alex replied.

Clearly, he was mocking my reaction to seeing him at the BDSM club. I wasn’t amused.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s always nice to know you’re missed,” he said to the maid.

She laughed and shot me another dirty look.

“I thought I’d drop by and check in on things.”

“And now that you’ve checked in…?” I asked.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. The skin around my wrists was rubbed raw from the restraints Alex had tied me up with. I quickly pulled down my sleeves and put my hands behind my back. The gesture wasn’t lost on Alex. He followed my every move like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Never!” I said sarcastically. “It’s been amazing seeing you again, but it is getting late. I think it’s time you left.”

He took a bite of his sandwich. His eyes fell over my bare legs. I’d changed into a baggy sweater and an old pair of boxers for bed. The boxers belonged to an ex of mine. They were a bit big in the waist, but they were comfortable to sleep in.

“Thank you for the sandwich, Anne Elise,” he said.

“If you need anything, you just knock on my door, Alexander,” she replied. She smiled warmly at him then left the kitchen.

“Are those men’s boxers?” he asked.

“Yeah, so?”

“I didn’t know you have a boyfriend.”

He said it casually, but his body stiffened. The muscle in his jaw tensed and flexed as if he was gritting his teeth. I’ve never known Alex to be jealous, but he was acting that way now. I felt strangely emboldened by his jealousy. I strolled up to him and leaned against the table.

“Does that bother you?” I asked.

“Why would it bother me?”

He was acting a bit too indifferent.

“No, I don’t suppose it would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shrugged. Again, his eyes fell on my legs. A heart-shaped bruise was just visible on the edge of my boxers. Alex reached for my leg. For a second, I thought he would caress the bruise, or stick his hand up my shorts.

Flustered, my face burned hot. But Alex didn’t touch my leg. Instead, he reached for a loose thread hanging from my boxers. He pulled the string. My boxers unraveled, thread by thread.

“You’re boyfriend’s going to have to buy a new pair of boxers,” he said.

Alex leaned over and took the thread between his teeth. His mouth was inches away from my pussy. I gripped the edge of the table. My backside started to pulse with the memory of my spanking. 

He tore the loose string with his teeth then leaned back in his seat. The left leg of my boxer was torn, revealing an extra inch of my thigh. The heart-shaped bruise was clearly visible now. Alex stared at it for a moment.

“You’re not planning on going back to the club, are you?” he asked.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Checking up on me? Making sure I’m behaving myself? I’m an adult. I can go where I want, whenever I want. You don’t get to boss me around.”

His jaw clenched again. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“I’m a journalist,” I said without much conviction. “I have a story to write.”

“That story will not include the goings on of that club. Do you understand me?”

I scoffed. “Unbelievable. You don’t get to dictate what I report on.”

“We had an agreement. You’re to follow my rules.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else, I’ll punish you.”

There was a catch in his voice. It took on a gravelly deep tone. I was suddenly wet. I rubbed my thighs together.

“Sorry, but that’s not going to work. I have a story to write.”

I turned my back on him and headed for the stairs.

“Etta,” he called after me.

I didn’t turn. If I looked into his eyes, I wouldn’t be able to do what I needed to do. I’d soon find myself submitting to his will all over again. Not that I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I’d been obsessively reliving his every touch since our encounter at the club. He’d left an indescribable impression on me which was precisely why I needed to get my story before I considered my future with Alex.

“Promise you won’t go back,” he said.

I bit my lip. I’m not a natural born liar. Every time I lie, I’m racked with guilt.

“I promise,” I said.

My voice was steady and confident, but the weight of the lie was already twisting my stomach into knots. Before any more could be said, I left the kitchen and went to my room.

2

I scanned the line of people waiting outside The Red Room. I checked every face twice. It was silly to expect to see my stepbrother waiting in line. He was wealthy and well-connected. There was no doubt he had his own private entrance.

Would he be here tonight?

I was wearing a long, dark auburn wig with bangs and I’d changed my makeup. Normally, I wore mute, neutral colors. Tonight I was sporting smoky eyes and red lips. Hopefully, it was enough to fool him in the poorly lit club. If he was inside, I might escape his notice- as long as he didn’t look too closely.

I walked up to the front of the line, stumbling once in my stiletto heels. I’ll never get used to wearing heels. I cursed my clumsiness. The guard sized me up with an amused expression.

“Back for another round?” he asked.

“Shit. You recognized me.” 

It was the same guard from the night before. I thought my disguise was good, but apparently not.

The bodyguard shrugged. “I never forget a pretty face.”

“You’re sweet. Do you think I could get in?”

“No problem. You’re names on the list.”

“It is?”

No one knew who I was except for my stepbrother. There was no way he’d tell them to let me inside.

“Word came from the boss. She said to let in the pretty girl in the trench coat if she came back. What is your name?”

“Natasha,” I lied.

The guard looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. I could tell he didn’t believe me.

“Well, Natasha, you’re welcome to come in.”

“Who’s the boss?” I asked. “I’ve never met her.”

“Ivy. She likes to wear leather pants and corsets.”

I remembered the girl we’d met in the hallway of the club. She’d flirted with me then directed us to the empty room.

“She’s the boss?” I asked with surprise.

The bodyguard laughed. “Don’t let her catch you questioning her authority. She’ll give you a whipping like you’ve never had before.”

I smiled at his double meaning. “I won’t.”

The guard stepped aside. “Good. Enjoy your time inside.”