Redemption: A British Stepbrother Romance (27 page)

I
t was only
my second day and I was already begging for the summer to end.

The first day was one long introduction to the firm in the morning, followed by an afternoon of “Legal Ethics” which could have been boiled down to five minutes instead of three hours. Essentially, it was just ‘don’t betray client confidences.’ Hardly rocket science, but at least I didn’t have to see Foster.

Foster. My soon-to-be stepbrother, and existing pain in my ass. That mistake eight months ago had been much worse than I’d first realized. Meeting him again had a few advantages though. I’d been idolizing him. In my mind, he’d been not just a great shag, but a knight in shining armor. He’d come to my rescue and saved me from Zach. After that night, I’d put him on a pedestal, but he wasn’t worth it. I knew that now.

Foster had acted like a complete prick when he’d interviewed me, but I could handle that. I was far more concerned with the way he had spoken to my dad. Dad hadn’t deserved that. To be fair, I gave Dad an earful in the car on the way home, but that was different. I was his daughter.

I’d written off all hope of getting the job until Dad introduced me to his girlfriend--Kathleen Arrington. I didn’t know what Foster had said about me to the other partners, but you didn’t need to be a genius to guess the gist of it. He didn’t want me working here, but unfortunately for him, the other partners hadn’t felt the same way.

I didn’t want to work with Foster any more than he wanted to work with me, but I did want to work here, for this firm. Arrington & Hedges had one of the biggest offices in D.C., and they were famous nationwide. They even had some international satellite offices to work with on global deals. Me being here was huge. I wasn’t about to let Foster screw me over.

Speak of the devil.

“Come to my office,” Foster said, standing in my doorway holding a cup of coffee.

He looked tired. Probably a late night of partying ending with… I didn’t even want to think about how his nights ended. I knew what he liked to do after a few drinks.

“I have to do this conflict of interest list first,” I replied, trying to sound polite. Other attorneys were still walking in and I didn’t want them to think I was rude. With any luck, I could get assignments from them and not have to work for Foster at all. “I need to list all the clients I worked on last summer to make sure I don’t create a conflict of interest.”

“I know what a conflict of interest list is,” he replied grumpily. “Come to my office when you’re done.”

I’d only worked on a handful of projects at Cooper & Cooper so my list of previous clients was a rather modest seven, and most of them I had only worked on briefly. I could only drag the work out for so long before I had to pick up a pen and a pad of paper and head to Foster’s office.

The clock on the wall said 10:15. No one left the office before seven. This was going to be a long summer.

As usual, Foster had his door shut, so I knocked loudly and waited for him to let me in. I heard a grunt from the other side, so I opened the door and peaked in.

“Is now a good time?”

He waved a hand towards the chair, but didn’t look up at me. Evidently his monitor held something far more interesting than me.

“Why didn’t you come and see me yesterday?”

Asshole
. “Morning Foster. I’m fine thank you. How are you?”

“I emailed you and told you to come by. I believe I said it was urgent. When a lawyer asks you to come by urgently you do it.”

“They only gave me login details this morning and I haven’t had time to check my email.”

“Oh.”

Ha. Serves you right for being an asshole
.

“Apology accepted. Whose bed did you get out the wrong side of this morning?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Not really, no,” I replied. I liked to think the day after we’d slept together, he’d at least gone to work with a smile on his face. He’d certainly had one while we’d been in bed together. I remembered him grinning at me as he came up from between my legs, and kissed me with lips that tasted like my sex.

Oh God, April. This is not the place for these thoughts.
I crossed my legs, and tried to focus on what an asshole he was being so as not to leave a damp patch on his chair.

How could I be attracted to this jerk? He hadn’t made any effort to apologize for the way he’d spoken to Dad at the weekend. He clearly didn’t like the idea of his mom getting remarried, but he didn’t need to take it out on me and Dad.

Foster finished working and turned his full attention to me. I almost shriveled up under his gaze, as I backed up into the chair, and wished I could turn invisible. Was that hatred in his eyes? Contempt? Or maybe he was just undressing me with his eyes?

“You look nervous,” he said, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“I am a bit,” I admitted.

“I didn’t take you for the nervous type. You weren’t at all nervous when I was between your legs.”

“You can’t talk about that anymore,” I pleaded.

“What was it you said when I had my tongue in your pussy? ‘Hurry up and fuck me.’ That was it.”

Yes. That was it. I could still hear myself saying those words. I wasn’t the type of girl to speak like that. Even at the time, it was like the words had come from someone else. Like my body had been possessed. I suppose it had in a way. Foster had me completely under his control. He could have done whatever he wanted with me and I would have gone along with it.

“This isn’t appropriate,” I said meekly.

“Why? Because I’m your boss now?”

“Yes. And because you’re going to be my stepbrother soon. Or had you forgotten that part?”

“No,” he snarled. “I’ve not forgotten. I’m just not convinced it’s going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“I have a feeling that when I tell daddy what I’ve done to his little princess he’s going to run a mile.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He wouldn’t. Would he? He clearly didn’t want his mother to get remarried but would he really act like such an ass? Who was I kidding--of course he would.

“Don’t count on it.”

I stared at him, trying to read the expression in his eyes, but instead I just lost myself in his gaze. I looked down at my pad of paper, and scribbled the date at the top, just so I had something to do.

I could just about make out the bottom of one of his tattoos on his wrist where the shirt had ridden up slightly. Looking at him here in his office, no one would guess that his upper body was covered in tattoos. That part of my mental image was fading. When I pictured Foster at night--something I did far too often--the dark lines of the tattoos all sort of blurred into one, moving out of focus whenever I tried to concentrate on one particular part.

“Did you call me in here for something?” I asked when I couldn’t handle him looking at me any longer. “Or did you just want to make inappropriate comments about a night I’d rather forget.”

“I need your help on a case. You heard of PorTupe?”

I nodded. “Of course. They’re a huge pharmaceutical company based in Delaware.”

“Correct. We do a lot of work for the board of directors. Corporate compliance stuff. It’s my biggest client by a long way. The board members have been named as defendants in a shareholder litigation suit. You know what that is?”

“It’s when the shareholders sue the board for mismanagement,” I guessed.

“Not always, but in this case that’s pretty much it.”

“How can I help?” I asked eagerly. The work probably sounded boring to ninety-nine percent of the population--hell, it probably sounded boring to ninety-nine percent of lawyers--but it was exactly what I wanted to do. Mom had done work like this, and I wanted to carry on her legacy.

“You get the enviable task of going through all the emails and flagging the ones that are appropriate to the litigation. You also need to mark any that are covered by attorney-client privilege.”

“Doc review,” I said, naming the project despised by all junior attorneys.

“Correct again,” Foster said with a smile. “It’s a shitty job, but someone has to do it. You’ll get loads of billable hours out of it though. Go talk to Marvin to get more details about the project. He’ll also show you how to use the appropriate software.”

“Thanks.” I had to expect this kind of work as a summer associate, but that didn’t mean I had to enjoy it.

“This is time-sensitive as well. Looks like we’ll be spending many more nights together. Feel free to come by my office if you get bored. I’m sure I can think of a way to make your time here more satisfying.”

“I’m more than capable of taking care of that myself,” I replied. “I haven’t needed you for the last eight months, and I don’t need you now.

“You still think about it, don’t you?”

“No,” I lied. “Never.”

“I’m not against the idea of a rematch,” Foster said, as if he was doing me a favor. “Sometimes after a long day of work I don’t have the energy to pick up anyone new. You’ll do as a bit of fun.”

“Well with an offer like that…” I walked out of the office and shut the door.

We couldn’t keep having that conversation. It was hard enough looking at him and not thinking about that night. It was next to impossible when he kept bringing it up.

How had those lips brought me so much pleasure when they were now causing me so much grief? I shouldn’t even listen to him, but he was a hard man to ignore. He had… talents, I had to give him that much. But he was a prick.

And what a prick. Seven inches long, nice and thick, and fucking gorgeous to behold.

I turned my mind to the doc review project Foster had just given me, hoping it would act as a cold shower. It did, but as I’d discovered a lot over the last eight months, a cold shower was not enough to quench my desire for Foster.

I couldn’t give in to him; he was my boss
and
my stepbrother--nearly--so he was completely off-bounds. That just made it worse. There was nothing like forbidden fruit.

I’d had eight dry months. Eight months without a man. How much longer could I last? I was only human, and Foster was… Foster was impossible to resist.

A
fter my first
week of work, I needed a lot more than just a cup of coffee, but that was all I could convince Bryan to join me for. Unlike me, he actually had a loving partner who looked forward to seeing him at home. The closest I had to anyone who enjoyed seeing me was Foster, but that was just because he enjoyed torturing me.

I’d stayed late every night this week except Monday, and on two of the days I had been there past midnight. At least I didn’t have to work at the weekend though. Not
this
weekend anyway.

I’d taken full advantage of the free meals the firm provided for employees working past seven, but when combined with the lack of exercise, I was a little worried about my figure. I had a naturally slim physique, but beyond a certain point I put on weight like anyone else.

How did Foster stay in such good shape? He must go to a gym nearby, but he seemed to be in the office more than me, so I had no idea where he found the time.

“Sorry I couldn’t get you a government job,” Bryan said as we sat down outside. D.C. tended to be dead after work on Fridays. Most people were heading out of the city, or popping home to get changed before a night out. Very few people in government jobs worked late on Fridays, or any night of the week for that matter, so the coffee shop near Bryan was almost deserted.

I didn’t like sitting in the heat, but I’d been in an air conditioned office most of the week and this was a rare opportunity to breathe fresh air. Well, not
fresh
as such, but at least I was outdoors.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Everything worked out in the end. Sort of.”

“Sort of? Didn’t you land your dream job?”

“I guess. I’m grateful, obviously, but--”

“But the work isn’t an exciting as you’d hoped?”

“Doc review,” I said, knowing those two words would say all that needed to be said.

“Ah. Yeah, I hear that’s bad. Fortunately I don’t need to do much of that for the DOJ. Not that it’s all that exciting where I am either. Just lots of memos for the most part.”

“I would kill for a legal memo to sink my teeth into,” I said, only slightly exaggerating. “Anything that involves writing and legal analysis, instead of reading emails and clicking a button.”

“That’s weird,” Bryan said, setting his coffee down on the table. “Don’t all the big firms outsource doc review these days? I thought it was all done on the cheap by lawyers in less expensive parts of the country.”

“Yeah, I never had to do any at Cooper & Cooper. I guess Arrington & Hedges doesn’t do…”

Foster.
God damnit, he had given me a project that I shouldn’t even have had.

“What’s wrong?” Bryan asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “Nothing at all.”

“How are the people there?” he asked. “If you get on with your colleagues then you’ll probably find time will go much quicker.”

“Most of them are fine.”

“Most?”

I sighed loudly, letting out some of the tension as I did so. Bryan gave me a weird look, but didn’t say anything.

“My boss is my stepbrother,” I said. “And he’s an ass.”

“I didn’t even know you had a stepbrother.”

“Technically, I don’t. Not yet, but I will soon.”

I told Bryan about my Dad’s engagement to Kathleen Arrington. They hadn’t talked much about wedding preparations, but Kathleen seemed like the type who would want a big wedding. At least that would delay the inevitable for a bit. But one day soon it would happen; Foster would be my stepbrother.

The stepbrother I’d fucked.

“What’s so bad about this guy?” Bryan asked. “I’d have thought he’d be nice to you if you’re going to be his sister.”

“That’s because you’re assuming he’s a mature adult. He’s not. He’s a cocky, arrogant, immature jackass. He does my freaking head in, but I can’t avoid him. He calls me into his office every day.”

“His name’s Foster Arrington?” Bryan asked, looking at his phone. He must have found Foster’s profile on the firm’s website.

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“He has good reason to be confident. That’s one good looking guy. I’m as straight as they come, but even from this profile picture I can tell he’s a catch. Look how wide his shoulders are.”

“He’s not my type,” I said, refusing to look at the photo Bryan was showing me. Foster really wasn’t my type. Not if you judge my type by the kinds of boyfriends I’d had in the past. None of them had been anything like Foster.

But I suppose if you judged ‘type’ by the kind of man that had you wet between the legs just by smiling at you--or not even that--then Foster was definitely my type.

“If you say so,” Bryan said, giving me a knowing look. Could he tell? I felt like my face was giving away everything I’d done with Foster, but that was probably just paranoia.

“Even if he is good looking, and I still insist that he’s average at best, he’s a complete prick. You should hear the way he talks to me.”

“What sort of things does he say?”

So many things. Every night this week he’d called me into his office once most people had left and he always said something inappropriate. That we should fuck again to pass the time. That I should bend over his desk while he decides what to do with my ass. That he’s hungry for something sweet and wants to go down on me. That I talk back too much and need something to fill my mouth.

“He’s just mean,” I said pathetically.

“You might have to get used to that. Lawyers talk that way, it’s just part of the job.”

“I suppose. It just hurts coming from him, that’s all.”

Bryan raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t like him?”

“Ew, gross. He’s going to be my stepbrother. I meant it’s a shame he couldn’t be nicer for the sake of being a happy family and all that.”

“Okay,” Bryan said, raising his hands in defeat. “If you say so.”

Damn it, was I that transparent? What if other people at work were picking up on it? That wasn’t likely. The other attorneys were far too consumed with billing as many hours as possible to notice any kind of sexual tension. If that’s what it was.

I still thought he was a genuine ass because of the way he’d acted with Dad and me, but he had a good side too.

Foster had been a cocky shit that night eight months ago, but there had been more to him than that. He been protective, supportive, and kind. Which was the real Foster and which was the act?

I’d find out soon enough. I just hoped I didn’t get hurt in the process.