Shackled: A Stepbrother Romance Novel (6 page)

O
h
. My.
God.

When he pushed his pants down, my eyes followed the movement out of nothing more than instinct. But then his cock sprang free and I felt damn near hypnotized by the sight of it, unable to tear my eyes away. I was quite sure my jaw had dropped open, but I couldn’t seem to control that either.

“Like this, too, then?” he asked cockily before wrapping a hand around the shaft and giving himself a rough stroke. “Because I sure like the way you’re looking at it.”

A full-body shudder ran through me at the combination of his words and his tone, and I slammed my eyes closed, not wanting to play this game any longer. It already felt like I had been playing with fire and just the sight of his naked body was enough to make me feel like I was burning alive.

It didn’t help that I could still feel his lips on mine, still feel his hands gripping my ass as he ground that cock against my core.

Damn him.

“Just… stop. Please,” I whispered hoarsely, refusing to open my eyes even though I could feel him approaching. “It’s not fair.”

His hand gently touched my wrist as he said, “I put my shorts on. I’m… I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

I cracked open one eye just enough to see that he had been telling the truth, but the loose basketball shorts did very little to hide his obvious arousal. Up close the way he was, it made my mouth dry.

“It’s fine,” I told him, wincing at the way my voice cracked. “I just want to go to bed.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned away and crawled underneath the covers, arranging myself as close to the edge as I could without falling off the mattress. The chain rattled as he locked himself back up, then I listened to the soft pad of his footsteps as he walked over to flip off the light.

When the mattress dipped beneath his weight as he got into bed beside me, another shiver of desire went running up my spine. I could feel him moving around as he stretched out, likely staring up at the ceiling in the darkness.

I was willing myself to fall asleep when he spoke again, his voice quiet.

“I’m sorry, Fiona. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I burrowed my face deeper into the pillow and mumbled, “It’s too late for that.”

“I know.”

“You broke my heart.”

“I know.”

Even though I didn’t want to relive it—didn’t want to hear anything more about it—the acknowledgment in his voice was more than enough to make my curiosity win out above my better judgment.

“Why did you do it?”

There was a gentle movement and I imagined that it was him turning his head towards me, even though the room was too dark to see in.

“We both know that I would have fucked it up eventually,” he whispered, voice tight with what sounded suspiciously like regret. “Better sooner than later, right?”

I rolled to my other side, frowning in his direction and wishing that I could see his face. “You don’t know that.”

“Sure, I do. And don’t act like you don’t. Screwing things up is what I do best.”

My frown grew deeper and for reasons I couldn’t even begin to explain, I reached out for him in the darkness. The moment my hand landed on his chest, his own hand came up to catch it and he laced our fingers together.

“I loved you,” I whispered harshly, wincing when I felt his fingers tighten around my own. “I told you I loved you and hours later, I walked in on you fucking some girl. Even if you didn’t feel the same way, how could you do that to me? You were supposed to be my best friend!”

Tears were rolling freely down my cheeks even as he brought our joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. I closed my eyes and waited, counting the seconds until he finally spoke again.

“I would’ve lost you either way,” he said quietly. “But what happened with that girl was just me being in the wrong place at the wrong time and just the right amount of drunk. It was a mistake.”

That was something I hadn’t even considered. I could still picture his emotionless face as he stared at me, only now, the glassiness of his eyes that night made a lot more sense.

Not that it even came close to excusing his actions, but his admission still gave me a little peace of mind. At least now, I could be certain that he hadn’t done it with the intention of hurting me, which was what I had been assuming for the past few months.

I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes, our fingers still intertwined as I drifted into a restless sleep.

T
he darkness made
it a hell of a lot easier to admit to my fuck-ups out loud, even though I knew it was a cowardly way to go about it. Not long after I admitted that what she caught me doing on prom night was a drunken mistake, I felt her hand go slack in mine as she fell asleep.

Even though I knew it was pushing my luck, I still rolled over to face her, getting myself close to her side and trying to squint into the darkness to see her face. It was a fruitless effort, though, so I settled for letting my own eyes shut and running my thumb over her knuckles while she slept.

“
J
onathan
.
”

“Hmm?” I groaned, clearly hearing the voice whispering my name but finding myself unable to open my eyes.

“
Jonathan!
Wake up!”

“I’m awake,” I slurred as I attempted to get my body to move. I pushed myself up as best as I could with my arms and let out a grunt when I rolled off whatever I had been lying on and hit the metal below with a hard thud. “
Fuck
. Where am I?”

Footsteps came closer to my side and I still couldn’t open my eyes.

What the fuck is going on?

“Look at me, you piece of shit!”

Was that—

Finally, my eyes flew open and immediately locked on a pair of angry brown ones. I felt bile rise in my throat when I realized it was Clarissa leaning over me, her hand tightly gripping her clutch like she was going to use it as a weapon. I swallowed hard when I noticed her dress, then glanced down my own body and winced when I realized I was wearing a tux.

Prom. It’s a dream.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?” Clarissa demanded, dragging my attention back to her. “Are you drunk already?”

I frowned and shook my head as I glanced around at my surroundings. When I tried to stand up and found myself wobbling on my feet, I wondered if it was because I really
was
drunk or if it was a side effect of the lucid dream.

“What time is it?” I forced my dream-self to ask, slurring the words so badly that I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice.

“Almost time for the crowning. Come
on
,” she said angrily as she reached out to drag me back to the school by my arm. “I will
not
let you ruin the big moment.”

Big moment? Surely, she didn’t mean becoming prom queen, because in reality, she hadn’t even been nominated. Then again, in reality, I hadn’t gone out to the football field and passed out on the bleachers.

I was still rubbing my hand over my eyes and trying to clear my vision when she pulled me through the doors of the gymnasium. The additional lighting in the room seemed to help pull me out of the haze I was in and I looked around, trying to spot anyone else I recognized.

But like something out of a horror movie, everyone’s faces were just… blank. No eyes. No nose. Just… nothing. It was eerie as fuck.

After a few minutes of frantic searching, I finally spotted Chuck, one of my best friends from high school besides Fiona and seemingly the only other person in the room with a fucking face.

I breathed a sigh of relief and lifted my arm to drunkenly wave to him as I shouted, “Chuck! Hey!”

He turned and gave me a nod of acknowledgement, then motioned to his wrist. When I just shook my head in confusion, he called out, “They’re about to crown me king, man! I’ll catch you after!”

“King?
Chuck?
No fucking way,” I said with a scoff. Chuck was a lot of things, but popular was not one of them.

Clarissa rolled her eyes and snorted. “You’re so fucking clueless it’s almost depressing. I can’t believe I slept with you.”

“
What?
” I asked incredulously, turning to her and ignoring the announcer on stage as they began reading off the list of king and queen nominees. “But—We haven’t yet. Not until after—”

“Shut
up!
” she screeched, deafening me before she threatened me with a long, painted fingernail by waving it in my face. “You’re going to ruin
everything!
”

“Yeah. ‘M pretty good at that.”

“Shhh!”

My head whipped to the right and I incredulously stared at the blank faces that just shushed me. Finger were held in front of where the mouths should have been, but how they actually made the noise was beyond my comprehension.

“Our king and queen are… Chuck and Fiona!”

The sound of Fiona’s name drew my attention to the stage and I watched with a slack jaw as she strolled up to the microphone, hand-in-hand with Chuck. Her face was thankfully intact and she was wearing a dress I’d never seen on her before, looking like something straight out of a high-fashion magazine. She was
stunning
.

I couldn’t help but to smile as she accepted the crown with an ecstatic grin.

This is how it should have been.

I nearly began to clap for her until the microphone stand faded away and a desk appeared in its place—looking suspiciously familiar although I couldn’t figure out why. Fiona straightened her crown before demurely sitting down on top of the desk—then spread her legs wide as Chuck moved to stand between them.

Oh,
fuck
no. No, no, no!

I pushed myself through the crowd of faceless people, watching in horror as their clothing melted away like the microphone had and Chuck pushed himself inside of her.

I roared in outrage when I finally reached the stage—moving to jump up and pull him off her when Clarissa gripped me from behind and yanked me back down. Two faceless guys each took hold of my biceps, leaving me no other option than to watch Chuck screwing Fiona on the very same desk that I had fucked Clarissa on.

There was a cry from somewhere behind me, followed by a maniacal giggle. I turned to see Clarissa laughing as she pointed at the show on stage, then turned further to find Fiona—the
real
Fiona from that night—looking at me with tears in her eyes.

“How’s it feel?”

The crowd of people erupted in cheers before I could speak and I turned back just in time to realize that Chuck had pulled out for the money shot. I closed my eyes for a moment before turning back around, the real Fiona nowhere to be found.

“Like a knife to the heart,” I whispered to the empty spot she had been standing in.

A
wakening
from the nightmare was a surprisingly gentle experience—my eyes flew open and my body tensed as my heart thud wildly against my chest.

Just a dream, just a dream, just a…

I instantly relaxed when I felt heat pressing against my chest and snuggled closer to it. Something in the back of my mind warned me that the source of my comfort was Fiona—a likely hostile Fiona, at that—but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not after the dream I’d just endured.

Fucking hell, that was torture.

I tightened my arms where I had locked them around her waist and buried my face against her hair, taking a deep breath and smiling at the scent of her.

God, I had missed her.

The more awake I got, the more aware I became of her movements and mumbling, which was nothing new for Fiona. She muttered something angrily in her sleep, and then pressed backwards into me.

I wasn’t thinking fast enough to stifle the groan as her ass ground directly against my morning wood and within seconds, I felt her body go stiff in my arms. She was obviously awake and very much aware of exactly what was pressing against her backside.

Deciding not to take the coward’s way out this time by feigning sleep, I sleepily murmured, “Good morning.”

She didn’t say anything right away, but her body relaxed a fraction and a small smile formed on my lips. Maybe last night had put us one step closer to getting back on good terms.

“Morning.”

“Sleep well?” I asked, knowing that I was pushing my luck but hoping for the best.

“No.”

Oh, well. Was worth a shot.

“Need the bathroom?”

There was a short pause, then—

“Yes, please.”

I grumbled a little and relaxed my arms, stifling a sigh of disappointment when she immediately rolled away and stood beside the bed. I rolled over as well, the sound of the chain rattling yet another reminder of the fact that nothing was right between us.

Even after my apology last night, it wasn’t enough. Not that I really expected it to be.

As I waited for her outside the bathroom, I considered the only other confession I had left to give. She obviously didn’t want a full blow-by-blow explanation of what had happened on prom night, but there
was
something else I could tell her if she’d give me the chance.

But that wasn’t something I was willing to whisper into the darkness and hope she could hear the honesty in my voice. That was something that required the right moment.

The sink in the bathroom turned off and she came bursting out, staring down at the floor as she muttered, “Your turn.”

As I walked into the bathroom, I took a glance back at her miserable face and wondered if we would run out of time before I found the moment I needed.

W
aking
up in Jonathan’s arms was like something out of a dream.

Or a nightmare, depending on which day you asked me.

He was holding me tightly against his chest, the warmth radiating through my whole body and making me feel weirdly safe.

Which was pretty ironic, considering I trusted Jonathan about as far as I could throw him at this point. Still, there was something to be said about being in the arms of someone you love.

Loved.

Another thing that entirely depended on the day I was asked.

Today, it was pretty clear that my heart was already starting to come back around and warm up to him. Not that I was planning to let it happen without a fight. Even though I had been able to hear genuine regret in his apology and I was beginning to
consider
forgiving him, I didn’t think it was possible for me to ever truly forget the heartache he’d caused me.

How could I ever be with him without worrying that history would repeat itself? He admitted himself that screwing things up was what he was best at. We had been friends for over a decade when he hurt me the first time. Why would it be any different if we were romantically involved?

My biggest fear in letting him back into my life and my heart was that I would constantly be second-guessing every word he said, always waiting for the next betrayal. Could I really live like that? Just waiting for the day that he got bored and walked away?

I didn’t know if I
could
, but I knew I didn’t want to. I deserved better than that.

“Breakfast?” he asked after coming out of the bathroom with a small, almost bashful smile on his face.

I nodded and followed him to the kitchen, sitting down while he went searching for something for us to eat. I watched as he dashed around the room, the tether between us jangling with every move he made. While his back was turned, I allowed my eyes to trail over his bare torso and an idea came to life in my head.

Would it really be so wrong of me to push past my issues and sleep with him just this once, while I still had the chance? Because even if I
could
bring myself to forget what he had done, our parents were about to get married. Surely, he knew as well as I did that nothing serious could ever happen between us now.

And I knew Jonathan well enough to know that he’d likely be up for some fun of the tension-relieving variety. Especially given what we had almost done last night. I still didn’t know where the strength to push him away had come from, but now a small part of me was wishing that I hadn’t.

Maybe sleeping with him would be exactly what I needed to get him out of my system once and for all. Or maybe if I gave him what he wanted, he would lose interest and leave me alone. Let me out of this damn shackle so I could call Brenda and go.

The uncertainty of my future was still weighing heavily on my mind and the sooner I got back into town and started applying for jobs, the better. Even if ditching Jonathan at the cabin raised my mom’s ire, getting a job should help calm her back down. I hoped.

So surely I could sacrifice my body just one time for that greater good. Not that I could really consider sleeping with him a sacrifice. Despite all the problems between us, I could at least admit to myself that I
did
want him.

The more I thought about it, the better my idea started to sound.

“Toast good with you? There’s peanut butter.”

I snapped back to reality, looking up to find him looking at me with a tilted head and a questioning smile. I swallowed hard and shook the thought of jumping him right now out of my head.

Seducing him likely wouldn’t be a problem, but I wanted to wait until the right moment. In the meantime—

“Toast sounds great.”

Jonathan beamed at me and I felt myself automatically smiling back. That in itself was alarming, but I shoved the nagging doubts to the side. My plan was going to work.

It
had
to.